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Healthy Horizons

Laurie Lupold

Visions

Silence drifted across America this day. Many hundreds gathered behind a window to watch what might have been one of the most important events in my time. Some called it justice, others called it sad. I call it an opportunity to look within ourselves as a nation and see what we all can do so that tragedies like this never happen again.

I far from admired this man, Tim McVeigh. He was arrogant, manipulative and heartless in many ways. Though a part of me agreed that the way things were handled in the Waco Texas crisis was slaughter to say the least, I did not applaud McVeigh's attempt at retaliation. He saw himself as a one-man jury casting punishment over hundreds.

Like many others, I watched the news coverage of this final event unfolding. I listened as one man pleaded that it was the divorce of McVeigh's parents that made him go to such lengths; yet, in the same program, I heard what a bright, happy child he had been. But somewhere things changed.

Whatever reason we might find for such severe actions, Timothy McVeigh succeeded in one thing that I feel was very important to him. He would NEVER be forgotten. My emotions have shifted from many forms and altitudes since the day of the bombing. Things became quiet and I suppose my mind grew quiet with it, for moments forgetting those people who lost their lives as well as the loved ones who miss them. Only when the news focused on McVeigh was I reminded of all those lost.

But the news always seemed to focus more on McVeigh, didn't it? What does that say about our society? We seem to set our minds more on the criminal then we do the victim. Even as the moments ticked before his death, McVeigh gave no indication of remorse for what he'd done. His only response was a poem he had transcribed from another author, which he felt reflected his own beliefs. He never admitted regret for those lost.

I suppose I should feel hate or at least anger for a man with such an uncaring character, but that isn't within me. All I feel is sorrow. Sorrow that he never really saw the beauty in life as it comes if you look past the wrong in it. The peace that comes from holding on to a God who will carry you over the rocky roads and hold you when tears stream down your face. But, then, one must wonder: do people like McVeigh ever cry? Here's to a tomorrow where the Tim McVeighs of the world have grown silent. Where death comes as a natural aspect of life and not a forced affliction by someone else's hand. Where children are safe in their schools, playgrounds and homes. Here's to a tomorrow of pleasant horizons.

Still, let us not blind ourselves to Tim McVeigh's way of thinking. The poem which he used so defiantly was anything but an arrogant description of one's triumph. Invictus is a poem about maintaining your own spirit and identity. It is about the courageous survival of one man, William Ernest Henley. William Ernest Henley didn't write with rage. He wrote with spirit. So let us not let Timothy McVeigh take that from him. In our lives we all come to a point where Invictus could be nurturing to our souls. We may become lost and these words will fill us with self-determination and persistence. Weep, but hear the true song, the song of a brighter tomorrow.

Invictus Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul. William Ernest Henley (1849-1903)