I remember when one of my sons asked me why people have to die. Surprised, I gave a variety of answers – it was their time, God needed them in heaven more than we needed them here and, grasping at straws, referencing “The Lion King” movie with the circle-of-life explanation.

They didn’t really buy those responses but I think they knew those were the best answers I could give. I don’t know why people have to die. I especially don’t know why innocent people have to die at the hands of a madman, terrorists or thieves.

Nobody has an answer to that.

Here in Texas, there’s been another senseless killing, and we’re trying to make sense out of a situation that has no explanation even though quite a few are proposed. The shooter had a history of mental illness. He was angry at his mother-in-law. He had access to guns.

In the shocked aftermath, we helplessly search for a way to figure out why people do the things they do.

Nobody’s been able to figure out why the gunman in Las Vegas opened fire on innocent people at a music festival. We can’t wrap our minds around the fact that somebody, or more than one person, wanted to deliberately kill innocent people.

People with a conscience cannot comprehend that type of thinking.

There are, however, some things I think I can explain.

I know why churches are hiring armed police officers to stand watch during services. I know why people stay away from outdoor concerts or large crowds. I know why people are instructing their family members to be aware of their surroundings at all time.

I know why Stephen Willeford grabbed his gun and shot at the murderer who had opened fire on innocent people who were worshipping at the Sutherland Springs Baptist Church. I know why Willeford climbed into a stranger’s vehicle, told him to hit the gas and why the two chased after the car with the murderer in it.

They did it because, as Johnnie Langendorff, the driver, said, “That’s what you do.”

These two men stepped up because they wanted to stop the bad guy. They wanted to save lives. They put themselves in danger without thinking because it was the right thing to do.

In our society, doing the right thing isn’t easy any more. We hear so many excuses about why people do bad things. At the top of the list is they’re suffering from a personality disorder.

Thousands of people have personality disorders, conditions that cause them immeasurable pain but they don’t hurt others. They quietly work their way through life, day after day, and many of us don’t even know they’re battling such demons.

We hear that there’s too many guns in our society and we should take them all away. Accountable people who have access to firearms don’t go out and shoot innocent people. Most gun owners obey the laws, file the right papers to carry firearms and teach their children to respect guns and ammunition.

As I read article after article about senseless killings and as reporters and pundits try to come up with a reason why someone would kill people in a mass shooting, I know they’re wasting their time.

Because there isn’t a reason.

Instead, I want to concentrate on what I do have answers for. There’s a simple reason Johnnie Langendorff and Stephen Willeford stepped up as heroes, put their lives on the line to try and stop a killer from hurting anybody else.

“That’s what you do,” they said.

That’s an explanation I understand.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.