Week’s Violence Shows Pain Isn’t Isolated in Big Cities

This is the place where people were supposed to come to escape their troubles. This was the refuge from craziness in Los Angeles, the antidote for what ailed people in harsher climes, the panacea-by-the-sea for world-weary travelers.

And even though Orange County couldn’t possibly measure up to such a fantasy, how to describe the violent events of the last several days? Pick your word: Shocking. Frightening. Demoralizing.

In the last week alone, the range of family violence behind our closed suburban doors has virtually run the gamut:

* A 35-year-old man in a custody dispute allegedly suffocates his two young children, then shoots himself in the bed beside them but survives.

* A 14-year-old boy is accused of fatally shooting his mother during an argument at home.

* A 64-year-old man chases his wife down the street in their row of townhouses before cornering her in a neighbor’s home and shooting her to death. He later kills himself.

These three neighborhoods aren’t the kind where residents are accustomed to gunshots at night. They are places removed from urban violence, random shootings or our notion of the “criminal element.”

One happened in a tucked-away cluster of townhomes in Laguna Niguel. Another in a row of homes in an unincorporated area between Yorba Linda and Anaheim. Another in a pleasant-looking cul-de-sac in Yorba Linda. A visit to the three neighborhoods this week suggests nothing but peace and permanence, places removed from the threat of violence. At one of the homes, the porch light remains on and mail is in the box.

I asked a couple of suburban-based psychologists what they’re hearing from families that visit them. Where does this violence come from? Neither is familiar with the three cases, and so they agreed to speak in general terms.

“There is a sense of alienation and because we’re in Southern California where we have so much freedom, we’ve also abandoned our institutions, such as the extended families, churches and organizations,” says Elizabeth Eckhardt, who practices in Irvine. “There isn’t the opportunity to have the connections which sustain one and to which one can turn in time of pressure and family upset.”

Our technological age has geared us to the quick fix, she says, including solutions to personal problems. In addition, various social and economic factors contribute to a reduction in the time family members talk among themselves, thereby increasing the chance of repressed anger or frustrations. And then, she says, many people don’t have close relatives or even close friends in whom they can confide.

“It’s amazing how isolated people are in suburbia,” Eckhardt says.

Paul Lingren has a Mission Viejo practice. He says pervasive job insecurity and the whole host of problems that it creates, both financial and psychological, has resulted “in a great amount of rage.” He also sees a modern society where many people don’t know their neighbors and have no confidants with whom to discuss pent-up feelings.

He went on to say that society has sanctioned violence, both in the home and on television and movies. Children, especially, tend to mimic behavior they’ve seen; he cited the well-established thesis that most children have seen thousands of acts of televised violence during their formative years.

Therapists don’t have to go looking for angry and frustrated people, Lingren says. They come to him.

“I see that all the time. A mother told me this week she’s frightened that, because of a loss of support she’s experiencing and the frustration of raising a child alone, she’s afraid she’ll act out her anger toward the child.”

Five dead victims of family violence in the last week tell us we haven’t created paradise here. In this geographically beautiful suburban neck of the world, where we want to believe every comfort is at hand, it clearly isn’t.

“It’s tragic,” Eckhardt says, “but I’m really struck with the isolation and alienation. . . . “

No, the spate of family violence isn’t typical. It’s still rare to hear shots ring out in suburbia. Maybe that’s why when it hits in such rapid-fire bursts, it startles us. And scares us too, because we begin thinking there are no sanctuaries left.

You’re left to conclude that on the spectrum that represents violence in the modern world, there are few places left that aren’t moving in the wrong direction. You’re left to conclude that we somehow have to start hearing the anger out there before it’s too late.

Dana Parsons’ columns appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at the Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.