Chris Northcliffe was sometimes a little goofy. If you are looking for a list of his sins, that's it. The sum total. He was a big softy with a huge heart and a goofy sense of humor.
And today, he was gunned down for committing the crime of walking down the wrong street at the wrong time.
I have ranted and raved on more occasions than I can count about the stupidity of allowing people who ought to be hospitalized for the condition of their mental health to instead not only stay on the streets, but purchase handguns. But it has never, until today, been so personal.
A good man, who loved his wife and children as much as I love my wife and children, was taken from us. For no reason at all. He grew up on the street where I now live, and has stood in my kitchen, gushing (over a homebrew) about this, that or the other great ecological improvement he wanted to make to his rental properties, or the history of where we live, or the "radicalization of College Station" including such things as giving a damn about our neighbors... he was funny, creative, caring, bright, thoughtful, helpful, and a whole slew of other wonderful things.
And now he's gone.