It tears at the heart and chokes off the breath, and darkens the light of the sun. Mothers wail out the names of children they will never hold again. Fathers sob uncontrollably, with the wrenching, clumsy, unpracticed grief of men. Only slowly does the truth sink in. In the killer's home, too, there is grief, but it is mixed with shame, and also dread.
Eyes burn with tears and sleeplessness.
Nothing will ever be the same again. In the public square, though, grief becomes a carnival. There, you'll find a parade of lobbyists and lawyers, activists and advocates, noising off and feeding on the dead. Geraldo is there, and Larry, and Brian, and miscellanies of ambitious young officials and well-scripted Congressmen, framed by endless long shots of balloons and flowers. America's Youth In Crisis.