Adam and Peter Lanza on a hike when Adam was about ten. As a child, Peter says, Adam was just a normal little weird kid. The father said that he wished his son had never been born. (THE NEW YORKER)
The Father of the Sandy Hook Killer Searches for Answers
Adam Lanza was ‘evil’ and would have killed me ‘in a heartbeat,’ says his dad, and wishes his psycho mass murderer son had never been born.
In an interview, Peter Lanza dubbed his gun-crazy boy “evil” for killing his mother, 20 children, six staff and then himself at Sandy Hook Elementary School, Connecticut, on Dec. 14, 2012.
“You can’t get any more evil,”
Describing his youngest son as “socially awkward,” Lanza believed his child — diagnosed with Asperger’s — was in fact an undiagnosed schizophrenic.
“Asperger’s makes people unusual, but it doesn’t make people like this”
Doubting that the official diagnosis was the cause of the murder spree, Lanza said it was “a mask that veiled a contaminant” and allowed him to act bizarrely without question.
Lanza broke his silence, because he thought his story might help.
He said he finally thought his story was an important part of the puzzle, and that he had a moral obligation to tell it.
He also said he had to recognize how his son had grown up and changed.
In Peter Lanza’s new house, on a secluded private road in Fairfield County, Connecticut, is an attic room overflowing with shipping crates of what he calls “the stuff.” Since the day in December, 2012, when his son Adam killed his own mother, himself, and twenty-six people at Sandy Hook Elementary School, strangers from across the world have sent thousands upon thousands of letters and other keepsakes: prayer shawls, Bibles, Teddy bears, homemade toys; stories with titles such as “My First Christmas in Heaven”; crosses, including one made by prison inmates.
People sent candy, too, and when I visited Peter, last fall, he showed me a bag of year-old caramels. He had not wanted to throw away anything that people sent. But he said, “I was wary about eating anything,” and he didn’t let Shelley Lanza—his second wife—eat any of the candy, either. There was no way to be sure it wasn’t poisoned. Downstairs, in Peter’s home office, I spotted a box of family photographs. He used to display them, he told me, but now he couldn’t look at Adam, and it seemed strange to put up photos of his older son, Ryan, without Adam’s. “I’m not dealing with it,” he said.
Later, he added, “You can’t mourn for the little boy he once was. You can’t fool yourself.”
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