Rev. Connie Madden on deep communal loss and grieving

Mayberry Lost:
A Chaplain’s Reflection on the Kirkwood Shootings

The snow was falling heavily, as I stood for an hour, watching the seemingly endless procession of marked and unmarked police cars passing through my hometown of Kirkwood, Missouri. Officers from the whole St. Louis area and across the state had come to support the community and to grieve over the loss of the two police officers and three city officials. Cars from dozens of precincts circled the downtown, passed City Hall, and then met for a service in the park.

A gunman had opened fire during a city council meeting the week before, and the town was still reeling from the horror and was coping with the continuing progression of funerals. The mayor, who suffered a serious head wound, squeezed the hand of another mayor during a visit today. My husband assisted in the funeral for the shooter, nicknamed “Cookie” by his friends, at the local Methodist church, because his home church was too small for the number of attendees.

When City Hall was riddled with gunfire, the heart of my hometown was shattered, literally and emotionally. As a chaplain, I have spent many nights responding to calls, supporting shooting victims and their families. But something was different about this event. The senseless waste of life and the tragic loss of safety and trust in the system of suburban government, mingled to signal what one bystander cried, “If this can happen here, it can happen anywhere.” Innocence shattered again, as it has been in our nation’s most cherished places-- our schools, our small towns, and our most treasured cities.

What really helps in these extreme times of grief? Many have found comfort in public displays, such as tying black ribbons around trees, placing flowers in front of City Hall, gathering in public places for candlelight services, offering support to grieving families, and through fundraisers for fallen officers. Attempting to dispel the possible divisions, ministers from various racial communities are holding joint services together, communicating the need for unity and asking for an end to violent means. Schools are encouraging students to talk with counselors and letters were sent home giving suggestions for helping each age group deal with grief. A blog site was set up for people to communicate their feelings and condolences, which now has over 200 comments. One victim’s family created a website where people can voice their support.

Several church services had open microphones and the ringing of a bell for each victim- a powerful and personal way to honor each person. One city council member helped with the clean-up and remodeling of the council room, because he felt he was doing something constructive to move forward, in his world that had been turned upside down. The St. Louis Post Dispatch, the city newspaper, posted the front page Weather bird cartoon, a symbol of major city events, as weeping for the town of Kirkwood. The next day, Weather bird was kneeling in front of the names of the victims. All of these responses help us to feel joined together, in a potentially racially divisive and dangerous event.

In these times of communal grief, we all are responsible for the health and well-being of our communities. The more opportunities for expression, the greater the variety of venues for releasing the sorrow, the greater our chances for healing become. As I watched the police cars pass today, I wanted to walk away, to turn from this powerful and painful sight, yet I knew I needed to see it. I needed to grieve with my community, so that we can begin the process of renewal together.

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