Las Vegas Massacre, October 1, 2017

Add cPeople run from the Route 91 Harvest country music festival
after apparent gun fire was heard on October 1, 2017 in
Las Vegas, Nevada. © David Becker / Getty Images / AFPaption

I was awake at 2 a.m. finishing my blog post for Book 161 when I saw the first reports of a shooting that had killed 20 people in Las Vegas. I thought, Vegas? This can't happen in Vegas. I've been to Vegas. Cops are on every corner. But it did. And it came from above. And it was really, really bad. 

By the time I got to work the confirmed death toll had risen from 20 to 50, and the wounded had risen from 100 to over 400. By noon, the 58 were dead, and more than 500 were injured. I am absolutely wrecked, and I know the city of Las Vegas will never be the same. 

We always ask the questions when this kind of thing happens. Who was the shooter? Did he have connections to terrorist groups? What were his motives? Were there warning signs that were ignored? Did anyone interview his neighbors, relatives, and friends? And even when the answers come (sometimes immediately, sometimes more slowly), we don't feel safe or whole. We feel vulnerable, and we know we could very well be next. 

Then, as if it's helpful, legislators speak out about bad gun control policies. "This crisis could have been averted if we had a 10-month waiting period." "Bullets should be taxed at a premium." "The hotel should have had a metal detector." "Politicians should not accept campaign contributions from the NRA." So we say all of this and do some things about it, and yet, the next month, the same thing happens again, in a different city. We scramble around, trying to find more reasons, more systems that failed, and work to repair them, after the fact. But it just. keeps. happening. 

We are missing something huge here: a lack of familial and community vigilance. People are becoming more isolated as others are consumed by the day to day business of life. There are no warning signs to be seen because the most deranged individuals hide right under our noses. They emerge from the shadows when it's their time to kill, and no one is the wiser. Then they strike. Then we are shocked, and we talk to the police and the media and say, "He was quiet. He didn't bother anybody. We cannot believe this violent person lived right next to us." The shooter's sister says, "Yeah, he was weird, but we didn't expect this. He seemed fine when I saw him last year."

Certain types of animals - especially those in herds - recognize that sick or injured animals are a threat to their larger communities. While some care for one another, nursing weaker members back to health, others forcefully separate the sick or injured from the herd, leaving them to survive or die on their own. In animal communities, when something goes wrong with one of their members, they know it. And they take action - one way or another - to protect themselves.

All of our societal advances are for nothing if we don't open our eyes and see that our isolation from one another is a weakness, not a strength. Within our families and communities we must identify and care for those who are mentally unstable or emotionally unsound, before they become a danger to themselves or others.

October 10th is #WorldMentalHealthDay, and mental health is a topic I am passionate about. I had planned to publish something about recognizing your own issues before they get out of control, and not being ashamed to talk to someone when you think you need help. I had planned to write about checking in on your neighbors and keeping tabs on your less than social family members. I had planned to discuss stigma in our society and how it reduces our ability to effectively treat those suffering from mental health issues. Looks like the only thing I'll be posting on #WorldMentalHealthDay is information on how to get help.

R.I.P., Las Vegas victims. I'll be looking for ways to help remotely.

💔💔💔

#Stoptheviolence