It's weird that when I think of Columbine, I think of Owen Nolan, the hockey player. That's what I was doing on this morning 19 years ago. Waiting for Owen Nolan after morning practice. No idea how much that day affects me all these years later. This could ramble...
The Avalanche and Sharks were about to start a playoff series. Nolan was an ex-Av, now a Shark. I was a pretty new sports reporter for the Colorado Springs Gazette. I had just moved to the Springs from Littleton.
It was at the Avs' practice facility. The Sharks had a workout there. I waited for Nolan afterward. And waited. Most players and reporters were gone. Someone from the Avs walked by, said something about a shooting at a school somewhere. It was on TV.
I stepped into a little players lounge. No one was in there, but the TV was on. There was a live shot from a helicopter. I saw it was Columbine. Oh, geez, I thought. Columbine. It was about 20 minutes away.
I called the office and asked if I should rush there. No, we're monitoring it. Our capital bureau is on it. I waited for Nolan. Called the office again. You sure? I think I should go. Finally, I went. Sorry, Owen.
An AP reporter said he was going, too. He didn't know how to get there, so I told him to follow me close. I know how to get to Columbine. I know exactly where it is, I said. I grew up not far away. Just before I moved to the Springs, I lived pretty close to Columbine for 6 years.
By the time I got there, we heard that officials were directing kids and parents to the Columbine Library off Bowles. Not the school library, but a community library across Clement Park from the school. Yeah, I know the library.
I spent hours and days and weeks there, studying for the GRE a couple years before. I probably spent more time there than anyone but the librarians. I parked at an Applebee's or something across the street and ran over.
Crying. And shouting. That's what I remember. Parents crying because they couldn't find their kids. Shouting at kids they recognized to ask if they had seen their child. There weren't many cell phones then. No kids had them.
That was a weird thing about Columbine. Kids ran out of the school and went to neighbors' or friends' houses. Parents left work but didn't know where the kids were. No one could find one another. It was a crazy, emotional scene.
Most of that day is a blur. People gathered at Clement Park and started a memorial, with all sorts of candles and teddy bears and posters, the kind of thing you see all the time now after tragedies. There were press conferences outside.
I remember a huge gathering of kids, sitting silently, numbly, some crying, lots hugging. And I remember a well-known local TV guy going to each one: Do you know someone who died? When they shook their head no, he moved to the next one. Did you? Did you?
I remember being horrified at his callousness. I was new. This is journalism? He left shocked kids and angry mothers in his wake. I remember thinking, I see what he's doing. I don't think I want to be that guy. I still see him on TV sometimes.
After dark, it started snowing. Classic springtime Denver snow. Big, heavy, wet flakes. I remember I was freezing. I had come to Denver just for the morning. I didn't have a jacket. The memorial got covered in snow.
I went to the elementary school nearby. That's where they brought the parents. Police escorted them in past the media. It was eery quiet. They were going in to be told that their worst fears were about to be realized. Their kids lay dead inside the high school.
Later, they sneaked them out the back door. The media missed their exit. I went to some motel and got a room. The next day is a blur. National media was everywhere. Remember thinking, wow, Katie Couric is here.
I spent that day talking to people near a big church, and maybe a couple more press conferences. The hockey games were postponed. So were Rockies and Nuggets games. I think Columbine solidified something that has been part of my career, my approach to sports ever since.
I'm the kind of sports writers who doesn't care who wins or loses. I appreciate them as much as ever, for lots of reasons, but the outsized importance we put on them, the unhinged partisanship, I'm not a big fan of that.
Like most of us, I thought we'd never see something like Columbine again. Now we've lost count of school shootings. I too, became numb to them. Until Sandy Hook. That got to me.
I had kids in elementary school at the time of Sandy Hook. We had just moved from the East Coast. I remember picking up my kids that afternoon. Parents were waiting outside, laughing, talking. I was mad. Didn't you here? Don't you care? These gates are wide open! I was a wreck.
Then there were more shootings. And some more. And, last fall, Las Vegas. I got a call in the middle of the night asking if I could get there ASAP. Gladly. I was glad I didn't have to beg to go, like at Columbine.
It was that first day in Vegas that I got a call from home. One of the moms from my daughter's soccer team is missing. Stacee. She was at the concert with her husband, Vinnie. Within a day, it was confirmed. She was among the 58.
There were vigils and memorials back home. My family and friends were all there. I was in Vegas all week. I missed them all. I just kept reporting, pretty numbly. It all hit me when I got home and went to my daughter's soccer game. I wrote about it. nytimes.com/2017/10/11/spo…
Yeah, things change when you get older. Have kids. I wonder how I'd handle Columbine now that I have kids in high school. What it'd be like to be one of those parents, frantically searching, then silently walking into a meeting where you know what you're about to be told?
I just hope we never forget. I won't. Thanks for following along.
