Ten years ago our community was shaken by the shootings at Columbine. It's one of those events where you remember exactly where you were, what you were doing, what you were wearing, etc. It's like listening to you parents talk about JFK being shot, or man's first steps on the moon. You just remember.
Ten years ago today I was working, cleaning up a crystal chandelier that had just fallen and broke to pieces in the showroom I worked at. My mom paged me (yes, that's when everyone had pagers), so I called and she asked if I had heard anything on the news about what was going on up at Columbine. I told her no. She had spoke with my aunt and found out that my cousin, a student at Columbine, had been there when it happened and people were dead and there was so much confusion. I hadn't heard anything, but I immediately left and went to my cousins house. The drive there was chaos. My aunt lived in the housing development behind Columbine - my family, the development across from my aunts. Police were every where. Roads were blocked. Helicopters hovered. I can still hear those helicopters. They would come everyday for the first week after the shootings and just hover over the school. It was erie.
I finally got to my cousin's house and gave him a big, big hug - just because I was so glad to see him alive. He was shaken up, but he told me what had just happened. There wasn't a ton of detail, but he was telling me what stuck out in his mind. Him and his best friend were in the library so Ryan (my cousin) could work on a paper. They normally didn't spend their lunch hour at school. They would usually go back to my aunt's house for lunch - but not this day. Ryan was working on his paper, his best friend reading a car magazine. They heard loud 'bombing' noises and soon after a someone ran in the library and said people were shooting. The librarian told all the kids to get under the table. Ryan didn't follow instructions - he ran, jumped over the check out counter and hid in a closet in the library. His best friend listened to the librarian and got under the table. Ryan tried to get his friend to come with him, but he stayed under the table. That was the last time he saw his best friend alive. His friend was Matt Kechter, one of the students fatally shot at Columbine.
Ryan remembers laying on the floor in the closet, hearing shooting and 'bombing' noises. He also said he could feel the floor vibrating when the 'bombing' noises were happening. After a while when they weren't hearing anymore shooting, my cousin and a some others that were in the closet decided to get out and run. The librarian stayed in the closet. You see, she was overweight and feared that she couldn't run fast enough to save herself, so she stayed. She did make it out alive - she just stayed in the library closet for hours and hours, until the police were finally making their rounds.
My cousin said as they were running out, he remembered seeing people lying on the floor in the library. They opened a door that went out and he said he jumped over something as he ran out the door to the outside. Later he found out that what he had jumped over was the body of Rachel Joy Scott. All the people with my cousin ran and ran all the way to my aunt's house. They didn't stop. They had no idea if the shooters were still alive and if they'd make it out alive. So, they ran. He didn't know everyone that went back to his house with him that day. One of them that he didn't know, Brittany, ended up being his wife. They married in 2005 and welcomed a son into their family May 2008.
As he told me these things that he had just been through, I sat there with tears rolling down my face. Every time the phone rang, he stopped to see who it was. He was waiting to get a call from Matt. He wanted to get that call so bad. He left his friend in that library and that call seemed to be the most important thing to him at that time. Sadly enough, he never got the call.
Over the next few days, so much more was revealed. Ryan remembered more. The block that we lived on became overrun with vehicles. Two houses down was where Rachel Scott lived. Her brother, Craig, was in the library and survived. His story is known world wide. We spent time with Rachel and Craig's mom, Beth, and Craig himself. What a tragic time for these families. The 'boy hanging out of the window', Pat Ireland, was the cousin of a girl I had known since the 7th grade. It seemed that all these lives were intertwined somehow to us in the community. A couple weeks prior to the shootings, I had met Matt Kechter. My cousin had gotten his driver's license, so he drove over to my house with Matt and my other cousin, Brandon. Matt was this big, teddy bear of a teenager. I remember his smile as we stood on our front lawn and joked about Ryan having a driver's licence.
We watched as Rachel Scott's family was surrounded by the news media. They would just just camp out in front of their house. Big lights, cameras, vans. You couldn't escape them. We lived in a cul-de-sac, so you had to deal with them every time you left and came back. News vans would be parked in front of our home. I felt so bad for them. My mom went around the neighborhood and organized everyone to contribute meals for this family - and she had it covered for 2 months. They didn't have time to cook. Time to shop for food. They had just lost their daughter and the whole world was watching these families as they had to figure out how to handle it.
When the police released their video footage (helicopter view) from that day to the families, Rachel's mom, Beth, came up to our house and asked if she could watch it there - she didn't want to watch it alone. The media gathered on our sidewalk waiting for her to come out. We put the tape in and Beth got on her knees in front of our TV. My mom and I did the same. One of us on each side of her - to watch. We didn't know what we were going to see. That was hard - watching the video that day. Hard to watch, seeing kids lying on the ground in pools of blood, police running around - still not aware of what the reality of all this was. And hard to watch this mother finally get to see her daughter. Rachel had been shot and lay on that sidewalk by the door that my cousin ran out of. Beth, my mother and I watched as a police man took Rachel's body and moved it into the rocks so they could open the door. We had to watch this mother cry and reach out to the TV asking, 'Why did they just drag her into the rocks?', 'That's my baby, why did they just drag her?!' Tears fell from all of our eyes as we watched this. My mother hugged Beth. Two mom's feeling the loss of this child. Mother's know. It may not be your own child, but a mother knows the pain. Beth left to go home and my mom went out with her. The media wanted to talk to my mom and ask about the tape. My mother, a woman of integrity, told them 'No.' Beth was her friend and she wasn't going to speak with them about this personal and difficult time in her life.
Funerals took place for weeks. I attended Matt Kechter's. My cousin was a pallbearer. He stood up to say a few words. "I love you, Matt!" was almost all he could get out. He cried. The whole church fell silent and we cried with him. My dad attended Rachel's funeral. A father who could understand the pain that would come from losing a child. Any parent could understand. He has never lost a child, but his compassion is strong. He did it in honor of Rachel.
This event changed everything. Not just locally, but all over the world. Sadly enough, worse school killings have happened since - and many go unnoticed. How sad that they are so common, we don't have any reaction to them. People flocked from all over the world to see 'Columbine' and the memorial ground it had become. It was amazing. I've never seen such an outreach of people. The cars of the victims remained in the parking lot at Clement Park and became part of the memorial. Flowers, notes, stuffed animals, crosses, gifts - so many things were left on these cars, on the fence of the tennis courts at the school. I had never seen anything like this before. It was amazing and heartfelt, but many of us just wanted things to get back to 'normal. Well, as normal as can be. And, soon enough, the crowds became fewer and fewer. The memorials started coming down. Rachel's car came home. Once it stood as a memorial, completely covered in flowers, gifts, notes and letters and now it just sat parked in front of her house. Her family eventually moved. My parents moved. We kept in touch and still run into them now and then. It's always nice to see Beth and Craig.
Every year since this community has had a memorial service to honor these victims and families. Every year, the crowds are less and less. It makes you feel bad, but that's what it is. They are hosting a memorial tonight marking the 10 year anniversary of 'Columbine'. As I drove to the park this morning for our daily walk, I passed by Columbine High School - a place I pass at least once a day. The 2 parking lots are blocked off by armed police today - and that was the extent of it. No more do the news stations from all over the country set up in the Clement Park parking lot 2 days in advanced. No more do we hear of Katie Couric waiting to interview some of the survivors. No more is the world watching as April 20th rolls around. The world has moved on - as it should. This community and those families affected by this day in history - we still remember. We still honor those who died that day. I am still thankful that my cousin was not one of them. I am sad that lives were lost. Young lives. Many of them would be married today. They would have kids of their own. They would take them for walks at the park. They would be enjoying the life they had a right to.
On any normal day you can visit the memorial at Clement Park and be the only one there. Free to cry as you read inscsriptions from the parents and families of those killed. It's a quiet spot and is a place where no words are necessary. I love the photo below of Bella, my daughter, over looking the memorial. My husband and I pose as well, with the beauty of the rocky mountains as the backdrop.
I remember that day vividly. I remember crying that night thinking of all the kids lying dead in that school and out on the sidewalk. Parents weren't able to see their kids yet. Parents were waiting to be with their children. As I laid there crying that night, the humming of the helicopters hovering was the only background noise I remember. I will never forget April 20, 1999.
We are Columbine.
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