At the Gazette, Brenda Gardner was busy with her notes, typing frantically for both the newspaper article as well as her approaching TV news slot concerning the mass murders. The news room was frantic. People were calling relatives, gleaning stories and anecdotes about the dearly departed for human interest stories and short bits to be inserted here and there between short yet highly focused comments on the lives of the victims. The trick was to maintain total homage and veneration concerning each one of the innocent victims who had lost their lives in the evening’s mayhem. In the beginning, she typed,
They had thought this would be an evening to remember. For most it was an evening they might afford once or twice a year, or, for some, once in a lifetime, because Small’s European and American Cuisine was not cheap. In fact, it might be the most expensive restaurant in five surrounding counties.
Thus, Sammy and Mabel Perkins put on their best clothes before heading toward Small’s for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. She wore the best of her jewelry, and Sam even bought a thirty-three dollar tie for the occasion. They were not disappointed, the rib eye was truly outstanding. Moist. Easy to chew. Delicious. By the time they were done, they not only were satisfied, but dead.
Like the Perkins, the Browns were celebrating a special occasion. It was their daughter’s twenty-first birthday. They had feasted on duck with sweet sauce surrounded by aromatic fruits and vegetables. All of them agreed the food was the best they had ever tasted. Unfortunately, it was their last meal. When it was over they were sprawled upon the floor where the madly firing guns of Yancy Stokes had instantly felled them.
Detective Steve Branch confided in me that it was a case where a conceal carry law might have prevented most of the deaths. Mr. Branch said that just one armed person might have spelled the difference between all of these deaths and just a few of them. The trouble was that everyone in the place was purposely disarmed by the owners who demanded that the establishment always be a no gun restaurant. Mr. Brown’s Smith and Wesson was locked in his car trunk, because he knew that no one was allowed in with a weapon. Today, knowing what happened, he would have chosen his place of celebration far more carefully, and it would have saved his life as well as the lives of his family. As usual, hindsight is 20/20. Who could blame Mr. Brown. Even his favorite TV star, Captain Kirk of the fantastic USS Enterprise, had been second guessed on many of his hazardous assignments regularly resulting in the loss of life for many of his crew members. This was no different, and it was certainly nothing to be ashamed of, since no one would have guessed that a mad man would violate the restaurant’s gun code in such a violent and unfair manner. It had never happened before and would probably never happen again. For the Brown’s and more than one hundred additional victims, it was simply a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The Editor topped her story with tersely dramatic headlines stating,
“MASS MURDER AT SMALL’S ELITE RESTAURANT--178 DEAD.”