Yesterday a mentally ill man went into a small cafe near where I live and shot five people. Four of them died. Then he fled, shot and killed a woman downtown and took her car. When the police finally cornered him in West Seattle he turned the gun on himself.
End of story? Not even close.
This sort of thing isn’t supposed to happen in Seattle. People here tend to think of themselves as free-thinking independents, concerned for the environment but progressive in terms of social values. Generally it’s a peaceful place. But this year the number of gun deaths has shot well above the norm – as if there’s anything normal about gun-related deaths.
I understand the need for guns. Hunting is a primal activity, hard-wired in our genetic code. But when the line between survival and recreation gets blurred, when the perception of reality becomes unbalanced, as it does for thousands of people dealing with mental illnesses, the possession of a gun becomes more dangerous.
I make no claim to be an expert on the issue, but I’ve lived among folks who like to hunt, who get cranky whenever anyone suggests that guns shouldn’t be available to every man, woman and child in the country. But not everyone should be allowed to carry a gun.
At this point the idea of gun control in this country almost seems like a lost cause. There are sooooo many weapons in this country. In addition to the millions of firearms owned by the military, at last count there were an estimated 200 million privately-owned guns in the US. Yet if we can’t stop the spread of the weapons, wouldn’t it be a good idea to at least do what we can to keep an eye on the mentally ill people wandering unsupervised in our midst?
The issue of mental health rarely gets the attention it deserves. Those who lose the ability to control their minds become at the mercy of others. Ever since the well-intentioned but ill-considered massive deinstitutionalization movement of the early 60s states have been releasing supposedly harmless mental patients from facilities, sparking an increase in homelessness. If we as a nation abandon those who cannot think clearly as a result of chemical imbalances in the brain or war-related trauma, we must share the blame when those patients run amok.
I just recently finished reading an extremely depressing book by a writer I admire, Joshua Ferris. His novel “The Unnamed” explores uncharted territory as the protagonist, a respected attorney, happily married, successful, finds his grip on his sanity slipping when an undiagnosable illness derails his life. While he battles unsuccessfully to hold onto his comfortable life, his beautiful wife, his self-respect, he is forced to experience the shadow-life of those solitary souls who sleep on the ground, eat whatever they can find, and suffer the disdain of passersby. In spite of all the efforts of doctors and his loving family, the illness which has no name robs him of everything but his intelligence. And this makes it even more horrible. Like a drowning man being swept out to sea, he can see the shore, the lifeguards, but he is powerless to overcome the enemy within.
Driven to desperation, the protagonist considers killing himself with a gun, but his love for his family remains strong enough to make him pause.
In real life, when desperate people consider desperate acts, sometimes maybe nothing can help. But if we want to consider ourselves a decent nation we need to do a better job of caring for those suffering with mental illnesses. There are times when a human needs a tether to reality. Without an emotional anchor, even the most rational person can go off half-cocked.
We are all in the line of fire.