Fireworks

On Monday night, I went to downtown Grand Rapids to watch the city's annual Fourth of July fireworks (which I had never been to before).

We sat on the rocks along the bank of the Grand River, watching light and sound explode overhead in the night sky.

It was a great show and lasted for quite awhile, and then we walked back through town to where we had parked probably about a mile away.

On Tuesday, I heard something that made my heart stop for a second:

Two people got shot following the fireworks.

According to the news reports, the shooting took place at about the time we got to our vehicle and started driving home.

Needless to say, the fact that we didn't hear gunshots likely because we were already headed home does not at all change the fact that someone's male intuition, or whatever it was, led to his spontaneous decision to take the longer way back to the parked car . . . bypassing Rosa Parks Circle, where the shooting occurred, and where we had walked earlier that evening on our way to the show.

I never said life isn't crazy.

Normally I don't call it scary, either.

Maybe that's because it's easy to take safety and protection for granted . . .

No comments :

Post a Comment