As the list of mass shootings grows ever longer, it's time for the U.S. to make something good from the continual trauma. There can be hope in leadership.
This isn’t what I had intended to write about. I had planned to write a story about changing tastes or the Great Depression or today‘s fragile economy. But I can’t. I am too hurt, too heartbroken, too angry to look away.
Again, America is faced with mending the broken lives left in the wake of a mass shooting.
Again, innocent people were murdered as they went about the most mundane tasks of their everyday life.
This time it happened close to home. Again.
At a grocery store on a Monday afternoon in beautiful Boulder, Colorado.
Nestled at the foot of the Rocky Mountains with the Flatirons keeping watch, about 45 miles south and west from where I'm sitting right now, Boulder is a fascinating combination of history and modernity, urban and mountain, old-timers and students. Although it has the reputation of being a mecca of far-left liberalism and is fondly called “the People’s Republic of Boulder” by locals and outsiders alike, in 2019 Democrats were only 43 percent of the registered voters; most of the other 57 percent were independents.
Mostly Boulder is fueled by a “live and let live” attitude, giving succor to such ideas as same-sex marriage (legalized in Boulder way back in 1974 when most of the rest of the country was yet to get onboard), legalized marijuana (there are at least 28 dispensaries in the city of 108,000) and the Naked Pumpkin Run. It routinely makes the lists that Chambers of Commerce covet: Happiest City, Brainiest City, Foodiest Town, top town in which to live well, top town to raise an outdoorsy kid.
Sadly, Boulder made another list Monday: most recent site of a public mass murder. Monday (March 22), about 2:30, a 21-year-old man walked into a Boulder King Soopers and killed 10 people with an AR-15. Witnesses said he wordlessly massacred shoppers, employees and a police officer. Eric Talley, 51, the first officer on the scene, arrived within minutes of the initial 911 calls. He was shot in the head and killed, leaving a wife and seven children to mourn, to ask why, to — somehow — go on without him.
Also killed in this heinous act were Bosnian refugee and store “fix-it” man Neven Stanisic, 23; newly-engaged shop owner Tralona Bartkowiak, 49; local actress and eTown house manager Suzanne Fountain, 59; grandfather-to-be Kevin Mahoney, 61; former photo director for Cosmopolitan and Glamour magazines and mother of two Lynn Murray, 62; and Boulder businesswoman Jody Waters, 65. Killed while doing their jobs at the store were front-end manager Rikki Olds, 25, CU superfan Teri Leiker, 51, and outdoors enthusiast Denny Stong, 20, all of them employees of King Soopers. (Leiker had worked there for more than 30 years.)
"You never get over it. You just get stronger and you learn to carry it.” — Sam Zeif, Parkland school shooting survivor
The shooter’s story is a tired one, painfully familiar and yet strikingly unique: He is a 21-year-old man from Arvada (about 20 miles southeast of Boulder). According to acquaintances and family members of the shooter who spoke to the New York Post, the shooter came to the United States from Syria in 2002, in the year following the Sept. 11 attacks, barely more than a toddler. His family said he was a happy child but was bullied in high school because he was Muslim. His siblings said he became increasingly paranoid and anti-social, talking about people following him, looking for him, chasing him. (On Facebook, the shooter himself claimed to be under surveillance.) His brother called him mentally-ill. Classmates said he had a temper, and police records show he was arrested and pleaded guilty to assault in 2017 for “cold-cocking” a classmate who had called him names.
No one did anything in response to the signs.
He now faces 10 first-degree murder charges. Colorado abolished the death penalty a year ago; so once his case winds its way through the courts, he will likely spend the rest of his life behind bars.
There was a discussion on Facebook the other night about the number of “high-profile” mass shootings that Colorado has endured since 12 students and a teacher were murdered at Columbine High School in 1999. It started as a list: 12/14/93: Aurora Chuck E Cheese, 4 dead; 4/20/99: Columbine High School, 15 dead, including the two teen-aged gunmen; 2/23/10: Deer Creek Middle School, no one died, but two students were injured ; 7/20/12: Aurora Movie Theater, 12 dead and 70 injured; 12/13/13: Arapahoe High School, 2 dead; 11/1/17: Thornton Walmart, 3 dead; 5/7/19: STEM School Highlands Ranch, 1 killed; and, of course, 3/22/21: Boulder King Soopers, 10 dead.
Then someone said, remember this one. Remember the Colorado Springs Halloween shootings in 2015 in which four people were killed. And someone said, remember Platte Canyon High School in 2006; only one girl and the perpetrator were killed, but he held a classroom hostage and sexually assaulted at least some of the girls before killing himself as police entered the school. And remember the YWAM/ New Life shootings in 2007; four were killed that time and the shooter killed himself just steps away from the sanctuary of a Colorado Springs church. And what about the 2015 shooting at the Colorado Springs Planned Parenthood? That should count, shouldn‘t it? Four people died that day; nine others were injured.
After awhile, the list was so long and so heavy, we wept at the sheer weight of it.
Colorado has a dark history with mass shootings, the headlines on the Internet say. And clearly, that’s true. But Colorado is just one state; based on the Gun Violence Archive definition of four people killed in a single event, excluding the shooter, there isn’t a state in the country that has escaped this national failure.
In one of the myriad interviews I listened to in the wake of this shooting, I heard someone emphasize the unexceptional, routine nature of stopping at a supermarket for a bag of chips. If we can’t be safe going to the market, then we’re just not safe anywhere, they said. Because what’s more normal than going to the grocery store in Boulder, Colorado?
Maybe shopping at WalMart in El Pao, Texas, or at a mall in Omaha, Nebraska? Maybe taking in a midnight movie in Aurora, Colorado? Or eating at McDonald’s in San Ysidro, California, or at a Luby’s Cafeteria in Killeen, Texas? Maybe gathering with friends on a downtown street in Dayton, Ohio, or in a bar in Thousand Oaks, California, or a nightclub in Orlando, Florida? Maybe going to a concert in Las Vegas? Maybe working at a post office in Edmond, Oklahoma, or a navy yard in Washington, D.C., or a brewery in Milwaukee or a newspaper in Maryland or a massage parlor in Atlanta? Maybe attending a holiday work party in San Bernardino, California? Maybe worshipping at a historic Black Church in Charleston, S.C., or a synagogue in Pittsburgh or a rural church in Sutherland Springs, Texas, or a Sikh temple in Oak Creek, Wisc.? How about reading in the school library at Columbine, or studying engineering or German at Virginia Tech or walking in the hallway between classes at Stoneman-Douglas High in Parkland, Florida.?
What could be more normal than kissing your 6-year-old on the cheek and sending him off to first-grade? Twenty families did that ordinary thing in Newtown, Connecticut, in 2012, and never saw their children alive again.
When asked by MSNBC’s Brian Williams what advice he would give to Boulder now, Parkland High School shooting survivor Sam Zeif, said: “You never get over it. You just get stronger and you learn to carry it.”
But we shouldn’t be asked to carry so much.
Following a briefing on the shooting, President Joe Biden urged Congress to act on pending legislation that would ban high-capacity magazines and assault weapons and would close the “Charleston loophole” in the background check system.
“I don’t need to wait another minute,” he said, “let alone another hour, to take commonsense steps that will save lives in the future.”
To which I say, “Then don’t.”
Don’t.
For god sake, don’t.
It’s time, high time, past time for U.S. leaders to take seriously this uniquely American pandemic of gun violence and to enact meaningful change. It shouldn’t stop with gun laws, but it should start there.
America wants it. America demands it. America isn’t strong enough — no one is — to carry this burden indefinitely.
The Pie
I was initially intrigued by this pie because of it’s history. Vinegar Pie is a Depression-era recipe, popular in the American South. Don't be fooled by the name; this is a delicious pie. In it’s most basic form, it only requires five ingredients and a crust. The stories say it was created using kitchen staples at a time when other ingredients were scarce because of rationing or poverty or dust storms. Some modern iterations include raisins and spices — cinnamon and nutmeg — but I chose not to use them because I figured they would make the simple custard taste pretty much like a pumpkin pie. In the oven, the pie forms a slightly crispy, sugary crust on the top and maintains a smooth custard center. I topped it with a little dollop of cinnamon whipped cream and a sliced strawberry, which was pretty and delicious, but it was just as good the second day when we ate it unadorned. For a recipe with a decidedly unappealing name, I was pleasantly surprised. It seemed to be telling me that even something as acidic as vinegar can be turned into something good with the right support. Maybe that’s a message apropos of the day.
The recipe
Vinegar Pie
1 crust
4 eggs
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar (You can also use white vinegar if that’s what you have in your cupboard.)
1 cup white sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar (Depending on what you have on hand, you can also use only 1 cup of brown sugar or only 1½ cups white sugar.)
6 tablespoons melted butter
½ teaspoon salt
1½ vanilla extract (optional)
1 tsp cinnamon (optional)
½ tsp nutmeg (optional)
¾ cup raisins (optional)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Line a pie plate with crust. Parbake it, lined with parchment and weighted, for 15 minutes. Remove from oven, prick the bottom of the crust with a knife, and then bake for another 10 to 15 minutes. Let cool.
Increase oven temperature to 425 degrees.
Whisk together eggs, sugar and salt until the sugars are almost completely dissolved.
Drizzle in butter while whisking. Then whisk in vinegar.
Pour the filling mixture into the crust.
(If you are using raisins, first sprinkle them evenly over the bottom of the prepared pie shell. Then pour the mixture over the raisins, making sure to pour slowly and evenly. If you pour it quickly all in one place, the raisins will be pushed to the outer edges of the pie.)
Bake in 425 degree oven for 25 minutes, then reduce heat to 375 degrees and bake for another 10-15 minutes or until the pie is evenly browned. The pie should be set to wobbly in the center.
Cool on a wire rack. Can be served at room temperature when it cools or refrigerate until cold.
One-crust pie crust
Mix together 1 cup sifted flour and ½ teaspoon salt. With a pastry blender, cut in ½ cup shortening (one tablespoon extra if using hydrogenated shortening). Sprinkle with 2 tablespoons water. Gather dough together and press firmly into a ball. If dough doesn’t all come together, add more water, one tablespoon at a time, until all the flour is worked into the dough.
Comments