I sometimes have customers in high on meth; I cannot trust them to handle a shopping basket, much less a vehicle.
...I say customers, I'm not sure what the term should be? They typically do not buy anything, with exceptions. It's never not rough- I have one guy who is a regular. He comes in, he buys his magazine, he rambles, he leaves. I know he's on meth and I also know where his tent is, and I have found his court paperwork before for aggravated assault charges. He has a sister, according to the paper, and I wonder about her a lot- does she miss him, does she hate him, does she knew where he is. He's never been aggressive with me, although he makes me nervous, and in his delusional rambles he talks often about wanting to protect my shop from.... something. If he was suddenly on the news for something like this, I would both wonder how and why, and I would also... know exactly WHY. The meth really does just disconnect you from reality.
Mostly it just makes me sad; I have no idea the type of person he would be without it. Even in his delusions he seems to have kindness for me and mine, but I also know he's been violent before. And it's getting cold out- I drive past his tent on the way home, and I wonder about the options he has to get clean and sober (not many, I'd imagine.)
None of it matters for Darrell Brooks. Whoever he was before, he lost the right to sympathy a long time ago. But somehow it would almost be better if he were sober, if he were acting out of hate- there is rationality, however warped and horrible, to someone who acts out of a disregard for race, religion, or class. We can raise our children beyond that, we can share joy and friendship and compassion with our neighbors to do our part to help combat hatred. But what do you do when the mind is poisoned by substance? When the cracks are big enough to let people slip through? When the only cure for the coldness is further abuse?
/jmo and i got a little carried away, whoops.