I don’t know…


I don’t know where to start.

I don’t know what to say.

All I know for certain is that you can’t pretend it didn’t happen. Your show can’t be business as usual.

It doesn’t have to be 4 hours of sobbing and grief but you can’t just ignore what we’re all seeing.

Maybe you can give listeners a chance to vent their sorrow.

Maybe you can be the light around which the grieving coalesce once or twice an hour if you have that within you.

Maybe you can inspire those in your town to become blood donors, life-givers to overwhelm the life-takers.

It sounds trite, it feels like a cliché, but maybe you can remind us to hold those we love a bit tighter, to take our time with them a little less for granted.

Maybe you, maybe everyone on your air staff, can start creating lots of little, public random acts of kindness to blunt the evil unleashed in these ever-present random acts of violence in our world.

A free Starbucks or McDonald’s meal for the car behind you. Picking up the tab for that table across the restaurant. Paying for the groceries for the person behind you in line.

Throw an unselfish pebble into the water and hope the ripples spread.

We have to try, don’t we?

Here’s how John Oliver handled it on last night’s show on HBO:


Maybe we can all use the reassurance of our faith:
Surely, goodness and mercy will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord

I don’t know if prayer will help, but I know it can’t hurt.

Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe it’s the way we are when everyone is watching.

Maybe it’s changing more overtly, more publicly, knowing the reason will shine through our actions.

You see, we know how our story ends, even when we don’t know what brings us there.