Twenty years ago today, this world lost a good man. It happens every day I know, in varying degrees of importance to us all based on connection with the loss, but this one changed my life forever. He was my dad.
My father was the kind of guy who would wait up late for the neighbors to come home so they would make it from their car to the house safely after the end of their work shift. People talk about having a block watch, but my dad was the entirety of the night shift on our block. There was no neighborhood meeting required, he just adopted the responsibility because someone had to do it. He was the kind of guy who would do literally whatever he could to help anyone who was one of the good guys (honorable folk), and often did so at his own expense. He lived in the West End of Hartford and while being encroached on all sides by crack heads, junkies and thieves, he refused to move. He toed the line because that is what you are supposed to do. He had a habit of doing good for others (often without them ever knowing who did it) especially when he was in a bad place himself, paying it forward before that was even a term known to the vernacular. And so the ripples of his good actions faded into time, his loss is a loss to all of us. The world as a whole became a bit colder that day. What makes it especially tragic is that he was in excellent health until three junkies saw him as an available robbery target, confronted him in his own front yard, and shot him, taking him from us long before his time.
My father’s death taught me a few things, first and foremost the idea that life is short, unpredictable, and can be over at any moment. This was a lesson I desperately needed and still need to be reminded of often. I won’t bore you with the rest of the lessons.
One might hear this story and claim it to be justification for an anti-firearm argument, but really it is a failure of the ‘criminal justice’ system since each of the participants in the crime had a rap sheet as long as my leg, and then some. None of them had the legal right to possess a firearm anyway. Criminals by definition do not follow the law, so making laws against firearms does not disarm the bad guys (obviously as evident here) but only disarms those inclined to follow the law. Also, after being shot my father was able to put a round through an assailant’s arm and leg, causing major blood loss and thus a DNA sample on the scene to verify the shooter’s identity when he later sought medical attention, so really this can be argued to be a case study of the fact that the tool is not the guilty party for the actions taken by the one who wields it.
We all have many tools at our disposal. Make good use of them, and use them for good. In other words, don’t let them rust away in a drawer, use your skills, talents and abilities to the fullest, and with good intention.
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