It's been a surreal 26 hours. Yesterday, a lone man in his 20s decided to walk onto my college campus into the engineering building and pull out a shotgun. He injured four students, one of them fatally, before another student pepper sprayed him and disarmed him when he stopped to reload. The student who died was a freshman, only nineteen years old. I didn't know any of the victims personally, though I had a couple general education classes with the student who stopped the shooter.
I didn't find out right away what was happening. I was at work downtown, and wasn't paying attention to my computer or my phone. It wasn't until a coworker asked if my boyfriend went to school at SPU and if he was okay that I heard the news. I already had texts from Chris stating that he was okay and locked in one of the music buildings. I stayed glued to my phone and computer for the next hour of work, before the death of Paul Lee made me decide that I needed to go home. I've never wanted to hold Chris more, or more tightly, than I did yesterday.
I've stayed glued to my phone and computer ever since finding out that there had been a shooting. I took today off of work so that I could be home to spend time with Chris, begin to really comprehend everything that happened, and go to campus to be with friends and faculty. I have never been so glad to be part of the SPU community than today.
I got to campus just after the prayer service let out. There were groups of students and faculty scattered around Tiffany Loop, sitting, standing, talking, praying...no one alone. Any time I ran into someone I knew, we hugged and reiterated how unreal this all felt. As I walked towards the music buildings, I stopped to pet some therapy dogs that had come to campus specifically for the students. I found out later than one of the SPU students reached out to the Queen Anne neighborhood in the local newsletter and requested that neighbors walk their dogs through campus so the students could have an opportunity to share that special bond dogs have with people.
Crawford Music Building was totally open to everyone, with doors propped open to the outside, professor's office doors open, but it was still quiet. You could hear hints of people playing music in the practice rooms. I headed over to Beegle Hall (the other music building) to where a bunch of music majors, past and present, were gathered to make music together. I was glad I had my horn with me. I've never tried improvising on horn, but today it was the only outlet I had for everything I was feeling. I know many people would find their voice to be more personal, but I just needed to have access to that full huge range I can only get when playing horn. Something about pedal tones being comforting, I guess.
It was beautiful. Some recordings were taken, so I hope later to post some of them. It wasn't complex music. We usually vamped through two chords, picking phrases to repeat, or simply vocalizing over the chords. People played percussion instruments, guitar, piano, and clarinet. There is nothing like the experience of pure interactive creation and improvisation with other musicians. Was it perfect? No. But it was exactly what we needed: an outlet for our emotions. We prayed, hugged, sat in silence, cried, even laughed a little. Afterwards, a small group of us went for a walk along the canal and talked together.
Is everything better? No, and I don't think it will be any time soon. Was there healing today? Yes, and lots of it. This community, and this city, have to come together on a level that is unbelievable. The feeling of security our campus once had is now gone, shattered in just a few minutes by a man with a gun, but the immense power of a small school's community and faith have only become stronger and more intense in the aftermath. We are together in this. We will support each other and all those affected by what has happened, especially the families and friends of the victims.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
