Dunblane
I hadn't noticed that yesterday was the tenth anniversary of the primary school murders in Dunblane. I was in Scotland at the time, ostensibly doing thesis research, and I remember how shocked people were on the afternoon train out of Edinburgh as they read the Evening News and so forth. My aunt (with whom I was staying) was absolutely distraught; no wonder, my cousins were that age at the time.
One thing that stands out though as I think about it, is the extent to which I wasn't surprised... I suppose because the 80s and 90s in the US brought several mass-shootings; I hate to suggest that you get used to it, but you do. Sometimes, when I am mulling over where I think I belong, I fancy the idea of living somewhere where Dunblane is an egregious, once in a century sort of event.
As a parent now I can't really contemplate it with any seriousness, the idea is too horrifying and the mind simply won't go there. The parents of the murdered children don't need my validation, but I am glad that they made it clear that they wanted no madhouse of remembrance, no pornographic revisitation of grief.
One thing that stands out though as I think about it, is the extent to which I wasn't surprised... I suppose because the 80s and 90s in the US brought several mass-shootings; I hate to suggest that you get used to it, but you do. Sometimes, when I am mulling over where I think I belong, I fancy the idea of living somewhere where Dunblane is an egregious, once in a century sort of event.
As a parent now I can't really contemplate it with any seriousness, the idea is too horrifying and the mind simply won't go there. The parents of the murdered children don't need my validation, but I am glad that they made it clear that they wanted no madhouse of remembrance, no pornographic revisitation of grief.
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