While you’re dying, someone across the temporal highway is checking out golden leaves

I was a little shocked to read this earlier.

A California man has been sentenced to life behind bars for the execution-style killing of a Los Angeles County sheriff’s sergeant.

Trenton Trevon Lovell was out on parole when he encountered Sgt. Steve Owen, who was shot five times on Oct. 5, 2016. The veteran officer was responding to reports of a burglary in progress at a Lancaster apartment building, in the Antelope Valley north of Los Angeles, when the fatal confrontation unfolded.

I wasn’t shocked that a police officer was shot. That happens all the time, a sad fact that doesn’t seize our collective media-frenzied attention to the same degree that the killing of delinquent thugs by police seems to receive.

I wasn’t shocked by the fact a police killer didn’t get the electric chair; this is California, a place where a greater transgression than killing a cop is insulting any of the culturally sanctioned and protected Victim Class.

No, I was shocked because Owen’s killing was a pretty big deal here but I had no recollection of it. The murder was pretty striking even though SoCal is a heavily populated region where all sorts of bad stuff happens and even the most violent acts are quickly subsumed into the grand urban narrative so that in the matter of days it’s as if they didn’t happen.

The cold-blooded murder of this officer would have lodged in my memory.  I would have remembered something as noteworthy.

Officer Owen, a 29-year veteran of the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department, responded to a burglary in progress call on October 5, 2016, when he crossed paths with a wild animal posing as a human, Trenton Trevon Lovell. I suspect that could, might, would, be construed as racist by the Woketariat, but it’s not: I’m simply describing Lovell’s homicidal menace.

Wild animal in human clothing

[Owen] was the first of two deputies arriving at the scene.

Owen was shot in the face when he confronted the suspect, who then tried to steal the sergeant’s patrol vehicle. At that point, a second deputy shot the suspect.

“The suspect entered the sergeant’s vehicle and attempted to commandeer it,” said Capt. Steven Katz. “The deputy fearing for himself, engaged the suspect in gunfire. The suspect placed that car into reverse and rammed the second radio car at the location.”

The tragic chain of events on that October 5 culminated with a somber procession as Owen’s body was transported from the hospital to the Coroner’s office.

He was rushed to a local hospital following the shooting, but Owen – who had been with the department for 29 years – was pronounced dead a short time later.

Wednesday night, hundreds of people gathered along a procession route to honor Owen.

Firefighters and law enforcement officials could be seen saluting Owen and waving an American flag from an overpass as the procession passed beneath.

Owen’s body arrived at the coroner’s office about 11 p.m., where dozens of patrol cars with lights flashing lined the street.

A grieving crowd, many seen hugging and consoling each other, gathered by the truck and waited as Owen’s casket was taken inside.

So all that happened and I remembered nothing of it.

I tried to recall that period of time almost 5 years ago. October 5. About a month before Donald Trump was elected President. Autumn, 2016…and yes. I remembered with great relief where I was at the time (memory lapses are scary when you’re my age) Sgt. Owen was gunned down.

I was in New England, visiting for the Fall foliage (which wasn’t so great that year). Unable to let it go, I was driven to discover where I was in the moments of his shooting. According to this story, it happened about 12:30pm, PDT, meaning I would need to dig up where I was at 3:30 that afternoon, EDT.

Fortunately I’m a bit of a geek this way and I found a computer folder I called “New England Day 4 Oct 5” and all it took was some clicking around before I found it.  There it was: footage from my dash cam capturing a few dim late afternoon moments in Woodstock, Vermont, enjoying a blissful moment in my life while across the country, someone was losing his.

Life is thus.

Tragedy coexists with serenity across the quantum parallels of spacetime.

Woodstock, Vermont (Oct 5, 2016)

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