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tragedy update
Apr. 26th, 2009 01:19 pmThe shooter is still at large 24 hours later, but at this point could literally be anywhere. The fact that he hasn't used his cell phone, ATM cards, credit cards, or passport makes me think he's dead, and probably not too far away, but the fact that they haven't found him yet is a little odd, since they have obviously been looking like crazy.
My boss FK has posted a lot of pictures on Facebook of her smiling friend, the main target, with the theater company.
I turned out to know the wife of one of the victims; she is a much-beloved English professor who runs the Bulldog Book Club that we participate in as part of our work. She and her husband are the sort of people who have friends and acquaintances over every Christmas and Midsummer to read a Shakespeare play aloud. I have seen a description of their marriage that noted that they met as undergraduates (he was 63) and their lives were interwoven like those of two plants that have grown together over time. Here's a page from his website that I thought would resonate with many of you:
(From http://www.benteague.com/books/index.html)
'Fran's mother told her, "Marry a reader. Nobody else will understand when he comes home from work to find you've done nothing all day but sit with your feet up and a book in your hands." Good advice; probably it did not occur to her that it might be Fran who'd come home wanting to know if her support staff had picked up the drycleaning, paid the electric bill, and so forth.
Or that there might be a destructive feedback if two heavy readers get together. (The Nick and Nora Charles effect.) We declared the third bedroom in our house a library, but most often it looks like 4:30 in the afternoon at the garage sale. (To be fair, keeping the table saw in there doesn't help.) The shelves filled up some three weeks after we moved in, and now not only do we not have enough bookcases, we don't have room for enough bookcases. No doubt a skilled storage consultant could straighten this out, or a competent arsonist.'
A great loss for the community, as are the other deaths.
My boss FK has posted a lot of pictures on Facebook of her smiling friend, the main target, with the theater company.
I turned out to know the wife of one of the victims; she is a much-beloved English professor who runs the Bulldog Book Club that we participate in as part of our work. She and her husband are the sort of people who have friends and acquaintances over every Christmas and Midsummer to read a Shakespeare play aloud. I have seen a description of their marriage that noted that they met as undergraduates (he was 63) and their lives were interwoven like those of two plants that have grown together over time. Here's a page from his website that I thought would resonate with many of you:
(From http://www.benteague.com/books/index.html)
'Fran's mother told her, "Marry a reader. Nobody else will understand when he comes home from work to find you've done nothing all day but sit with your feet up and a book in your hands." Good advice; probably it did not occur to her that it might be Fran who'd come home wanting to know if her support staff had picked up the drycleaning, paid the electric bill, and so forth.
Or that there might be a destructive feedback if two heavy readers get together. (The Nick and Nora Charles effect.) We declared the third bedroom in our house a library, but most often it looks like 4:30 in the afternoon at the garage sale. (To be fair, keeping the table saw in there doesn't help.) The shelves filled up some three weeks after we moved in, and now not only do we not have enough bookcases, we don't have room for enough bookcases. No doubt a skilled storage consultant could straighten this out, or a competent arsonist.'
A great loss for the community, as are the other deaths.
