Dearest Gentle Reader,
This author returns to her writing desk this week not with a quill dipped in scandal of the romantic variety, but in something considerably more grave, for it seems our fair Borough has, in the span of a few short days, furnished enough drama to fill an entire season.
Let us begin, with the matter of the Borough Council, that most dignified assembly of civic gentlemen and gentlewomen who convene each fortnight to debate ordinances and whether the chambers can withstand the weight of an engaged citizenry.
The Council meeting scheduled for the 7th of July was postponed, on account of an expected crush of attendees so numerous that the modest chambers could not properly accommodate them. One is given to understand that a great many of these eager souls intended to voice their opinions — rather loudly, one presumes — on the matter of a certain proposed data center.
The Borough was caught rather flat-footed by the scale of public interest. One might say the Council has confused “the people’s business” with “business the people are not meant to attend.”
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But Gentle Reader, if only civic squabbling were the whole of it. In the small hours of Independence Day itself, a woman fleeing for her life was shot at by a man who fired eleven rounds from a 9mm handgun with what police describe as an intent to kill her. Eleven rounds, Dear Reader, discharged at a fleeing woman, striking not only her but an occupied home and nearby vehicles.
The gentleman in question was taken into custody on the 7th of July and now faces charges including attempted criminal homicide and aggravated assault — this, despite the rather inconvenient fact that he was not licensed to carry a firearm, previous convictions having disqualified him from ownership altogether.
One recalls, with some bitterness, the official assurance that this “isolated incident” poses no further risk to the public — a phrase this author has heard uttered so often it ought to be embroidered on a sampler.
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And yet, as if the Borough had not suffered indignity enough, Wednesday morning, a young man was found murdered in the street, may he rest in peace.
One shooting and one death most foul, within a single week, on top of a Council meeting too popular for its own furniture. This author does not know what the Borough put in the water this July, but whatever it was, she rather wishes they hadn’t.
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Which brings this author, reluctantly, to a gentleman who cannot escape mention: His Honor, Mayor Leo Lutz. Readers will recall that the mayor campaigned last autumn on a recycled promise of “safe streets” for Columbia. A tidy slogan, rather more easily promised than delivered.
One does hate to be the bearer of unkind arithmetic, but a fortnight in which a woman is chased down and shot at eleven times, a young man turns up in the street, and the Council itself must flee its own residents and others does not strike this author as the picture of safety the Mayor painted for the electorate.
This author does not pretend to solve in a single column what vexes an entire Borough, but she shall say this: a promise made on a campaign trail is a debt owed to those who believed it, and debts, unlike gunfire, do not fire themselves off into the night and disappear.
Until next we meet, Gentle Reader, do lock your doors and mind your street corners.
Your most devoted correspondent,
Cassandra Whistletown
Columbia Spy 