Last week, while I was in Canada for work, my baby brother
sent me this text message:
He sent this on the heels of 45’s latest idiocy that ended
up inviting threats from the holders of weapons of mass destruction. These
weapons have been tested and could easily make it to the West coast, most
certainly putting my Los Angeles apartment at risk.
He had the foresight to jokingly tell me to remain in Canada
should we suffer a tragedy at the hands of terrorism that could span the
Pacific Ocean and reach LA.
What he didn’t warn me was to stay in Canada just in case a
fellow American checked into a hotel with his own weapons of mass destruction in my favorite city, my true home, Las
Vegas, NV. He didn’t tell me not to go to Las Vegas, like I do most weekends.
My baby brother wouldn’t think to warn anyone against attending a music
festival on the Vegas strip on a Sunday night. The threat according to him, and
many of us, is coming from the outside. Yet, we find ourselves mourning the
loss of 59 human lives and the forever-devastation to thousands more because of
one US Citizen with more weapons than any human being needs.
I cannot articulate how much of a home I have in Las Vegas.
It is equally as difficult to compose the proper words to convey how this
massacre has had an effect on me and everyone I care about, especially my loved
ones close to the scene of the crime, but I am attempting it because in these
times, I write. In these times, I put words down and I brain-dump because every
single thought in my brain is trying to come out and it’s the only thing I can
do right now to help, even if I can only just help myself by doing so. I may
not have an original thought to share and I may not be an expert on “feeling”
but this is what I do. In these times, it’s what I can do to feel some control
over a senseless tragedy.
I grew up in New York and I was still living there on
September 11th, 2001. I watched our first responders in Mt. Vernon,
NY fly like bats right into hell. I
held candles at the local vigil and felt united with my fellow New Yorkers, and
the world, after the horrific scene that transpired at the hands of outsiders.
This – feels – no – different.
This is terrorism.
This is not the hotel’s fault. This is not ISIS. This is not
a sect of religious extremists carrying out a message. There is no amount of
explanation into the psyche of the US Citizen that did this that will provide
any comfort and nothing will justify it – it’s terrorism.
One person was able to acquire weapons, both legally and
illegally, that are entirely unnecessary for a private citizen to own and that
one person knew well enough to keep it from those closest to him. That one person
took 59 lives and changed countless more in a matter of minutes. That one
person was a white, male, United States citizen.
And then there is the aftermath; nothing short of inspiring.
I’m not at all surprised to see the 6-hour wait at the blood banks, or donation
centers turning away donations because their needs are met, or my dearest
friends clearing their schedule to provide rides, food deliveries, comfort,
support, supplies, and more. I’m not surprised that the community has come
together in the wake of devastation to prove there is good in this world. I’m
not surprised at the amount of texts and phone calls I have received to make
sure I am okay and everyone I love is okay. None of this is surprising because
I know what we are capable of. It’s simply a goddamn shame that it’s asked of
us – but so be it.
This happened to all of us. We are not okay. But we will be.
Now is absolutely the time and anyone who says otherwise has
an agenda.
My home… Las Vegas, Nevada – I want to know what
happened in Vegas can help change the nation.
