This is my latest for Real Clear Life, published last Wednesday. It’s about the Waffle House Shooting in Antioch, Tennessee. It took place just a mile from where I grew up, in the area where I built my sense of place and home. This is kind of personal, but also about the aftermath of something terrible, and what it feels like to be close to it, yet far away.
I grew up about a mile from the location of the Waffle House where Travis Reinking opened fire Saturday night, killing four. Naturally, I’ve paid extremely close attention to the hunt for Reinking. He was captured today by Metro Nashville Police. He was roaming in a semi-rural area a mile or two from the Waffle House. I’ll be writing more about this crime for Real Clear Life Wednesday, but had to say it’s been surreal hearing the name of the community where I lived from birth through age 19 mentioned so often on the news. When I was a kid, Antioch, Tennessee was Nashville’s forgotten outer rim. No one outside the city knew it was there, and Nashvillians, by and large, viewed it as a dangerous, redneck-filled no-go zone. It was where Nashville ended and the countryside began. Right now it’s home to a tragedy with a national profile. It’s very strange, and truly awful.