A survey of our nation’s newspapers in the aftermath of the Parkland, Florida school shooting massacre last week found a resounding unified message from editorial pages of all sizes, locales and political persuasions across our country.
In almost total unanimity, that message was not shock, despair, frustration, outrage, grief, condolence or even blame. It was “speechless.” More than a few newspapers, as did the San Diego Union-Tribune and The Boston Globe, left their daily editorial column space blank under headlines asking: “What will happen next?” Literally, there were no words printed.
We, too, are at a loss to add our editorial voice about this national nightmare of gun violence and slaughtered children. Even our tears for the 14 students and three teachers killed by a badly damaged young shooter feel useless. Thoughts about the next time — and could it happen here — are beginning to numb us as well. Isn’t it obvious that nothing we feel, say or print in a newspaper will make a difference?
It doesn’t matter what we print in this space this week. Those with the power to change our gun laws, tighten school campus safety requirements or support more mental health programs won’t see a copy of this small newspaper. Donald Trump is not on our subscription list and neither are the Republican leaders in Congress who could vote tomorrow to reinstate the national ban on assault weapons that expired 14 years ago. (That was 239 school mass shooting incidents ago where 138 school children were murdered.)
“When is enough, enough?” asked the South Florida Sun Sentinel in its Feb. 15 editorial on the Parkland school massacre. “Makeshift memorials — with candles, children’s photos and goodbye notes will not be enough. (If we stop there) we will have failed those who died on Valentine’s Day in Parkland and failed those sure to die in shootings to come.”
Far from Florida, the Los Angeles Times editorialized: “When does an epidemic stop being an epidemic and become just a basic part of regular life?”
Finding words rarely seen on an American newspaper page, The Times added: “This is what America is today: bloody. This is us. Until we decide finally, forcefully, effectively, that it is not.”
Our readers here may feel resigned to this indictment. We are helpless witnesses and potential victims of our own extremely violent society. Innocent children have become collateral damage in a political war over gun control. (Yes, we blame the National Rifle Association and its millions in political hush money on behalf of multi-national weapons manufacturers, not rural gun owners or hunters.)
The New York Daily News ran a page one photo on Feb. 16 of a very young school girl in a bulletproof flak jacket asking “Is my school next, mommy?”
What will happen next? Those of us who are numbed and speechless might fear we already know.
Last week it was Parkland. In 2012 it was Sandy Hook (Connecticut.) It started in 1999 with Columbine. It’s not always been schools. In between there has been Las Vegas, Orlando, San Bernadino, Sutherland Springs and hundreds more.
Each time there has been a loner or damaged man or boy. Each time there has been a high capacity gun and large cache of bullets. The weapons are legal. The next time we will watch the same scenes of horror and death on our TVs. The next day we will watch the vigils and prayer gatherings. First responders and surprising heroes will be saluted. Politicians will vow that something must change.
sDays will pass and our outrage will fade. Promises to change laws or to “never forget” will be broken. The NRA will receive more donations. More assault weapons will be sold.
We know all this. What we don’t know, as The Boston Globe pointed out in its editorial last weekend is “There are only three things we don’t know: who, where and how many?”
