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In Support of Corporate Responsibility; Kudos to Dick’s Sporting Goods December 19, 2012

Posted by makingyourdashcount in Uncategorized.
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Although gun advocates on FaceBook do not like Dick’s Sporting Good’s decision to pull “sporting” rifles like the Bushmaster .223 (shown above)used at Sandy Hook and high capacity magazines from their stores and all guns from their stores in Connecticut, at least temporarily, I find it refreshing that a company has taken corporate responsibility to heart. The Gale Directory publishes Dick’s mission:

To be the #1 sports and fitness specialty retailer for all athletes and outdoor enthusiasts through the relentless improvement of everything we do.

I expect that a report  that the perpetrator of the Sandy Hook shootings tried to purchase firearms  at the Danbury, CT store sent a shock through the corporation. If that sale had been complete, it would have been their merchandise that killed 26 people. It would not have helped fulfill the mission of the company, only those of its stockholders. I admire any corporation that gives up sales because they consider it “the right thing to do.”

So many comments by these Face Book gun advocates refer to constitutional rights and Dick’s preventing them from purchasing a firearm to protect families. It seems to me that all Dick’s wants to do is promote sports and fitness and does not want human blood staining it’s hands or reputation. Target shooting; even hunting does not require semi-automatic rifles that look like they came from a war zone.

What it comes down to: If you want to purchase a gun to use against humans, don’t go to Dick’s. The above image is the model that law enforcement expects was used.  Tell me “how” this belongs in anyone’s neighborhood!

So if you feel that these should be sold at your neighborhood sporting goods store, go ahead boycott Dick’s. Me?

I “need” to buy some new workout clothes for a class that I’m starting.  I think I’ll head over to my local Dick’s and give them some business.

PTSD and Heavy Hearts December 16, 2012

Posted by makingyourdashcount in mourning, parenting, Thoughts.
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I’m not sure if it’s PTSD, but I can’t watch a crime drama because it takes me right back to the fingerprint dust that encrusted my brother’s car.  When I went with the detective to pick his car up from the impound lot, it never occurred to me that this all too real connection to the crime scene that marked my brother’s death would even be there.

Detective shows of the 90’s always showed the carefulness of fingerprint screening.  Dusting a bit on, dusting a bit off. Meticulous.  That was not my brother’s car.  His was covered in it.  Fine and black every time one touched the car, inside or out,  it’s evidence remained on black hands and fingertips. I had no idea.

My first stop after the impound lot was a car wash.  I remember imagining it as a rape victim showering after an attack.  Although this was not a physical assault on me, it was an assault on all that defined my comfortable suburban middle class life.  This evidence of the fact that my brother died as part of a crime sent shudders through me, even thinking about it today, 11 years later. But I can avoid crime dramas.

I have a harder time avoiding ambulances, whose sirens take me to 2004 when my daughter’s ambulance blazed its sirens for miles to our local Children’s Hospital.  Perhaps the sirens would comfort me today, if Sarah had survived.  She didn’t.  Even now there are times when a passing ambulance leaves me still on the side of the road, while I catch my breath. But ambulances are luckily long and far between.  I can live my life.

The children, parents, teachers and staff of Sandy Hook Elementary School will not have that luxury.  They have no choice but to again sit in a classroom or send their children on a bus. The love and and guidance that will need to accompany each step is beyond imagination. Elementary schools are places of wonder, not of violence.  In efforts to protect our children, how will the parents whose children were spared  fit this back together? It isn’t a matter of “suck it up and get on the bus.” Of course my heart is heavy for those who grieve.  But my heart also cries for those who survived.