I would not wish death on anyone.
However…
On November 5, 2009, we were going about our daily lives…educating
children at a small elementary school at Fort Hood. It was a half-day, so for the most part our students had
been dismissed, but we still had about 80 children in after-school daycare, and
all of our staff and their children were still on campus. We received the alert warning to commence
lockdown procedures just after noon.
We could hear loudspeakers in the neighborhood outside as we locked
down, and all of us took our positions in emergency locations. There was a lot of confusion about what
was happening…despite the lockdown there were parents trying to get into the
school building to pick up their children from daycare, but we weren’t allowed
to release anyone, much less answer the front door.
Many of our staffmembers were getting updates from others
outside of school who were on post, and we began to hear about a shooting.
Based upon the news there was fear that the shooter was in our school
neighborhood. The hours dragged
on, and plans were put in place to feed the children with us, as well as the
staff. The emergency plan worked
well, and we did as we were told. We followed protocol pretty much to the
letter.
Eventually we were given permission to leave, at nearly 8:00
that night. Our students were
frightened and confused, and we had a storm of anxious parents trying to get to
their children. There was a lot of
hugging, anxiety, and relief as parents were reunited with their kids. It took hours to drive off post that
night, and as we arrived home the news began to reveal what had happened all
afternoon while we were hiding out in our school building.
One of “our own”…a military soldier and officer…murdered 13 people
in cold blood, and injured thirty more.
If you know anything about tragedy, you know that equates to thousands
of individuals who were affected by the massacre. It took a long time, it seemed, for the media to finally
classify the act as terrorism. No
one who was on post that day bought the lie that it was a case of workplace
violence. This was clearly
pre-meditated, and the cruel execution of innocent people created a thick cloud
of anger and grief over the post.
This was a place already affected by enormous tragedy. With over 100,000 troops deployed to
Iraq and Afghanistan, you could not ask a community to give more than they were
already giving.
And yet. We saw
military families reaching out to one another as only they know how to do…offering
comfort, solace, and an opportunity to share shock, bitterness, and anger over
this act of violence.
The shooter’s last words were “Allahu Akbar…” which
translates to “god is great…”
I don’t want to know anything about his god. His words are blasphemous to believers
of every faith.
I think peaceful Muslims worldwide would agree that nothing
about his proclamation brought glory or honor to God. As a Christian, today I would say, “God is great…”, not
because a man is going to die, but because justice was served. The price of thirteen murders is a
death sentence---it is called punishment.
While no one rejoices that a man is going to die, there is certainly a
great amount of relief that a man who was found guilty through a thorough and
fair legal proceeding is going to find that retribution is fatal and
final.
So be it.
The day after the shootings, most of our students came to
school. I credit their parents
with this act of courage. They
could have kept their children at home to hide out for the day, but they didn’t. They brought them back to us. We had a safe, secure, and solid school
day, and they had a chance to talk with their teachers. We were briefed before school on how to
handle the emotions and difficulties many of our kids would be carrying through
the doors. We were asked to give
our children a voice, but to allow them to be innocent of the brutal
details. There were soldiers with
machine guns at our school entrance, but our message to our children over and
over was clear: we’re going to
take care of you.
The murderer on post that day is no martyr. I hope we all forget his name,
his cause, his fury.
Let’s remember every single person who gave their lives that
day, and all those injured as well.
Let’s honor every person who stood in harm’s way to prevent further
injury. Let’s keep our first
responders continually in our prayers.
And let’s be grateful that a jury found the shooter guilty as charged,
and sentenced him to
an unmarked grave.
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