Interviews were conducted by these reporters: Karen Abbott, Charley Able, Tustin Amole, Mike Anton, Charlie Brennan, Carla Crowder, Marlys Duran, John Ensslin, Tillie Fong, Dick Foster, Deborah Frazier, Joe Garner, Gary Gerhardt, Manny Gonzales, Tina Griego, Hector Gutierrez, Burt Hubbard, Ann Imse, Bob Jackson, Sue Lindsay, Gary Massaro, Kevin McCullen, Mike Patty, M.E. Sprengelmeyer, Jean Torkelson, Kevin Vaughan and Brian Weber.

Some have discovered a fear they never had. Some were moved to re-examine their faith, or their tolerance toward others. Some looked deep inside and asked a hard question: What can I do to prevent it from happening again?

And many simply hugged their children harder.

In the wake of last month's killings at Columbine High School, the Denver Rocky Mountain News asked 100 people how the massacre has changed their lives.

One theme that comes up again and again is a desire to connect with children.

"The first thing I've learned is you can't be too involved in your child's life," one man said.

Today. And tomorrow, too.

"I just hope," another said, "we don't forget this soon."

This begins an ongoing examination of a community searching for solutions.

Here is a selection of the responses.

Nancy Bachlet, 35, is a reporter for the Westminster Window.

"The day after it happened, when I put my 6-year-old son on the school bus -- something I really didn't want to do -- I promised up one side and down the other that his school was safe.

"When he got to school, the first thing his teacher told the kids was what to do if an armed gunman comes into the classroom.

"He came home so mad at me. He felt I had lied to him and sent him someplace that wasn't safe. In essence, what Harris and Klebold did was destroy a level of trust between my son and myself.

"I have reinforced and re-emphasized what I had already been trying to teach him about violence and how to treat others. And I just try to talk to him more, and listen more."

Jeremy Smith, 28, of Englewood, is a disc jockey for KRFX-FM radio and a ticket salesman for Ticketmaster.

"The first thing I've learned is you can't be too involved in your child's life. With me working two jobs, it makes it rough.

"With Cassie Bernall (the student who was killed after acknowledging her faith in God), I couldn't say the same thing about my belief. Since then, I've been seeking the advice of friends who believe in God, and reconsidering religion."

Michelle Graf, 36, is a therapist at Craig Hospital. Columbine is less than a mile from her home -- the school her two boys, 3 and 6, may one day attend.

"I just ran home and grabbed my kids and hugged them. It made me more appreciative of my kids.

"It also made me aware of my community, more attuned to our neighborhood. It made me want to become more involved -- not just with the needs of our kids but with the needs of all the kids in the neighborhood."

Donna Legaard, 35, director of the LoDo Learning Center in Denver, is the mother of three children ages 3, 5 and 7.

"They were so worried. My 5-year-old said, 'Mommy, I hope when I go to high school somebody doesn't come in the school and hurt someone.'

"I always knew you had to talk to your kids about drugs and alcohol and sex and stuff like that. Now, I realize you also have to talk to them about guns and violence and that they could possibly be hurt at school.

"I'm going to tell them that they have to be careful. That you have to be nicer to people. The ultimate motive, I guess, is that you don't want people who could hurt them to get mad at them. Isn't that sad?"

John Dunning, 59, of Aurora, is the author of The Bookman's Wake.

He worries about the proliferation of pornography and violence on the Internet and the role that played in the shootings.

"Columbine has changed me in darker ways than I like. I've always believed in the Bill of Rights and in the freedoms that we have. But we have become such an ugly, nasty civilization that I really have begun to wonder whether we are worthy of things like freedom of speech. I hate to see myself going that way, but sometimes I feel like I can't help it.

"I think we're becoming an insane society. I don't know what we can do. I read a lot of stuff in the paper about how we have to listen to kids. That's just a platitude. They've got to get these awful weapons out of the hands of these kinds of people."

Amy Hovland, 28, is director of the before-school and after-school care program at Kyffin Elementary School in Golden.

"On the Thursday after it happened, we put out paper, stickers, color, clay and let the kids express themselves however they wanted. Most of them chose to create something for the Columbine memorial. Some of them took an hour to get it just perfect. I remember one little kid asking me, 'How do you spell tragedy?'

"That day will be one of the fondest memories that I will take with me -- the day those kids showed their true feelings of love and compassion for people they didn't even know."

Jeannie Vanvelkinburgh, 38, of Denver, was shot and paralyzed when she came to the aid of an African immigrant in downtown Denver.

"The shootings just scared me very deeply. If my child was in that school, I would have found a way to get in there.

"It's going to be hard for some of those who were injured. It's going to be a different way of life, but it's life.

"I know I'm going to keep on going and I'm going to get better. I'm going to get a job and I'm going to make myself a better person. We can overcome anything if we can keep a strong heart."

Julie Mecham, 18, of Aurora is a junior at Smoky Hill High School.

She looks for "signs" now.

"I look more towards people. Like, would they? Could they do that? I've kind of lost trust. School's kind of uncomfortable."

She has become more cautious, more courteous.

"I watch more what I say. It's maybe nothing to you but it might really hurt someone else on the inside."

Still, she's cautious on her terms.

"I'm going to live. I'm not going to stay inside and hide. You have to live your life."

Shannon Clark, 30, of Littleton, is a senior account executive with MGA Commuunications.

Clark's big, quick smile gives her away.

"I really enjoy helping people."

Now more than ever.

"I've tried to be more helpful to other people and be kinder. It's so easy to get caught up with the trivial things of life, parking problems, traffic jams.

"That's not what it's all about. I definitely look at life differently. It's more precious. You never know when it's taken away."

Lance Burkett, 29, of Highlands Ranch, is a financial examiner with the National Association of Security Dealers. He's also a member of the Columbine Class of '88.

"The thing I've seen mostly is it really brought our class together. As soon as this happened I got hundreds of e-mails from people I hadn't talked to in 10 years.

The shootings changed his outlook.

"It makes you more open to all people. It makes you more tolerant of everyone. That's the best thing I can pass on to anyone, to my unborn kids. We should be more tolerant and accept other people's differences."

Megan Zepeda, 35, of Denver, offers day care for children in her east Denver home. She has four children of her own.

She's at home -- days and nights -- to feed, comfort, discipline, teach and guide her children in her Catholic beliefs.

Her life makes more sense since the killings.

"It's validated what I'm doing. I think family has really gone by the wayside. I think religion is really important and that's a big problem. We've lost a lot of religion and that's hard on people."

She will do more of what she's been doing: keeping an eye on her kids and loving them.

"I think people allow their kids to have too much privacy and autonomy in their homes. Then they blame schools, but that's not fair."

Diana Davis, 48, of Lakewood, is a caterer, college student and mother of three.

"You don't feel as secure. You feel more vulnerable. It's like the weight of the world, every so often it knocks you around a little to remind you things aren't always fair or just or even understandable.

"We have talked a lot more with our kids about people being so angry and how it isn't good."

Billie Furuichi, 55, Lakewood, is youth ministries director at Mile High Church of Religious Science.

"When I realized it was affecting me deeply was the first time they (TV) showed the pictures of the people who had died. That's when I started to get real weepy. I realized that all of the kids in that school were really representative of the kids who go to our teen church.

"That was when I knew I really had to do something. We are opening the doors to our teen center every afternoon from 3 p.m. to 5 p.m. We had almost a mad-house rush to get some volunteers to help us and we got about 40 people on a list.

"We were motivated by the disaster to really do something positive, to pull together an afternoon program for kids."

Laurie Clark, 49, Northglenn, is public relations manager for Cenikor Foundation Inc. and a volunteer victims advocate.

She worked with relatives of the Columbine students that Tuesday. The next day, she had to notify one family that their child had died.

"I'm still not over it. I'm so, so saddened by this.

"I make sure that everyone that I care about knows how important they are to me. To try to live my life to the fullest and to stop caring about petty little things. To do my best in every aspect of my life.

"Because that's what matters when you get to the end of the line. It's not who has the best car or the most toys, but whether you've made a difference."

Lisa Gonzales, 35, Lakewood, is a group leader at a Lakewood day-care center and the mother of Jimmy, a Jefferson County high school freshman.

"It really scared me. We are talking more to Jimmy about his feelings about it and the anxiety he has felt since it happened. He is real nervous about going to school now and worries about 'What if it happens at my school.'

"The parents have been talking about it a lot more and expressing their feelings about what they would like to see happen.

"One of the things that came up is maybe it would be a good idea for all high school students to have parenting classes so they would understand what is involved in raising a child."

She plans to suggest the classes to her son's principal as well as the Jefferson County school board.

Margaret Carpenter, 68, a retired teacher and assistant school superintendent, is mayor of Thornton.

"Something has definitely changed in our society in the past 20 or 30 years to allow this kind of thing to happen. I don't mean to place blame. I am just wondering if there is anything I could have done, or anyone could have done.

"All of us need to take a long hard look at whether we are doing all we can for our young people."

Lori Hernandez, 33, of Arvada, runs her own company, which helps parents find quality child care. She and her husband have two sons in Jefferson County schools, one 14 and one 8.

"We've had real lengthy discussions on rock music. We went to a church service about rock music and video games.

"My 14-year-old feels everyone has some anger and rage about things that happen during the day, and for him the music is a release."

Dr. Jeffrey Hurst, 43, a dentist who lives in Golden and owns a practice in Lakewood, has two children in Jefferson County schools.

"The biggest way this has affected me is the impact it has had on my kids, their feeling that no matter what they do they will never be safe.

"Eight days after Columbine, Pomona had a bomb threat. It panicked everyone. I explained to my son that there can't be that many crazy people in the world who would actually do something like that. But that very night a kid got shot in a school up in Canada.

"I don't want to see our schools become like a prison under lockdown. I also don't want my kids to be afraid of everyone who looks different.

"I don't want a world where we sacrifice individuality for a false sense of security. I have just tried to talk to my kids and listen to their concerns."

Bill Whitfield, 38, of Denver, is a security guard supervisor.

"I'm leaving Colorado for one, as soon as possible. Because I do not think Colorado is a good place to raise children. I'm moving to rural Tennessee.

"I'm also going to work harder for the legalization of marijuana, because if kids had access to soft drugs they'd be less stressed out.

"And I'm getting rid of all my weapons. I used to go to gun shows, and believed in basic NRA philosophy, but from now on if I have anything in my house it'll be a baseball bat in case of an intruder."

Susan Rosser, 49, is a geologist who lives in unincorporated Arapahoe County.

She and her husband have stopped letting their 17-year-old son, Drew, play paintball, a war game using paint instead of bullets. They also refuse to let him watch The Matrix, a violent sci-fi movie, even though some of his friends have seen it several times.

"It has made our family look in the mirror and really analyze some of the things we haven't questioned before. Things that maybe we allowed before, we're not allowing now."

Derek Passarelli, 36, of south Jefferson County, is an attorney. He also coaches a soccer team of girls from Leawood and Powderhorn elementary schools.

He moved his family back home to Colorado from Washington, D.C., because he thought it was a safer place for his 9-year-old daughter. Then came Columbine.

"Boy, did that destroy some basic beliefs that I held to be true.

"I guess the one thing that it woke me up to is that I better start being more aware of other people's children and helping them out.

"One of the first things I did was fill out my volunteer form for the Children's Legal Center again."

Ellen Glover, 45, is a Web editor at the University of Colorado at Boulder.

Glover and her husband, Kent, are active in a Boy Scout troop that includes many students who were in Columbine when the terror erupted.

"They've been traumatized by it," she said. "We made a commitment as a family to stay the course and support our friends.

"We're going to try to get more families involved and show them that scouting has something to offer the community."

Michele Skinrood, 47, of Westminster, is a clerical assistant with a daughter at Northglenn High.

"Your concerns and priorities change. Lisa came home and sat in front of the TV and watched it. She later told me that two fliers were found at her school saying the Trench Coat Mafia would hit Northglenn next.

"I feel like I'd like to move to Utah, but I know I wouldn't be any safer there.

"The real fault lies with the parents. You see all this road rage in adults who are teaching their children it's all right to take out their anger in this manner."

49, public relations director of the American Numismatic Association in Colorado Springs.

"This makes me wonder even more why there are so many guns. It just brought that home to me. You want to know what guns look like in school? That's what guns look like in school."

Mike Salardino, 49, a stockbroker, is a board member of the Pueblo Boys and Girls Clubs and vice president of the Child Advocacy Center in Pueblo.

"I plan to be much more vocal as an advocate of discipline in schools -- and I'm talking about everything from dress codes to the way they treat one another -- reduction of violence in televison, movies and video games, curtailment of accessibility to automatic weapons.

"I think there should be more parental responsibility. We have too many spoiled-brat yuppie parents that don't want to raise their children. I couldn't have hid a pack of cigarettes from my parents, let alone assault weapons and bombs.

"I don't think parents are paying attention to their children, and if they're not going to, then society has to start paying attention."

John Yee, 78, of Denver, is a retired teacher and head of the Denver-Kunming Sister City Committee. He serves on a Denver Rotary Club committee on youth.

"We really need to take stock of where we're going, if we really want to have a happier life in this world and more security.

"Are we willing to make some sacrifices to do the right thing? Maybe we need to pay more attention to other people, to learn to give more of our time, and share our feelings to help other people.

"I will try to find kids who need guidance and help. And I would like to see this society have the gumption to repeal the Second Amendment and get rid of the guns.

"The reason evil (prevails) is because good people don't do anything."

Jim Casperson, 51, is a business consultant from Littleton. His twin daughters, Kelly and Kerry, are juniors at Columbine High School.

"It changes your perspective on life. I consider myself very lucky, and I just absolutely hurt for those families (whose children were killed).

"It scared the crud out of me, but after it was all over, the support of friends and family and people I didn't know was absolutely incredible. When I went to King Sooopers Wednesday morning, I got hugs from all the checkers.

"I hug my kids more, and I called other people in the community to see if they needed help. I went to a member of the SWAT team and thanked him.

Casperson is volunteering as treasurer of Art for the Heart Foundation, a non-profit group.

"My job is to make sure we go down the right path and we spend the money that's raised the right way. We do it from the heart."

Lou Lopez, 67, of Denver, is a retired police lieutenant and former commander of the gang unit.

"It made me sick and ill. You have to be cold-blooded son of a gun not to have some emotional trauma as a result of it."

He renewed his commitment to keep working with youth. But it also hit home how tough it is to come to grips with youth violence.

"There are experts that have far greater knowledge than a lot of us do, but even they have not been able to come up with a solution."

Jessica Busick, 15, attends a Jefferson County high school and works part time at a Taco Bell.

She bought a blue and silver teddy bear and left it at the Clement Park memorial site. And she has stopped kidding around about violence -- "Saying things like 'Oh my God, he's going to kill me!' You can't joke like that any more because somebody might actually think that there's something going wrong.

"I don't think we'll ever be able to do it again, that joking. I don't mind."

Sumiko Hennesey, 61, of Aurora, is executive director of the Asia Pacific Development Center.

"When I was 7 years old in Japan, we were coming back from the rural area. One stray American plane came over, saw a group of children going home, and he dived at us and shot at us. We all ran for cover. I was not injured but whenever I hear a plane, I sweat. And children being shot at -- that's an image that I always carry with me.

"The majority of our programs at the center are aimed at adults, but we're shifting to youth, especially to develop peer counselors among kids.

"Adults don't have any relationships with some of these kids. Maybe through (peer counselors) we can have entree to these students. In our training for peer counselors, up to now, we looked at trying to avoid alcohol and drugs, but now we will refocus on violence and alienation."

Sharon Docherty, 30, of Lafayette, is an elementary school music teacher.

"As a teacher, it makes me realize that there is a lot more that's expected of us than just dealing in academics.

"Somehow, because of the Columbine incident, the role of teacher is now spotlighted as being multifaceted. I feel that there's this expectation now for teachers to be protectors as well as educators, psychologists as well as teachers."

Bill Howard, 44, is a consultant who lives in Boulder.

"I think that, if there was any innocence left in the world, it certainly took a hit right in the heart.

"You could hear it ripping your soul out, your innocence, your faith. It just trashed them. The challenge is to somehow rekindle the hope.

"You have to work through other people to help young people in some ways, through service activities. Because obviously, kids these days have more going on than we ever did when I was that age."

Howard did one thing right away.

"It made me change my prayers. It made me pray for those families."

Nancee Martin-Coffey, 45, is a seminarian in Boulder.

"It has encouraged me to be more thoughtful about people who are marginalized. And, in conversing with my (four) children, it has caused me to talk about befriending all sorts of people, to enter into conversations with them about people who are usually pushed aside, to be more thoughtful about who is in and who is out."

Grace Brock, 41, of Lakewood, is a jazz singer and composer. She was so moved by the killings that she wrote The Strangling Weed.

"It asks questions like how does this happen.

"We have all committed acts of anger. Now, I'm more aware of it. Whatever seed you plant, it's going to grow. It starts in ways that seem subtle, but if left unchecked, it grows into a searing hatred, a strangling weed."

Sister Elizabeth Bornhoft, 77, Denver, is a Roman Catholic nun. She runs a program called Quest for Peace to help young people respect and love themselves, others and God.

"It has made me more determined to reach our young people with the truth, and let them know that God loves them.

"I'm more determined to further the family pledge of non-violence."

Diana Barnhill, 46, of Castle Rock, is a business administrator in a Lakewood dental office.

"People are so cruel to each other. If they just would bite their tongue and allow other people to be who they are, some of the anger wouldn't happen.

"I hope it makes people more ready to reach out, as opposed to hiding in their houses and isolating themselves in fear and suspicion.

"Trust is a hard thing. You have to believe in your fellow man."

Cody Stephenson, 17, attends a Jefferson County high school.

"I kept thinking how sad it was. And I was kind of confused about why they would do that.

"Now, I'm more aware of who's around and what they're doing -- at school, and just anywhere, I guess. And I'm careful not to criticize people -- especially people who are, like, secluded. I'm more careful not to criticize people just because they're different from me."

Pedro Saenz, 44, is a senior software engineer who lives in Aurora.

"What if this had happened at my granddaughter's elementary? That child is my life.

"I turn the TV off a little more. We sit around together and we play board games a little more. You enjoy every minute a little more."

Dee Wisor, 47, is an attorney who lives in Arapahoe County.

"I happen to have two weapons in my house left over from hunting with my father as a young man, and I guess I see no reason to keep them anymore.

"I kept them for sentimental reasons, but now I'm looking for a way to get rid of them. That's my little contribution."

Barb Vogel, 48, of Denver, is an elementary school teacher.

"It makes me even more determined to teach children to balance their minds and their hearts. It makes me even more determined to teach models of tolerance.

"I plan to continue my daily fight, a mission to awaken children to their social consciousness.

"I live under the philosophy of 'Do small things with great love."'

Toni Lopez, 25, of Thornton, works as a data entry processor. She has two daughters, 4 and 1.

"It will affect me as far as sending my children to public school. I'm thinking twice about that.

"I would do it basically for their safety and knowing at least in a private school, even though they have to wear uniforms and stuff, it'll be safer and it'll cut teasing and all that other stuff back."

Calixto Ortiz, 48, of Denver, who works as a food distributor, is the father of four, ages 21, 15, and 5-year-old twins.

"We probably will be closer and appreciate our kids more and spend more time with them, because you don't realize that kind of thing can happen.

"Sometimes you get so busy with your jobs and you don't spend enough time with your kids and you don't talk to them about their lives."

Viviana Carbajal, 14, of Denver, is a freshman at West High School.

"It already affected my school as soon as it happened. I was shocked along with everyone else. We didn't even have school the next day.

"When we finally returned to school, we were like in a prison. Every time you had to go into the building you had to show your identification. There was one entrance and everybody had to go through there. Security was at all the doors. No trench coats. You had to be in class, no passes.

"I pray when I go to church every Sunday, and during the week I prayed. It's like you can't really avoid anything like that. All you can do is be careful and hope for the best."

Sally Hopper, 64, former state senator from Golden and grandmother of five.

"I was absolutely out of commission for a couple of days, like a loss in the family."

Since, Hopper has been "maybe living each day a little fuller. I called a friend, an old friend in Tennessee, who has been diagnosed with cancer. You realize you don't want to lose track of friends or let time pass you by. All of a sudden, you realize how fragile life is."

Lontine Chavez, 59, of Denver, co-owns Hair People, a hair salon in Cherry Creek North.

He said the shootings "make me a much stronger advocate for gun control."

"I just hope we don't forget this soon."

Jon Caldara, 34, of Boulder, is president of the Independence Institute, a free-market think tank in Golden, and a talk show host on 850 KOA.

The political impact, which halted relaxation of concealed-weapons laws in Colorado, was "absolutely devastating," he said. "It was unreasonable."

"In the world of public policy, people use tragedies like this to promote emotional political causes. Chasing out the NRA because of this shooting was an emotional reaction, not a reasonable response."

Colline Owens, 36, of Aurora, manages a dry cleaning store and has a 3-year-old.

"I'm going to be paranoid to let my child go to school by himself. If it's this violent now, how is it going to be by the time my child goes to school? I just think it's going to be a cold, cold world we live in."

Kendra Kitashima, 18, is a senior at Highlands Ranch High School.

"I'm more scared that the way I look at a person may be taken wrong. I'm careful of what I say to people. Going back to school the next day felt different. You look at people and think, 'What if?' The ones who did this looked normal, too.

"I'm trying to be extra nice to everybody. I used to talk about people all the time but now I'll keep my opinions to myself. I'm careful how I look at a person.''

Jerry Lewis, 71, Cherry Hills, works in the oil industry.

"Primarily, it's made me aware of how precious our families are. And I go along with the observation that when spiritual values and God were taken out of the schools, what replaced them was violence and immoral behavior."

Lewis and his wife do volunteer work for a group called Young Life, which shares the Gospel with school-aged children.

"I've been motivated to put more efforts into that. I will certainly try to get more Young Life alumni involved again in helping kids."

Beth Pfalmer, 50, of Denver, is director of Work and Family Resource Center, a state agency that provides support to families and children.

"I will never, ever again, take lightly the comment that parenting is a really hard job. I will offer support and understanding and, hopefully, help. In the elevators, in the parking lots, in casual encounters.

"And one more thing, I live near a junior high and an elementary school and I'm the goofy lady who speaks to every child I see. I ask questions like, 'How are you doing?' 'How's school?' 'Are you hanging in there?' I will continue to speak to every child I see.

"Most of us ignore children and half of us are afraid of them, and, you know what? They are just great kids who need our attention, every single one of them."

Marilynn Force, mid-40s, of Wheat Ridge, is director of the Small Business Development Center at the Boulder Chamber of Commerce.

"The thing that strikes me the most is that in our culture there is no forgiveness. We are a real driven culture. People are so busy and so driven that they have forgotten that people need to learn and make mistakes and be forgiven for them."

Michelle McInturf, 37, of Aurora, is a sales clerk.

"Sometimes we take our kids for granted. I usually give both my kids a kiss goodbye. Now I make sure I do it every day.

"I kiss them and I hug them and I tell them I love them."

Jon Huddleston, 28, of Castle Rock, co-owns Douglas County Guns in Castle Rock.

"It does cause you to look at kids that come in just looking. It causes you to look at them maybe a little more suspicious.

"There have been kids that come in and say, 'Why can't you sell it to me?' I've said, 'You could give me a million dollars and there's no way I'm going to sell you the firearm."'

Jim Wallendorf, 58, of Castle Rock, is principal of ThunderRidge High School in Highlands Ranch.

"I am being a lot more observant of students in a positive way. I'm looking at kids who may be lonely or sad or by themselves and I'm trying to be a friend to them.

"There was a lot of horror that happened, but it also started pointing out that there are a lot of lonely people out there.

"Most and most and most won't do anything to harm another person, but they're in a lot of pain."

John De la Hoz, 32, of Denver, runs an Internet marketing business.

He has been saying extra prayers for victims, their families and friends. And he volunteered to create a web site for the group Family Support Networks, which supports fire and law enforcement personnel facing their own emotions from what they saw at Columbine.

"I figured it was something I could do to help out. You see all these people hurt and you wish you could help them."

Chris Walter, 39, of Lakewood, is a home day care provider.

"I'm a Brownie leader and one of my moms asked me what to do about it. I said I didn't know, that there's just no way to control it, no easy answers.

"I don't know what to do with my own kids except pray for them to make it through school. My first thought was home school. Just pull them out.

"But I really think it comes down to respect. I think we're losing respect for ourselves, our parents, our elders, everything around us in general.

"I'm going to help my children learn to respect the people and things that are around them by my example and taking more time with them, working with them, being more patient with them."

Larry Weisberg, 55, of Boulder, is leaving CU, where he taught advertising for six years, to return to the advertising business in the East.

He contacted 15 people in the advertising industry to set up a medical account for one of the injured Columbine students.

"I'm trying to look at things in a more tolerant fashion. The Dali Lama came to Boulder a few years ago and I read the text of his speech in the paper. He talked about tolerance and respect for other people. That's what is missing.

"I know some people who say they aren't going to change or others who think the media is covering this too much, but I'm trying to do something that is right for me."

Lush B. Lofton, 77, is a retired construction worker who lives in Denver.

When Lofton was growing up, people weren't shy about getting after youngsters who got into trouble.

"People -- your neighbors -- if your dad or mother wasn't there, and they saw you doing something wrong, they would speak to you."

Lofton plans to be more vigilant with the youngsters around him, and with his four grandchildren.

Janet Ruli, 31, of Denver, is a cocktail waitress.

The Columbine shootings reinforced a decision Ruli had already made: She won't have children.

It also reminded the native of New Orleans that she can't escape violence, no matter where she goes.

Barbara Allen, 61, a Navajo Indian, is a retired teacher who lives in Aurora.

"I'm not one that cries. But this brought tears to my eyes. I thought about my two grown daughters who live in California with their husbands and my three grandchildren.

"I decided that I will visit with them more than I have in the past because the way things are today, tomorrow is not promised.

"Being a retired school teacher also made me want to volunteer more of my time with youth organizations."

Randy Cravens, 34, of Denver, is program manager for the Cole-Beacon Program at Cole Middle School, an after-school program for youth.

"We used to have sterotypes of what kind of kids were the most dangerous. And now I have reorganized my thoughts about what kind of kids are capable of being as destructive as the gang-bangers.

"I'm doing a double take with these white kids with their ears pierced and tattoos. I'm now doing the same thing when I see white kids walking down the street as whites do when they see black kids. I cross the street because they might snap. I look at them in the grocery store like 'Is he one?'

"I don't look at them like punks anymore. I look at them as potential Columbine students walking around, because you just don't know. Their incomes didn't matter and their skin colors didn't matter."

Jeff Martinez, 29 of Aurora, is a public affairs representative at Kaiser Permanente.

"My brother Matthew will be 13 soon. It underscores the importance of being involved in his life. Being there for him when he has concerns or questions. Play a more active role in his life, be his support and help build his foundation.

"The incident also made me think, 'Am I tolerant of people? Am I going out of may way to make people feel comfortable and feel valued daily? Am I reaching out to kids or reaching out in my community?'

"Those are the kinds of things that we only look at when there is a tragedy. We need to build a spirit of selflessness and uplift people when they fall down."