Jul 8

Jul 8 Coping

Chicago, Demonstrations, Public Declarations

“I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I’d see you again”

— James Taylor, Fire and Rain, from Sweet Baby James (1970)

On Tuesday of this week, the locusts descended on Highland Park, repeating a familiar drill that follows in the wake of every major mass shooting. Today, a couple of their tents remained, but with the exception of the local news stations, most of the reporters, technicians, and broadcasters were gone. An eerie calm hung over the perimeters of the crime scene, which as of Friday evening, still remained closed to the public.

As was true on Tuesday, the downtown streets were largely devoid of people. I traversed the entire downtown area, only to discover that many businesses were either closed or that there were no customers inside.

When the drizzle started, I ducked inside a local coffee shop. There was only one other customer there. We spoke for about 15 minutes. When I did see people, they were grouped in twos and threes, often carrying cellophane-wrapped bouquets of flowers as they headed to the intersection of 1st and Central, which is where the two major memorials are located.

The larger of the two is on the northwest corner. Prior to Monday, it was Highland Park’s memorial to those who died in the Vietnam War. While it still is a war memorial, the space was now doing double duty as a memorial to our domestic dead and wounded. Most of those leaving flower bouquets piled them on top of the existing semicircle of flowers, together with stuffed animals, candles, and signs echoing now familiar sentiments regarding gun violence. There are seven hearts on poles commemorating each of the individuals who died when Robert “Bobby” Crimo III allegedly decided to do the unthinkable.

On the southwest corner there is another memorial where large photographs of the deceased are displayed on white stands. The two men who regularly build memorials to commemorate mass shooting victims delivered them Thursday. If I recall correctly, the two live in either Colorado or California. This is their calling, and unfortunately the call comes much to frequently.

Throughout the day, adults and children arrived to pay their respects. Most did not linger. Some knelt to pray, others stared, and many hugged each other, but few stayed more than five or ten minutes.

The support golden retrievers were back, as were members of various religious faiths, including people from Billy Graham’s ministry, members of the Jehovah Witnesses, and young Jewish men dressed in black suits and hats, asking men whether they were Jewish. The young Hasidim offered to wrap the arm of the man who answered “yes” with tefillin, sometimes referred to as phylactery. I encountered a group of these young men on the train from Chicago.

Another man lugging a gigantic cross was circling the crime scene when I first arrived. I later encountered him with the cross at one of the memorials. Not surprisingly, an American Red Cross disaster relief team was located immediately to the east of the Vietnam War memorial.

A number of vigils are planned for Saturday and Sunday, but what happens after those events is anybody’s guess. My bet is that several weeks after the dead have been buried, the community will hold a large rally demanding curbs on guns, particularly assault weapons.

Members of the community will most likely be hit with the shooting’s gravity sometime next week. As is true when anyone dies, the events leading up to the funeral serve as a distraction. There is lots of conversation and even laugher, as well as trays of fruit, cookies, and sandwiches. Once the friends and family are gone, the survivors are left to come to terms with their loss. That’s when the going gets tough.

[Click on an Image to Enlarge It]