P
Pulitzer Wannabe
Guest
For the most part, David Vann's story on Northern Illinois University shooter Steven Kazmierczak is a brilliant combination of investigative and narrative journalism. But I'm troubled by portions of the lede, which seem to describe, in detail, what went in in Kazmierczak's room as he prepared to gun down his fellow students.
Some excerpts:
"He sits on the end of his bed in a broken-down Travelodge. Smokes a Newport. ... Across his lap, a Remington 12-gauge shotgun, the barrel sawed off. His hands on it, one on the stock, one on the barrel. He can't sit still, though. Always fidgeting."
"He picks up the Glock, checks the clip. Makes sure it's full. Checks it again. Checks it again. Threes have always spoken to him, shown him what to do. Three pistols. Three shells in the shotgun."
"Sets the pistol down. Picks up the next, and the next, checks each clip three times. Checks the extra clips. A bullet is so small, so heavy for its size. Turns his right forearm up a bit, pushes up the sleeve, looks at his tattoo again. A $700 reminder in black and red."
"Checks himself in the mirror, walks to the door, then has to go back to check again, just to make sure. Always checking."
I don't understand how he can know any of this, considering Kazmierczak was alone and didn't talk to another human being before turning the gun on himself.
Some excerpts:
"He sits on the end of his bed in a broken-down Travelodge. Smokes a Newport. ... Across his lap, a Remington 12-gauge shotgun, the barrel sawed off. His hands on it, one on the stock, one on the barrel. He can't sit still, though. Always fidgeting."
"He picks up the Glock, checks the clip. Makes sure it's full. Checks it again. Checks it again. Threes have always spoken to him, shown him what to do. Three pistols. Three shells in the shotgun."
"Sets the pistol down. Picks up the next, and the next, checks each clip three times. Checks the extra clips. A bullet is so small, so heavy for its size. Turns his right forearm up a bit, pushes up the sleeve, looks at his tattoo again. A $700 reminder in black and red."
"Checks himself in the mirror, walks to the door, then has to go back to check again, just to make sure. Always checking."
I don't understand how he can know any of this, considering Kazmierczak was alone and didn't talk to another human being before turning the gun on himself.