Last year it was a mugging and attempted sexual assault.
This year it's a murder. Last night, three blocks away.
For various friends and relatives reading this, I'm totally fine and not in any danger. This seems to have been a targeted shooting, which, while no consolation for the victim or her family and friends, is a relief for the neighbors. It should also be pointed out that I lived in the same neighborhood for six years, completely unscathed.
In fact, had I not caught a mention on the evening news, I wouldn't have even known about it. I even drove past the scene this morning, completely oblivious to what had happened. I think I must have heard sirens last night, but since the fire station is three blocks in the other direction I often hear sirens during the night and so usually think nothing of them.
So rather than feeling nervous about the state of the neighborhood, I think my unease stems from the strange sense of isolation I can't help but feel. Something so serious happened so close, and yet I'm totally unaffected. That seems wrong somehow: one of my neighbors, however erstwhile, was just killed in our midst. We may not have known about it, or even known her, but we still should care. Right?
The problem is that it's hard to know what our feelings of concern are really connected to. Are they sincere concern for the victim, or are they born from our desire to overcome our anonymous urban estrangement and feel connected to horrible events? Of course, does it matter? Is feeling a manufactured an emotion somehow worse than not feeling any emotion at all? Somehow I get the feeling that the answer is yes.