Adventurous April

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Returning to Sandy Hook

My thoughts have often returned to the events of Sandy Hook over the past two months.  It is something I know I will never forget.  It has touched me and changed me.


On Friday, we were in the middle of a teacher workday at our school.  The children had the day off so teachers could finish entering trimester grades into the computer and then export them to the server to be printed.  It's the type of "catch-up day" we treasure as elementary teachers. 


This normal day suddenly became anything but normal when our principal came on the loudspeaker shouting "Code Red!  Code Red!  Code Red!"  This is our lock down signal, so we immediately sprang into action.  Our doors are always locked now, but we had to make sure they were tightly closed, turn off all lights, and go to our safe places in the classroom.  Then silence.  For twenty long minutes there was not a sound.  We didn't know what was going on.  Had an irate parent arrived at the school and caused a scene?  Was there a felon in the area?  What was going on? 

Then we heard the running of feet on the second floor.  This is not an area we are used to hearing noise from.  It is our main storage area and the location of all the "mechanical" devices keeping our school going.  But now we heard the sound of running feet ... and then shouting.  Angry shouting.  Obviously there was an intruder in our building! 

More minutes passed, and then the sound of keys opening my door.  My heart froze.  Okay, they tell us that only the police will have the keys to our room.  Only they will be able to unlock our doors.  They tell us this ... but we know that sometimes the "bad guys" are able to do what they shouldn't be able to do.  Suddenly, my door was thrown open and two men stormed inside, each with an assault rifle held at the ready.  Each screaming.  One turned on me and started shouting - "Hands up!  Hands up!  Don't move!  Police!"  Your mind registers the uniform, but your heart quails - are you really who you say you are?"  The assault rifle was a foot from my chest.  The man continued to scream at me not to move.  The other officer was searching every nook and cranny of my room before yelling "All clear!"  They then turned and exited the room, going to the room next door where my 67 year-old teaching partner was.  "Oh God, please don't let her have a heart attack!"  I thought.  Once her room was cleared, she tried to come to my room and was screamed at and forced back into her room by an officer.

At this point, the thought hit me.  This is what the teachers and students at Sandy Hook faced.  They didn't know what was going on.  They were frightened.  Their last moments were lived facing down an assault rifle.  I thought of my family, my daughter, all I wanted to accomplish in my life.  There was no gunfire, but I was unsure what was going on.  My thought was that a felon had come into our school and they were searching for him.  What if he came into my now unlocked room?  (I was unaware that there were policemen securing the hallways to prevent this.)  I was afraid, as I knew they had been afraid.  That's when the silent sobs started.  My heart swelled and broke for the horror those teachers and children endured on that day.  I prayed that angels were there to comfort them and hold them through this.  Oh God, please tell me that You were there, holding them and loving them.  Slowly, my tears eased and a feeling of calm returned.  A sweet assurance came to me.  He was there.  Even in all that madness, He was there.  Love was there ... and in the face of all that horror, love won that day.  It continues to win each and every battle, for God is stronger than hate, and His love cannot be defeated. 


This trial ended for us when our principal finally came on the loudspeaker and announced that we were to report to the library for a debriefing on the drill.  I'm not going to go into my feelings regarding this "over-the-top" drill we experienced.  That's for another day.  Today I am thankful to be here and to be surrounded by my family, to sing praises to a God who loves us at our most unlovable, and to breathe the sweet, if tentative, air of springtime.  I am thankful for another day ... and I am thankful for the unconquerable power of love.  Even in the face of death, love remains.

No comments:

Post a Comment