During the April 3, 2002 council meeting, Mayor C. H. Rowe kicked off April as "Child Abuse Prevention Month." And for once, I was actually a bit proud of him. And -- believe it or not -- even moved, as he commented on this action during the meeting:

Unfortunately, my fledgling respect was short-lived due to an incident that occurred during the following Saturday's Safe Stop event at the middle school. Not to put too fine a point on it, Mayor Rowe "became unglued" because of the noise emanating from the event, which was starting to wind down around 10:15 or so, as the mayor and his wife were arriving home that evening.

Whether the mayor was genuinely upset because of his concerns for the noise or had reacted out of other motivations, perhaps we'll never know. What we do know is that -- to use one of my favorite expressions -- he went "Billy Jack." By the time the mayor was finished aggressively and repeatedly stabbing his finger at an off-duty police officer's face, yelling and taunting him to take physical action, the officer's young child -- whom the officer/chaperon had taken with him to enjoy the dance music and fun -- was crying profusely and by all accounts I've heard, pretty well traumatized.

Perhaps these events were exaggerated by those who relayed them to me. But I heard the same story from three separate and reliable sources. But the fact that the child was upset enough to be crying at all indicates that the mayor's actions were inappropriate -- as the leader of this city and as a "role" model, at the least, and abusive, at worst.

Originally I had planned on writing an editorial about child sexual and physical abuse to tie in with the mayor's splendid proclamation and a DSHS letter forwarded to me by Monroe Councilman Marc Mechling regarding SCTFs (Secure Community Transition Facilities), a volatile subject. I had planned on writing about the consequences of unwise actions: for the victims, the perpetrator and the perpetrator's family. I had planned on writing about the tragedy of abuse in early childhood, which is what this Prevention of Child Abuse month is all about. About tragedies with rippling consequences washing over lives and years, like some bizarre H. G. Wells time machine gone haywire. About the devastation to future lives, people we don't know or will never know, because of a life-changing act in a moment of mindless passion. About the difference between an act of violence and an act caused by a sickness, and the problem of what to do with both types of perpetrators. About solving these problems by preventing the offending event in the first place, which is the very heart of Mayor Rowe's proclamation.

But because of last weekend's events at Safe Stop, I have -- sadly -- been forced to change my focus a bit. All I can think about now is how that little boy felt as he watched his father being humiliated and harassed by the mayor, and what future ripples the event will cause for that child.

Everyone is flawed. Everyone's human. And probably every family has a member they'd prefer to keep locked away in the back of the family closet. We do. A close member of our family is currently incarcerated for a despicable crime, along the lines of this subject, himself the victim of a child abuser. We're ashamed of it. If there were any way to keep it hidden, we would. But unfortunately, it's a fact of life and we cannot change it. So we deal with it as best we can, by taking "ownership" of it, as they say in today's jargon. We take a deep breath, pick up the burden, strap it on our backs, stand tall and carry it along with all our other human baggage as best we can. Even though it's nothing we personally did wrong. We were innocent bystanders, mowed down by one of life's cruel events, along with the victim.

The worst crime in any society is refusing to take responsibility for one's own actions. But especially in today's world, where accountability seems dependent upon two lawyers facing off in a courtroom, the 21^st Century equivalent of High Noon, except bereft of the satisfying denouement of good triumphing over evil in a slam-dunk kind of way.

Making mistakes is human. They will always happen. Mistakes can be forgiven. But to not shoulder the responsibility for those mistakes cannot be.

The mayor owes that father, his son and this city, an apology for his actions.

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NOTE: For those of you who will say I do not have my facts straight on this story: I spoke to one eyewitness, and two other people who saw the event, but did not hear what had been said. I also contacted two other individuals who witnessed this event first-hand, and left messages, requesting they contact me so I could obtain a more detailed account of what was said during the exchange that night, but neither one returned my call, unfortunately. I will be pleased to print a very public retractoin and apology if any facts as reproted here are incorrect.