After Nickel Mines: On Guns and Other Forms of Self-Protection
“Kids five and up get in free the first Sunday of the month,” Matt said. We were at Barcade in downtown New Haven, across from Elm City Games, for a date night in late February.
The author describes a visit to an arcade in New Haven with her neighbor Matt, a former musician in his late 40s, to play shooting video games. She reflects on her childhood memories of arcades with her father, who enjoyed gambling and arcade games, often taking her and her sister to Ocean City, New Jersey, for weekends. Her father, described as a gambling addict, would leave money for snacks and let the children play games like the Tilt-a-Whirl. The author recalls how her father’s behavior—such as lying about her age to get free entry to sports games—made her question the reliability of rules and instructions. She also mentions her husband Jared’s rural upbringing in Vermont, where he and Matt grew up riding dirt bikes and being exposed to guns through hunting. The author admits struggling with tasks requiring precision, like driving a manual car or playing arcade games, which she attributes to her father’s critical remarks about her lack of skill.
The author discusses her difficulty understanding directions, such as reading a compass, and how her father’s behavior contributed to her skepticism about rules. She explains that when a parent dies young, especially a father, it can feel like losing a moral compass. However, she questions this idea, suggesting that her father’s compass might have been ‘backwards’ due to his tendency to bend or break rules. For example, he would take the family to the beach without paying for tags, encouraging them to run into the water when inspectors arrived. The author describes her father as someone who prioritized immediate gratification and risk-taking, such as gambling and reckless behavior, over stability and responsibility. This upbringing left her with a sense of moral ambiguity about authority and rules.
After a night at the arcade, the author and her husband Jared discuss gun ownership with their neighbors Matt and Dianna during a car ride home. Both Matt and Jared grew up in families that owned guns and emphasized self-protection, especially in rural areas where emergency services were far away. The conversation is set against the backdrop of recent violent events, such as the murders in Minneapolis, which occurred just weeks before. The author’s husband speculates about the unpredictability of chaos, while Matt suggests they visit a shooting range to practice using guns. Dianna, who works in medical research and is described as an animal lover, expresses interest in joining them. The author feels uncomfortable but does not voice her disagreement immediately. Later, she reflects on the conversation and the growing sense of urgency around self-protection in their community.
The author describes watching video footage of violent incidents, such as the murder of Renee Good during an encounter with ICE officers in Minneapolis and the shooting of Alex Pretti, a protester who was protecting a neighbor. These events leave a lasting impression on her, making her question whether running or other forms of escape can help her process the trauma. She connects these incidents to broader national issues, such as immigration enforcement and public safety. The author also reflects on her father’s gambling addiction and how it shaped her understanding of impulse control and risk-taking. She compares her father’s behavior to her own struggles with running, including seven stress fractures over her lifetime, which she attributes to pushing herself to the point of failure.
The author shares her experience writing a book about the Nickel Mines school shooting, which occurred in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, in October 2006. In this incident, a local milk truck driver named Carl Roberts entered an Amish schoolhouse, took ten girls hostage, and killed five before taking his own life. The author explains that Roberts blamed the Amish community for the death of his stillborn daughter, viewing their faith as a lie. She discusses her research into the Amish response to the tragedy, including their public forgiveness of Roberts, which was rooted in their religious text, Martyrs Mirror. The author also mentions her strained relationship with her own father, who died during the COVID-19 pandemic. She recalls a conversation where her father suggested an alternative ending for her book, highlighting his tendency to impose his own narratives on her work.
The author describes the anxiety she feels about sending her child Leland to school on the bus, especially in the context of recent school shootings like Sandy Hook in 2012, which occurred 80 miles from her home in suburban Connecticut. She reflects on the collective shock experienced by parents and teachers that day, as well as the lingering fear that such violence could happen anywhere. The author admits to imagining worst-case scenarios, such as her child being involved in an incident at school, which she finds difficult to admit even to herself. She contrasts the Amish community’s response to violence—characterized by forgiveness and resilience—with her own feelings of vulnerability and the modern challenges of parenting in a society where safety is not guaranteed.
