TV GUIDE:
MSNBC 10:00 PM Tonight: “Disappearance at the Dairy Queen”
CATEGORY: Special, Documentary, Crime
SYNOPSIS: Cindy Zarzycki goes missing while walking to a local Dairy Queen to get a ride to a surprise birthday party for her boyfriend Scott.
STARRING: No one.
I'm sickened by it. How do I explain?
This is not a formal apology, nor is it an angry diatribe. I have no platform, no soapbox, from where to preach. I’m not sure the general public would understand my actions, my position, as much as my thought-out but never-acted-upon reaction.
I believe in saying “Please” and “Thank You,” and opening doors for others. It’s the right thing to do. It’s civilized. I’m sure you would agree.
“Let me get that for you.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
That’s how our conversation went. He held the door open. I said, “Thanks.” An exchange of pleasantries.
So why did this small act of kindness become a festering wound? Why did I regret what I had said?
He entered the administration building from the back, while I exited. His destination: The courthouse for sentencing in the brutal rape and murder of a thirteen-year-old girl. My destination: The prison school building beyond the chow hall.
During our passing I didn’t know his identity, although I will admit he looked familiar. Then, after our kind words to one another, it dawned on me: I’d seen his mug shot in the Detroit Free Press.
I wanted to ask him: What you did—was it instinctual like opening a door? Or did you think about it? Did you plan it? But how would he answer? Would he say, “I don’t know,” or would he say, “You’re welcome”?
I wouldn't get my answer until a year later, when I settled in for the night, after eating my dinner, walking the dog, then returning to see what was on television, to see what might interest me. My thoughts came rushing back; I'll never forget the exchange of kindness. I wish it would have never happened. I wish that girl would have never disappeared. I wish they could have rewritten the ending. But then again, it's a documentary involving a killer, a killer that I had met, a killer I had "thanked" for holding a door open as I walked past, as he waited to meet his fate.
9 comments:
I don't think he would care to answer that question anymore...
Somethings like justice take so long that that the case is almost redundant by then...
In India, a rape case would be taken up by the court after seven to fourteen years of the commitment of the crime. In such a situation, It is always like 'justice delayed is justice denied'...the witnesses turn hostile, the victim may have been married by then and might not want to pursue to the case anymore for the sake of ' family honor' or ( last but not the least) the rapist might have repented enough and might have become a 'changed man'.
So why did this small act of kindness become a festering wound? Why did I regret what I had said?
That is because of what is called 'duality of mind' . You judge the person's act of 'now' in relation to an act of the past.
Humans are more complex than just simple 'good' or 'bad' . These are such loaded values to judge people by. People only act, either wisely or foolishly. And no one is so foolish that the wisest cannot learn from him. On the contrary, there is no fool like a wise fool...
JR-the show sounds interesting. I love those true crime mysteries. I think kindness is always without regret, because it is the right thing for US to do.
I think I'd take a long hot shower after such an encounter. Or maybe I'd just go to bed and try to sleep for a week.
well done jim...
and grats for your c.o.n. win... even if i'm a tad late!
Perhaps his politeness was only the mask he showed the world?
Perhaps you regret because you did not see beyond the mask of polite anonymity?
And JR, what would you have done/said if you had recognized him? Perhaps that mask of politeness helps us all walk in the world a little easier.
They punked him for the information on where he buried her and slitting his throat would have been kind. In Michigan's prisons that may still occur. Enjoyed the read. MW
Glad i missed it...just get pissed off all over again. At least it finally told them where he put her.
I would feel like you did. I mean, it's not like you did anything wrong. You didn't know him. But when you realized who he was, that must have been an unsettling feeling.
It also makes me think. I wonder how many people we walk by in the course of our lives who are rapists or murderers? I wonder how many times this exchange of pleasantries has happened when we never knew it?
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