THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, March 17, 1996 TAG: 9603150104
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E7 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY ANN G. SJOERDSMA
LENGTH: Medium: 75 lines
THE PHRASE ``random violence,'' now part of our everyday lexicon, describes street violence that befalls people who are strangers to their assailants. Such people don't provoke. They are simply ``in the wrong place at the wrong time.'' Their fates are ``without cause,'' ``senseless.''
But violence is never senseless or random. Randomness denotes a haphazardness, a lack of pattern, purpose or cause. There is always a cause and effect. And hence the possibility for control.
A victim need not be known to his assailant to be targeted, deliberately and specifically. Criminals choose victims and crime scenes, for reasons.
Recently, two people were killed, shot point-blank, in busy parking lots outside Norfolk stores, one at the Janaf Shopping Center, the other at the Kmart across from Military Circle. The murders were chilling for all of us, not only because of the heartache suffered by the victims' families, but because they struck close to home: You or I could have been one of the victims.
But, of course, we couldn't. Because we weren't there. A simple proposition, but a fundamental one. Location is significant.
Only those two people, Ann Lim and Paul Bernard, selected by presumed killer Sammy Gary for reasons known only to him, could have been murdered. Among all of the shoppers, they were chosen.
Why these two people?
Perhaps Gary, who was later slain by police, fancied Bernard's red T-bird. Bernard was killed in a carjacking.
Perhaps Lim wore expensive clothes and looked like an easy robbery mark.
Perhaps Gary first checked out the crowds and then chose people who were removed from others.
Am I blaming the victims here? No. I am disputing the ``randomness.''
From the point of view of the perpetrator, there is none. His actions are deliberate, purposeful, intentional, designed. To characterize his violence as random, simply because he doesn't know his victim's identity, is to whitewash his intent. And to yield control to him.
We do this much too often.
And yet, victims do contribute to their situations.
One December night in Baltimore 12 years ago, I went Christmas shopping in the Inner Harbor. The trip was successful. As I headed back to my car, the lone person crossing a skywalk, arms loaded down with bags, my purse, even my gym bag, I thought about what a sitting duck I was for robbers.
It was a sixth sense. But it didn't help me.
Minutes later, two young men, who had been crouched in a stairwell of the skywalk, approached. When they split up to pass me on either side, I knew I was ``dead.'' I had nowhere to run. Fortunately, they took my possessions and left me alone.
Had I been a random victim? No. Only I, walking alone at 8:45 on a desolate December night, burdened with Christmas gifts, could have been targeted. They were waiting for someone like me to come along. For me. I could've taken another route. I could've waited for another shopper to cross the skywalk with me. But by the time I assessed the circumstances and perceived the danger, it was too late.
Was the robbery my fault? No. Could I have prevented it? Yes. Did I cause it?
Cause, like criminal activity, is a continuous sequence of actions whose result can be furthered or thwarted by a number of ``but fors.''
``But for'' the time of day, the desolation, the shopping bags, etc., I might not have been robbed. But for the semiautomatic handgun that Gary apparently stole from a car at the Oceanfront, Lim and Bernard might not be dead.
We shouldn't have to be so safety-conscious as we go about our daily lives. It doesn't seem right. But now that we're on notice, we would be foolish to ignore risks, both real and imagined.
Instead of resigning to randomness, we would do well to consider seriously the ``but fors.'' But for our control, there is none. MEMO: Ann G. Sjoerdsma is a lawyer and book editor of The Virginian-Pilot. by CNB