First, I apologize for scattered, meandering thoughts. Poor grammar and general misuse of the English language.
In Remembrance: Capt John A Gaffaney, Lt. Col. Juanita L. Warman, Maj. Libardo Caraveo, Capt. Russell Seager, Staff Sgt. Justin Decrow, Sgt. Amy Krueger, Spc. Jason Hunt, Spc. Frederick Greene, Pfc. Aaron Nemelka, Pfc. Michael Pearson, Spc. Kham Xiong, Pvt. Francheska Velez and retired Chief Warrant Officer Michael Cahill and one unborn child.
November 5, 2009. I had just got offline with chatting with my husband. It was his bedtime and time for me to get busy with the day. The phone rang. It was my mother in law. I always look forward to her calls. I cheerfully answered. The first words out of her mouth were, "I just wanted to make sure you are okay." I said yes everything is fine, her son is fine. She said she just saw on the news about the shootings. Things got crazy at that point. My phones were ringing non-stop. The Fort Hood alert system was going off. A mile from the gate and I can hear it over and over again. (BLARING ALARM): ATTENTION: SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. Remain indoors. Lock your doors. Turn off heating/AC. Close your vents. ~ That isn't verbatim, but close. When you hear it and you don't know what is going on it is scary.
The news was reporting three or more gunmen shooting on Fort Hood. The base was under attack. In the beginning we did not know how widespread the attack was. The news was reporting rumors. A shooter at Commanche III, now a shooter at Kouma village (off base just up the road from me.) It was chaos. It was terror.
The news spread faster than fire ever thought of spreading and within minutes my husband was back online issuing orders to me to stay inside and pull the curtains and lock the doors. Cursing that we do not have our gun yet. Swearing that will be resolved. (And it was.)
There were new reports of a shooter being at the main PX, now somewhere else. I kept waiting for a bomb of some sort. Literally or metaphorically. There was such a looming sense of doom. The President is on TV. General Cone is on TV. He said a shooter had been shot and killed and two more were in custody. We still did not know how many there were.
I was fielding calls from a VERY panicked mother that lived in Commance III. There were police everywhere. I kept myself more calm by trying to calm her.
Base was locked down. There was no way in or out. Parents sat at the gates just blocks away from their children in school, not able to get to them.
The death toll kept rising. The background noise is sirens blaring nonstop with emergency personnel.
People were speculating, "Why didn't the soldiers just shoot him?" Soldiers don't carry weapons when they are at home. No more than the average person carries a weapon to their job. On that day our soldiers that protect a nation could offer no protection at home.
My husband online via video cam in Iraq felt helpless and he was. There was nothing he could do to help the soldiers back home or comfort me. For now, just being able to see his face had to be enough. I was angry. Angry that he couldn't be here to comfort me. Angry that while he is overseas fighting terrorism it is happening in his back yard.
Nighttime came. Uncertainty filled the dark house. General Cone gave another press conference. This time bringing some relief and answers. There was one shooter. He was not dead. He had been shot and taken to the hospital.
With help from a friend called Ambien I was able to finally go to sleep that night. The family I had comforted via phone was finally able to leave base and came to spend the night.
The next few days as police raided the shooters apartment and evidence emerged did little to comfort me. He was a Major in the US Army. Trained in our military. A psychiatrist that is SUPPOSED to be there to comfort soldiers and help them. He was a terrorist. I was mad at hell!
I desperately needed to go to the commissary. I didn't feel safe but kept telling myself I cannot let fear win. If I did, the terrorist wins. Going through the gates two days after the shooting everything was so different. There were armed soldiers in full military gear everywhere. They were stationed at the ends of the commissary and at the entrance and exit. I should have found that comforting and in a way I did. I couldn't help but worry. The place I feel the safest (on base) was no longer safe. We had to have armed soldiers standing around protecting us.
No, I did not personally know anyone that lost their life or was injured that day. But then again, I do. There is a strong bond in the military. One I would never have known if my husband didn't choose to reenlist. One I will never forget. One I am thankful for him to be able to let me see. Do I hurt for those killed and injured? More than anyone can fully realize.
It is a year later and I still cringe when I see his picture. One year later I still shake when I go on base. There isn't a single time I don't look over my shoulder when I go in a building to make sure no one has a gun. But I go. Just as I forced myself to attend the memorial service on November 10th. To take a stand against terrorism. I don't make as many shopping trips now. Only out of pure necessity. I can only handle so much stress. I try to explain my fear to some. It's not really understood.
There were so many victims that day. Not just the people injured and killed by gunfire. Many of us have emotional scars that will never go away. We can only look past them and try to soothe them any way we can. I'm sure as years go by the scars will fade more and more but they will never miraculously disappear.
I had to write about it today. I have read so much and watched so many tributes, shedding tears from the time I woke up. No, since I went to bed last night knowing that today was the anniversary. Writing helps to heal as much as shedding tears.
I met a wonderful friend the day of the memorial service. She has been a rock for me. During this sad time we are going to find time to celebrate our friendship. That's what life is right? Overcoming and moving on.
The first is video that I took the day of the memorial service. There is really nothing to see, I wasn't aiming at anything. Close your eyes and listen.
A tribute I found.
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