Another Scar in American History

Twelve dead, Thirty-one wounded.

I'm having a hard time finding the words I need to express the way I feel about what happened at Ft. Hood yesterday, which for me, is an odd thing. Words don't often elude me . . . not when I feel there's something worth saying.

But this is a different beast altogether. Foreign and strange. Alien, even in its familiarity.

Sure, we've all heard of shootings before. We've all turned on the television, or the radio, or the computer, or heard from a friend or family member that a tragedy had occurred somewhere in America; some seemingly random act of violence that devastated a local community and plunged the nation into mourning. As terrible as it is to admit, though, it's almost become mundane, a huge skeleton in the closet of Americana. For those who can remember back to 1966, there was the Charles Whitman tower incident at the University of Texas at Austin. The 1970 Kent State massacre where Ohio National Guardsmen fired into groups of students to 'quell civil unrest.' Columbine in 1999 and Virginia Tech in 2007 need no summaries, as everyone remembers those. Finally, we factor in all of the disgruntled employees who deem it necessary to pick up a handgun and expend their frustrations on their co-workers--people they had shared time and histories and holiday parties with--that list is growing all the time. . . . Just today, in fact, there was another such case in Orlando, Florida that ended in one dead and five wounded.

Now, Ft. Hood has been added to the list. Just another asterisk in the timeline, or footnote in the history books.

I said earlier that this tragedy is different than the others . . . and it is, in a way. Don't get me wrong. I hope everyone understands that I believe all of the acts of violence mentioned above were reprehensible offenses that have scarred America's history because that's the way I truly feel. Yet this shooting at Ft. Hood caused me to feel something else entirely. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I was stationed there, once upon a time? Maybe being a veteran runs deeper than I previously thought? Hell, it could be just the fact that Austin isn't all that far from Ft. Hood and it unnerves me that something like this could happen after all the "heightened security."

Like I said, I honestly don't know. But I do know that it takes a particular brand of cowardice to pull off such a crime.

The soldiers at Ft. Hood were preparing to go to war. They were running around, getting shots and dental exams, taking care of last-minute affairs, and trying to soak-up as much "home" as possible before they left. They were trying to commit moments from their lives to memory. . . . Not just kisses and hugs, but so much more. Like, what their spouses smell like when cuddled against them at night. The way the dog feels lying curled against their feet. The way their home looks as it comes into view, when work is done for the day. At no time, were they wondering whether or not they'd be safe on their own base. They weren't looking to dodge bullets. Not yet. Not from one of their own.

I don't care what Major Hasan's reasons were for killing and wounding over forty people. Religious views. Fear of deployment. Over-stressed at his job. None of that matters. What matters is that he took an oath, to protect this nation "from all enemies foreign and domestic" then he chose to forsake that oath.

Luckily for him, the country he broke his allegiance to, does not break theirs. He's received treatment for his wounds because the army guarantees him health care as part of his job. He'll receive a fair trial for his actions when the time comes because the constitution guarantees him that. Then the families and victims of all those affected by his actions will receive justice because our society guarantees them that . . . but it won't be enough. And it never will be.