He Got Shot With A What?

I know this happened a month ago, in fact 4 weeks ago tomorrow, so isn’t exactly current, but I have to write about it, because it freaked me right the hell out when it happened, and when something freaks me right the hell out, sometimes it’s good to write about it. So off we go.

Just because this song has chased me whenever I think about this topic, have a listen.

So yeah, I’m sure anyone around here, or anyone who knows me knows exactly what I’m going to talk about.

For the rest of you, here’s the short version. On the morning of October 5, the story goes that Michael Gibbon was taking his usual early morning walk, when out of nowhere, ptwaaaaong, he got hit in the chest with an arrow. He collapsed in someone else’s yard, was taken to hospital much later, and died. For days, nobody had any answers or clues as to who would do this or why this would happen. Police were searching, stopping people on the nearby streets, trying their best to figure this out, but even they couldn’t tell us if it was targeted or random.

Then, a week or 2 later, they pulled over a dude for a traffic stop, and the dude whipped out a pellet gun and shot a police officer in the face! Huh? So they took him into custody, and it came out that he was one of many persons of interest in this whole arrow thing. after a few days, he was charged with Gibbon’s murder.

Aside: Please don’t think I’m making fun of this. I can’t even imagine what his family is going through.

It’s weird. When I write it like that, somehow it fails to capture the way things felt for those few days, maybe because everything feels all neatly bundled up and tied together. But during those days where nobody knew anything, I’m not going to lie, it entered my mind a lot. I wouldn’t say it changed my behaviour, but it made me be a little more vigilant. Once, while I was waiting for my ride at an office across from one of the high schools that was put into hold and secure, I heard a sound that resembled gasping, hickupping and maybe someone doing push-ups. I never found out who or what was making that sound, but my first thought was “Is that the sound you would make if shot with an arrow?”

It also made me try to analyze why this bothered me so much. People get randomly shot all the time, but I don’t worry about myself. Is it because I don’t hear about as many shootings in Kitchener? But I’m sure there have been people shot. I don’t remember walking down the street wondering if I should worry.

Is it because I know the area where it happened, and have walked there from work? Maybe, especially since the area that got locked down reached not too super far from work.

Is it because it’s a freaking arrow, and who the hell does that? But really, should that matter, except for the idea that arrows are reeeally quiet? Is it more the idea that it’s something that could happen without warning? I could be walking down the road, and suddenly get hit and not even know what the hell happened?

Or is it the fact that it seemed to be completely random? We humans always want a reason for something to happen. Did the attacker and the victim know each other? Were they into drugs or gangs or something else shady? Somehow, knowing that makes the rest of us feel safer, as horrible as that is. But by the sounds of this, we have no idea why Gibbon got hit. For all we know, the attacker just wanted to watch someone go down. Writing that sends chills down my spine.

Or is it all of the above? I’m starting to think it is. I definitely have to say that this story is one of the weirder things I’ve had happen close to me.

So what’s the point of writing all of this, aside from hopefully rationalizing this so it makes sense? I don’t know. I guess I wonder if I’m weird. I hope not. I’d like to think I’m rational and logical, but when things like this happen, I have to wonder just how rational and logical I really am.

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  1. You’re not weird. This is the sort of thing that simply doesn’t happen. And when I say that, I don’t just mean here in town. I don’t think there are many places these days where people are getting routinely mortally wounded by arrows completely at random. Of course you’re going to think about it, because you’re there every day. And of course you’re going to do things a little differently. Not lifechangingly differently, but differently. The thought is going to pass through your brain for a second. You’re going to hear things just a little more clearly. You’re going to take an extra look or two over your shoulder. Maybe until you have some answers you’re going to take a cab where you might have taken a bus once it gets dark. It can’t really be helped if you know the story, I don’t think.

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