The national headlines about Las Vegas often amuse, bemuse, or outrage us. The stories, right or wrong, are typically about our quirks, our problems, our particular brand of crazy. They sometimes strike us as presumptuous, or pretentious, or, well, just totally super-annoying. But, on a deeper level, we’re also flattered that we’re worth the attention, that we’re part of the conversation.
But please. Anything but this headline. Anything but this story that so many of us woke up to the morning after — rattled into an ugly new dawn by texts from family and friends asking if we were safe. Or, worse, a missed message from a loved one with unimaginable news.
A month later, the facts branded on our minds by media churn, we can recite details by heart; the numbers themselves — 58, 32, 500, 23 — still vibrate like glyphs in some dark numerology. We keep giving money, blood, thoughts and prayers. But it doesn’t stop us from wishing with heart-seizing intensity for a thing not to be. It doesn’t explain the unknowable desolation of soul that could move a man to inflict mass death with such thorough calculation.
In our feature on p. 57, we profile the people — from concertgoers to first responders to faith leaders — who acted with courage and compassion amid this tragedy. We start to consider the broader psychic ripples and political implications of October 1. No collection of words and pictures can properly consider a magnitude while we still live in its shadow. Our intent is to consider the wound without adding to the clamor, without indulging in the pornography of lurid detail.
The shockwaves of October 1 are still moving through us; the shadow will loom for a long time to come. What can we do? Continue to share stories that illuminate, unify, and heal.