Court & Change
“God, whose law it is that he who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.”
-- Aeschylus
This morning at 11, there is a second town court hearing, to establish if the District Attorney has enough evidence to hold the man who shot my cousin and his son on felony charges. Four generations (possibly five) of my family will be at the court today, in silent witness to these events. Some had been concerned about justice -- for this is the very same court where, in 1998, the racist hate gang that attempted to kill my nephew got off with less than a slap on the wrist.
A lot can change in 16 years. For example, there is a new DA, who represents a younger generation’s awareness of the relationship between ethnic/racial identity and justice. I’ve known this man for many years, both through work and family friendships. I spoke to him on the telephone yesterday, and arranged for him to meet with our family a half-hour before the court hearing. I believe that my family will be as impressed with him as I am. Relieving concerns about potential systematic injustice is an important step in allowing my family to grieve.
As I was writing this, my younger son called. He reminded me that I, too, have changed. I need not play the role that I did in my nephew’s case. There is already enough anger and outrage, he said, and what the community -- and especially our family -- needs right now is for a calm, reasoned focus on justice. Not revenge, although numerous people wish that were possible. But the type of justice that allows healing. Drop by drop.
I’ll be picking up my youngest daughter from high school for the meeting and court hearing. She and I now live alone in our big house, where there was once the six of us, and usually at least one foreign exchange student or other friend of my children. She’s assisted me in planning out my strategy for contact with the police, the DA, and the media. She’s also been with me when we have visited my cousin’s daughter, and his parents.
My aunt and uncle are in their mid-80s, and have endured so many tragedies in their lives. It is difficult to see these good people in such awful pain. At one point, my uncle lightened the situation by asking my daughter, “Have I ever told you how I met your great aunt?” He went into a hilarious story about the mutual attraction that remains strong more than sixty years later.
Those family members that are my age or older talk about how violence has caused tragedies in our extended family over the generations. Old wounds resurface. Some types of pain never really go away. I feel honored, in what may sound strange, to be able to model the best ways to deal with these situations. I have a lot of hope -- and pride -- in the younger generation of this family. It hurts to have had one that I was so close to taken away at such a young age.
Peace,
H2O Man
= new reply since forum marked as read
let us know if there's anything we can do and know I will be thinking of you. Thanks for keeping us posted. 
(in spirit) 
... haven't been logged in too much in that last couple days and thought about you during that time. I send hugs to you and your family.
I hope for the best outcome for you and your family
