My 8-Year-Old Son’s Experience At A Soccer Game Traumatized Me — And It’s A Chilling Reminder Of What Parents In America Face.

In spring 2024, my 8-year-old son and my 9-year-old niece found a discarded, loaded handgun while playing along the outer edge of a ball field.

We were there to watch my youngest niece play soccer. She was 7 at the time. My brother was the coach, so he and my sister-in-law were there, too. There were probably four or five games running simultaneously, with at least 60 elementary-aged children and their families spread comfortably across the green expanse.

It was a weekday, and the game started at 6 p.m. It was a perfect spring evening. The field was one of several that mark a grassy strip nestled between the Potomac River and a wooded area that leads to the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal path. It’s a popular area for walking, biking, fishing and boating.

It probably looked exactly like the sports games you attend with your children. Ordinary, yet emblematic of the way so many American families spend their free time with their children.

While I watched the game, my son and his cousin were getting restless. They asked if they could explore beneath the bridge, where the large concrete foundation blocks held the legs of the structure. My first instinct was to say “no.” I am an anxious mother, so my first instinct is always “no.”