Experiencing a school shooting
Let’s get right into it.
Here is my story of surviving a school shooting, and then my 15 minutes of unfortunate fame.
Reader discretion is advised.
Santa Monica College
Santa Monica, CA 12:30PM
I was 1 final test away from leaving my 2 year college to transfer to a 4 year university. I was studying away with a small group of peers for our botany final…
BANG
???
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG
I look up to see one of my peers quickly grabbing her items and throwing it in her bag. Over my right shoulder is a private study room with students running inside to take cover. In my calmness and height of danger, I see students huddling in the fetal position crying. I slam the door behind me and crouch to the floor.
I am closest to the door and my emergency training from lifeguarding kicked in.
I exclaimed, “Everyone calm down. Shut up. Call 911. We are all going to be okay.”
I immediately texted my grandfather, “School shooting, turn on the TV.”
I quickly called 911 and alerted them to the situation.
Time seemed as if it froze, but I was still more calm than ever. Focused on the task at hand to get out safely.
Minutes goes by and nothing.
Continued crying from my peers and being extremely frantic.
I was still so calm.
One student said “they are here”, looking out a small window in the study room. It was the police.
I was the closest to the door and I quickly moved away to ensure the door didn’t hit me.
It opens…
“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP!”
I froze and just stared down the chamber of the officer’s gun and surprisingly, wasn’t even scared. I was so focused on getting to safety.
I told the officer in a calm manner, “Just get us out of here.”
“Leave your stuff and crawl out!”
We all got on our hands and knees and crawled out of the library. It was about 40 yards to get out of the library. I made my way towards the glass doorway that had been completely shattered from bullets.
The foyer was littered with thousands of rounds the shooter had on him.
The main steps to the library was smeared with blood from the shooter’s body that was dragged out by police after killing him.
We ran to the outer street of the college, we were almost to safety. I was holding a female peer that was extremely distraught when I heard…
“Keep running, don’t look!”
I looked up and to the left and I saw this…
I simply just kept running down Pearl Street to beyond the yellow tape. I was finally safe.
I sat on the curb to my phone blowing up with friends and family ensuring my safety.
I was pacing around to start processing what happened.
I was then approached by a reporter asking for an interview.
Having just gone through something so traumatizing, I wasn’t ready to talk.
I then very quickly realized that I had a civic duty as a journalism student to ensure that the public knew exactly what happened.
I was interviewed by over 40 different outlets within a 2 hour timespan. I oddly enjoyed it.
After giving my accounts of the situation, I had to return to reality.
How am I going to get home? My car and all my belongings were on campus and it was an active crime scene. Everything was on lock down.
I decided to walk home, about 2.5 miles.
I made phone calls to my workplace, family members, and just continued to process everything.
I had people honking at me and waving at me along the drive home. I was seen in millions of homes, and I was famous for about 15 minutes.
I arrived at home and finally was able to sit down.
I get a phone call from the Anderson Cooper show.
This was the last interview I did for the day.
I then proceeded to cry for about 2 hours straight.
It was a sleepless night to say the least.
I woke up around 4am to a phone call from an Atlanta news station and did one last interview.
The aftermath and coping
I didn’t sleep for about 3 days. It was tough to process everything.
Weeks went by, and it just faded into the past. No real counseling needed.
After a few years had gone by, I was at work in Salt Lake City, Utah when I got a news alert that there was an active shooter on the campus of UCLA, about 10 miles from Santa Monica College.
I had plenty of friends that attended UCLA. A few were on campus at the time.
I never knew what a panic attack was until that day.
I kept my calm inside my cubicle, but I was absolutely freaking out.
I figured out my new “trigger” for a lack of better term. It is active shooters near where I grew up in Los Angeles. As horrific as school shootings have been like Stoneman Douglas, Sandy Hook, and others — they didn’t evoke any heightened emotions from me.
This is the scar that was left.
After that panic attack, I decided to seek help. I was diagnosed with a mild case of PTSD. Seeing a therapist did help, but I realized it was me needing to accept what happened.
Recently, I watched America Under Fire: Santa Monica College and it evoked many old emotions I felt on that day. The stress, anger, sadness, fear, and anguish all came back to me in the short 45 minute documentary.
It also presented information I never knew. It detailed his emotional issues dating back to high school that was well documented. And showed vivid video evidence of what exactly happened.
More than anything, I’ve learned it’s super important to keep this tragic situation in perspective.
I decided that in order to move on, I needed to forgive him. So I did.
The politics of mass shootings
After a horrible event like a mass shooting, everyone races to Facebook to debate gun control as if they are some sort of lawyer or actually understand what these people have gone through.
I’m not here to say whether or not the U.S. has a gun problem or mental health issue. If someone wants to hurt you, they will find any way possible.
However, it is worth nothing that the gunman who wanted to take my life along with my peers handmade his gun from parts found on the internet. He applied to purchase a gun a few years prior, and was denied. No amount of “gun control” would have done anything to prevent this incident.
However, the purpose of this piece isn’t supposed to support a political belief.
People try to debate right away after something happens, and then it quickly dies off. These victims including myself have to live with this for the rest of their lives. For some, they are able to move on without any major trauma. For others, it is absolutely debilitating.
Let’s just remember what people are going through when these tragedies happen.
