Can anyone possibly think of a more horrible news story than the one this week in which the crazed gunman entered an Amish school house this week and murdered innocent children? After more than three decades on the job, I consider myself a fairly jaded newsman, yet this story was hard for me to follow. Reading the stories was painful.

The Amish shootings actually plunged me into a funk for a day, and, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out how reporters would ever be able to cover this story. The Amish are peaceful people who prefer to think of God first, neighbors second, and themselves a distant third. They don't like having their picture taken because they consider it an act of vanity. In that vein, I couldn't see how a reporter would be able to get anyone to talk.

Yet, some Amish people from the village where the murders took place are talking. But, typically, it's not for their own self importance. No, they are trying to send a message of peace. One family that lost a daughter and sister even sent word to the shooter's family that they thought it might be helpful if members of that family joined their own family at the funeral, so they could mourn together.

When I read that, I felt a shiver run up and down my spine. Can you imagine the faith of those people? Can you imagine acting in a similar way if you ever found yourself in the same awful position? I know I couldn't, yet I believe the offer was real and heartfelt.

We have a lot of Amish people in this region, and many of us have purchased Amish-made goods over the years. The shed in my backyard was built and delivered by an elderly Amish gentleman, and I've watched young Amish carpenters build new homes near E. 23rd and Holland Streets. I've written stories over the years about Amish women who've crafted magnificent quilts.

I also covered a story more than two decades ago when a large group of Amish folks from all over the region came together and, in little more than a day, rebuilt an entire tiny town that had been leveled by a deadly tornado. Lives were lost and homes destroyed, but I remember being so uplifted by the spirit and faith of these people. You felt a sense of acceptance and a spirit of hope that everything would eventually turn out OK.

I'd forgotten this until I read about this week's overture for peace and forgiveness. Incredibly, the Amish seem to have turned a story of horror into one of hope. God bless them.

-- Kevin Cuneo