I find it ironic how every time a major story breaks where lives are lost, the news media tell us a lot about the suspects but little about the victims.
We know more about the two sniper suspects, John Allen Muhammad and John Lee Malvo, than the 13 people the two shot during their three-week killing spree that left ten dead last month.
If you picked up a copy of Time or Newsweek over the past month that investigated the shootings, you’ll find cover stories about the suspects to be anywhere from four to ten pages. The victims, on the other hand, got barely so much as a paragraph with a portrait beside it.
After conducting a search typing in “sniper victims” on CNN’s website a few weeks ago, I found a large list of stories about the shootings but very few “people” stories about the victims and if there were any, I didn’t have time to browse through all of them.
When “20/20” ran an hour-long special segment last month about the shootings before we even knew who was behind the killings, the reporters donated almost a full hour to the events going on in the Maryland and Washington area. A story about the lives the snipers took, however, didn’t run until the last five or ten minutes of the program.
I thought about one of the sniper victims the other day as I washed my car at a self-serve car wash. The woman who was shot was also vacuuming the inside of her car as well.
The 13 sniper victims had no connection to each other. They were all male and female and were a mix of nationalities; white, African American, Indian, Hispanic.
According to the Oct. 21, 2002 issue of Time and the Nov. 4, 2002 of Newsweek, James Martin, 55, a civil war enthusiast and father of an 11-year-old son, was a program analyst at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. His office adopted a local school where Martin judged science fairs and delivered computers. He was the first to be cut down just across the street from a police station the night of Oct. 2.
James “Sonny” Buchanan was mowing the lawn for a friend when a bullet struck him down at age 39. He was a landscaper who loved educating people about plants. During the holidays when people brought him used Christmas trees, Buchanan would offer them gardening lessons and fresh seeds.
Premkumar Walekar, 54, moved to the United States when he was 18. Working as a cab driver, he sent money home to help his family immigrate. On one of his cab windows were two American flags.
Sarah Ramos, 34, studied law in El Salvador, who not only worked as a housekeeper and babysitter but also had time to devote to raising her seven-year-old son.
Lori Lewis Rivera, 25, wrote “professional nanny” on her checks; a vocation she was proud of and had dreamed of becoming since she was a young girl in Idaho.
Pascal Charlot, 72, was known for always having a tape measure in hand who could be counted on to mend a doorjamb. Charlot, a retired handyman and father of five who took care of his wife who had Alzheimer’s, enjoyed sitting on the porch and tending to tomatoes in his vegetable garden.
Dean Harold Meyers, 53, fought for his country in Vietnam, and worked for an architectural engineering company for twenty years. Friends said Meyers was planning to retire in the country where he owned several acres of land.
Ken Bridges, 53, a father of six, received his M.B.A. from the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania. He co-founded an organization devoted to the economic development of African Americans.
At 47, Linda Franklin, wife, mother of two, and an FBI analyst, was not only a cancer survivor. She was also looking forward to moving into her new home with her husband.
Conrad E. Johnson would be the last one-shot Oct. 22 before the capture of Muhammad and Malvo the night of Oct. 23.
Johnson, a married father of two, worked as a bus driver in Maryland for ten years.
These people were no more different than you or I. Most of them were parents. Some moved to America in search of a better life. Most of them were out earning a living when they were struck down by random, senseless violence.
They did exactly what we do and take for granted every day. Mowing the lawn. Filling the car up with gas. Buying groceries. Waiting for the bus. Cleaning the car. Traveling on business. Dining at a restaurant. Buying a home.
It’s a common bond we all share.
©11/27/02
We know more about the two sniper suspects, John Allen Muhammad and John Lee Malvo, than the 13 people the two shot during their three-week killing spree that left ten dead last month.
If you picked up a copy of Time or Newsweek over the past month that investigated the shootings, you’ll find cover stories about the suspects to be anywhere from four to ten pages. The victims, on the other hand, got barely so much as a paragraph with a portrait beside it.
After conducting a search typing in “sniper victims” on CNN’s website a few weeks ago, I found a large list of stories about the shootings but very few “people” stories about the victims and if there were any, I didn’t have time to browse through all of them.
When “20/20” ran an hour-long special segment last month about the shootings before we even knew who was behind the killings, the reporters donated almost a full hour to the events going on in the Maryland and Washington area. A story about the lives the snipers took, however, didn’t run until the last five or ten minutes of the program.
I thought about one of the sniper victims the other day as I washed my car at a self-serve car wash. The woman who was shot was also vacuuming the inside of her car as well.
I realized at that point, while I didn’t know any of the victims personally, I do share a common bond with all of them. It’s not just me; society shares the same bond. Though we may not realize it at the time, we do have a lot in common with the 13 people shot. As much as we did with the ones who perished on Sept. 11, 2001, at the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and the passengers and crews aboard those four planes at the hands of terrorists.The people who perished on 9/11 were doing something we go out and do every day. Many of them were going to work when the catastrophes occurred. Others were traveling; some may have even been visiting the WTC in New York for the first time.
The 13 sniper victims had no connection to each other. They were all male and female and were a mix of nationalities; white, African American, Indian, Hispanic.
According to the Oct. 21, 2002 issue of Time and the Nov. 4, 2002 of Newsweek, James Martin, 55, a civil war enthusiast and father of an 11-year-old son, was a program analyst at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. His office adopted a local school where Martin judged science fairs and delivered computers. He was the first to be cut down just across the street from a police station the night of Oct. 2.
James “Sonny” Buchanan was mowing the lawn for a friend when a bullet struck him down at age 39. He was a landscaper who loved educating people about plants. During the holidays when people brought him used Christmas trees, Buchanan would offer them gardening lessons and fresh seeds.
Premkumar Walekar, 54, moved to the United States when he was 18. Working as a cab driver, he sent money home to help his family immigrate. On one of his cab windows were two American flags.
Sarah Ramos, 34, studied law in El Salvador, who not only worked as a housekeeper and babysitter but also had time to devote to raising her seven-year-old son.
Lori Lewis Rivera, 25, wrote “professional nanny” on her checks; a vocation she was proud of and had dreamed of becoming since she was a young girl in Idaho.
Pascal Charlot, 72, was known for always having a tape measure in hand who could be counted on to mend a doorjamb. Charlot, a retired handyman and father of five who took care of his wife who had Alzheimer’s, enjoyed sitting on the porch and tending to tomatoes in his vegetable garden.
Dean Harold Meyers, 53, fought for his country in Vietnam, and worked for an architectural engineering company for twenty years. Friends said Meyers was planning to retire in the country where he owned several acres of land.
Ken Bridges, 53, a father of six, received his M.B.A. from the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania. He co-founded an organization devoted to the economic development of African Americans.
At 47, Linda Franklin, wife, mother of two, and an FBI analyst, was not only a cancer survivor. She was also looking forward to moving into her new home with her husband.
Conrad E. Johnson would be the last one-shot Oct. 22 before the capture of Muhammad and Malvo the night of Oct. 23.
Johnson, a married father of two, worked as a bus driver in Maryland for ten years.
These people were no more different than you or I. Most of them were parents. Some moved to America in search of a better life. Most of them were out earning a living when they were struck down by random, senseless violence.
They did exactly what we do and take for granted every day. Mowing the lawn. Filling the car up with gas. Buying groceries. Waiting for the bus. Cleaning the car. Traveling on business. Dining at a restaurant. Buying a home.
It’s a common bond we all share.
©11/27/02
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