So, we are all in awe of Antoinette Tuff and her compassion and grace in talking down the gunman in a school outside Atlanta. He was dressed in black and carrying an AK-47 and 500 rounds of ammunition when he burst into her office, and she told him that she loved him, showed him there was hope for him, and promised to shield him with her own body when he surrendered to the police.
In accord with all great spiritual teachings, she saw herself in him.
Slate's Dahlia Lithwick, whose lovely column appeared on this page Aug. 27 ("In Georgia, a lesson in empathy"), pointed out how Ms. Tuff utterly demolished the NRA claim that "the only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun."
It would seem the better thing is a good guy or lady with a big heart who doesn't think the other guy is hopelessly bad after all. Wounded, misguided, dangerous, of course, but still a human being who will respond to empathy and love.
But I take issue with Lithwick's statement that Tuff's "stunning calm, compassion and control is something absolutely nobody else could have achieved under the circumstances."
Ten years ago, my husband and I and some good friends started a small foundation to seek out and honor (with unsolicited $1,000 awards) people who express the same heart energy that Tuff exhibited: unconditional love, drawn from their higher power, offered with no personal agenda, which enables ordinary people to do extraordinary things.
The interesting thing is that we have found such people all over — in advocacy groups and relief agencies, of course, but also in schools, shops, and neighborhoods. Sixty-five at last count.
We gave an award to a man who carries out groceries at a nearby Lunds. He happens to suffer from schizophrenia, and he also calls many customers by name and exudes love and goodwill toward everyone.