Bruce M. Thomson
Gold Member
Today I observed at least 25 news people and 5 or 6 news satellite trucks across the street from the towns only funeral home which is located on Main Street just north of the famous flagpole that Im sure that you have all seen by now.
They were taking videos of the mourners as they came and went to pay respects to 6 year old Jack Pinto. The line was long and people were standing outside in the cold December rain.
There was also a videographer inside the local deli that was near the funeral home. He was sticking the large shoulder mounted camera in everyones face as they walked in for lunch. Other reporters were outside of the deli trying to interview anyone who would stop and talk. These news people are truly bottom feeders. They are scum.
This may help you feel just a bit better:
Jennifer Quinn
Staff Reporter
Dear Newtown:
I must confess that I’m glad to be leaving you — though you’re probably even happier to see me, and other people like me, go. As the week goes on and Christmas gets closer, there will likely be fewer members of my profession driving around your town, down Main St., and through Sandy Hook.
You’ve been incredibly kind. And I would guess that not every one of us has deserved that. But I want you to know that I am very grateful for the patience you displayed when answering my questions, and will always admire the grace with which you handled the terrible events that took place in your pretty town.
I arrived here on Friday night — hours after a troubled man who carried a scary rifle burst into the elementary school and killed 26 of your neighbours, 20 of them children — and went straight to the Catholic church.
Hundreds of you were huddled on the lawn. Originally, I thought the service was over, and people were just waiting for friends or whatever, and were going to head home. Wrong. People were staying. And talking. To each other, to members of the clergy — and to reporters. Tons of reporters. We represented media outlets from around the world. Norway. Spain. Korea, too, I later found out. Canadians, obviously. And from all over the U.S.
And you talked to us. To me. About how you felt about your kids, and how you worried for your friends, and how you hoped your town would eventually be OK. No one was angry at the assailant, not at that point. People were just terribly sad. And even as you cried, and hugged, and sang, only one out of the many people I approached said he’d rather not talk — and he said that with a polite, sad smile. And then he said to me, “But thanks for asking.”
I think you wanted to tell your stories, and those of your community, and I believe you did that beautifully.
I’ve never lived in the United States, but I’ve spent a lot of time here. For a couple of years I travelled here almost weekly — I was covering professional sports for the Star — and then, when I moved overseas, I worked for an American news organization, with many American colleagues.
I love the U.S., and I love Americans, and I always felt like I knew and understood this place. But here, in Newtown, I was reminded of the differences between our two countries.
It’s not just your gun laws, though those are one obvious difference. Put it this way: If I had gone to Newmarket, Ont. — or New Westminster, B.C., or pretty much any other Canadian community — I think things would have been different.
This isn’t to say that Canadians aren’t just as thoughtful, or as welcoming. But I think we’re more reticent when it comes to talking to the press — and nowhere is that difference more obvious than when it comes to public officials.
Just look at the remarkable news briefing held by Dr. H. Wayne Carver, your state’s chief medical examiner, on Saturday afternoon. True, there is no prosecution in this case so he doesn’t have to be careful about what he says, but I don’t think there’s any way any Canadian official would get up and speak as frankly as he did.
He said how many times the victims he saw had been shot. He described what the bullets did to their flesh. He gave the kind of detail that sometimes we don’t even hear spoken in courtrooms. I was astonished.
And then, I have to confess, I was also taken aback Sunday afternoon when I heard a smart, pretty 21-year-old girl — who was setting up to take donations for the families in your town — make the “guns don’t kill people, people kill people” argument.
I’m not naive, but I was surprised when she and her two friends all said, sure, they know people with guns. I don’t think I know anyone with a gun (cops notwithstanding). Look around, one of them said to me, waving her arm. Newtown is surrounded by woods. People hunt. Of course they have guns.
Zoe told me her boyfriend’s mom and her best friend’s mom were in Sandy Hook Elementary when the shooting took place. So I thought she might now think that people don’t need weapons.
“Some people are saying this is about gun control,” she said. “I don’t believe that. This is about one sick person.
“I don’t forgive him,” she said. “I really don’t, at all.”
That was about the only anger I heard during the days I spent in your town. Mostly, people talked about love.
I haven’t cried yet. I’ve been close, but when you’re working, you just kind of keep on going. I’ve tried not to look too closely at the pictures of the little girls — they remind me too much of people who are important to me. And I grew up surrounded by amazing women who are teachers.
So I am glad to be leaving you. Because I get to go home and see those people. I’ll get to hug them on Christmas Eve, and I’ll get to laugh with my girlfriends, and sit at a favourite bar, and leave some of what I heard and saw in Newtown behind.
I won’t forget you, though. And when I stop and remember, that’s probably when I’ll cry.
Sincerely,
Jennifer