Comprehend a random tragedy? You can’t. The murder of local business owner proves it | Opinion
What do you say when there are no words? What do you feel when the emotions don’t seem to suffice?
How do we respond when the world, as it has a habit of doing, reminds us that the only guarantees are pain, suffering, undiscerning cruelty and random acts of chance?
What if all of those things we like to think are under our control — like good health, longevity, happiness, love and lasting human connection — can be stolen away in an instant, without rhyme, reason or a larger meaning?
Tacoma has been grappling with these existential questions this week, and then some.
In the wake of one of the most senseless tragedies to hit this city in a very long time, the pain and heartbreak are thick.
On Friday, Jan. 5, the co-owner and co-founder of Howdy Bagel, 32-year-old Jacob Carter, was shot and killed in New Orleans, The News Tribune reported on Monday.
Carter was on vacation with his husband and business partner, Daniel Blagovich.
According to media coverage, the couple was walking near Bourbon Street when an unknown shooter approached and fatally shot Carter then fled into the night.
“He died in my arms,” Blagovich told The News Tribune on Monday.
Back in Tacoma, where Blagovich and Carter’s bagel shop had emerged as a shining example of Tacoma’s unshakeable spirit and creative entrepreneurialism, we’re left to make sense of it — even if the task is impossible.
As a community, we’re forced to contend with one of the human experience’s most humbling and vexing dilemmas:
Terrible things happen to good people all the time, and there’s no sense of order, morality or faith that makes it pencil out.
Babies are diagnosed with vicious, incurable diseases. Loved ones drop dead. Lightning strikes.
Sometimes, the people who make life worth living get shot dead in the street for no reason at all.
How do we keep going when confronted with the facts?
How do we avoid hopelessness and the creeping sense that none of it — right and wrong, the golden rule, qualities like empathy and kindness — actually matter?
“It’s beyond my paygrade to make full sense of it,” said Ed Jacobs, a local chaplain who conducts public memorial services for people who have died while homeless.
In his day job, Jacobs works full-time for West Pierce Fire & Rescue, counseling people faced with the sudden loss of a loved one, often during the most traumatic moment of their lives.
“The suffering of the world, we all share in that. It truly is out of our control, even though we hate to admit it,” Jacobs told me.
“This may sound like a cop-out, but … the reality is how you react to it.”
Locally, members of Tacoma’s tight-knit restaurant and service industry have rallied. With help from the broader community, T-Town has collectively sought to offer critical support for Carter’s family, friends and the Howdy Bagel staff.
At the same time, according to Jacobs, the outpouring likely has provided a sense of purpose and grounding for those who’ve been unmoored by Carter’s senseless death.
News of the killing traveled fast last weekend, while details surrounding the murder have remained murky and incomplete.
A GoFundMe campaign initially hoping to raise $50,000 — to help give Blagovich “space to grieve without having to worry about the logistics of running a business,” according to the fundraiser’s description — has now amassed more than $220,000 in contributions.
The money speaks to a reality:
In a city that had grown to love and revere Carter — who launched the brick-and-mortar Howdy Bagel on South Tacoma Way with his husband in 2023 and quickly created what Pierce County Council member Ryan Mello described as a “welcoming, inclusive, safe space for employees the community” — the grief is immeasurable.
“I was shocked. By all accounts, it was completely random,” said Mello, who served two terms on the Tacoma City Council before being elected to his current position.
Like Howdy Bagel’s owners, Mello is openly gay. He released a statement in response to Carter’s murder.
“I keep putting myself in their shoes. What if I was with my life partner on vacation? What if we were just doing our thing, having a good time, and he got shot and died in my arms? I can’t imagine. ... They’re just good people, and (Carter) was a truly good guy,” Mello told The News Tribune by phone.
“It was never about the bagels. They created something magical and special in South Tacoma that people of all stripes, especially the LGBTQ community, found as a safe space they had never had before,” he added.
Even if the overwhelming support that Blagovich has received has helped, just a little, and provided small solace for the many people struggling with the weight of the loss, none of it makes what’s to come any easier.
“We all feel vulnerable and scared when we see people suffering. We also have a need to understand the world around us and make sense of things. It can be overwhelming,” Pacific Lutheran University psychology professor Michelle Ceynar told me last year.
Ceynar was discussing a different senseless tragedy, the death of six young people killed in Washington’s deadliest traffic accident in decades, and the myriad of ways people responded.
How does that struggle look in this case?
Jacobs said a few things are certain:
As individuals and a community, Tacoma needs the space to grieve — no matter how long it takes and how painful it is.
The process is different for everyone, Jacobs explained.
In a world filled with uncertainty, despair, haphazard tragedy and inexplicable death, all we have is the moments we’ve been lucky enough to share.
When the dust settles, the present is our only footing — the only certainty we’ve ever had.
“When someone dies in your life, it’s final,” Jacobs told me.
“The grieving process is done within the heart.”
This story was originally published January 11, 2024 at 5:00 AM.
