The horrible, heartbreaking events that have occurred in Texas have brought to mind a memory of one of the most frightening days of my life, as a parent.
My girls were in Kindergarten and 2nd grade. I was just about to leave to go pick them up when I noticed my ex-husband was calling me. His voice was strained though he was trying his best to hold it steady. He asked me if I'd heard what was going on, if I knew that the school was on lockdown due to some kind of unspecified active shooter situation. No, I hadn't heard, and of course, I immediately became hysterical.
He raised his voice at me in that same strained, steady manner, demanded that I get my shit together immediately and keep it together because me losing it was the last thing anyone needed.
I tried.
He explained to me that there wasn't anymore information available, but he ran immediately to the school. when he heard. The police had it barricaded off, and he said he saw officers in tactical gear storming into the school with assault rifles. The only thing the police on site reported was that children were going to be bussed to the middle school, and all the parents needed to go there.
I was ready to throw up because...that reminded me too much of what I'd read about the aftermath of Columbine, how parents had to wait at the middle school for their children to get off the bus.
I fell to pieces. He told me to stay where I was. He told me that he was on his way there, and that he would be the one to collect them. My heart turned inside out. I knew exactly what he wasn't saying. If something had indeed gone wrong, he was going to be the one to face the news first.
In the context of my ex-husband, he's always been a less than stellar father, pretty much lackluster, uninvolved, more wrapped up in his own mess than anything else, but the stress and reality of this situation was enough to make him snap his head up and be a father, a man. That, in and of itself, was frightening, too.
Of course, I got in the car and rushed to the middle school. We were there for several hours, and there was no further information. Finally, the busses began to arrive. And my little girls got off and ran to me, to their father, sobbing in confusion and relief.
In apartment complex beside the school, a man had gone in and shot his ex-wife, his mother, and authorities were able to be alerted of his would-be plans to storm into the elementary school and murder his children. Officers had immediately rushed to the scene, protected the school inside and out. They were able to intercept the man and shot him dead before he could carry out his plan.
My daughters described how one minute, everything was fine and then the next, everything fell apart. They announced a lockdown, but they didn't do the things they'd been taught. Police officers came running into the school with big guns, shouting at everyone to hurry, to follow them. Everyone in the whole school was rushed into locker rooms. Police officers with their big guns stood outside to guard them. Everyone was crying, they said. Everyone was hugging each other. Some of their teachers were crying, too. Their teachers kept telling them over and over how much they loved them. No one knew what was happening, they said. Everyone was just so afraid.
I will be forever grateful to the police officers in our town with how quickly they reacted, and just thank God that somehow, they received this news not a moment too soon.
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