He planned on killing his father. Instead he found his humanity.
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In the past week and really for most of the year there have been countless articles written and debates held over mass shootings and gun control. You hear the stories about the victims and your heart breaks as you imagine those victims were people you knew. On the other hand, you hear about the shooter and wonder how someone could be so evil. You could never imagine yourself being able to do something so heinous. So of course those people must be crazy or radicals from some Anti-American group. We can’t reason with those types of people, all we can do is either take the guns away from them or make sure everyone that is “good” should also own a gun. That should solve everything, right?
I might have thought the same way if I hadn’t killed my father.
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My body shakes with rage as I punch the dashboard console of my car until my knuckles begin bleeding. I seldom swear but on that day the only word in my vocabulary consisted of four letters. It’s late afternoon and I’m parked on the side of the road in a residential neighborhood. I’ve just got into a heated argument with my father. No punches were thrown, but for the first time in my life I was honest with my father. Brutally honest.
“F*&K you! You were never my father. I hate you. You’re nobody to me.”
Those words were like a match to kindling. It ignited his anger and propelled him like a missile toward me. I froze and braced for impact. Luckily he didn’t throw a punch because he would certainly have knocked me out, instead he put me in a headlock and as I prepared to throw a punch my mother intervened by jumping on his back. Transforming into a mother bear she screamed and clawed at him.
Why would she go back to him? He’s abusive to her and if she stays with him she’ll probably end up dead. I won’t let that happen.
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“Don’t you ever touch my boy.”
Afraid that someone would call the cops, my father pleaded with her to shut up as he quickly backed away from me. He couldn’t risk running into the police since he had a warrant out for his arrest and would probably face jail time if caught, but before he left he made sure I knew that if he ever saw me again that he’d kill me. It wasn’t the first time he threatened my life so I wasn’t scared and at that point I had gotten used to his threats toward me.
What set me off was what happened next. Once my father had run out of sight I headed for my car and motioned for my mother to come with me. She looked at me like a deer in headlights. I couldn’t understand why she hesitated but when she did I knew the choice she would make.
“Just go. I’ll be fine. He’s not going to hurt me. Don’t worry about me son.”
My heart exploded in my chest as I stood there trembling with rage. How could she do that? Why would she go back to him? He’s abusive to her and if she stays with him she’ll probably end up dead. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.
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While I bled over my steering wheel I searched for a gun store. The nearest one is Sports Authority and once I get there I’ve already laid out how and why I was going to kill my father. First of all, my father would never expect it coming from me. I’d be the last person he’d be wary about. I had always been his verbal punching bag and he always believed I was a sissy. That meant I could get close enough to shoot and not miss.
It was only going to be a one time deal so one gun would suffice with the least amount of ammo.
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Why? He didn’t deserve to live. The majority of the time I’ve known him he has done nothing but hurt the family. His drug abuse problem destroyed our family finances and attributed to my mom losing the best job she had ever had. On top of that he was abusive to my mother. I don’t know how many times I had to lie to my father because my mom was in a protective shelter. Then like a moth to the flame she’d go back to him again. It didn’t seem like my mom could help herself and the only way she could have a happy life would be if my father was dead. That seemed logical.
Now you may wonder if I was scared about going to prison. I honestly thought I could get away with it because I couldn’t see a jury sending me to prison after what I would share with them about my father. They’d probably give me a pat on the back for a job well done but even if there was a chance I’d go to jail the safety of mother would be worth it.
Even if it could be considered a justifiable homicide I would have never been able to live with the fact that I killed my father. No matter how deserving I thought he was.
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So there I was standing in front of the gun section contemplating the price and the amount of rounds I needed. It was only going to be a one-time deal so one gun would suffice, with the least amount of ammo. While standing there I started to get a bad feeling in my stomach. You know the one you get when you know you’re making a mistake. I tried to push it down but as the Sports Authority employee asked me if I had any questions I said no.
I walked out of that store empty handed and emotionally exhausted. Slumping into the drivers seat I closed my eyes and cried. After taking a few deep breaths I drove to a park overlooking the ocean and stared into the blue. What was I thinking? How could I be so close to doing something so horrific? Even if it could be considered a justifiable homicide I would have never been able to live with the fact that I killed my father. No matter how deserving I thought he was.
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That moment has and will always serve as a reminder to me that the line between my father and I aren’t as far apart as I’d like to think. No, I didn’t kill my father but I had done everything in my mind that would have led me down that path. I no longer saw him as a person and I had come to a point in my life that his death seemed to be for the greater good. My mind had become warped because of emotional abuse I had taken and the helplessness I felt on that day. I didn’t think there was any other way and if there was I had already exhausted those options.
When I look at him now I don’t see the drug addict or the abuser. I see a person who grew up rough during a time when abuse wasn’t reported or taken seriously.
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My experience has helped me pause before assuming a shooter is pure evil because I know how easy it can be to go down that homicidal road when your life seems out of control. Now I don’t mean there is ever a good reason to kill anyone let alone massacre innocent victims but I think it’s important to consider the humanity of the shooter if we want to deter gun violence from occurring as often as it does today.
For example, in the years since I’ve come to grow in compassion for my father after learning more about his upbringing. When I look at him now I don’t see the drug addict or the abuser. I see a person who grew up rough during a time when abuse wasn’t reported or taken seriously. Based on the stories I’ve heard my life could have been far worse if he had treated me the way he was raised. He grew up in a violent world without much support and because of that he turned to drugs to mitigate the internal issues he was facing. Those drugs took away the caring father that once stood over my crib to keep the mosquitos away and gave me the monster that would wreck havoc over my family.
We can do all we can to makes sure guns don’t fall into the wrong hands…those things doesn’t change the fact that there are people in our country who feel angry enough to kill.
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This knowledge not only helped me forgive my father but also provided a blueprint on how I could prevent myself from becoming like him. I knew I had to learn how to deal with my temper and let go of the past. It was obvious that drugs wasn’t the answer so I sought out therapy and practiced my faith, which has helped me navigate through my anger and leave the past behind me.
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We can do all we can to makes sure guns don’t fall into the wrong hands or by giving everyone a gun for protection. However, thosethings doesn’t change the fact that there are people in our country who feel angry enough to kill. Where is this hate coming from and can it be resolved? These answers can only be found by seeing them as human beings who have gone down the wrong path. A person whose decisions were influenced by the environment they grew up in. Possibly individuals who feel powerless as I did and out of an act of fury sought to take back power through violence. If we can do that as a country then maybe we can prevent another mass shooter from taking another life by showing them our humanity.
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Photo: Flickr/Karl-Ludwig Poggemann