If the coming decades prove brighter for our descendants than the decades in which we have lived till now, then these pages may only be useful as amusements.
But if what appears dark and waiting in the fog over that hill does indeed come this way, then I don’t really think they will want to read about why what has happened is undesirable. They’ll be able to see that much for themselves. They’ll feel it, suffer under it, be molded by it, hopefully toward the brighter valley over the next hill. Hopefully not at the expense of their goodness, or their heroism, or their souls.
But perhaps they will be curious about why it happened as it did. How did one thing lead to the next, and why did we let it keep going?
Perhaps I would tell them that the political will was not there to prevent it. Perhaps I would tell them that we just didn’t know at each point where and when the next shoe would drop. That we were ignorant, but we tried our best. Perhaps I would tell them, as I feel right now, that all that was left to do by the time I saw it coming was to chronicle what happened.
Chronicling, perhaps only for my own good or because that’s all I was good for. But in hopes that they may know that I was at least trying to see.
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