The Waukesha Parade Tragedy, Ten Days Later

Folks, on November 21, 2021, a man who I shall not name drove his SUV into a parade route and injured over sixty people, killing six. The youngest of the six was eight; the oldest of the six was eighty-one.

There are any number of GoFundMes set up for various people who got hurt during the Waukesha Parade, but the best place to go to see a good number of them is here. I do urge you to donate, if you can.

Anyway, I’ve found the Waukesha Parade tragedy an extremely difficult thing to talk about, because some of those hit by the driver (I’ve called him a lunatic/maniac/criminal on Facebook, and that does seem to fit) were musicians who played in the Waukesha South Marching Band.

I can easily picture myself doing what those young musicians were — just playing their music, minding their own business, trying to make people happy during the holidays — and get so upset, so frustrated, and so deeply angry that anyone would want to interfere with those kids just playing their horns that it’s been all I can do not to break into tears at odd moments.

My best friend played in the Lighthouse Brigade Band (in Racine). So did my sister. So did quite a few of my high school bandmates. (I didn’t, because my first instrument was the oboe. There is no such thing as a marching oboist. I didn’t take up the sax until fifteen, and the clarinet until seventeen.) So I can easily put the people I know into that context, and think, “There but for the grace of God…”

Yet, why should we have to think this, when all we want to do is spread a little holiday cheer?

There’s another reason this all hit home, too. That’s in the nature of what happened with the Dancing Grannies, a beloved Milwaukee-area institution. You have to be a grandmother to dance with the Dancing Grannies. And one member, just fifty-two, was performing for the very first (and last) time. While another member, seventy-nine, filled in at the last minute by holding the banner (as someone had to do it).

Four people affiliated with the Dancing Grannies died. (One was one of the Dancing Grannies’ husbands.)

I know how it feels to go from wife to widow in the blink of an eye. (At least, it feels like it, at the time.) And I also know how awful it is to have to go see your spouse, in the hospital, hooked up to multitudinous machines, just praying to God/dess that you will somehow, some way, be able to hug your husband again. Hear his voice again. Hell, even hear him complain again about something…just so long as he’s there to do it, you see.

Too many people lost their spouses, suddenly, for no damned good reason.

And too many kids, just playing in the band and doing their best to uplift people’s spirits, were injured as well.

The child who died was only eight, and he played baseball. His twelve-year-old brother was apparently thrown out of the way (best I could tell from grainy video evidence), as he had road rash (which he’d most likely not have had if he’d been hit) and much lesser injuries than his younger brother.

So, I keep thinking of the last acts of the Dancing Grannies. Some of them were trying to get others out of the way, knowing full well they were going to be hurt, or killed. But doing what they could in a time of crisis to save lives was an admirable act of selflessness that I wish was being celebrated in the news.

I have a category here on my blog called “Truly Horrible Behavior.” The actions of that SUV driver qualify.

I truly wish that SUV driver had never gone onto the Waukesha parade route at all, much less hit all those people. But as my wishes don’t count for much after the fact — and before the fact, who could’ve possibly thought of something so vile? — I don’t know what to say other than this:

Keep the spirit of the holidays in your heart, despite it all.

Care for others, even if it doesn’t seem worth it.

Let those you love know it, even if it sounds silly or contrived. (The action of saying it isn’t, no matter how it sounds.)

Find a cause you care about, and donate time, or money, or whatever else you can think of to it, because life is short, and meaningful acts sometimes seem shorter still.

Remember those who lost their lives.

Remember those who were injured.

And, finally, do what you can to drive back the darkness. It’s tough. I know that. (I am fighting as hard as I can, myself.) But we must live through all this, as witnesses, and do what we can to shape a better world, one act of grace at a time.

Tragedy in VA as Disgruntled Newsman Kills Two Journalists — On Air

Folks, words like “tragedy,” ” horrific,” “horrendous,” and even “heinous” are overused in today’s day and age. But they’re the only words that come to mind right now after viewing, and hearing, about the cowardly shooting of two journalists at WDBJ channel 7 in Virginia this morning while they were broadcasting on the air.

Both journalists — 24-year-old Alison Parker and 27-year-old Adam Ward — died at the scene. The person being interviewed at the time, Vicki Gardner, was shot in the back and is said to be in surgery.

The reason for this senseless killing remains a mystery. Only cryptic hints have emerged thus far, as the gunman, a disgruntled former employee of WDBJ who I refuse to name, decided to film these brutal executions and put them on Facebook.

Apparently, this individual was in a white-hot rage about something. So he took his anger and frustration out on Ms. Parker, who was interviewing Ms. Gardner at 6:45 a.m. local time, and on Mr. Ward, who was filming the interview.

Irony of ironies, Mr. Ward got one last shot of his killer before he died.

What’s even sadder than the fact these two young journalists died is this: They were in the middle of a “puff piece.” Something about tourism, and the local Chamber of Commerce.

No one should die for something like that.

In addition, anchor Carol Costello of CNN — visibly shaken — reported that Ms. Harper was on her final day at WDBJ.

For whatever it’s worth, the latest news from CNN is that the gunman has been captured after apparently shooting himself. He is currently alive, in police custody, and is supposedly being taken to a hospital, condition unknown.

It is unfathomable to me that this happened.

I probably don’t need to say this to anyone, but I’m going to anyway: If you are so angry that you want to kill a former co-worker (as Mr. Ward apparently worked with the shooter), you need to get yourself some psychiatric help. Fast.

And if you have any room in your heart, please remember the friends, family, and coworkers of Ms. Harper and Mr. Ward. Pray that they find peace, if you can. Because many of them saw Ms. Harper and Mr. Ward in their final moments, during the middle of that puff piece, just another ordinary day in broadcasting.

Until it wasn’t.

And no one — but no one — should ever have to see anything remotely like that on the air.

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Here’s a quote from Mr. Ward’s alma mate Virginia Tech (via CNN) that sums up my feelings completely:

 “It is shocking and deeply saddening for this community to be again struck by gun violence. We deplore this senseless violence, now seemingly commonplace in our society.”