Former U.S. Army Major Nidal Hasan opened fire on unarmed American soldiers at Fort Hood on November 5, 2009, killing 13 and wounding more than 30. A civilian police officer shot him during the massacre, severing his spinal cord. He's been in a wheelchair ever since.

New Jersey Governor Mikie Sherrill wants you to feel sad about the wheelchair part.

Sherrill, a Democrat, weighed in on Hasan's upcoming execution — scheduled for December 3 by firing squad — and delivered what might be the most perfectly distilled example of misplaced sympathy in modern political history. Her concern wasn't for the 13 families who buried soldiers that day. It wasn't for the more than 30 people who carry those wounds. It was for the emotional burden on the young service member who would have to pull the trigger on a man in a wheelchair.

"The thing that just keeps breaking my heart," Sherrill said, "imagine the 20-year-old, maybe the 18-year-old that stepped up to serve, that gets orders and says, you're going to go shoot this guy who's in a wheelchair."

That's the full quote. Read it carefully. She said "this guy who's in a wheelchair." Not "the man who committed the deadliest terrorist attack on a U.S. military installation." Not "the jihadist who screamed 'Allahu Akbar' while executing unarmed soldiers." Just "this guy who's in a wheelchair" — as if he's some random disabled person the government decided to execute for no particular reason.

The omission is the tell. Sherrill didn't forget why Nidal Hasan is in a wheelchair. She chose not to mention it. Because the moment you say "he's in the wheelchair because a hero cop shot him mid-massacre," the sympathy evaporates. The framing only works if you strip every piece of context that explains how a mass murderer ended up paralyzed.

Sherrill served in the Navy. She knows what Fort Hood means to military families. She knows that Hasan's attack was classified as "workplace violence" by the Obama administration for years — a designation that denied victims Purple Hearts and combat-related benefits until Congress finally intervened. Those families waited years just to have the government acknowledge what happened to them.

And now a governor who wore the uniform is on camera worrying about whether the firing squad will feel bad.

The 13 soldiers Hasan murdered didn't get to be in wheelchairs. They got flag-draped coffins. The survivors who took bullets that day — some of whom still carry shrapnel — might have thoughts about who deserves the heartbreak in this story.

Hasan is scheduled to face a firing squad on December 3. He's in the wheelchair because someone stopped him from killing more Americans.

Sherrill left that part out.