In memorial

By TAD BARTIMUS

I am full of rage over the murders of Carole Sund and the two innocent young girls who were in her charge on that last happy day in Yosemite National Park. Knowing there can be no safeguards in an open society to prevent such a tragedy from happening makes me feel even more impotent and angry.

This confirms what always lurks in the back of our civilized minds: there is good and evil in all of us, only circumstances -- love and values, kindness and hope -- separate monsters from saints.

I cannot shake the mental image I carry of their burned-out car in the woods. I am haunted by the last snapshot of two beautiful teenagers frolicking carefree in the snow. I have to turn away from the celluloid eyes of a devoted mother who couldn't protect her child at the end.

As I wrap this feeling of sadness and collective loss around me like a shroud I surprise myself by feeling capable of driving a stake through the perpetrators' hearts. This confirms what always lurks in the back of our civilized minds: there is good and evil in all of us, only circumstances -- love and values, kindness and hope -- separate monsters from saints.

Most likely this crime brings bile to my throat and adrenaline to my heart because of its senselessness. What happened to Carole Sund, her 15-year-old daughter Julie and their 16-year-old friend Silvina Pelosso could happen to anyone in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is the tale of Little Red Riding Hood come to terrible life in a real forest with no happy ending.

I didn't feel this connection to the dead when Nicole Simpson was murdered or when the gunman on the Long Island commuter train started firing. Charles Manson's victims were far removed from my lifestyle; so were the Los Angeles Hillside Strangler's. When the gay college student was murdered in Wyoming and the abortion doctor was gunned down in Alabama I was sorry, but felt somehow detached. I lived behind the illusion that these atrocities were far removed from my life.

That rationale doesn't work with the Sund murders. What happened to them ought to hit home with anyone who goes on innocent family outings, who doesn't arm themselves to the teeth against strangers, who starts out every day thinking about other things besides their personal safety. The randomness of this crime particularly its link to a national park, where even tiny plants are protected strikes at the heart of our right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

I often travel alone through national parks. I stop and admire empty vistas. I stay in one-horse towns with a single motel sign lit by flashing neon. I use public rest stops, eat in diners where only the waitress and I take up space. I talk to strangers because they smile and say hello. I consciously refuse to live my life as a hostage to fear.

But I'm not stupid: I lock my motel room door, keep to lighted parking lots, act friendly but not familiar. Still, I tend to trust people. By all accounts, so did Carole Sund. Her parents, married 47 years and head of a close-knit family, taught their children to look for the best in others, to believe in the goodness of people.

Her murderer or murderers were not good people. No matter what their ethnic, cultural, social, religious or economic background turns out to be, they have no values. Through physical and/or emotional experience they are desensitized and incapable of feeling loss, remorse or guilt. They have such hatred in their hearts they are without the reality of consequences. Are they adults who were once children falling through the cracks of social welfare? Probably. But that can no longer be an excuse.

How do we spot a little child now being groomed to grow up to become tomorrow's most wanted criminal? Look closely: he's bad parenting, bad teaching, bad government. He's not held accountable. He's not protected from violence. He's not saved from neglect. He's every selfish thing we ever did, every good thing we didn't do. He is not loved.

Carole Sund, Julie Sund and Silvina Pelosso were deeply loved. They will be missed forever. But their loss must not erode our right to live in pursuit of happiness. Their killers must be caught and punished commensurate with their crime. Justice must prevail so that our personal freedoms are preserved.

Likewise, my anger at the senselessness of their deaths must be channeled into a positive act. I must look around and find that little child who needs love. I owe that much to him, and to the memory of three women I never want to forget.

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