Mental Illness And Guns Have Created A National Epidemic
Before day’s end, 86 Americans who were alive yesterday will be dead from gun violence. One of us dies from a bullet every 17 minutes.
That statistic lends a certain futility to the anguished plea of Richard Martinez: “Not one more!” He made this appeal after losing his only son, Chris, in the shooting rampage last weekend in Santa Barbara, California.
On Tuesday, Martinez led more than 20,000 people chanting “Not one more!” at a memorial rally, and the slogan has since become a trending Twitter hashtag.
But in the three days between his son’s death on Friday and the rally, more than 250 Americans died from bullets. Let me tell you about one. Isaac Sims, 26, died during Memorial Day weekend in my hometown, Kansas City.
Police had been called to his family’s home after Sims fired shots, although he injured nobody. After a five-hour standoff with police, Sims emerged from the house brandishing a rifle and was shot down by police.
Sims’ death might appear utterly unrelated to the mass murder in Santa Barbara, but they do possibly share a common thread: mental illness.
I say “possibly” because there’s a lot we don’t know about Sims. What we do know is grimly familiar. He did two tours in Iraq, and in the week prior to being shot by police, he’d sought help from the local VA for what his family says was PTSD. There wasn’t bed space. He was told to wait 30 days. Treatment had been ordered for Sims through a special court set up for veterans; he’d pleaded guilty to domestic assault.
The circumstances of his death raise the question of whether suicide was a motive. An estimated 22 veterans commit suicide daily. Had the despondent Sims, a trained marksman, wanted to harm someone else, he could have done it. But he was the only one who died that Sunday.
What if, when Sims approached the VA for help, a trained counselor had asked him whether he had firearms at home? What if, based on how he answered that question, he could have qualified for immediate admission to the hospital? Would he be alive today?
What if the sheriff’s deputies sent to visit Elliot Rodger, the Santa Barbara gunman, a month before his shooting spree had asked about his access to firearms? They had been sent to check on his well-being, prompted by the concerns of his mother and his therapist over videos he had posted. But in the 10-minute check, they didn’t watch the videos or enter his apartment.
Would it not have made sense for the deputies to determine what kinds of guns and ammunition he had access to?