Voices of Sandy Hook deserve our attention
The first thing you notice walking up to the Sandy Hook Diner are the windows, which are covered with paper hearts and draped with those paper chains that we used to make as kids for the Christmas tree. I shuddered when I realized that was probably their initial purpose.
Each of the hundreds of hearts, every link of those chains, was fashioned by small hands in memory of their classmates and teachers who senselessly died on that fateful December’s day. They demand to be read, and respectfully so, out of the corner of an eye, over your eggs and coffee.
You can find hope as well as sorrow and prayers in the crude block letters, and if you listen carefully to your heart, you might hear the faint sound of schoolyard laughter echoing from a distant paradise reserved solely for those children.
So I would suggest to Mr. King that he and his Citizen Voices stop by the Sandy Hook Diner soon, sit down, order a slice of homemade blackberry pie, a cup of coffee, shut up and listen to the voices of the children, as they have more wisdom, compassion and love in their paper chains and hearts than is in all of his rhetoric, hyperbole and spin.