A great Google tool I use, (that is not easy to find), is a pedometer. It’s great to use to see how far I ran when I don’t stick to a regular neighborhood route. It’s good for bike rides and to see how far is the walked to the grocery store. I used it once to see how far it was, door-to-door, from my house to my friend Michelle’s in Leeds, England.
I used the pedometer this morning to see how far away poor Nancy Schmidt was who got murdered yesterday morning.
The murder was 0.0954 miles from my front porch to Nancy Schmidt’s porch.
It’s on the TV news, it’s on the radio news. It’s sad…all the neighbors are talking and everyone is a bit on edge. Many are going up to the house to look…not to see anything, but, I don’t know, to come to grips with it somehow.
There is a sensation I get when these types of things happen. Everyone familiar with the tragedy has a sense of gloom, but those that aren’t aware behave normally. That contrast is creepy for me. I remember when I was young and my Grandmother died and our family was grieving and people we’d pass couldn’t care less. At the time it seemed extra strange, but why would people that don’t know something bad happened be upset?
I got that same feeling last night as I was going up the stairs in the dark and hearing the sound of the ice cream truck, ding-a-ding-ding. Happy sounds on a gloomy street. Just so eerie.
