A few days ago, one of our nation’s many mass school shootings came up in conversation, and I started to share a thought about the perpetrator — but I couldn’t quite remember his name.
He was famous, for a minute. But not now — now, he’s just dead.
Mass shooters kill to assert their personal power and individuality. Yet in an odd bit of poetic justice, their names get forgotten instead.
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Students and faculty arrive at Columbine High School for a memorial service marking the one-year anniversary of the school shooting, in Littleton Colo., April 20, 2000.
Reuters
A few days ago, one of our nation’s many mass school shootings came up in conversation, and I started to share a thought about the perpetrator — but I couldn’t quite remember his name.
He was famous, for a minute. But not now — now, he’s just dead.

About the Author
Kevin D. Williamson is a former fellow at National Review Institute and a former roving correspondent for National Review.
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A few days ago, one of our nation’s many mass school shootings came up in conversation, and I started to share a thought about the perpetrator — but I couldn’t quite remember his name.
He was famous, for a minute. But not now — now, he’s just dead.

About the Author
Kevin D. Williamson is a former fellow at National Review Institute and a former roving correspondent for National Review.
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