Hello my loyal readers. My latest book I’ve been working on is getting really close to completion. At the moment I’ve called it Blood on Poinsettia. As I mentioned when the news story broke that the book I’m writing is based loosely on the four murdered college students at the University of Idaho. I changed a good portion of what is relevant to the plot as opposed to the actual events that took place back in November 2022.
It brings me to the point of this thing we all have delt with, dwelled upon, and debated over since Columbine, our new national pastime of open season on human children here in America. You see, my loyal readers, I’m beyond angry, upset and helplessly hoping that someone somewhere decides to do something tangible about what has been going on for nearly thirty years.
It has absolutely nothing at all to do with our rights to bear arms. If anybody who knows me can vouch I am in favor of law-abiding citizens owning and possessing firearms to protect family, life, and property. What I have a problem with is this attitude where every time someone wants to do something that makes perfectly good sense, someone else blows a gasket because somehow this idea will take away their gun rights, and then the cycle repeats itself with another school shooting somewhere.
I’m frankly tired of turning on the news and crying for the children caught in the crosshairs of some lunatic that somehow got himself possession of a firearm—no firearms that he apparently got legally because no one questioned him about what he intended to do with four AR-15 or AK-47s with six hundred rounds of bullets. CHA-CHING.
Excuse my French but I’m tired of the connerie. How many mass shootings so far involving school children? It doesn’t take a mathematician any time at all to rationalize that too many children die needlessly every year. Mass shootings may be a small fraction of the horrors one must face with a child being struct down by gun violence. Do you want to be that parent who is informed that Bobby or Shirley or Charlie won’t ever come home from school by a police officer, a doctor, or your clergyman? I don’t want to wish that on any parent.
It was tragic enough for my sisters and me when our mother died tragically in an automobile accident going on fourteen years now. My sisters and I were emotional wrecks for the better part of a year. Let’s figure out a way to closed down this open season on our children, this new national pastime.
Jerry Schellhammer 