Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown Connecticut

The awful events that happened in Newtown today had an eerie familiarity about them. The way the news trickled out, it reminded me of how 9/11 unfolded for me.

I first heard about “a shooting” at a school in Newtown this morning, there were few details at that point other than there was 1 confirmed death and it was believed to be the perpetrator. Police were on the scene. I naturally assumed the best: the situation was stabilized, the perpetrator had been shot by the police. This is all very similar to when I first saw the news that “a plane has struck the World Trade Center.” To this day, I remember thinking “Great, some whackjob…”

Then the facts slowly started trickling in: there were some injured, it took place at an elementary school, the entire district was in lockdown. Bad news for sure, but not a disaster yet. Next I started hearing things about the perpetrator possibly going after the principal. Then that the principal was, in fact, dead and there were injuries among the children and faculty.

Then the bombshell that 27 people were dead, the majority of them children. My mind immediately recalled the fact that it was an elementary school and the gravity of the event finally hit me. At that point, it was like the Twin Towers had just collapsed.

All this took place over the course of an hour-and-a-half or so.

Newtown is on the other side of the state from where we live. But for all it’s distance, as I listened to the description of the town I had another disturbing realization: Newtown could just as easily be my town. Not in the sense that “it could be any town” but in the sense that much of the same qualities that described Newtown also describe my town. Something like this isn’t supposed to happen there, or here.

I’m mad. Mad that someone would commit such an atrocity. That bastard obliterated the lives of 28 families. He took their Christmas away from them. There are kids without their best friend now, gone because of the whims of a monster. There are families who, upon hearing the news, went to Sandy Hook Elementary praying to their God it wasn’t their child- and those prayers went unanswered. There are children who will have nightmares and who lost innocence today.

At the same time, I recognize the futility of my anger: it didn’t affect me personally, it won’t bring anyone back or change a damn thing. It’s likely more a reaction to a greater truth: the helplessness of the situation. Our kid’s school is locked and someone has to ring a bell to gain entry; but it’s a ruse. The people in the office barely check and if the person is known or familiar to them, entry is granted. Need I say more? I live 5 minutes from the school, but God forbid the worst, I might as well be on the other side of the state, in Newtown.

There is sadness as well, for all those families whose Christmas has been ruined. Sadness for a town that must deal with something that can’t be prepared for; a town that is an hour’s drive away.

We decided not to mention anything to the kids, assuming they hadn’t heard anything. What, after all, are we supposed to tell them? That monsters are real? That they aren’t big and hairy with sharp teeth and bad breath and drool, rather they look just like us? That we can’t even tell they are monsters, until it’s too late?