My Facebook feed is flooded with pictures and comments from friends and families in places where it feels to some like civilization is crumbling.
“It’s all…gone.”
I have seen it about businesses lost to looters and vandals and from others who talk about the hate that seems to have been unleashed.
Friends in LA reach out and tell me about what I am not hearing and seeing, some reminding me they are armed and can help if I know of people who need it.
Memories of the LA Riots come flooding back with the videos, the stories and the conversations and I remember how much I have forgotten but this time my eyes are different.
This time I am 1,457 miles away and dad and I won’t argue about whether it is safe for me to be out at night.
I can’t just drive to friends apartments and tell them to come with me because it will be safer. Can’t just show up at a moments notice to help and probably am not really needed.
But I know I’ll be on high alert for a bit and prepared to start driving. It is a long drive to El Paso, rest for a few hours and then one more long drive and I am back.
Lines In The Sand
Looking back upon the prior post and thinking about the lines in the sand drawn and yet to be.
I hear dad’s voice and the promise he asked me to make and hear my own son asking if I know what response I create when I act in certain ways.
He always cocks his head to the side when I say I understand exactly what he means. There is no one else who will because dad is gone.
It is one thing that my mother and sisters won’t get and I am ok with it. Sometimes dad and I would kid around about it a bit, that is what happens when you are the only men in a house full of women.
****
The National Guard is being called up.
I see comments from younger fraternity brothers who were too young to remember the last time and remarks from transplants to LA about it.
Breaks my heart to see history repeat itself.
George Floyd was clearly murdered and justice is required. There are many others who deserve it too and I haven’t any problem demanding equality.
My Black friends and their families deserve it.
The violence that is coming alongside the protests is a huge problem that dilutes the message and creates an unnecessary distraction.
A small group is throwing gasoline on a fire and it is so very unfair. I keep hearing whispers and rumors about who might be doing this and shake my head.
They hurt the cause and now we see local government being forced to step up its game and it concerns me for a host of reasons.
Pandora’s Box has been opened and it is going to take some time to shut it and the unpredictability of what happens is an issue.
It doesn’t take much for many people to be hurt or killed.
If we didn’t have a corrupt and horrifically bad president things would be better but we do and now we see more of the impact of the poison he has been feeding his followers.
Now we see him fanning the flames and I can’t decide if he understands exactly what he is doing or is so blind he doesn’t recognize he pours gasoline on a fire.
Sadly it was predictable, but here we are.
Here is what 51 years of life that includes having been evacuated from a forest fire, lived through the ’92 riots and several devastating earthquakes.
If you don’t have a pack you have to find one. We get through these moments by leveraging the strength of the pack and figuring out what comes next.
It is that hard and that simple.
I don’t know what tomorrow brings but the truth is we never really do.
It is one day at a time, but it always has been, even if sometimes it is easier to see the sunshine than others.
