This is just a picture.
I made it roughly a decade ago. I made it on Christmas Eve 2012. I made it at the bonfires on the river near Lutcher, Louisiana. We light the bonfires to guide Papa Noel down the Mississippi River to New Orleans so all the fine people of the city can receive their Christmas gifts.
This picture is special. Well, it is if you like horrible memorials.
See all those little crosses in the foreground? They are memorials for the children killed at Sandy Hook. There were twenty six people killed. Twenty of them were children between six and seven years old. Six were adult staff members.
Nothing came of it. Nothing changed. Hope and prayers were offered by NRA sponsored politicians. They said it wasn’t the right time to talk about it. It never is.
I watched history repeat itself today. It started on social media. First, it was a few killed and many wounded. Eventually that turned around. There were way more killed than wounded. Nineteen students and two adults.
It happened in Uvalde, Texas.
It watched my friends everywhere post sad and angry words. I watched the president make one of the most saddest, weary speeches I think I’ve ever heard. It was short. Seven minutes.
Now, comes my cynical self.
The nashing of teeth and crying tears of sadness will last for a few weeks. Like those mass shootings that came before this — like the one in the grocery store less than two weeks ago — it will all drift into the mist of history. Or better yet, the fog of war. Because, it is a war.
Unless.
We all actually do something about it.
I will. Will you?
Peace.
STORYTELLER 
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