America transformed by mass shootings

Chicago Pardeep Singh Kaleka has surveyed the landscape of an America scarred by mass shootings. Seven years ago, a white supremacist invaded a Sikh temple in Wisconsin and killed six worshippers - among them Kaleka’s father, who died clutching a butter knife he’d grabbed in a desperate attempt to stop the shooter. Now, whenever another gunman bloodies another town, Kaleka posts a supportive message on social media. Then later, either by invitation or on his own initiative, he’ll journey to the community to shore up others who share his pain. He’s been to Newtown, Conn. Charleston, S.C. Pittsburgh. “We’ve become kind of a family,” Kaleka says. It’s true. The unending litany of mass shootings in recent years - the latest, on Friday, leaving 12 dead in Virginia Beach, Va. - has built an unacknowledged community of heartbreak, touching and warping the lives of untold thousands. All the survivors, none of them unscathed. The loved ones of the living and dead. Their neighbors, relatives and colleagues. The first responders, the health care workers, the elected officials. The attacks have changed how America talks, prays and prepares for trouble. Today, the phrases “active shooter” and “shelter in place” need no explanation. A house of worship will have a priest, a rabbi or an imam - and maybe, an armed guard. And more schools are holding “lockdown drills” to prepare students for the possibility of a shooter. Post-traumatic stress disorder was once largely associated with combat-weary veterans; now some police and firefighters tormented by the memories of the carnage they’ve witnessed are seeking professional help. Healing centers have opened to offer survivors therapy and a place to gather. Support groups of survivors of mass shootings have formed. Mayors,...