Judge not less you be judged

Nolan Lee Davis grew up in the same neighborhood as me. His family attended the same church that mine did. And I'm sure that, for all intents and purposes, his upbringing wasn't much deferent then mine was. Had I not been born 26 years later then him, we might have been neighborhood friends. But what could have been, was not. And what was, was by very definition, a tragedy. on Thursday, May 4, 1995, Nolan was shot and killed. And I jumped for joy when I herd the shots ring across our neighborhood. I remember the creepy feeling that I got in my stomach when I would ride my bike passed Nolan's house. And the few times that I actually saw him, I remember that his eyes were dark and empty. Nolan was despised by the community. Even hated by some people. Stories circulated among us children about him." Kidnaper" was what we called him. As a fallen sheep of our church's flock, Nolan was told to leave after he had displayed questionable behavior with a 12 year old boy at church. After being convicted of sexually abusing a minor, Nolan served nine years in prison before he returned to live in a cabin on the back of his parent's property. I was on the living room floor playing with legos, when the sharif's deputy came to our door and told us about the stand off between Nolan and the police, and advised us to stay inside until it was resolved. At 5:00 am that morning, Nolan had shot his father while he was sleeping on the couch and then fled to his cabin in the woods. As soon as the deputy left, I turned on the TV and saw our neighborhood on the news. Familiar faces where being interviewed by news corespondents. They talked about how Nolan had been a plague to our community and how afraid they were to let their children play in the street. Nothing this exciting, had ever happened to me before. There was my house on the news. And people that I know were being seen all over western Washington. And then it happened. We heard three loud gun shots. A little latter, the news anchor announced that Nolan was dead. All at once, I jumped up and yelled hooray! I was free from the fear that Nolan would someday overpower me, or worse yet, one of my younger siblings and take us away. I was excited to explore the woods near our home, that he lived in, and find his cabin with out running into him. But most of all, I was glad that, what I thought to be justice, had finally come the the man that I labeled as evil. It has taken me thirteen years to realize my own evil. Perhaps his death was a fitting end to a demented life. Or perhaps it was a sad conclusion to a sorrowful existence. In any case, I am not pure or holly enough to judge him. And I'm now ashamed that i would rejoice at the death of a fellow human being. Nolan's story was a tragedy at best. And I will never understand why providence would let such things happen. I can only control my reaction to to them. And so it is with deep sincerity that I offer this apology. I'm sorry for judging you Nolan. http://www.seattlepi.com/archives/1995/9505040071.asp