Clearing the air over Target fire
Clearing the air over Target fire
For most young people, downtown Hollister is not located on and around San Benito Street. It’s in the big box on Airline Highway, the one with the target on the wall.
Target is more than a retail destination. It’s a place to hang out, to look over other teens, to fondle merchandise that you cannot yet afford.
So when a young man started a fire that cleared the store one recent Sunday evening, it was news. Thanks to ubiquitous cell phones and instant messaging, the story was out hours before newspapers could disseminate the information.
The doors were locked and the cleanup began. Even when the store re-opened, the acrid scent of smoke permeated the place. Some estimates place the combined cost of loss of business and cleanup at $3 million.
The fire was started when a San Benito High senior set fire to a bag of cheese puffs, a fire he immediately tried to quell himself. Teen folklore apparently has it that cheese puffs burn hecka cool.
For the record, I tried it over the weekend. They don’t produce a very satisfying pyrotechnic display, and they smell very, very bad while burning.
Something else happened over the weekend. I had a heart-wrenching conversation with the young suspect’s sister.
Until then, I did not know the identity of the suspect – by choice. Our daughter and her friends had been discussing the case for days, and it was clear she knew the boy. We asked her not to share his name with us out of deference to his family.
The kid did a stupid thing.
Sound familiar?
Were I to list the teenage instances of thoughtless, risky stupidity that would go in my biography, this newspaper could not contain them.
The boy was caught on security cameras when he had his moment of indiscretion. But here’s the important thing: he did not know police were about to arrest him when he surrendered himself and confessed.
He atoned for his mistake by doing the right thing. That demonstrates a depth of character rare among people his age.
For the last few days, I’ve asked quite a few people if they ever played with matches, and a funny thing emerged. Most women look at me as if I’ve taken leave of my senses, and reply “of course not.” But males have produced a different reaction – “heck yeah I played with matches.”
There have been some great stories, and it’s been an occasion to remember my brother and the Molotov cocktail incident, or a friend who actually believed it when told that napalm could be made by placing gasoline in a 400-degree oven for 20 minutes. His mother got a new kitchen out of that escapade and my friend escaped with his life – barely.
Boys play with fire, and I’ll leave it to the Freudians to explain why. One boy chose an unfortunate place to play with fire, and today he’s in custody, not allowed to visit with his siblings and wondering what comes next.
My conversation with his sister was revealing. The young man is an outstanding student, one who was making plans for college before his life took its recent wrong turn. He was active in campus organizations and athletics. He lives with a loving family that’s instilled sound values. He works hard. He’s honest. “He’s a good kid,” his sister kept saying, as if that could erase the pain she felt.
As Christmas approaches, and I look at our own children, I consider my own considerable blessings from a new perspective. I appreciate them a little more deeply.
And all week, I’ve been wondering about how justice is best served. When I completed high school, I left for university with a plan to become a lawyer, just like my dad. I had begun playing the trumpet when I was in fourth grade because my dad did. I was a grown man before I finally understood that Dad would love me, even when I did not try to be just like him.
And I’ve realized that the burden of administering justice is one I would not wish to shoulder.
The young man in juvenile hall is waiting to be tried as an adult. That means that he is eligible for up to eight years of prison time.
What’s just?
Is society best served by locking a young man with a bright future up until he’s well past his 20th birthday?
Or is it smarter to recognize that he knows he did a bad thing, and to recognize that he’s never likely to repeat that moment of indiscretion? While what happened at Target could have been a tragedy the likes of which the community has never seen, it wasn’t. No one was injured. The damage was repaired.
Every person has within him the potential to make a difference. This young man has already manifested that potential with academic achievement and a display of honesty and character that took real courage.
Squandering that would be a genuine tragedy.
Notebook is assembled by Pinnacle publisher Mark Paxton, with occasional contributions from other staff members as noted. His e-mail address is mp*****@**********ws.com.
