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<UID>
9301170538
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
930509
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, May 09, 1993
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
COM
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1F
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<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

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<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1993, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
PIONEER JUSTICE ONLY WORKS FOR MADMEN
</HEADLINE>
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<CORRECTION>

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<BODY>
Once upon a time, in the wild, wild West, men would shoot one another over
the smallest things: an insult, a broken promise, cheating in poker, a bad
glass of whiskey. It was pioneer justice; shoot  and ride away. If your horse
was fast enough,  you left the consequences behind.

  In time, we tried to grow more civilized. We put streetlights on corners
and carpet on floors; we took jobs and wore  neckties, elected officials and
bought stocks.  We built a tidy America where we live by the alarm clock,
drive cars, not horses; and there are laws and rules, all these things you
cannot do.

  And  we still suffer from pioneer justice. A whole new wild, wild West.
People kill as they please, they fire at will. But instead of riding off after
the bloodshed, they stick a gun in their mouth and pull  the trigger.
  In the past few weeks, it's been terribly harsh reality. On a national
scale, we had the showdown in Waco, where religious fanatics murdered several
federal agents, and then, after months holed up in an arms-loaded complex, set
fire to themselves. The remains of their leader, David Koresh, were found
burnt and with a bullet hole in his  head. His personal exit.
  And here in  our own backyard, a disgruntled worker named Larry Jasion
walked into the Dearborn Post Office with three guns in a donut box and opened
fire. He killed a supervisor and wounded his boss and a woman  he felt was
unfairly promoted. Then, for  the  climax,  he put the gun to his head and
squeezed the trigger.
  He made his getaway. Pioneer justice.
People kill with guns 
  There are two lessons  to be learned here. The first has to do with people
and guns. Koresh, a major sicko, was able to stockpile arms like some Third
World militia leader. And Jasion, clearly disturbed (his coworkers often
complained about him), was nonetheless able to acquire 13 gun permits.
Thirteen!  What is one man doing with that many guns? What justification can
you possibly find? He needed them for protection?  He has the right to bear
arms? This is the type of argument you'll get from NRA fanatics. They are the
same people who hand out bumper stickers reading "Guns don't kill. People do."
  Such nonsense.  People with guns kill. It's the deadly combination, like
fire and gasoline. Each is OK by itself. Which do you blame when they mix into
explosion?
  Which is why you keep one away from the other.  And why our nation needs
new gun-control laws as desperately as it needs economic reform. For the
rights of the few, the safety of the masses has been compromised. It is one of
our most frustrating debates.  Maybe Jasion gets his hands on guns even if
they are illegal. But maybe he doesn't. The argument to tighten gun control
isn't about solving every bullet-holed situation. It's about decreasing the
odds.
  And it's only half the solution.
Alienation helps create monsters 
  The other half is far less tangible. The motive. The creation of these
monsters. What spawns the anger or the alienation behind  a Koresh, or a
Jasion, or Gunter Parche, that lunatic in Germany who stabbed tennis star
Monica Seles during a recent match -- just dug a knife in her back -- because
he wanted a rival player to get  the No. 1 ranking?
  All the lonely people, where do they all come from? The Beatles wrote that
lyric in "Eleanor Rigby," about sad souls who live and die alone. But today,
those souls often want  to take a few corpses with them. It is no accident
that Koresh, often described as a "loner," built a following of
disenfranchised people. Or that Jasion and Parche lived like shut-ins with
only a TV  set to fuel their fantasies. In our rush to progress, we've made a
world of take-out food and home movies where you can lock yourself away for
years and still appear normal as a sickness takes over your  mind.
  In the old days, neighbors would notice if someone wasn't coming around --
Was he seen at the market? Was he farming his land? Did he stop at the bank?
Life was with people.
  Now you can  have your food delivered and get your money from a drive-thru
machine, and neighbors are only too happy if you leave them alone. Everyone is
busy. In New York City, you ask people the time and they pretend  they don't
see you, because they don't want to show you their watch out of fear you'll
steal it.
  Ultimately, I believe, the random shooters -- the ones who just snap --
are people who didn't get  the right love and attention during childhood. This
is where alienation begins and parents often have no idea the damage they are
doing with even small violations.
  But from there it can get worse.  A world that fans bitter flames, a world
that drives a mad man even madder.
  On top of that, we let them have guns.
  We talk about progress. We talk about civilization. But for all our
computer chips and space shuttles, we have not come very far from the wild,
wild West. We still hear bullets out of nowhere, and when we rush to the
scene, all we see is a cloud of dust.
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