Down the Rabbit Hole?

Last week there was another school shooting. This time the perpetrator was apprehended alive and taken into custody, while still in possession of the firearm. Fortunately, there was only one victim and the wounded individual will recover from all but the lingering trauma.

While it might seem that this shooting was far less horrendous than one in which there were multiple deaths and seriously wounded and in which the shooter dies, leaving us with no idea of motive, I guarantee you that this shooting is far more shocking than any previous.

The shooter is six-years old and he shot his 24-year old teacher. Say what? What kind of environment so warps a young mind that he finds a gun, takes it to school, and, because he had an argument with his teacher, shoots her?

When I was five years old, I lived on the edges of one of Cleveland, Ohio's ghetto neighborhoods. I never heard gunfire. When I was six and in first grade, I was more concerned with coloring inside the lines and counting the pennies, nickels, and dimes on the page in my arithmetic book than in arguing with my teacher, unheard of, or taking one of my father's firearms and waltzing into school to shoot Mrs. Martin, also unheard of.

This is sheer insanity! The parents have some serious explaining to do because I'm certain that even the shadiest dealer in guns, legal or otherwise, would not sell one to a six-year old. The questions just keep coming on this one.

I think I fell down the rabbit hole into an alternative universe.