Folks, this one is going to be a bit more personal. While I was born in California, I grew up in Las Vegas. From childhood I grew up in that concrete jungle with the mountains in the distance, the heat beating down on me like fiery fists and the glow of the casinos and hotels flashing in the distance. Honestly, I never liked Vegas much. I was never one for cities, even though I grew up in it. But it was none the less my home.
I walked into work yesterday morning at the crack of dawn in a decent mood, until someone eerily asked for a moment of silence in honor of Vegas. A feeling of dread crept over me. While I no longer live there, I moved North almost exactly a year ago, I still have many friends and my family there. Then I learned of the carnage that had taken place not even twelve hours before. Perhaps my emotional distance dampened the blow, but pretty quickly I was edgy. While I sincerely doubted anyone I knew was at that concert, my mind conjured ideas of someone I cared about somehow being there at that time and suffering. Thankfully I didn't put my fist through anyone or anything, and upon arriving home I received relief in the form of calling my mom and learning that everyone we knew was completely fine.
Even so, I had intense rage pulsing through my veins. Someone evil had murdered people in my home town. Dozens. Fifty eight dead, over five hundred wounded. The urge to paint myself and take scalps was like a living thing inside me, crawling to get out, to avenge the dead. To protect those I cared about. Folks, I do my best to be a nice person, even to those who I don't like. But when my family is in danger, my veneer of civility is burned away like paper in a gust of flame and I am ready to do things that are not so civilized.
But right now that doesn't stick out to me. What stays with me at the moment is what my mom told me over the phone. Us Southern Nevadans are an odd bunch. We have cowboys, gamblers, weirdos, church goers, and a mess of people who are downright odd. Myself included. I expected to hear of rage, retaliatory violence, terror, greed, and a bunch of other poor behavior.
But I was utterly blown away by what they actually did.
Instead, in less than 24 hours the folks there raised over a million dollars to help the victims and their families. Blood donors lined up at every plasma donation center in the entire sodding city, backed up around the blocks. People waited in line for up to six hours, ready to donate precious plasma to those in surgery. And some others noticed how long and determined these people were, standing for hours, and brought them snacks.
I am utterly stunned by how the community has come together down there. The positivity and love being shown to one another in a place I regarded as being slightly more civilized than Thunder Dome has shown its true colors: And they are infinitely more pleasant than I ever imagined.
I am a firm believer that people show their true selves when things get bad. When the pressure is on, you see how good or bad people really are. And apparently the citizens of Vegas showed just how many good people there are. In the sharpest contrast to an act of absolute savagery and evil we have countless acts of selflessness and caring. I feel like Batman at the end of The Dark Knight when the two ferries spare each other.
I don't know why this man, no, not man, creature, did what he did. And I don't care. What I do care about is that so many people have pulled together and overcome. The next few weeks will doubtless be filled with pain, grief, and political savagery, but for now I will enjoy the love that has been shown by the citizens of my home town.
People of Las Vegas, I am proud of you.
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