Sad and angry Monday morning, after being awake much of the night. After a lovely day at home, we were awakened Sunday night by bullhorns and what sounded like at least 12 gunshots (but may have been “impact munitions”) between 11 p.m. and 3 a.m. “This is the police. You’re under arrest. Come out with your hands up!” I recognized the commands of a SWAT team that sounded very near. Initially gripped by fear, I realized that we were probably not in danger ourselves, then tormented by who was and why.
I was trying to find information early Monday when my daughter texted me from London and I shared with her what had happened. In less than five minutes she had found and sent me a press release from the Snohomish County Sheriff’s Office with the details of an hours-long standoff. It seems this had happened about three blocks from us (as the crow flies), not so close as I was believing at the time. And in the end, no one was killed.
I’m wondering now, though, how many people were affected by this single egregious act. What did it cost us to intervene? And, most important, will anything stop this degradation of our communities? Being sleepless over how violence affects all of us seems more than appropriate to me this morning. My daughter’s sign-off from London was “…back to the land doing just fine without a Second Amendment.”