This morning at 6:30, my phone rang.
The question of the U.S. Supreme Court rulings, or lack thereof, on the meaning of the Second Amendment has left supporters on all sides of the debate open to interpret the actions of the court as they see fit. Until recently, United States federal courts generally interpreted the Second Amendment to protect a "collective right" to keep and bear arms.[94]
http://en.wikipedia.org/...
June 22, 2008. Today is my daughter's 19th birthday. She lives in a small, quaint, apartment complex on the south side of Birmingham. There is a Birmingham Police Department Annex less than one block from her apartment. Twice in the last year someone has attempted to break in her apartment while she was home. A few months ago her boyfriend purchased a gun. I wasn't happy about his purchase, but right this second, I am having mixed feelings.
In hysterical tears Jillian's voice on the other end of the phone caused my heart to sink. "Mom, my neighbor is dead! Somebody shot him, the police are here!"
Then she said a litany of things that I wasn't able to make out. For twenty minutes she sobs and babbles and I just keep repeating for her to calm down. This neighbor, a young man in his early thirties, single, white, gay, successful, friendly was found by another neighbor, face down on the ground beside his back stoop, dead. Gun shot wound to the head. His back stoop is about three feet from my daughter's. She was awakened by the police knocking on her door shortly before she called me.
The Second Amendment, the Right to bear arms? Who has the right to take another's life? I see nothing RIGHT about any of this. Was this a hate crime? Was he robbed? Why didn't they hear the gunshot? A million and one questions and another million and one thoughts, feelings are racing through my mind. My grand baby's bedroom is next to his stoop, did she hear the shot? Did she wake up? When did this happen, how did this happen, why did this happen?
An hour later the phone rings again. My future son-in-law has been over with the police and identified the "body" as in fact, Tim, the neighbor. There is talk of cocaine, suicide, murder, waiting on the forensics team to finish their investigation. They can't move the body. Jillian is still in tears. "There are two empty beer bottles." "Nothing is missing from his apartment Mom, and his cat is gone, we can't find his cat." She's reeling.
Another thirty minutes later and that ring, that noise happens again. "He killed himself Mom!" she sobs. He left a note. The gun was found under his body. A coke habit, a few beers and a gun.
I am sick.
I started writing this diary because my mind was reeling with thoughts from the last few day's rants and sometimes intense arguments about FISA, our Constitution, Wiretapping, protecting American citizens and how I somehow wanted someone in authority to have spied on the person that killed my daughter's neighbor. I wanted my daughter and grand baby protected and I didn't give a damn about anyone else's RIGHT to privacy when they so carelessly take another's life. Terrorism at her back door.
Suicide. Somehow it doesn't make it any better. It is still terrifying, still violent, still a loss of life. I want to hug his mother.
I am sick. I want peace. I want safety. I want freedom from violence. I want my baby girl home.
Update: This apparently happened shortly after 2:30 this morning. Tim had sent a text message to a friend apologizing for what he was about to do. The gun was a .38 which I am told doesn't have a "loud bang, more of a muted pop". My grand baby did hear it and woke her mother at about the same time crying.
I am still reeling. I can't thank those of you, who have commented enough. This is somehow therapeutic as I sit here and wait for babies to come home.
Later Update: The kids have spent the day with me and now they have gone to have a birthday dinner for Jillian with friends. It has been to say the least a very long day. As the day unfolded, Tim the self-inflicted victim's parents were found and notified of their son's death. They live in New York and apparently have had a very strained relationship with their adopted son. An ex-lover was also found and Tim had mentioned to my daughter weeks ago that if anything should ever happen to him, Dutch the cat should go to the former lover.
Also Tim was only 28 not in his early thirties as I mentioned before. From what Jillian has told me, Tim was a wonderful neighbor and friend. He was Bi-Polar and had recently had his medication changed but could not get an appointment with his doctor in time to circumvent this tragedy. The new medication was not only not working but coupled with the alcohol and coke (which was more occasional than frequent)left him in a very depressed and fragile state of mind.
Stephen(future son-in-law)was very distraught when they arrived. He felt he had lost a family member. He had said that he had never seen a dead body before today and that the body being his neighbor and friend was almost more than he could take. "I wanted to pick him up and shake him and tell him to wake up" was how he described first having seen Tim lying on the ground. He said the scene was not gruesome, as you might think it would be with a gunshot to the head. The cops told him that most suicides they investigate where the victim is a homosexual male are almost always the neatest suicides, in that the victims think about the scene they will leave behind and take extra steps to ensure that it will be easily cleaned up. Most prepare a plastic sheet for their body so that all anyone has to do is pick up plastic with the body and all is done. As I type this, I am amazed that I can even muster the strength to repeat the details of a police officer trying to engage my children in a conversation about forensics, forensics that involved their friend and neighbor Tim. And as such, Stephen has decided that he wants to pursue a career in forensics and criminal law.
Several years ago, my nephew killed himself by hanging. He had the foresight to put his goggles on beforehand in case his eyes bulged out of socket.
To plan to that degree, with that much forethought, blows me away.
I have said all of this to make this next point.
There is no safety. No security. What doesn't happen at the hands of another can just as easily happen by crossing the street or in this case, self inflicted.
I hurt for his parents. Especially since their relationship was strained and they had not spoken in quite some time. I am angry with Tim even though I had only met him once in passing. I also love him and wish that in that passing, that one, brief, encounter I could have done something...said something to have prevented this tragedy. And as much as I am feeling that, I can only imagine what his mother must be feeling and thinking.
Thank you all for the comfort and advice that you have given me today. I do not know what I would have done without you!
I may not ever buy a gun, but from now on, I will not blame the gun or the Constitution or the law. These things happen, always have, and most likely always will. I just pray that those who do own guns or possess them, never find themselves in a situation to have to use them, and please keep them away from babies and small children.
As for mental illness, I have to say that I blame our society, our medical community. Too often serious problems are mis-diagnosed and all too often drugs are not fully researched until it is too late. We need to do a better job.
Thanks again!