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Coloradans share a bond in remembrance and renewal on anniversary of tragedy
By Tina Griego, Holly Kurtzand Karen Abbott Denver Rocky Mountain News Staff Writers
They prayed and sang, cheered and wept. One year after the school shooting that shocked the world, Coloradans paused on a sun-drenched spring day to mourn the loss and nurture the hope of Columbine High. On Thursday, after a year of sorrow and anger, of questions with no answers, of wondering whether it would happen again, people from the churches of south Jefferson County to the green lawns of Clement Park and the marble steps of the state Capitol finally exhaled. "Never again will it be less than a year after this horrible tragedy," said Darrell Scott, whose daughter Rachel was one of 13 killed by two murderous teen-age gunmen. "We have made it through the first year." A year ago, Coloradans were bound together in horror, stunned not just by the killings but by their deliberateness, by the rage that lay behind the half-smiles of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. On Thursday, the 12 students and the teacher they killed were remembered in gestures large and small. In the wail of bagpipes at the Capitol, the peal of a bell at Clement Park, the football on Matt Kechter's gravestone, in Denver resident John Walton's trudging through the park just after 4 a.m. looking for the right spot to photograph the sunrise. It was, he said, the symbol of a new day, a beginning. "Each of us can make a difference," he said. "I know that's true, and it starts with just one step." In the evening, hundreds of people prayed at Columbine neighborhood churches before streaming to Clement Park for a candlelight vigil attended by 8,000 to 10,000 people. If there was a theme to the day, it was this: Take responsibility for who you are and how you treat people. "Never, ever take your relationships for granted," Columbine teacher Lee Andres told an estimated 2,500 in an early-afternoon observance at Clement Park. Tell your loved ones how you feel, he said. "Don't wait another day. Don't wait another hour, because tomorrow may be too late." At 11:21 a.m., one year to the moment after Harris and Klebold launched the worst school shooting in U.S. history, Gov. Bill Owens led the state in a moment of silence. Flags slid to half-staff. Bagpiper Michael Lancaster sent Amazing Grace floating across downtown Denver. Owens stressed that this anniversary was a day to remember the victims of Columbine and their families, not two killers who "senselessly and viciously" took their lives. "I ask you to continue to pray for the families of those who were taken from us far too early," he told about 300 outside the Capitol. "And I ask you to continue to pray for children all over the country, that they not see violence as an answer to their problems." While public services unfolded, Columbine High School held a private tribute for its students and teachers. More than 1,000 students, teachers and former students packed the school gym. Student Shannon Sykora sang Amazing Grace. Principal Frank DeAngelis shared the words of President Clinton. "What happened in Littleton pierced the soul of America," Clinton said in a message to the community. "Though a year has passed, time has not dimmed our memory or softened our grief at the loss of so many whose lives were cut off in the promise of youth." Sophomore Renee Kinsella, 16, said the assembly stirred sad memories but happy ones, too. Debate team members chuckled when one recalled Dan Mauser's hated nickname, "Moose." A boy who stood Steven Curnow up for a movie recalled apologizing so many times that when they finally did get together, an exasperated Steven said: "It's OK. We're not on a date. Stop apologizing." A teacher spoke of how she cried this year when her classroom got hot because it reminded her of how Kyle Velasquez always played with the thermostat. Below are audio clips from Columbine teacher Patti Nielson's speech at the 1-year anniversary of the Columbine tragedy. Nielson called police from Columbine's library, where she was trapped during Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold's shooting rampage. A copy of her 911 call is also included here.* RealPlayer required. 'Have you ever wondered what thoughts would go through your head at the moment of your death?' Listen (0:31) Complete recording of Nielson's speech. Listen (5:05) Nielson's April 20, 1999 call to 911 dispatchers from Columbine's library. Listen (1:51) © 2000 Denver Rocky Mountain News "It was amazing," Kinsella said of the assembly. "People were laughing and crying and loving and missing. It was what they (the victims) would have wanted. They wouldn't have wanted us to sit there and cry." Later, at a small gathering at the grave of Isaiah Shoels, Liz Keating shared fond memories of kicking him out of the library for talking too loud. "I just have such incredible memories of your son," she told Michael and Vonda Shoels, her eyes swelling with tears. "Whenever he was in the library, his voice carried. He had five kids following him. When he sat down, the table was full of kids who loved being around him. "The thing that bothered me is when someone said that Isaiah died in a library filled with hate. That's not true. The library was a place of love." Many Columbine students and their families met in Clement Park just after midday for a memorial service. There, they joined others who sprawled on the lawn on a hill above the park lake. Officials had announced earlier that up to 100,000 people might flood Clement Park. Rick Kaufman, a spokesman for Jefferson County schools, said that estimate was based on the crowd that attended ceremonies a year after the Oklahoma City bombing that killed 168 on April 19, 1995. Some people in Clement Park were disappointed in the turnout. "I'm not sure this affected the people on the other side of town the way it affected us," said travel agent Melanie Stelter, who took the day off to attend the anniversary service with her children. "To some people, this is just another day. This is not just another day here. This is not something you just get over in a year." Not for the father who is still startled out of sleep, convinced for a moment that his son didn't make it out of the school after all. Or for Seth Shatsnider, 21, who hopped a bus from Burbank, Calif., on Tuesday to make the service but isn't really sure why. "I can't get Columbine out of my head," he said. "I don't know. It's just stuck there." The Clement Park service began with brothers Stephen and Jonathan Cohen singing their haunting anthem Friend of Mine for the last time in public. DeAngelis spoke twice, each time to rousing applause. Every evening during the past year, he said, he has stood on his deck and looked at the sky, "searching for answers and inspiration." He said he found comfort thinking about the dead. "I imagined the stars were the victims' twinkling eyes," he said. "Their loving, caring souls never let me down. "There were nights that rain fell, and I knew that our children who brutally lost their lives were crying because of the sorrow bestowed upon their families and our community. "But, as today, their smiles gave us the sunshine that we needed." Teacher Patti Nielson, who made the 911 phone call from the library during the shooting, left many in tears with her words. "Have you ever wondered what thoughts go through your head at the moment of your death?" she asked. Nielson told the crowd that as she curled up in a cupboard in the library, listening to the gunfire, expecting to die, she thought of her family and friends. "Then a thought came to me that bothered me even more," she said. "I knew my family would grieve, but I did not want the circumstances of my death to make them bitter or angry. I did not want my children to grow up consumed with anger, absorbed in self-pity. I just wanted them to be happy whether I was there or not. Nielson said this first anniversary was the first day that she "let go of the anger and allowed myself the peace that comes from acceptance and forgiveness and gave myself permission to be happy again." But the emotions of renewal did not prevail everywhere Thursday. Jefferson County Sheriff John Stone responded to nine lawsuits filed against his department in state and federal courts by 15 families of the dead and wounded. He said his deputies are reeling. "They now have to defend themselves in ridiculous court actions," Stone said. "It is very upsetting to our whole agency." Just blocks from Columbine High, Leawood Elementary School was a blissfully different place from last April 20. Last year, Leawood was where some parents met up with their Columbine students, and others waited late into the night for children who never arrived. On Thursday, Leawood was quiet. The lack of attention and media were fine with Alan Fettner, a third-grade teacher. "I think it should always be remembered," Fettner said of Columbine. "But it's time to move on." Columbine High's baseball team was moving on practicing at Coors Field at the invitation of the Colorado Rockies, who were on the road in Phoenix. Though the day passed peacefully, bomb threats closed Aurora Hinkley High School and prompted the evacuation of Wheat Ridge Middle School. Tens of thousands of metro-area students skipped classes. Schools in a half-dozen states closed after receiving threats linked to the anniversary. After the public services at Clement Park, students and residents filed to the top of Rebel Hill and gazed down at the school. Some placed flowers. Some cried. In the steadiness of the breeze, in the warmth of the sun, in the embrace of strangers, they found a moment of peace. "It's in the spirit of the wind and the water and the breeze and the sun," said the Rev. Lucia Guzman of United Methodist Church. "It's a serene but sacred sense of mourning." Contact Tina Griego at (303) 892-5129 or griegot@RockyMountainNews.com; Karen Abbott at (303) 892-5188 abbottk@RockyMountainNews.com; and Holly Kurtz at (303) 892-5082 or kurtzh@RockyMountainNews.com. April 21, 2000
They prayed and sang, cheered and wept.
One year after the school shooting that shocked the world, Coloradans paused on a sun-drenched spring day to mourn the loss and nurture the hope of Columbine High.
On Thursday, after a year of sorrow and anger, of questions with no answers, of wondering whether it would happen again, people from the churches of south Jefferson County to the green lawns of Clement Park and the marble steps of the state Capitol finally exhaled.
"Never again will it be less than a year after this horrible tragedy," said Darrell Scott, whose daughter Rachel was one of 13 killed by two murderous teen-age gunmen. "We have made it through the first year."
A year ago, Coloradans were bound together in horror, stunned not just by the killings but by their deliberateness, by the rage that lay behind the half-smiles of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold.
On Thursday, the 12 students and the teacher they killed were remembered in gestures large and small. In the wail of bagpipes at the Capitol, the peal of a bell at Clement Park, the football on Matt Kechter's gravestone, in Denver resident John Walton's trudging through the park just after 4 a.m. looking for the right spot to photograph the sunrise.
It was, he said, the symbol of a new day, a beginning.
"Each of us can make a difference," he said. "I know that's true, and it starts with just one step."
In the evening, hundreds of people prayed at Columbine neighborhood churches before streaming to Clement Park for a candlelight vigil attended by 8,000 to 10,000 people.
If there was a theme to the day, it was this: Take responsibility for who you are and how you treat people.
"Never, ever take your relationships for granted," Columbine teacher Lee Andres told an estimated 2,500 in an early-afternoon observance at Clement Park.
Tell your loved ones how you feel, he said.
"Don't wait another day. Don't wait another hour, because tomorrow may be too late."
At 11:21 a.m., one year to the moment after Harris and Klebold launched the worst school shooting in U.S. history, Gov. Bill Owens led the state in a moment of silence. Flags slid to half-staff. Bagpiper Michael Lancaster sent Amazing Grace floating across downtown Denver.
Owens stressed that this anniversary was a day to remember the victims of Columbine and their families, not two killers who "senselessly and viciously" took their lives.
"I ask you to continue to pray for the families of those who were taken from us far too early," he told about 300 outside the Capitol. "And I ask you to continue to pray for children all over the country, that they not see violence as an answer to their problems."
While public services unfolded, Columbine High School held a private tribute for its students and teachers. More than 1,000 students, teachers and former students packed the school gym.
Student Shannon Sykora sang Amazing Grace. Principal Frank DeAngelis shared the words of President Clinton.
"What happened in Littleton pierced the soul of America," Clinton said in a message to the community. "Though a year has passed, time has not dimmed our memory or softened our grief at the loss of so many whose lives were cut off in the promise of youth."
Sophomore Renee Kinsella, 16, said the assembly stirred sad memories but happy ones, too.
Debate team members chuckled when one recalled Dan Mauser's hated nickname, "Moose." A boy who stood Steven Curnow up for a movie recalled apologizing so many times that when they finally did get together, an exasperated Steven said: "It's OK. We're not on a date. Stop apologizing."
A teacher spoke of how she cried this year when her classroom got hot because it reminded her of how Kyle Velasquez always played with the thermostat.
'Have you ever wondered what thoughts would go through your head at the moment of your death?' Listen (0:31) Complete recording of Nielson's speech. Listen (5:05) Nielson's April 20, 1999 call to 911 dispatchers from Columbine's library. Listen (1:51) © 2000 Denver Rocky Mountain News
Complete recording of Nielson's speech. Listen (5:05)
Nielson's April 20, 1999 call to 911 dispatchers from Columbine's library. Listen (1:51)
"It was amazing," Kinsella said of the assembly. "People were laughing and crying and loving and missing. It was what they (the victims) would have wanted. They wouldn't have wanted us to sit there and cry."
Later, at a small gathering at the grave of Isaiah Shoels, Liz Keating shared fond memories of kicking him out of the library for talking too loud.
"I just have such incredible memories of your son," she told Michael and Vonda Shoels, her eyes swelling with tears. "Whenever he was in the library, his voice carried. He had five kids following him. When he sat down, the table was full of kids who loved being around him.
"The thing that bothered me is when someone said that Isaiah died in a library filled with hate. That's not true. The library was a place of love."
Many Columbine students and their families met in Clement Park just after midday for a memorial service. There, they joined others who sprawled on the lawn on a hill above the park lake.
Officials had announced earlier that up to 100,000 people might flood Clement Park. Rick Kaufman, a spokesman for Jefferson County schools, said that estimate was based on the crowd that attended ceremonies a year after the Oklahoma City bombing that killed 168 on April 19, 1995.
Some people in Clement Park were disappointed in the turnout.
"I'm not sure this affected the people on the other side of town the way it affected us," said travel agent Melanie Stelter, who took the day off to attend the anniversary service with her children. "To some people, this is just another day. This is not just another day here. This is not something you just get over in a year."
Not for the father who is still startled out of sleep, convinced for a moment that his son didn't make it out of the school after all. Or for Seth Shatsnider, 21, who hopped a bus from Burbank, Calif., on Tuesday to make the service but isn't really sure why.
"I can't get Columbine out of my head," he said. "I don't know. It's just stuck there."
The Clement Park service began with brothers Stephen and Jonathan Cohen singing their haunting anthem Friend of Mine for the last time in public. DeAngelis spoke twice, each time to rousing applause.
Every evening during the past year, he said, he has stood on his deck and looked at the sky, "searching for answers and inspiration."
He said he found comfort thinking about the dead.
"I imagined the stars were the victims' twinkling eyes," he said. "Their loving, caring souls never let me down.
"There were nights that rain fell, and I knew that our children who brutally lost their lives were crying because of the sorrow bestowed upon their families and our community.
"But, as today, their smiles gave us the sunshine that we needed."
Teacher Patti Nielson, who made the 911 phone call from the library during the shooting, left many in tears with her words.
"Have you ever wondered what thoughts go through your head at the moment of your death?" she asked.
Nielson told the crowd that as she curled up in a cupboard in the library, listening to the gunfire, expecting to die, she thought of her family and friends.
"Then a thought came to me that bothered me even more," she said. "I knew my family would grieve, but I did not want the circumstances of my death to make them bitter or angry. I did not want my children to grow up consumed with anger, absorbed in self-pity. I just wanted them to be happy whether I was there or not.
Nielson said this first anniversary was the first day that she "let go of the anger and allowed myself the peace that comes from acceptance and forgiveness and gave myself permission to be happy again."
But the emotions of renewal did not prevail everywhere Thursday.
Jefferson County Sheriff John Stone responded to nine lawsuits filed against his department in state and federal courts by 15 families of the dead and wounded. He said his deputies are reeling.
"They now have to defend themselves in ridiculous court actions," Stone said. "It is very upsetting to our whole agency."
Just blocks from Columbine High, Leawood Elementary School was a blissfully different place from last April 20.
Last year, Leawood was where some parents met up with their Columbine students, and others waited late into the night for children who never arrived.
On Thursday, Leawood was quiet. The lack of attention and media were fine with Alan Fettner, a third-grade teacher.
"I think it should always be remembered," Fettner said of Columbine. "But it's time to move on."
Columbine High's baseball team was moving on practicing at Coors Field at the invitation of the Colorado Rockies, who were on the road in Phoenix.
Though the day passed peacefully, bomb threats closed Aurora Hinkley High School and prompted the evacuation of Wheat Ridge Middle School. Tens of thousands of metro-area students skipped classes.
Schools in a half-dozen states closed after receiving threats linked to the anniversary.
After the public services at Clement Park, students and residents filed to the top of Rebel Hill and gazed down at the school. Some placed flowers. Some cried.
In the steadiness of the breeze, in the warmth of the sun, in the embrace of strangers, they found a moment of peace.
"It's in the spirit of the wind and the water and the breeze and the sun," said the Rev. Lucia Guzman of United Methodist Church. "It's a serene but sacred sense of mourning."
Contact Tina Griego at (303) 892-5129 or griegot@RockyMountainNews.com;
Karen Abbott at (303) 892-5188 abbottk@RockyMountainNews.com; and Holly Kurtz at (303) 892-5082 or kurtzh@RockyMountainNews.com.
April 21, 2000