“Is this how we want to spend our precious time together? To what ends will we go until we learn none of this is the answer? The hatred is energy wasted.“
By DOMINIC DESCHAMBAULT | Biddeford
It was a beautiful summer morning. A quiet Monday started with birds chirping and the sun shining brightly.
Around 8:30 a.m., I started seeing reports of a shooting and one person dead in Biddeford.
About 9:30 a.m., it had become news that it was ICE who had shot the person.
We knew the deceased was male and a car was involved, at this point.
My partner and I were both returning to work from vacation. I kept my daughter home with me to ease her transition from vacation back to daycare. Peppa Pig was on while she slept in her pack n play and I attended the necessary work meetings for the morning.
By noon, the first half of my split shift had ended.
My daughter and I went to the local grocery store to grab a few things after a brief lunch at home. On our return, I decided to make the slight detour toward the scene of the incident. Traffic was being directed away. Cars were at a bit of a stand still.
There was as a protest that had begun marching toward downtown. Once I reached Main Street you could see the crowd of people gathering by Susan Collins’ office. A police officer had to again redirect us but I asked if I could pull a U-turn, which they let me.
Later in the afternoon, more news came out that the deceased was not the target of the operation. I began visiting Facebook too often to get updates but in the meantime being exposed to a cesspool of hatred, bigotry, ignorance and downright cruelty.
I didn’t want to partake in this but couldn’t help myself in a few instances. I watched as much video of the incident and listened to the eyewitness accounts as I could to analyze how we got here, whether it was justified in any way. Nothing in my view showed me the “officers” were in any immediate danger and that deadly force was justified.
At 4:30 p.m., I returned to work as my partner came home from hers. More information about the deceased was released: they were here legally, working with a Social Security number. They were a father to a three-year-old daughter.
At 7 p.m., while I was still working, a vigil was held with hundreds in attendance for remembrance of the man. By the time my shift ended I was both exhausted from a day of caring for a one-year-old, eight hours of work and the attention paid to the matter. I found myself asleep within 30 minutes of leaving work.
The next morning, I woke up and watched the national news show the familiar scenes of the area that I grew up in and where I still call home. I saw the picture of Joan and his daughter.
And it broke me. As a father, I looked closely at those pictures and could see myself in his love for his daughter in those captured moments.
What are we doing? What are we doing? How is this Christian? How is this what any decent religion or society preaches? Is this how we want to spend our precious time together? To what ends will we go until we learn none of this is the answer? The hatred is energy wasted.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR | Dominic Deschambault is a fourth-generation Biddeford immigrant.
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