The Wrong Door

I’ve spent a lot of time in Kansas City.

It’s a good city and reminds me a lot of Buffalo. It’s big enough to have some great restaurants and professional sports teams that a rabid fan base talks about endlessly.

Traffic isn’t a problem there either. Like Buffalo it appears that you can be most anywhere in about twenty minutes.

It’s just the Midwest sensibilities that scare me a little.

On Sunday night I read a story about a 16-year-old black kid who rang a doorbell, thinking he was visiting a new friend’s home.

He was at the wrong house.

The man who lived at the home didn’t bother asking the youngster what he wanted.

Instead, he shot the kid through the glass of the door.

Then he opened his front door, stood over the kid, and shot him again.

When the police showed up the owner of the home explained that the ringing of the doorbell frightened him and he shot the child, twice, because he feared for his own safety.

Midwest sensibilities.

And, it’s the guns, stupid.

We have thousands of gun deaths every year because we have unfettered access to as many guns as one might want…

…and a lot of the responsible gun owners are one moment away from becoming someone who should’ve never been allowed to have a gun because they aren’t emotionally stable enough to ever have owned one.

We get knocks on the door every now and again.

Sometimes it’s a neighbor.

Once in awhile it’s a kid selling cookies or candy.

Even more rare it’s someone intent on spreading the good word.

I’ve never once considered finding a weapon and using it on the person standing on the other side of the door.

Criminals don’t normally ring the freaking doorbell.

Kids don’t usually pose the greatest of all risks.

The shooter?

He wasn’t charged.

The cops evidently reasoned that he was standing his ground or something stupid like that.

The child?

He’s fighting for his life.

For ringing the wrong damn doorbell.