Its early in the morning and its hard to sleep. The last week as been a bit of a nightmare. Burying your husband is not easy, but burrying the father of your 3 month old child is even harder. No more family to give you hugs, no one to hand you a tissue to wipe your tears when they won't stop flowing. Just you and your son and the endless night. A noise not far from your house can be heard, but you have neighbors and they could be out, or maybe its that stray dog that comes looking for food in the
garbage cans. You go back to watching your tiny infant sleep. He looks like his dad you think..
Again a sound comes to your ears. But this time you sit straight up in bed and tune your ears to the night sounds. Its the back door. Someone rattled the back door. You are still as the intruder tries each window. Looking down at the tiny body that is just now stirring you rush into action. The shot gun is in the closet, the pistol in the dresser drawer. You grab both and rush into the living room. From somewhere you have the forethought to push the couch in front of the door. The baby starts to wimper and you grab the bottle sitting next to him and carefully put it into his mouth, propping it up so that it won't slip out.
Next you grab the phone and dial the familiar numbers that are pounded into your head from the time you can walk, 911. The roar in your ears makes it hard to hear the operator when she answers.
Your explaination and plea come out rather calm even to your own ears. The operator dispatches a police unit and tells you to hide somewhere safe. I have a pistol and a shot gun, and ask without much thought if I can shoot him if he comes through my door. Her words tell me I can. But a tiny voice in my head asks can you if they do? The operators next words give me the courage that I need.
"You do what you need to do to protect your baby."
The door breaks open and the intruder shoves the couch I have used to barricade the door. I point the shotgun at the intruder. Something flashes in his hand..he has a gun. I don't remember the trigger under my finger only that I pulled back on the curved metal. The gun fires loud...making my ears ring. I don't feel the kick until much later when I discover a sore spot on my body. The man lays mostly in the house the door held open with only his foot. He isnt moving. He's bleeding, but isn't moving. A knife is still clutched in his hand. Is he dead? Did I just kill a person in my home?
You would think this was an opening scene in a movie, or a book by David Patterson. But it happened and it happened to a young 18 year-old mother. When I read this story my heart hurt for this young woman. What in the name of all that is holy could possess a human being to break into a persons house with the intent to steal after this long illness and death of her husband. Good grief. The answer was drug. That altered reality that has been a huge part of abuse, (all all kinds), theft, and death (in all forms) But what was his thoughts, why, when, where all of these answers died with him when a well armed citizen, young and scared, doing what comes naturally to her when her young are threatened, killed him.
My second thought was oh crap. They are going to charge her with murder. She is going to go to jail for homicide or at the very least man-slaughter. That is what our justice system has come down too. But to my surprise they didn't do anything to her. Instead they charged the man that was with him with murder.
So what would you do? If you were in her position would you be the person hiding in a closet hoping that they don't find you and your tiny son? Or, are you the person who pulls out the shotgun and is prepared to kill the person kicking in your door. We do not know the intention of the intruder, but he had a 12 inch hunting knife in his hand when he died. The only thing that man was hunting for was drugs and you don't need a knife to kick in a door. I would be safe to say that the man was going to use that knife to threaten, hurt, or kill that young mother and her baby.
How different this story could have been if she had not had the courage to protect herself and child. The headlines would have read mother and son found stabbed to death in their home. No suspects at this time. The story would have gone on to tell about the young husband who had died of lung cancer and of the young mother who took care of him and her infant son. Their financial struggles and might even end with the time and date of their memorial service. Just another statistic. We would shake our heads and turn to the sports page.
Instead we get to cheer. Instead the reality of this world is that she saved herself and her baby and one bad guy is in jail and the other is dead. We cheer. We say justified.
Now the consequences. The nightmares of that night will live with her forever. No matter how many time she will be told that she is justified, the taking of another life is hard to live with. Ask any soldier who has seen war will tell you that. The fear of every noise outside of her house will have her jumping at her own shadow. Letting her baby outside of her sight will cause anxiety. In the end she will probably suffer with Post Tramatic Stree Disorder. She will need to get help and that won't be cheap.
What do you say? How does anyone justify the ripple effect of this kind of harm. All because one persons reality clashed with someone elses reality.
Justified? Yes. Fair? No.
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