Beating, Death and Self-Doubt

There are a few things that just make me sick as soon as I read them. This is one of those stories.

Beating someone to death is a terrible, terrible crime. But to do it to a retarded person, that takes it to a new level of heinousness.

I'll admit that most of the time, I don't really pay too much attention to retarded people. If I had seen Ricky outside playing Batman, I probably would have just kept going.

But there are times that we have to stand up for those who can't stand up for themselves. This was one of those times when someone needed to come to his aid. Yet all they did was dial 911. Sometimes 911 just isn't enough.

I feel terrible that something like this could have happened. I'm not so naive as to think that we can prevent discrimination and bullying against those less fortunate. But I feel ashamed that no one stood up to be counted when it really meant something. They all hid behind 911 and cell phones.

The worst part is that I'm pretty sure that I would intervene to protect someone like Ricky, but I sometimes wonder. But that little bit of self-doubt scares me. I truly hope I never have to find out if I've got what it takes.