…when you hear on the news that there's a shooter on the campus where your kids spend their days… and then you hear he's in a library and so you glance at your son's schedule and see he's supposed to be at his job in a library right at that minute, and so your heart, which has dropped to your feet, then bounced and swelled up into your throat, swells more even as you're telling it to chill, that there's no sense in worrying. Then you glance at your daughter's schedule, relieved to see this is her late day, but then that pesty thought skitters through… what if she went to the library to study? That library?
In my case, I pick up my cell phone to text them to make sure – and there's one from Daniel, beating me to the punch, telling me about the incident and adding, I'm okay, still at the apartment, and so then I call TG who answers on the first ring, I'm okay.
Then I give thanks and pray for the other kids and parents who might be affected… and then give thanks again when I hear no one was injured but the shooter. So I pray for him and his family.
And give thanks again.
But still, running through my head is one question… why? Poor kid. How miserable his life must have been that he resorted to this.
On Aug. 1, 1966, Charles Whitman went to the 28th floor observation deck at the UT clock tower and began shooting at people below. He killed 16 people and wounded nearly three dozen before police killed him about 90 minutes after the siege began.
For more information on the incident at the University of Texas today, click HERE.
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