Already Seven Years On....

Seven years ago today horror came to "where is that exactly?" Connecticut as someone who should have never had access to guns did and used them to horrible and horrendous effect on a day where we were all pre-occupied with the approaching holidays, just like today. 

And aside from a moment to send thoughts and prayers, we've done nothing (and the scale and scope of all ensuing carnage increased). I'm shifting my investment strategy and sinking all my money into small, stuffed teddy bears and votive candles because the demand for both of those just keeps going up. 

Seven years on, we know nothing more because we have chosen to learn nothing. I was angry when I wrote this and I'm still pissed now, and that won't do. It's really hard to work together to fix something with balled fists. Anyway..... 

No other animal works harder to rationalize our sometimes unthinking behavior than do we-no other animal is even capable of seeing the absurdity and contradiction of how we so often live our lives. Because the carnage at Newtown, Connecticut, happened in the state in which I reside I'm haunted by a feeling very similar to the aftermath of 9-11-01.

I suspect seven years ago you did what I did: watched television and read rafts of online commentary and analysis (a three-dollar word for what on my block we called a WAG) nearly non-stop assuming, persisting in the belief might be a better phrase, that at some point a penny would drop and a light would go on and someone, somewhere would say or write something that caused us each to have an 'aha!' moment and understand what happened.

Both of us are only reluctantly starting to accept the notion that there will never be a nice, neat, explanation with a timeline and expert testimony that explains the inexplicable. Leaving so many moms and dads and friends and relatives of the deceased (an abstraction of the first order) not to even start to think about the surviving school-children with holes in their hearts that will never heal.

Those murdered in the Sandy Hook Elementary School weren't 'victims,' they were people, mostly incredibly tiny and very young people. The Innocents included:

Charlotte Bacon, 6; Daniel Barden, 7; Rachel Davino, 29; Olivia Engel, 6; Josephine Gay, 7; Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 6; Dylan Hockley, 6; Dawn Hochsprung, 47; Madeleine F. Hsu, 6; Catherine V. Hubbard, 6; Chase Kowalski, 7; Jesse Lewis, 6; James Mattioli, 6; Grace McDonnell, 7; Anne Marie Murphy, 52; Emilie Parker, 6; Jack Pinto, 6; Noah Pozner, 6; Caroline Previdi, 6; Jessica Rekos, 6; Avielle Richman, 6; Lauren Rousseau, 30; Mary Sherlach, 56; Victoria Soto, 27; Benjamin Wheeler, 6 and Allison N. Wyatt, 6.

"This is a prayer for the souls of the departed" and sadly we should all know it by heart.
-bill kenny

A Public Service Announcement

I don't do this often, so savor it.

I know you did not see that coming.
-bill kenny

Almost a Postcard

I have never claimed to be a fan of snow though I will concede under some circumstances, it can add a spirit and sparkle to my everyday. 

As was the case yesterday afternoon coming back from running some errands and stopping to admire the sights and sounds that were part of the scenery at the Lower Falls of the Yantic River, my most favorite place to pause in all of Norwich.

Yesterday was exactly two weeks until Christmas and for a moment it sure felt like it.
-bill kenny 

The Toil of Tradition

This is the time of year when traditions drive a great deal of who we are and how we behave. Smiles are a little brighter, steps are a little lighter, and hearts are gladder as we wish one another the best of the holiday season however it is we choose to celebrate and share it.

This Saturday is one of my more favorite holiday traditions and while it's somber and solemn, it's also in keeping with the season as we spend a moment or more thinking of others and what they sacrificed for us. I've offered similar thoughts in previous years-just think of it as my part of the tradition.

This Saturday at noon is the annual Wreaths Across America (WAA) Day observance conducted by American Legion Post 104 at Taftville's Sacred Heart Cemetery to honor veterans during the holidays. 

Recognizing the service and sacrifice of our veterans and their families is very poignant anytime but truly timely and appropriate during the traditional holiday season. Doing for others can help us refocus on what this time of year is about for so many, being with those for whom we care and who care for us. 

Wreaths Across America has a three-fold mission: Remember, Honor, and Teach. 

Every year for over a quarter of a century this national outreach has coordinated wreath-laying ceremonies on veterans’ graves on the second or third Saturday in December at Arlington National Cemetery, Virginia, as well as veterans’ cemeteries and other locations in each of our 50 states, at sea, and in over two dozen cemeteries in other nations where US military members have been interred.

The Taftville ceremony is always well-attended but there is still room for you to be there, too. Seven specially designated wreaths for the Army, Marines, Navy, Air Force, Coast Guard, Merchant Marine, and Prisoners of War (POW) and Missing In Action (MIA) will be placed on memorials following some brief remarks by Mayor Nystrom and State Senator Osten. 

Following the conclusion of the ceremony at Sacred Heart Cemetery, there will be a second ceremony with nine wreaths placed in Monument Park at Chelsea Parade.

If only for the few moments the two ceremonies take, neither we nor those whose sacrifice we are remembering are alone, and that's as it should be, and not just for the holidays. No matter the temperature and weather conditions, your presence will warm the hearts of the organizers as well as your own.

As an attendee in previous years I always admire the words offered by those who speak during the ceremonies because I can never find my own words to capture the essence and adequately describe a heartfelt and homegrown acknowledgment of the lives of our departed veterans (of all services and from every conflict and era of our history). 

It's a time for us as a community to gather, reflect, and remember the fallen, honor those still in service and remind one another freedom is free only with sacrifice. 

I’ll look for you Saturday at noon.

-bill kenny

A. N. Palmer Died for Someone's Sins

I came across a news story that will probably not evoke a lot of happy school-day memories from my left-handed siblings (who have an under-handed sibling in me). 

Cursive writing is making a comeback (exclamation points sold separately at fine stores everywhere), most recently in The Garden State (I'm imagining 'fuhgeddaboudit' in script; maybe something like Fuhgeddaboudit). Not sure how Tony Soprano would feel about that.

I will confess that I did NOT know teaching cursive penmanship had been disappearing from classrooms across the country from years (based on recent experiences I assumed it had been outlawed in medical schools), but now, it's on the comeback trail. 

I'm thinking we should start to watch the police logs in the coming months to see if there's an upward trend in illegible hold-up notes.

-bill kenny

Rainy Day Women #12 & 35 Need Not Apply

We're an odd lot, us Crown of Creation types, who cover this earth like Sherwin-Williams Paint with often just about the same amount of intelligence as a can of the no-drip enamel finish stuff. 

While there are as many hours in the days that comprise the weekend as there are of those during the week, news organizations, be they print, online and/or electronic, tend to bare-bones staff their weekend crews so you have fewer people covering and reporting at any length on events, be they across the street or around the globe. 

I guess that's what happened here though in The City That Never Sleeps I'd have assumed the New York Daily News would have already had its hands full.  Not surprisingly, the coverage by ABC News Australia of the same item is much more expansive.     

I leave the next to last word on all of this to the South Australia Police. 
And invoke Bob Dylan for the absolute final one. 
-bill kenny

Presidents, Residents, Foreigners, and Aliens

A memory of the season, and the Second Sunday of Advent for me at least. 

Somewhere on the way to here and now, I lost my way. Not as in shuffled off the beaten path and got lost, but defiantly chose to not do as those who came before me had so chosen for generations. Too stiff-necked to this day to acknowledge my failings and weaknesses, I'm often in doubt but never in error. At least in my own mind.

Advent is a season of preparation; for the devout, it is for the coming of the Savior. The annual path to the birth of Christ began last Sunday and I know the calendar and the ritual. But I've never been quite sure what it is people like me are doing or supposed to do as flail about seeking land and trying to keep our heads above water theologically.

I envy those who bundle up and head out for early Mass, with confession beforehand and who can then leave the church fortified for their week ahead. I miss the comfort of the ritual and the sense of shared belonging. I fill up my hollow days with noise to distract me from hearing the approaching roar. 

I've never been clear if I should look to the future with anticipation or fear. However, I do understand I'll find out soon enough and far sooner than planned.

-bill kenny