I knew Clint Lamebear for about two years. We worked together, graduated together, and eventually ended up becoming good friends. Clint always had so much to talk about. He constantly made plans, always optimistic, looking forward to tomorrow. We talked to each other everyday this past summer and continued to keep in touch throughout the first quarter of my freshman year at the University of Arizona. November 15th, 2002 was the last time I spoke to him. He had just arrived in Germany, where he was to spend the next eight months training for the army. However, four days later, Clint was killed, leaving many heartbroken, confused, and angry. An evaluation of Clint's death unveils a repetitive American solution to dealing with murder.
             When a murder takes place in America, much more attention is given to the murderer than to the victim. We contemplate over every aspect of the killers, while often categorizing the victims into a broad, common group. Bundy murdered college-age women with long brown hair, Dahmer went after young, homosexual men, while Pedro Lopez murdered underprivileged, little girls. We take away the identity of the victims and replace it with a couple fundamental facts that we found most important: they were women in college; they were men who were homosexual; they were girls who were underprivileged. With Clint, his murders were the focus of the newspaper articles while Clint remained a victim, a reason why the killers were in the paper. "Two U.S. soldiers have been charged in the beating to death of a New Mexico private whose body was found in a garage in Frankfurt, Germany." (KRQE News 13) To everyone who knew Clint, the headlines seemed so cold and insensitive. Clint was described as nothing more than a lifeless body.
             An army courier visited Kristen June Lamebear on Sunday, November 16th to inform her about the death of her son. He told her that he was sorry, that no other details wer...