In Peter Lanza’s new house, on a secluded private road in Fairfield County, Connecticut, is an attic room overflowing with shipping crates of what he calls “the stuff.” Since the day in December, 2012, when his son Adam killed his own mother, himself, and twenty-six people at Sandy Hook Elementary School, strangers from across the world have sent thousands upon thousands of letters and other keepsakes: prayer shawls, Bibles, Teddy bears, homemade toys; stories with titles such as “My First Christmas in Heaven”; crosses, including one made by prison inmates. People sent candy, too, and when I visited Peter, last fall, he showed me a bag of year-old caramels. He had not wanted to throw away anything that people sent. But he said, “I was wary about eating anything,” and he didn’t let Shelley Lanza—his second wife—eat any of the candy, either. There was no way to be sure it wasn’t poisoned.
I can’t even begin to grasp the depth and breadth of the private Hell Peter Lanza inhabits. Imagine trying to live with the knowledge that your son- someone who came into this world to joy and anticipation of wonderful things to come- walked into Sandy Hook elementary school and killed 26 people. Twenty young children and six adults died at the hands of Adam Lanza…after he had murdered his mother in the home they shared. There’s no explanation, no way of rationally understanding how something so monstrous and evil could be visited upon innocent children, teachers, and administrators. Peter Lanza certainly isn’t responsible for his son’s murderous rampage, but having had a part in bringing him into the world, how could he not feel at least partially culpable? He knows that if he hadn’t fathered Adam, 26 people would still be alive and Sandy Hook would be just another anonymous elementary school in Connecticut.
How could any of us have any idea of the guilt and shame Peter Lanza carries with him on a daily basis? Knowing that he helped bring a monster into the world, a son who would grow up to be responsible for one of the most horrific mass shootings in American history? How do you live with that? And how do those who lost loved ones feel about him? I suspect those grieving a murdered loved one understand that Peter Lanza isn’t directly responsible for his son being consumed by evil. He didn’t pull the trigger, he didn’t kill their son, daughter, wife, or sister, but he helped to bring Adam Lanza the monster to life…and if not for that their loved one would still be with them.
To his credit, Peter Lanza has met with two families who lost loved ones at Sandy Hook. That takes courage, the kind of which few will ever understand. How do you apologize for a heinous crime you didn’t commit? How do you find it within yourself to face a family missing a loved one as a direct result of your progeny’s horrific act? As Adam’s father, how could Peter Lanza not feel guilty for fathering someone who was consumed by evil? He’s says he understands his son was evil and that he wishes Adam was never born. Imagine the pain Peter Lanza feels in saying his wishes his son had never been born? None of this makes him responsible for his son’s murderous rampage, but he knows that but for fathering Adam, 26 people would still be alive today. Few, if any, of us can possibly know what that feels like.
Peter Lanza’s son was a monster. He recognized that there was something terribly wrong with Adam, but who can foresee their offspring becoming a mass murderer? Especially since Adam had cut his father off; Peter Lanza says he hadn’t seen his son in two years prior to Sandy Hook. There’s nothing Peter Lanza could have done to prevent the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School. I imagine most people understand that and don’t hold him personally responsible. In fact, it appears that Peter Lanza has been the beneficiary of overwhelming compassion and support…none of which could possibly remove the stain of sharing the DNA of a mass murderer.
Before writing about someone, I normally try to walk a mile in that person’s shoes. That’s simply not possible with Peter Lanza. None of us could possibly understand the pain and anguish he feels every day. We should all pray to whatever deity we worship that we never will.
