Whenever a mass shooting happens, the same thought passes through my mind, a version of “there but for the grace of God go I.”
In the tragedy at the Binghamton immigration agency, the chill was just a bit chillier. My relatives live in Binghamton. My cousin works for the Binghamton school district. None of my relatives were anywhere the center. They were pleased I called, but somewhat startled by my concern. Deep down I knew that they weren’t really exposed, but what if I was wrong?
It is frightening to think about the violence that our society has decided to accept as normal. It is frightening to think of the ease with which any deranged individual can turn people’s lives upside down.
It is also somewhat chastening to understand that for many people, including a large number in that building in Binghamton, America still represents opportunity, improvement and a chance to escape even more incomprehensible violence.