RONNIE DeFeo, sole architect of the “Amityville Horror” by slaughtering his family, snickered at a time-worn joke, that I first heard when I was 14.
I was with him in Dannemora State Prison: “I should have demanded mercy from the court because I was an orphan,” he said. That is really rib-tickling.
But, in a bizarre, almost disgusting, if slightly crooked parallel, that is exactly what the family of Dylan Klebold is doing, which almost defies any logic.
OK, Susan and Thomas Klebold, parents of Dylan, want to sue Jefferson County for failing to prevent their son from carrying out the Columbine HS massacre.
In other words, We created a monster, but it was all your fault, because you didn’t bust his best friend, Eric Harris, who was his partner in the blood bath.
Bill Tuthill, assistant county attorney, could not have said it better: “It’s rather astonishing, that the Klebolds would hold the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department responsible for their own son’s behavior.”
As someone who is quite the imperfect parent, I can bet you my bottom dollar, if ever I saw my kids up to their armpits, talking about explosives, grenades and violence, I might get a clue that we were in a whole heck of trouble.
If ever I heard about my kid, shouting on a constant basis, “Heil Hitler,” and giving a Nazi salute, I would think there was a little more in the air than just oxygen.
If my kids continually wore a black trench coat, whether it be summer or winter, and kids who came to the house and school, who were his friends, wore the same uniform, as if it were a second skin, I think a personality transplant could be an option.
When 14 kids were blasted into oblivion, and 20 others were wounded, in the Harris-Klebold hate-fest, apparently Mr. and Mrs. Klebold never knew about Nazi salutes, never knew that their 17-year-old son would spew out racial epithets.
Never noticed the combat camouflage outfit he wore under the signature trench coat he and his friends wore.
Never even somehow heard a whisper of Rebecca Hines, who told Denver Post reporter Kevin Simpson: “If they [Klebold and Harris] didn’t put their names on top of their school papers, you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. They wrote about the same stuff: rocket launchers, grenades, shotguns, zombies killing people, ripping people’s flesh.”
They never heard of a videotape that their son produced, where a perpetrator addressed a basketball player, and said: “Bang, you’re dead.”
We are told that Susan Klebold was brilliant, as a counselor at the Colorado Community College. We are told Tom Klebold was similarly brilliant as an oil and gas executive. We are further told, that he and Susan established a successful real-estate management firm.
But I don’t care what I’m told. If they’re suing the Sheriff’s Department, all I can say is, their only excuse would have to be, they slept all day, and worked all night, not seeing or hearing about a nano-second of their son’s behavior.
When monstrous and instant tragedy strikes without warning, there always seems to be finger pointing, just as instant as the outrage itself.
Clearly, this lawsuit, no matter on what convoluted and wrongheaded grounds it is instituted, only serves to bury knives in the hearts of parents, which have already hemorrhaged over the loss of their young ones.
When will people, anyone, for crying out loud, be responsible for their own actions? Perfection is so far from my life, both as a parent and an individual, I dare not start pointing a finger myself, but this makes an ugly charade of the system.
Perhaps the state of Colorado should sue the Klebolds for allowing a 17-year-old to have a BMW, give Nazi salutes, make twisted videos, talk in disgusting racial terms, and wear a black trench coat, as his own signature of independent protest and hate.
Perhaps the Sheriff’s Department should sue the Klebolds for not paying for a few boxing lessons, or encouraging him to play football, or teaching him to dance, or sing, or play the piano, instead of, apparently, letting him grow to be a monster, like a fast-growing weed, in front of their very eyes.
They weren’t aware of it? Yeah, and I don’t freeze in the snow.