You decide:

In a mid-sized town, somewhere in America there lived a family. The youngest boy was named Butch. The family was a troubled one – Dad had been in an out of work due to a combination of alcohol and a lack of transferrable skills. After his factory closed, there were simply no jobs for men in his shows. As of late, he had fallen into a deep depression and spent most of his days ranting talking about how “the system is stacked against the working man” to whomever would listen. He and his wife had been divorced for a few years now, but he would visit from time to time.

Butch’s mother was always angry too. She was the prototypical Karen type – haircut and all. She got by on her ability to bully, cajole, or shame people into letting her get her way. She was also very well versed in collecting public assistance of various sorts. Her latest travail was convincing the local Section 8 Housing people that her house, which she inherited from her father, was in fact not hers, but her family’s, so she still needed to pay rent. The application was pending last anyone checked. Ms. Butch's mom was also a strong intendent single mother - and proud of it.

Butch had three older brothers. The eldest was broody and quiet mostly. He would ignore the younger three – if they did something he of which he did not approve, he would give them a beat down. Not like a street fight, punch in the face and draw blood sort of ass-kicking. He just made sure to leave a bruise on an arm or leg to make sure the lesson stuck for a few days. His approach worked well.

Butch, being the youngest, escaped most of the “lessons” since the older one tended to protect him from the middle two. The dynamics of four boys was more complicated than most folks would understand. This would sound like a good thing. At least one of the boys would be spared this cycle of “lessons” and “discipline”. But it had a somewhat unexpected effect. It made Butch a little tyrant out in town. He could do and say just about anything and even adults would give him wide berth. After all, his mom was THE Karen about town, and the boys were, let’s just say, loyal to their family.

Since he had not yet hit puberty, he was still relatively tame. He was a huge risk taker and was actually quite charismatic, despite his rough edges. But one thing he had in his corner was intelligence. Not worldly knowledge, or wisdom, but when he spoke about something he usually had his facts straight. This was unusual for kids his age, so he looked pretty smart to most kids. He could never back up his arguments, nor did he ever consider the fact that there might be legitimate alternate views (after all, he was just a kid) but most kids listened when he spoke, which gave him a pretty good amount of influence with his peers.

For the past two years during the summer months, Butch had been roaming around town with his small band of friends on weekends looking for things to do. By the end of last summer his crew had grown quite large. They were not always in one place at the same time, but about a third of the town’s kids considered them a member of the “Butch Bunch”. They despised this term, but they embraced it when Old Man Smith called them that after he caught a few picking apples from the tree in his yard. “Get the HHHHHell out of here you punks! And don’t come back here you… B B Butch Bunch.” He was struggling for words while trying to avoid using expletives, which made the moniker absolutely hilarious. So it stuck.

In late June of last summer, a buzz was in the air. One of Butch’s brothers picked up a carload of fireworks from another state in which they were legal. He gave a few boxes to each brother and made them promise to pay for them. They could charge whatever they wanted, but he wanted to be paid back at least what he paid. Within a week he was quickly reimbursed and even made a small profit with his own stash with plenty of fireworks to spare. Butch easily did the same with the Bunch. After all, what kid did not like to play with fireworks?

Mom knew what was happening. She watched as Butch left the house with an armful of explosives, and all she could muster was “Be careful with those kid, you’ll blow your eye out”

The neighbor lady watched on in disgust. She was one of those stuffy patriotic old people who hated fun, so suffice it to say, Butch was not a fan. His mom often claimed that she was judgmental, despite her never really saying much. "you can tell just by looking at her" mom would say.

As evening closed in, as summer evenings do. The smell of wet earth and honeysuckle filled the cooling air (or was it Jasmine – it was hard to tell). In the center of town was the local park. From above, it looked like the hub of a wheel with all streets leading to it. Back when the town was founded, it was thought by the Urban Planners that having a central location like this would encourage neighbors to mingle on evenings such as this and get to know each other. Also being at the very center of town gave it that “heart of town” sort of vibe. It also made for a safe location, as opposed to other parks that were out of the way and a bit darker.

Despite the initial intentions, it was mostly a working class park, mixed with younger Professionals. People did not know what the word “gentrification” meant, but small waves of recent college grads found the town to be charming and affordable. They also agreed with the working class folks there.Things needed to change, and the system was indeed stacked against the poor folks – just like their professors had taught them. This place was living proof.

On this particular evening, there was a larger than usual showing of the Butch Bunch. Fireworks time was here and it was going to be awesome. As the kids were setting up and discussing how to get this done, a few older people walked by and almost all of them warned the kids.

“Please children, be careful” one older man said. He was met with mumbles that sounded like “sure old man, go back to yer porn stash” or some other crude remark. It was hard to make it out from all the grumbling. The boys chuckled as the man continued to shuffle his way home.

One of the local moms from a block away knew most of the kids. As she walked by she said hello and some of the kids repeated the greeting. “What are you boys up to?”

“Nothing. Just chilling” Butch replied. The woman could clearly see the fireworks. “Boys, you should not be playing with fireworks…” They knew this was coming, so they pretended to listen. This lady was pretty cool, so they did not want to be mean to her. “…you could lose a finger. ”The boys said nothing; Butch just gave a thumbs up as fished around his pocket for a lighter. “Where the hell did I put that thing...”

Within the hour, it seemed that half the town knew that loud noises were coming. Some even resorted to taking their dogs for a long car ride out of town. They figured it would last about an hour or so. This was common around the 4^th of July, so there was no escaping it. It always seemed to start early around this town for some reason.

As predicted, someone called the police. The boys expected as much, so earlier they decided that they would hide the stash on the far side of the park in the bushes. One kid would stand watch just in case. The rest would get one batch of fireworks, set it off, and then quietly disperse. Each made sure to not leave any evidence. If no police came, they would go for round 2 and so on.

As it turned out, by round 5, a police car turned the corner. Due to the layout of the park, one could easily see in 360 degrees, so any approaching car was immediately visible and identifiable. As planned the kids dispersed.

Officer Mann approached Butch, who was sitting on a seesaw with a few of the Bunch. “What’s going on fellas” he exclaimed. Usually this was a question, but when Mann asked questions, they usually sounded like a statement of fact. “Nothing much Officer Mann. We’re just chillin” offered Butch.

“Chillin. Hmm. I am going to guess that none of you saw who set off the fireworks then.” Again, a questions in the form of a declaration. “No sir. We saw the fireworks, they were awesome. But we were sitting here. All we saw were the fireworks, so whoever did it must have run” offered Butch. “Riiight. Alright men, you know my job is to make sure people don’t get hurt if I can, and you also know that fireworks are dangerous. I also bet that you have been warned about this repeatedly, right? (Again, with the question-statement) So if something goes wrong and I have to come back with EMS – you know, the ambulance, you will have only yourselves to blame. Tell me you understand what I just said”

“Yessir” they all promised. “I will be back in an hour and you will not be here when I get back, tell me you understand what I just said”

They offered the obligatory “Yessir”

As Officer Mann walked away, they all agreed; Mann was a pain in the ass, but he was pretty badass. He had a cool tattoo in script on his arm that said “Semper Fi’ right next to a long scar. Also, he would lecture them from time to time, but he did his best to leave people be. Butch thought that one day he too may join the Army and then become a cop like Mann. How did he get that scar? He wondered. And what did those Greek words mean?

The boys were down to their last box of blockbusters and about two dozen heavy duty bottle rockets. Some folks called them M80’s, while others argued that they were two different things. Since the package said “Military Grade Fun” the boys didn’t care. These things were going to make some BOOM happen. "Shits Gonna Get Lit" was the motto of the day.

For some reason, a few of the townsfolk gathered around to see the show. Nothing bad had happened yet, and besides, the boys seemed to have a pretty good system- light, run, hide, enjoy. It seemed safe and methodical to them! All in all there were about 20-25 folks in the area, including spectators. It was getting a bit late, but the timing was just about right – the older folks and babies were all just about hitting the hay.

Butch stepped up as if he were the mayor. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Military Grade BIG BOOM extravaganza!” The boys all laughed, and some of the adults even clapped. The kid was entertaining if nothing else.

Butch grabbed the first M80 in the package. He smartly stepped away from the stash and told everyone to step back. As he lit the M80 the fuse flashed way too quickly – it was almost instantaneous. Pure reflexes took over and he tossed it wildly.

The M80 rolled right over to the stash and the whole thing began to go off.

Officer Mann got the first call from a frantic woman on her cellphone. Shortly thereafter about 6 calls came in quick succession. He called the local EMS squad and he and his partner raced to the scene. Upon arrival, the place looked like a terrorist attack. In fact, that was his first instinct and he could not help but look around. In Iraq, folks would set off an explosion, and when the marines came in to help or assess the situation, a secondary explosion would take out the response team. “You are home Mann, relax” he had to tell himself. He had to do this quite often since his separation from active duty.

It took about 90 minutes to clear the scene. Everyone corroborated the story. It was a freak accident and Butch was not to blame. Nonetheless, Mann scooped up three of the boys, along with Butch and delivered them to their parents. “We will contact you on Monday about potential charges”

“CHARGES! Are you INSANE! He is just a freaking KID! What’s wrong with you!” Butch’s mom screamed. She hated police. They were always in the area, and it made her feel like a criminal. They were always just cruising around “trying to catch one of us poor white trash with our pants down” she would often say. She despised all cops with a passion.

The following day, the newspaper contained the following article:

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: Pre July 4^th Celebration Leads to Injuries.

APA NEWS WIRE LOCAL. June 32^nd.

A small gathering of locals in town center last evening became a blood bath after a freak accident involving defective fireworks. Approximately twenty two spectators were witness to the event that some described as a “massacre”. A local boy, whose name was not divulged due to his age, was innocently setting off a firework when the explosive device misfired and led to a cascade of secondary explosions involving a nearby box of firecrackers.

The Officer on the Scene, Officer Mann, had no comment. But others expressed deep concerns about the incident. One woman, who refused to be identified exclaimed “Where are the police in this? They were earlier and just let these kids go. He should have stopped this and he didn’t He should be fired if you ask me. The police in this town do absolutely nothing for the community”

Others express concern over the quality of the fireworks, which police have identified as being made in China. “All this cheap Chinese crap is the real problem here.” Complained another local man who witnessed the scene. “Back in my day, we had sex, drugs, and rock and roll – and freedom. But our last so called ‘president’ allowed his Chinese friends to tell these dangerous assault explosives to children. I hope his supporters are happy.”

The local hospital admitted half a dozen people for injuries that ranged from missing fingers to mild facial burns. The worst injury involved a young boy who lost sight in his right eye from a bottle rocket that went off in the secondary explosion nearby.

At a press conference, the local District Attorney took aim at Federal Law Enforcement. “This is the third time this year in this state alone in which fireworks have injured children. If border control would stop its racist policies of apprehending innocent people seeking a better life, and paid closer attention to the dangerous goods crossing our border, we might be able to avoid scenes like the one we saw here tonight. Our best wishes go out to the injured and their families. We have set up a counseling tent to help those emotionally traumatized by this horrible accident.”

There was no word as to how the children obtained the fireworks. “Details are still emerging and the investigation is ongoing, so I can offer no further comments.” said the DA when questioned by a reporter.

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In the following days and weeks, the incident was all people could talk about. The town seemed to be divided into three camps. The first did not have any comment. They had their lives and did not pay much attention to local affairs. The second camp was planning a protest outside the Mayor’s office. They wanted justice for the faulty fireworks and the botched response of law enforcement.

The third camp all shared about the same perspective. It was best summed up in a post that got the largest number of comments any of them had seen over a local matter.

What happened was tragic. But where were these kids’ parents? There is a whole chain of events that preceded this tragedy, but all people can do is spin and lay the blame on law enforcement and the Chinese government. If we keep going after the symptoms and keep avoiding the root issues, we will keep seeing this over and over. I remember growing up seeing a commercial that said 'It’s 10PM, do you know where your children are?' I guess we need those again because people are just letting their kids run rampant. The parents are to blame, and any other adult that let these kids’ bad behavior slide for years now. Wake up folks.

Signed: Ms_Jones_1776

This comment led to a virtual civil war in town. In retort, the most “liked” comment said:

Uh, racism much there Ms_Jones? Just because you have a decent job and were lucky enough to have children who were born good, does not mean that we are sub-humans. Go ahead and call us “white trash” because that’s what everyone knows is on your lips.

These children are VICTIMS. Victims of a system that lets dangerous MILITARY GRADE WEAPONS get into the hands of children. The last president is directly responsible for this!

And the Police – don’t even get me started. If you leave your garbage can out for more than a few hours, you get a ticket. But save some kids life? Ha! They got no time for that, they are too busy jacking the working class for petty tickets to make money for this corrupt government.

And don’t even get me started on the Mayor. He is less than worthless.

Uneducated ignorant people like YOU are the problem "Ms. patriot". How are people like you even allowed on this site. I will be contacting the Admins about your hateful bigotry.

Signed: Butch’s mom

The Ms_Jones_1776 post was reported for “hate speech” and was promptly removed. Most people who read the post after that defended Butch’s Mom. Most agreed that a variety of biases were at the root cause of this tragedy. Those who were on the fence were afraid to speak out, in fear of being censored like Ms_Jones.

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Shortly thereafter, State Lawmakers proposed a new law that would hold neighbors liable for injuries that happened within 100 yards of their homes. One legislator stated on the house floor:

"Grown adults should not just sit idly by as young children are exploited by a broken system. This bill will give injured parties the equity they deserve when negligence like this gets out of control. The name of the Bill is "The Child Safety and Reporting Act" which includes a provision for rewards for those who can identify neighbors who witness such events in the future so they can be brought to justice"

The latest reports indicated that there was widespread support for the bill.