Is it me, or is it absolutely crazy that bazookas aren’t legal? How fun would it be to head up to the mountains, set up some old beer cans on a log and launch rockets at them. And can you imagine how exhilarating it would be to hunt with a bazooka? It would be a quick way to curb the over population of deer in Colorado.
While we’re on it, and if I had a little extra cash, I would definitely get a tank. I could park it right in front of Steele Elementary for neighborhood security. We could set up some barb-wired fences around the school and arm our troops . . . I mean teachers.
Does this sound ridiculous to you?
It was almost twenty years ago now that I was staying at my parents house for a few weeks while I was in between homes in Denver. It was April 20, 1999 and the state, and every person in it, was in jaw dropping disarray because the Columbine school shooting had happened earlier that day. I was up late that night studying for my final oral defense of my graduate degree. I would get drilled by a panel of professors for two hours the next morning. It must have been midnight, when my dad walked in. He looked exhausted and completely devastated like something had completely drained his soul. We sat in the living room, for what seemed like forever, not saying anything.
You see my dad was the president of the Jefferson County School Board. He had been at Columbine all day touring the aftermath at the school, dealing with crisis management, meeting with principals, teachers and victims’ families. We sat there for hours that night, until three or four in the morning, not saying much, just heartbroken and empty.
The next day, I did a terrible job defending my degree, but I somehow passed. When I got home, the phone rang . . . it was President Clinton looking for my dad. I gave him my dad’s cell phone number and my dad went on to be the liaison between Clinton and the victims’ families.
Shaleen and I were dating back then. Who knew that almost twenty years later we would have three kids ages 14, 10 and 6. Life is crazy I guess. What is even more crazy is the fact that, almost twenty years after Columbine, my kids are afraid to go to school because of the shooting epidemic that has swept the nation. I have to ask myself, “What have we done to change this?” I wish the answer was “not enough,” but really the answer is “nothing.” As I’m writing this I feel the same way I did that night, sitting there with my dad . . . heartbroken and empty.
To me, this is what is ridiculous.
Your neighbor Sam DeStefano