Leon Uris - A God In Ruins

Governor Quinn Patrick O’Connell walked to the rostrum in a crammed ballroom at the Millard Fillmore Hotel. A blast of TV lights blared while still photographers ate up film.

“Hi,” Quinn said when it quieted. “I’m Quinn O’Connell, governor of Colorado. Any national recognition I may have is pretty much based on my penchant for gun control. There is a long list of serious issues on the American agenda, and if my candidacy continues on, I will issue my position within days.

Greer laid her head on Mal’s shoulder and she cried a little.

“But we’re here today because much of America’s bright hope lies silent in the box end of Six Shooter Canyon. It could have been avoided by the political will of the people, and it will happen again without the political will of the people to change it.

“I stand before you, not as a saint running for sainthood or as a sinner dodging hell. I intend to live my private life privately, and I intend to bring back a great measure of dignity and authority that has been missing from the presidency for almost a decade.”

Quinn became silent, and the room suddenly fell under his spell. He opened a small book on the rostrum.

“”Article .. .”” he read, “’.. . A well-regulated Militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.””

A murmur of disbelief buzzed about the room.

“When the Second Amendment of the Bill of Rights came into being, our new nation had no standing army to contend with hostile neighbors, England, France, Canada, Spain. We also were fighting many Indian nations, and part of the population was still loyal to the king. Therefore! Each colony, each new state set up their own militia. These militias were not very good.

“Now look at this Second Amendment. It has nothing to do with the rights of the citizens to own guns, but the formation of well-regulated militias.”

Quinn was parched, but he feared his hand would tremble if he held a water glass. To hell! He took a swig, steady as a rock.

“If anything in the entire American panorama has been distorted and convoluted, it is the Second Amendment. The militias failed. After the Civil War many state units were converted into a national guard. A well-regulated national guard, as required by the Constitution, with their weapons under government control.

“For far too long, men of questionable intent have hidden behind the skirts of the Second Amendment, claiming it as their divine commandment to own guns.

“Bull! Because of federal inaction on gun control, many towns and cities and counties and states, including Colorado, have legislated their own gun-control laws. But the gun lobby is powerful. One gun comes off the assembly line every seven seconds and during that same seven seconds another gun is imported into the country.

“I intend to cut to the chase!” Quinn belted out, “because most of the court cases in the states and towns could be eliminated with the passage of a single national bill. The right of gun ownership is not and has never been a constitutional guarantee, and in order to get it right and get it clear .. . the Second Amendment of the Constitution must be repealed.”

WASHINGTON, FEBRUARY 2008

If tears had been stars, there would have been enough shed to double the size of the universe. The nation passed to the new year with darkness at noon, in a fetal position. No ball had dropped from Times Square; half the bowl games were rescheduled or canceled. Only the Super Bowl went on bravely, bravely. There was just too much money involved. The stock market plummeted, and soon finger pointing began in earnest. Panel shows of experts begat panel shows of experts.

The Four Corners Massacre was a unique event in American history. No one really knew who to turn to, but Thornton Tomtree was there and made a strong case of distancing himself from Congress. He began to take delight in his new mode of compassion.

After the Superbowl, T3 had emerged as the “tall” man, the shepherd, the big father.

Then came the dispiriting initial findings of the investigation.

All evidence on the ground in the vicinity of Six Shooter Canyon and the White Wolf Ranch had been obliterated. The perpetrators had all been killed in the blasts.

The FBI hunted down White Wolf Patriots who were not present in order

to fashion a line of events. The more the FBI pieced the story of Wreck Hudson together, the more it fell in the realm of fantasy. The existing White Wolf patriots faded into an underground run by the White Aryan Christian Arrival.

As for resolving the fate of Six Shooter Canyon, there was a terrible rub.

In the deepest pit of his life, President Thornton Tomtree moaned over the recommendation on his desk. The investigation commission, which included the breadth of the society from engineering genius to religious leaders, had made a rapid first finding, and it made its way to the Oval Office by late February of 2008. The President had no choice but to take it to the American people.

“My fellow Americans. The report which I am about to render to you was previously communicated to the families of the Four Corners Massacre. The commission has now come to an initial recommendation .. . please bear with me ... I must conjure up some horrible images.

“We cannot get earth moving equipment into this narrow stretch of canyon. The alternative would be to dynamite the walls to widen access. After that, we would be embarking on an earth moving project the size of several Hoover Dams, which would take years to complete.

“Test bores indicate that the victims were crushed by the initial avalanche and then buried under ten to twenty feet of rock. Another forty to ninety feet of rock came down atop them.

“The test bores also tell us we will probably not retrieve sufficient remains for individual burials. The forensics experts and the DNA experts feel that no one is truly going to be identified, as the remains are so interlocked and pulverized.

“If an excavation was ordered, we would remain in the grip of this tragedy for many years. In the end, it would be a futile gesture. The survival of our nation depends upon overcoming our national grief. Therefore, I have asked the Republican and Democratic leadership for a bipartisan bill to seal the canyon and erect a suitable memorial.”

“Some promising news, Mr. President. Three-fourths of the families are in agreement, right from the get-go. On your telecast sixty-two percent of the editorials in the hundred thousand circulation class think that the closure and monument are right on ... only eight percent think we ought to remove the canyon .. . On your message, seventy-two percent of the CNN/TIME/CBSNew York Times/ USA Today polls said we should get on with the life of the nation .. . CBS New York Times has a seven percent of ‘don’t know’ ... If this sampling holds, we’re through the worst of it!”

Thornton Tomtree felt blood circulating through his body again.

“And, sir, a little cream on the pudding. The Iowa Republican caucus wants you to run for reelection by over seventy-three percent.”

“Who took the Democratic caucus:1” the President asked.

“That yahoo, the Colorado Kid .. .”

“Quinn Patrick O’Connell?”

“Yes, sir.”

Would/could the American people ever trust another politician, even if they knew of his warts in advance? They gathered about Thornton Tomtree. At that moment T3 was all that was left. He was super calm, and much in control.