Too Close to Home

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When I was 11 years old there was a massive manhunt in our little Town of North Collins because some dirt bag shot a cop, who also happened to be a family friend. As a sensitive, young, writer-to-be, I remember feeling as if my life was some how violated by the act.

I couldn't figure out how or why a person could kill another person.

Turns out I still can't.

I was hustling through the city of Buffalo on Wednesday morning, oblivious to the goings-on just a few blocks from where I was hanging out. There were no reports of the Erie County Medical Center murder on the Howard Stern Show. So how would I know?

My beautiful wife telephoned just before ten a.m., and I figured she was just checking in before starting her shift at the...Erie County Medical Center.

"Work is locked down," she said. "Someone shot someone and the place is surrounded."

I felt a little like I did when I was 11.

I'd just been through the Medical Center to review the construction on the new building. I ate lunch in the cafeteria.

The scary part being, of course, that there was no way of knowing what happened. Was there a madman on the loose who'd gun down everyone in his path? My wife's friends? My friends?

Calls started coming in. People were checking on Kathy and seeing if I heard anything. I was about six blocks away.

Oblivious.

And it really doesn't matter what you're six blocks away from anymore. There's a chance that someone might walk in and light the place up.

School? Mall? Church? Medical Center?

It doesn't matter. The answer to a bunch of the questions these days is shoot first and pick up the pieces.

Sixteen thousand murders a year, folks. In the greatest nation in the land.

The details are still a bit sketchy. The wide speculation is that it was a domestic situation that turned fatal and in the most shocking of all developments, the man being looked at is a freaking well-respected surgeon. Kathy knows him and the victim of his rage.

It's crossing over. It's in your community, my community, and everywhere in between.

It's been way too close to home for way too long now.

Like the 11-year-old boy, I'm still waiting for the good answers.

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