Death came to the neighborhood today. It's startling. I know, of course, that domestic violence can break out in any neighborhood. After all, look how much press goes into the high profile murders between rich husbands and wives. But here, on our quiet little street full of hard-working people --- a street of families and folks of many backgrounds --- it feels garish, out of place, hard to comprehend. It's a friendly neighborhood, but not up-in-everybody's-business friendly. More like wave and shout hello friendly. Meet in the street to talk about the tornado or the big snowstorm friendly.There are a few more individual connections than that, but no block parties, no trading babysitting and dogsitting, no gossiping about the neighbors. So who knew? Who knew there was trouble in the tidy white house down the street? After all, the yard was cut, the dogs were cared for.
I've had several conversations lately with people who wistfully remember the "old days" when they were young. It seems that can range from the 1930s to the 1990s. Back then, kids were safe in the neighborhood. People looked out for each other. You knew about your neighbors and everybody helped each other. Back then, people took cakes to the new family that moved in and casseroles when somebody died. The kids played outside, the old people sat on the porch, the dogs didn't bark and it only rained on Tuesdays and Thursdays. No wait. That's Camelot.
The problem is, when we were growing up, whatever the decade, it WAS different. Not only that, we were kids. We didn't know that Mr. Jones had a drinking problem and Sally across the street was inviting the delivery boy in during the day. We didn't have to worry about paying the mortgage and the light bill, or whether the city would tell us take down that tool shed, or getting the neighbor's teenager to quit playing loud music. Those weren't our concerns. If somebody was acting weird by the swingset, we could tell our parents and they would take care of it. We got to keep playing.
Things always change and they always stay the same. There are people who have terrible anger problems. Mix that with alcohol and drugs, and it doesn't matter where you live or how much money you earn, it's a disaster in the making. It was like that in 1492 and it's like that today.
What truly befuddles me though, is why we have so many, many firearms on the loose. I don't know what happened in the house three doors down. But I do know that it involved a couple and a gun. It is one thing to get angry, really angry, vein-popping, yelling and screaming, pushing and shoving mad, and it's another thing to shoot someone with a gun. If there had been no gun, would she be alive now? It seems like, too often, the easy availability of firearms is what makes the difference between a really bad, horrific fight, and a murder.
Many people's lives changed this morning. And yours came to an end, dear neighbor. Rest in peace.
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