The policeman put on his cap at 1:45 p.m. and ran off to a distress call down the street. The dispatcher had to remind the policeman to bring his weapon, because it was a dangerous (as well as distressful) situation, the dispatcher said.
She slapped his cheek hard, when he told her that he had lost faith in their life together. And she watched his face blankly as the redness in his cheek slowly went away.
"Inequality in our society is the whodangey of all the goodness and capabilities of organized heroes where ardent strides are kept alight toward the goal of futile gesticulations," a respected professor (who wished to be a policeman when he was a child) was saying as me and my friends were sitting together in the grass near the fence outside University Hall on that October afternoon when that kid shot at several people randomly on campus. And then he killed himself, the policemen said.