IT'S BEEN TOO HARD LIVIN'
Today’s e-mail contained a reply to piece I wrote several years ago and reposted a few months back. The piece told the sad story of Rodney McAllister, a young boy who died in the worst way imaginable, alone in the dark of night on a playground in St. Louis. No other piece that I have written, except maybe for the one on Paul and Gage Wayment, has struck so deep a chord within me.
At the core of both stories is a fatal moment of indifference, that moment where a stranger passing through could maybe have made the difference between life and death had they but stopped for a moment and decided to do something instead of ignoring what was plainly a time and a place gone wrong.
In my reply I said I would keep Rodney in my prayers. But sometimes it takes more than that. Sometimes you have to put yourself out there, in the flow, with all the risks that entails . . . knowing that you may never know if you really made a difference. You have to do that and not get lost finding your own way back from Edge City.
It isn't easy. I guess it says something about our society that the people we pay to do that — the teachers, the case workers, the cops — receive salaries that are dwarfed by football coaches and reality show "stars." Awful. Really, there's just no excuse.
Good night and good luck. We're going to need it.
January 7, 2010
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