Death...tolls taken and tolls paid
So...life has been pretty bad for me recently...I think a few of you know that...but, just in case, here is a quick summary.
On Monday May 21 I just got home from a camping trip and came into work to find that a major atrocity had occurred. The gunshots were still ringing in many Moscow, Idaho residents’ ears and my heart pounded with the news.
The instigator of the tragedy was an ex-employee of mine from when I was a manager at American Building Maintenance (ABM), Jason Hamilton. I knew that he had always been a bit off...and more than a little unbalanced...but I never imagined that he would actually kill his wife, a police officer, and a church caretaker.
To make the matters worse, the cop he killed was a friend of mine. I used to chat with Lee Newbill when he was a night guard for the University of Idaho. He regularly threw me out of buildings as he made his rounds and locked them tight for the night. Many a night passed with me walking beside him and talking about the events of the day…or what was coming down the proverbial social pipeline and coming to Moscow.
Needless to say, when I heard that Jason had killed Lee and then shot himself, I was filled with whirling and conflicting emotions. I felt the urge to rush to Moscow to set Lee’s death right…but the man I wanted to punish for it had already done that. I felt impotent and alone…more so than I usually do.
I filled the following days by visiting various news sites as I tried to piece all of the details together. I laughed mirthlessly at the fact that almost every news site plagiarized each other in their coverage of the story. I say almost because I found one that didn’t, http://www.newwest.net/index.php/main/article/shooting_wreaks_devastation_in_moscow_idaho. This one became my life blood over the two days that followed while all of the information was released to the public.
But life moves on…and although I felt hollow and somewhat disoriented, I made due. Then Thursday hit. I remember sitting at work and staring at my computer screen as I wondered what I should do during my shift when my cell phone rang. My friend’s voice soon filled my ear and even in my shock-filled-hazy-mind I registered the profound sadness in the way he said hello. I rocked forward in my chair slightly as his next words tumbled from the phone and into my mind. “My grandma died today.”
I remember blinking hard and responding somewhat distantly. Something about how she died and if he was ok. And he responded by saying that he was ok and that she had died of some known condition that they had been expecting…but not at the same time. He went on to tell me how animated she had been and that, even though they knew she was ailing, his whole family had been somewhat taken by surprise about the whole thing. Our conversation drifted to what was going to happen to him and his family and after a far too brief discussion I asked if he needed me to go out there when I got off work. He politely declined and we hung up.
I don’t recall what I did when I left work…but I know that I wound up in Mtn. Home before the night was over. My brother and I went to the Stock Yard, one of the many bars in Mtn. Home, and soon were up to our livers in beer. The next day passed somewhat hectically…I drove home and then went to Emmett to meet with my friend’s mom, and editor, in order to go over my book. I had no illusions of her actually wanting to discuss it, but I brought my things with me…just in case. Once our far too brief discussion about the book, and her life, was finished, I flew to Boise to catch a Hockey game. From there I went back to Mtn. Home and to the bar with my brother. It wasn’t until that night that I learned of Jack Hamilton’s death.
Now, just for clarification, Jack was not related to Jason in any way shape or form. Instead Jack was the husband of one of my mom’s old friends, Darleen. My brother had let it slip while we were at the bar on Saturday Night. Since he had no idea how it had happened…I decided to talk to my mom the next day. It seems that he died of a heart attack on Thursday, about the same time that my friend’s grandma died. This was almost too much for me. I felt my world close in a little more as I stared at the walls a bit. I shook it off and prepared for an even more hectic day.
Saturday I met with some friends and saw the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie…then I went to a barbeque and chatted with more friends…I did my best to focus on what needed to get done…and to relax. I managed to do most of that, but not all. My mind was still reeling and nothing seemed quite solid.
Saturday night I went back to Mtn. Home and met up with my brother and watched movies…and Sunday I spent around my family as we tried to get a grip on everything that had happened. Everything seemed too normalish and I slept poorly, plagued by the normal nightmares dealing with my time in the service that come every Memorial Day intermingled with those of loved ones dying.
Monday came around and I had a date to go to, so I got up early and started to get ready. I had barely woken up and opened a soda when I heard my phone ring. It was my mom. Her voice was calm and slightly soothing…in fact it was a little too calm. She said that my Uncle Arlin had died that morning. I blinked and asked her how. She said that he died of a stroke. She then asked me to tell my brother, whose house I was at, and I agreed and hung up the phone. Shortly after that I put on my motorcycle gear and drove home.
My date went better than I had hoped and left me wondering exactly where I stood with the gorgeous lady (yes she knows who she is…and since she may be reading this I will leave it at that). From there I went to a friend’s house to pay her for some SCA garb that she had made me. After that I went to Veteran’s Memorial Park to get some sword fighting in. From there I made my way to scribe’s night and then on to home.
The problem is that nothing really seemed real after I had heard of my uncle’s passing. I mean, I know it all happened…but I was mostly numb. It was as if I had been dreaming the whole time and that when I awoke on Tuesday morning and went to work most of it faded as a dream does as soon as you awake.
So…for those of you that lost touch with me for a bit…that is why...for those of you that had no idea what happened…now you do.
On Monday May 21 I just got home from a camping trip and came into work to find that a major atrocity had occurred. The gunshots were still ringing in many Moscow, Idaho residents’ ears and my heart pounded with the news.
The instigator of the tragedy was an ex-employee of mine from when I was a manager at American Building Maintenance (ABM), Jason Hamilton. I knew that he had always been a bit off...and more than a little unbalanced...but I never imagined that he would actually kill his wife, a police officer, and a church caretaker.
To make the matters worse, the cop he killed was a friend of mine. I used to chat with Lee Newbill when he was a night guard for the University of Idaho. He regularly threw me out of buildings as he made his rounds and locked them tight for the night. Many a night passed with me walking beside him and talking about the events of the day…or what was coming down the proverbial social pipeline and coming to Moscow.
Needless to say, when I heard that Jason had killed Lee and then shot himself, I was filled with whirling and conflicting emotions. I felt the urge to rush to Moscow to set Lee’s death right…but the man I wanted to punish for it had already done that. I felt impotent and alone…more so than I usually do.
I filled the following days by visiting various news sites as I tried to piece all of the details together. I laughed mirthlessly at the fact that almost every news site plagiarized each other in their coverage of the story. I say almost because I found one that didn’t, http://www.newwest.net/index.php/main/article/shooting_wreaks_devastation_in_moscow_idaho. This one became my life blood over the two days that followed while all of the information was released to the public.
But life moves on…and although I felt hollow and somewhat disoriented, I made due. Then Thursday hit. I remember sitting at work and staring at my computer screen as I wondered what I should do during my shift when my cell phone rang. My friend’s voice soon filled my ear and even in my shock-filled-hazy-mind I registered the profound sadness in the way he said hello. I rocked forward in my chair slightly as his next words tumbled from the phone and into my mind. “My grandma died today.”
I remember blinking hard and responding somewhat distantly. Something about how she died and if he was ok. And he responded by saying that he was ok and that she had died of some known condition that they had been expecting…but not at the same time. He went on to tell me how animated she had been and that, even though they knew she was ailing, his whole family had been somewhat taken by surprise about the whole thing. Our conversation drifted to what was going to happen to him and his family and after a far too brief discussion I asked if he needed me to go out there when I got off work. He politely declined and we hung up.
I don’t recall what I did when I left work…but I know that I wound up in Mtn. Home before the night was over. My brother and I went to the Stock Yard, one of the many bars in Mtn. Home, and soon were up to our livers in beer. The next day passed somewhat hectically…I drove home and then went to Emmett to meet with my friend’s mom, and editor, in order to go over my book. I had no illusions of her actually wanting to discuss it, but I brought my things with me…just in case. Once our far too brief discussion about the book, and her life, was finished, I flew to Boise to catch a Hockey game. From there I went back to Mtn. Home and to the bar with my brother. It wasn’t until that night that I learned of Jack Hamilton’s death.
Now, just for clarification, Jack was not related to Jason in any way shape or form. Instead Jack was the husband of one of my mom’s old friends, Darleen. My brother had let it slip while we were at the bar on Saturday Night. Since he had no idea how it had happened…I decided to talk to my mom the next day. It seems that he died of a heart attack on Thursday, about the same time that my friend’s grandma died. This was almost too much for me. I felt my world close in a little more as I stared at the walls a bit. I shook it off and prepared for an even more hectic day.
Saturday I met with some friends and saw the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie…then I went to a barbeque and chatted with more friends…I did my best to focus on what needed to get done…and to relax. I managed to do most of that, but not all. My mind was still reeling and nothing seemed quite solid.
Saturday night I went back to Mtn. Home and met up with my brother and watched movies…and Sunday I spent around my family as we tried to get a grip on everything that had happened. Everything seemed too normalish and I slept poorly, plagued by the normal nightmares dealing with my time in the service that come every Memorial Day intermingled with those of loved ones dying.
Monday came around and I had a date to go to, so I got up early and started to get ready. I had barely woken up and opened a soda when I heard my phone ring. It was my mom. Her voice was calm and slightly soothing…in fact it was a little too calm. She said that my Uncle Arlin had died that morning. I blinked and asked her how. She said that he died of a stroke. She then asked me to tell my brother, whose house I was at, and I agreed and hung up the phone. Shortly after that I put on my motorcycle gear and drove home.
My date went better than I had hoped and left me wondering exactly where I stood with the gorgeous lady (yes she knows who she is…and since she may be reading this I will leave it at that). From there I went to a friend’s house to pay her for some SCA garb that she had made me. After that I went to Veteran’s Memorial Park to get some sword fighting in. From there I made my way to scribe’s night and then on to home.
The problem is that nothing really seemed real after I had heard of my uncle’s passing. I mean, I know it all happened…but I was mostly numb. It was as if I had been dreaming the whole time and that when I awoke on Tuesday morning and went to work most of it faded as a dream does as soon as you awake.
So…for those of you that lost touch with me for a bit…that is why...for those of you that had no idea what happened…now you do.
Labels: Life...
posted by darkjag at
5:54 PM
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