Murder Close to Home II
A couple of nights ago, there was a commotion outside our duplex around 0100. First Police, and then relatives, came to see some of our neighbors. And during the next few days, our shared parking-area has become Grand Central Station for relatives, newspeople and well-wishers.
Our neighbors' granddaughter has been a victim in a murder-suicide which has dominated the community's attention for the last few days. Yesterday, a Channel-5 News truck spent the day parked out front, so they could interview the family. (I don't watch television, but it has been the prime item on the local news sites)
How does one even deal with the death of a child that small? Apparently, her mother may get $25,000 from a victim's relief fund, and I'm sure that'll be much appreciated, but that would seem an incomparable drop in the bucket, next to the loss of a child.
Yesterday, my neighbor and I discussed how it may be a comfort of sorts to not have to sit through the entire criminal justice process... to sit through hearing after hearing, and through the grotesque details which a Prosecutor must feed to a Jury in order to clinch a guilty-verdict. And then, to sit through every excuse and challenge and objection, and attempt to suppress evidence, and last of all, every appeal, on the way to some sense of justice. In the end, the murderer took his own life. But it probably wasn't intended to spare anyone but himself.
This hasn't been the first murder that has violated my thinking recently. It seems to be a year for long thoughts.
Pipes and I are going to go and take a hike in Little Cottonwood Canyon.