Through the eyes of an eight year old…

I swore I’d never mention the kids or get personal on this site ever again, but this was too much.

After last night’s entry, I was heading to grab a cigarette, where I heard Erika calling for me.

“Daddy, can you stay with me until I fall asleep?”, she asked in her timid, squeaky voice, “I think I’m going to have a nightmare tonight.”

I knew what was coming. I knew they shouldn’t have watched it. I even went to work an hour late to hear the all-too-graphic account of Timothy McVeigh’s execution. We were riveted. It was too compelling. It was good journalism. It was good tv.

Daddy: “Wanna talk about it?”
Erika: “Why did that man have to die?”
Daddy: “He was a bad man, honey. He killed a lot of people.”
Erika: “But the prison killed him. Isn’t that bad too?”

Dammit to hell. Out of the mouths of babes.

I usually have an answer for everything. What happened to mommy, why we’re living somewhere else, even why loved ones have to die… this time I was stumped. I couldn’t even rationalize it to myself.

I am *SO* for the death penalty. I’m glad this war-hero-turned-killing-machine will never get a chance to repeat this atrocity again. Now that gurney is free for not only more killers, but drug dealers, rapists, hatemongers, child molesters, foreign and domestic terrorists, and mimes.

But I feel as hollow and as empty as most of the family members/survivors who went to see this monster off into the next world.

I know why he did it. Waco was this Country’s biggest fuckup/coverup since, well… ever! The difference? I watched it on the news, said: “wow, that was fucked up”, grabbed a coke and watched a comedy on channel 11. He blew up a building full of civilians who may or may not have felt the same thing. I’m sure the 19 children killed never heard of Waco, TX.

Like John, I think this is far from over. There are more David Korresh’s and more Timothy McVeigh’s who are more than ready to take their place in Militias all over the United States.

Yesterday, one of their “heroes” became a martyr.
Having Janet Reno smirking on TV about it didn’t help either.

I can’t explain this to an eight year old. I can’t explain how I tapped into the darkest depths of my soul yesterday, and mustered up all my anger and hatred toward another human being and was glad he paid the ultimate price… despite denying us, the “good” people of society, the satifaction of him suffering and begging that his life be spared. Even angrier that he “got off so easy”.

We killed Timothy McVeigh to prove killing was wrong. For the first time in my life, I grasped that concept…. and *that’s* why I feel so hollow inside.

Well, I could *try* to explain this… but this is what we’re supposed to be shielding our children from.

I don’t want these people in the same world as my children. And I know one day I will no longer be around to protect them.

I know too much… and I’d give anything to see the world through the eyes of an eight year old again.

3 thoughts on “Through the eyes of an eight year old…

  1. Eric, that was very profound. Isn’t it amazing the things children can teach us? Ah, and cognitive dissonance is quite the sensation, too, isn’t it? Give that girl a hug, Eric, and thank you for sharing this.

  2. Eric,
    Wow. You so nailed this- all of it. I’m trying to think of something appropriate to say but my mind is still spinning over that entry… Thank you.

  3. Thanx guys!
    Redgie posted a pretty good, almost-eyewitness view of Oklahoma City.

    Yeah… Erika’s something else. She’s like a kid genius or something. Well they *all* are. Christina learned Powerpoint in school, and makes these cool presentations. I can’t figure out Powerpoint for shit. :0)

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