A Mother’s Love for Son, Gun and Country.
“LOL — I’m not mad. You have to learn not to get caught.”
In a nation born and built on violence, where there are now more guns in homes than there are people, a parent buys the son a gun as a gift. A Sig Sauer 9mm.
But the son is disturbed. Nonetheless, she takes him to the gun range. She wants him to be a good shot. She wants to spend time with him. She loves these mom-and-son days shooting guns.
Then he wakes up one December morning, walks into his mother’s bedroom and blows her head off. He has four of her guns including the Sig Sauer 9mm she gave him as a gift.
That did not happen this past week in Oxford, Michigan (about 19 miles as the crow flies from where I went to high school). It’s what took place on December 14, 2012, when the 20-year-old Adam Lanza took those guns his mother gave him to use when they went to the gun range together in Newtown, Connecticut — and after he killed her, he took them to Sandy Hook Elementary School, where he murdered 20 first-graders and 6 teachers and staff before he killed himself. The only gun he didn’t use in this bloody massacre was the Sig Sauer 9mm.
15-year old Ethan Crumbley of Oxford, MI was given his Sig Sauer as an early Christmas gift on Black Friday, 10 days ago. So exciting — why wait until the Lord’s birthday to open it ! The next day mom took Ethan to the gun range shooting all those happy bullets. Mom Jennifer Crumbley posted on Instagram: “mom and son day testing out his new Christmas present.” It wasn’t Christmas. It was November 27.
Two days later, on Monday, November 29, Mom got a call on her voice mail from the school. She was told that Ethan was looking for ammo to buy on his mobile phone. They asked that she call them about this disturbing incident. She didn’t bother to call them back. Instead, she texted young Ethan with the excitement of a 16-year old girl: “LOL! I’m not mad. [But] You have to learn not to get caught!”
Oooh. They had a secret together! He got away with it from the school authorities! Be more careful next time when you’re looking for ammo to order, Silly you!
The next day, on November 30, Mom Jennifer and Dad James got another call from the school to come here right now. They did. There was a teacher and a school counselor and Ethan sitting there in the high school office. Ethan had his “Christmas present” with him, but no one knew it because it was in his backpack sitting there on the floor beside him (Oxford High has no lockers due to Covid, the other pandemic). The teacher showed the Crumbleys what Ethan had drawn at his desk. A depiction of a dead person, shot twice, bleeding out. “Blood everywhere!” read the caption beside a laughing emoji. Then a drawing of his new gun pointed at these four lines:
"My life is useless.
The world is dead.
The thoughts won’t stop.
The parents were asked to take Ethan home. They refused and left. “Help me” would be his last words before Madisyn, Justin, Tate and Hana’s lives would soon end. Help me. Neither the parents nor the school would, even though he had put his request, his plea, in writing for them. Rather, the Adults amazingly sent Ethan back to his class. Maybe they did so with their thoughts and prayers but more than likely he was just one more nuisance to Mom, Dad and a school that had a hundred other things to do that day. A couple hours later he would use his “Christmas gift” to kill four students and wound seven others, including one teacher.
Some of the students who survived by running outside were there when the media arrived to tell certain truths the school’s PR flack probably would rather they not have shared.
“There’s been talk since last month of something eventually going down here,” said one teenager. Another said school officials were warned about Ethan the week before Thanksgiving.
People noticed something wasn’t right. His parents must’ve too. Was their solution to cheer him up by giving him a gun? Taking him shooting? Ignoring all his distress signals? And then once he’s in jail, they flee town, abandoning their only son, because deciding to run means they may never see him again. “What parent would do that?” Everyone has asked this over the last few days since their capture.
Who would do that? After some minimal research, I can offer you one possible explanation. On November 11, 2016, three days after Trump’s victory in Michigan and elsewhere, Ethan’s mom, Jennifer, wrote a love letter to Donald Trump. Here is the part where the mother helps us understand:
November 11, 2016
Dear President Elect, Mr. Trump:
Feels funny to even be writing your name like that, but you made history on Tuesday. I’m not going to lie. I was scared shitless to circle your name on my ballot. I have been back and forth on whether to vote for you, or not vote at all […]
Mr. Trump, I actually love that you are a bad public speaker because that showed sincerity, and humility. You changed your mind, and you said “so what”. You made the famous “grab them in the pussy” comment, did it offend me? No. I say things all the time that people take the wrong way, do I mean them, not always. Do I agree that you should of shown your tax returns? No. I don’t care what you do or maybe don’t pay in taxes, I think those are personal and if the Gov’t can lock someone up over $10,000 of unpaid taxes and you slipped on by, then that shows the corruption. I like that you have failed. I love it even more that those failures taught lessons and made you one of the most successful Business Men in my history. I’m not scared of your big personality and quick temper. There is a whole house of representatives that still have to approve if you decide to get pissed at China and blow them up.
The Wall. The famous Wall. See Mr. Trump, I support that wall. I am not racist. In fact my grandfather came straight off the boat in Italy. Fought, struggled and had to prove his way to be an American Citizen. He went through the great depression, he then started a successful coil company here in MI where he employed other hard working Americans and paid them a good wage. I want every non-American that wants to live in this great country to have to go through the same process. I don’t even know where we went wrong with that, but if you want to be here, work here, live here damnit, fucking earn it and prove it.
As a female and a Realtor, thank you for allowing my right to bear arms. Allowing me to be protected if I show a home to someone with bad intentions. Thank you for respecting that Amendment […]
We bust our ass Mr. Trump. I pay taxes, my husband pays his child support, I donate to charities. We are good fucking Americans that cannot get ahead. And what makes me sick, is people that come over here from other countries and get free everything.
You see Mr. Trump, I need you to stop common core. My son struggles daily, and his teachers tell me they hate teaching it but the HAVE to. Their pay depends on these stupid fucking test scores. I have to pay for a Tutor, why? Because I can’t figure out 4th grade math. I used to be good at math. I can’t afford a Tutor, in fact I sacrifice car insurance to make sure my son gets a good education and hopefully succeeds in life. My parents teach at a school where the kids come from illegal immigrant parents. Most of their parents are locked up. They don’t care about learning and threaten to kill my mom for caring about their grades. Do you realize Mr. Trump that they get free tutors, free tablets from our Government so they can succeed? Why cant my son get those things, do we as hard working Americans not deserve that too?
My husband suffered a stroke and a broken back and we were with just my income. Do you know how hard it is to support a family on only $40,000 a year? I couldn’t qualify for State Aid. I made to much.
Mr. Trump, this is why I voted for you. I see the change that we so desperately need. I see jobs coming back, people having to (work) for their handouts, money going to who really deserve it… Jobs given back to our American workers. I believe YOU are the President who will make these things happen. I have NEVER had this much belief in one person, and you are it.
If this blog even makes it to your eyes…thank you. From the bottom of my heart.
A hard working Middle Class Law Abiding Citizen who is sick of getting fucked in the ass and would rather be grabbed by the pussy.
Does that help? There are millions like her. 53% of White women and 63% of White men voted for Trump in 2016 according to exit polls.
But a 15-year-old is still a child, right? What kind of world have we created for our children? What is the way out of this? I’m in my third decade of asking that question (since Bowling for Columbine). And I’m tired of asking it. I’ve been silent since last Tuesday, because if I have nothing new to add to this recurring tragedy, my soul asks: what’s the point?
But this one's closer to home. My grandfather worked at a printing press in Oxford during the Great Depression. One night, driving home to Flint, his car skidded off an icy road and he almost died. My great-great grandparents and their families settled in an area between Lapeer and Oxford in the 1830s. Canada, the closest we get in this world to a pacifist country, is just 43 miles away. At the high school between mine in Davison and the one in Oxford is Lapeer High School, where Oklahoma City bomber/helper Terry Nichols went to school. On a farm north of Lapeer, Timothy McVeigh and Nichols built their practice bombs before they blew up the federal building. Violence, everywhere. The Michigan militia looking to kidnap and kill the Governor. Can you and I put an end to this madness?
I have an idea. I’ll share it with you in the coming weeks.
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