Eight years to justice

Eight years to justice for a Virginia killer.

Mercifully, justice has taken her course for the so-called DC sniper.

One can never celebrate a death, but I do believe that we should acknowledge when justice is served, when justice's wobbly wheels ultimately reach their final destination.

It is a very somber thing to take a life.

I would grieve for those who are forced to do so by a man's actions .. a man who chose to take other lives, indiscriminately and without mercy.

I also salute those who are strong enough to carry out the sentence. They must strengthen themselves in knowing they do what is right, and knowing that they've been burdened with terrible task.

Eight years ago last month, visiting Washington D.C. I had an afternoon free to explore, so walked the capitol mall. I misjudged time and a map: had to retrace my steps to find the metro stop. Along the way I realized that many times in the big city I walked completely alone, and pleasurably taunted myself with the potential dangers I might face. I wasn't afraid .. after all, I'm bigger than most, and I had my Doc Martens on .. I was confident. Then.

Eventually, well after darkness had fallen and the trip had ceased to be a game and self-taunting was no longer pleasurable, I found my original stop and returned to my hotel. Early the next morning I left the nation's capitol. On the day of my departure the first shots rang out and someone died. For days after the horror continued. And I realized, reading the news stories, that I'd been a perfect target while lost in the capitol. Because a man chose violence I found fear.

But I don't choose fear. I choose justice. I cannot, will not celebrate this death, or any death. But I will reflect somberly that the ultimate punishment seems just.

May God have mercy on our souls.