Skip to main content

News

My city's had a bad year. First the guy who allegedly stole money from the bank where he worked bludgeoned to death his wife and kids and then killed himself in a high-speed crash on the Interstate. Then the floods hit and wrecked people's lives and work. Then the story broke that two members of the Iowa football team allegedly raped a woman in a dorm and the school allegedly covered it up. (Don't you just love the word "allegedly"? Keeps the cops and lawyers and reporters in business.)

And now, a college professor who has been accused of bribing his students -- let's play show and tell (and perhaps fondle) with your boobs for better grades -- is missing. So's his high-powered rifle. My son's preschool was in lockdown all afternoon yesterday because the professor's son goes there and no one was sure what Dad might do.

Henry's class was moved to an interior room with no windows. The kids weren't allowed outside for recess. Cops roamed the halls, from what I've heard. It's all alleged, because no one told the parents until we came to pick up the kids. I'll save my outrage for another time, though, because at the moment, all I keep thinking about is that poor little boy and how, if what the cops are speculating is true, his daddy has ended his own life in a city park where we often go hiking and exploring. Cops are searching now with cadaver dogs.

No matter what the guy did or said to his students, no matter what kind of mess he got himself into (or didn't, since no one's been convicted of anything), his family members are the ones suffering the most. I recall seeing this man with his boy all over town, at the library for storytime, picking him up from school, enjoying activities at local festivals. From all accounts, this boy thought his daddy hung the moon.

Now, it seems, there's nothing but darkness.

Comments

AnneR said…
Amy, I hadn't known anything about his family (as all I know is what I read online in the papers). Makes a sad story even sadder. Here's hoping that if he is indeed gone, his son (and others) hold on to the good memories and let the others go. Today is my dad's birthday and I'm so glad to report that what I remember and think about today is the good stuff, not his own sad ending. All loss is unique, but I hope someday Miller's family can also be smiling.
Amy said…
It's so good to hear you say that the positives are what you recall and cherish now.

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

So, I Changed My Mind

More than four years ago, the blog and I parted ways. I needed a change. A whole lot happened in my world since then. I switched jobs a couple times. My kid went from an elementary school tween to a teenage high schooler. We built a new house and moved. Both my parents and my sister have passed. The world around me changed as well. Mass shootings, racism, the #metoo movement, a misogynistic bigoted narcissist in the White House ... go ahead, add to the list. Toss your woes into this dumpster fire we call 2019.  I appreciate my previous sentiment, that I was no longer wandering. But let's be honest, we're all trying to find our way through this mess. I decided to reboot the blog to give myself a creative outlet, a way to sort through the confusion and frustration and attempt to make sense of it all. I have a voice, and I'm not keen to silence it anymore. Guess what? I'm back, bitches.

In memoriam...

I remember the first time I heard the name "Les Anderson." A bunch of Wichita State University communication majors were sitting around on campus, talking about classes they planned to take. Several people warned me: watch out for Les Anderson. He was tough. He had a murderous grading scale. It was nearly impossible to get an A. They weren't kidding. But he wasn't tough just to be a tyrant. From his teaching sprang a fleet of incredible, successful journalists, writers, editors, broadcasters, public relations experts, advertisers, non-profit professionals...I could go on and on. Most importantly, he created a legion of people who wanted to make a difference in the world. The greatest gift Les gave to them all? He believed in them, cared about them for their own personal stories as well as the stories they told for class assignments or in the pages of his hometown newspaper. Les was my teacher. My boss. My mentor. My conscience. My champion. My friend. When I started c...