D ear President Trump, I am sorry you didn’t make it to Annapolis. We just finished eulogizing our dead friends. Maybe you could have said a few nice words, too.

I know you don’t read The Capital , but I want to point out a few recent letters — there will be more — that have debated whether you should bear some responsibility for the June 28 deadly assault on my newsroom.

Look, you and I both know you were not responsible for this.

The man police say did it is sitting in the Anne Arundel County Detention Center just down the road from my new office. We had to move because of the damage done by shotgun blasts to a physical space filled with reporters notebooks and laptops, not to mention the less tangible scars on the hearts of those who survived.

I know how hurtful this accusation seems. You see, some readers blame me too.

I got a letter to the editor, that’s me by the way, from a reader who said I’d have to carry the burden of this for the rest of my life. I agreed with the idea but was surprised by the reasoning. Apparently, I created a climate where my friends and colleagues didn’t feel it was OK to bring their guns to work.

He sent me a nice drawing to illustrate his point, showing how the dead members of my staff — who reported on council meetings and local teenagers — might have survived if only they could have fired back. The rendering of one man shooting another as he fled for his life was a bit confusing though. I wasn’t sure which role the reader suggested was mine.

Another reader wrote that it was my fault because I knew there was an angry person out there but failed to put security officers at the door. I don’t know about this. I’m troubled by the notion of candidates for the school board being questioned before being allowed to meet the community newspaper's editorial board.

Blaming people can be comforting. I had to stop myself from wondering if your rhetoric was the feather’s weight of hate that tipped the gunman into a fit of homicidal rage. I was pretty hurt when you called journalists the enemy of the people, and pretty angry when you said 75 percent of journalists are dishonest even before our funerals were finished.

Don't worry, I doubt either side will mention you during the trial.

Pardon my rambling. I’ve struggled with difficulty sleeping lately, and bouts of weeping have made getting through the day harder than it used to be. Writing helps, but only so much.

I’m publishing this letter to you in the hopes that you’ll answer a question for me.

I asked it at the memorial service we held for our friends Thursday. I called on the journalists in the room to ask every public official, every candidate for office and their own communities the same question. I called on them to ask you.

It didn’t make the story about the service. Maybe no one heard what I was saying because I was choking on tears. Maybe no one was listening.

So here’s my question: How do we make what happened in Annapolis the last mass shooting in America?

Please don’t blame others for a failure to answer this question before now. It’s hard. I know there is no answer, yet. Kind of a puzzle, huh?

I suppose what I really want is for you to search for a solution. I’m asking you to do your job and lead us.

You might go down as the greatest president in history if only you could answer this question. You’d be remembered as a good one if only you would try.

There are a lot of complex issues involved, and maybe some simple ones. My friends were caught between all of them.

Gun control laws — and Maryland has good ones — weren’t designed to stop a rampage with a legally obtained shotgun. Our legal system failed to spot a man who seemed dangerously obsessed to many of those who came into contact with him. Our nation seems unable to slow the momentum of its gathering rage.

I hope it’s not too late. With every day that passes, the attention on Annapolis fades. It faded for Newtown, Aurora, Las Vegas, Orlando and even Columbine.

It’s a sad truth that there will be another opportunity to start the discussion if you miss this one.

Please do your job. Please don't wait for the next time. Please lead.

We’re all waiting for someone to try.