Columbine High School

Despite much of what was written about Columbine in 1999, it was a wonderful school. I was fortunate to work with colleagues whom I respected and admired. I loved my students tremendously. They were generally well behaved, fun, and valued their education, as did their parents. Columbine wasn't perfect, but neither was it the bully-infested, total jock school that it has been made out to be. It was a typical suburban school filled with mostly good people with good hearts and good intentions. Mixed into that were the occasional bully, the same issues of alcohol and drugs that face any school, and the same emphasis on sports that one might expect in a society as caught up in athletic competition as ours is.

I don't know what went wrong. I don't know what went into the decision that Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold made. I always find it interesting that so many folks who weren't there and knew nothing about us prior to the shootings seem to know just what caused the tragedy, when I still haven't figured it out myself. This much I am sure of—if any one factor was the cause of school shootings (violence in the media, bullying, lack of spirituality, availability of guns, et cetera) then there would be far more shootings than there are. I have the feeling that the causes are deep and complex and vary somewhat with each incident.

People most often ask me whether or not I was there that day and whether or not I knew the victims or the shooters. Yes, I was there, but I left the building when the fire alarm sounded. Because I was in the far end of the building, I did not realize that it wasn't a fire drill until I got outside and was instructed by administrators to get the kids as far from the building as possible because there were kids with guns.

I was well acquainted with my colleague, Dave Sanders, who was killed as he acted heroically to save students' lives. He was a caring teacher and an enthusiastic coach. I taught Lauren Townsend for one semester in her freshman year. I vaguely remember her as a sweet and graceful girl. Isaiah Shoels was my student the year before the shootings in a year-long class that lasted for two hours each day. I remember him well. Academics were not his strong suit, but he was friendly, fun-loving, and a joy. As the forensics and debate teacher at Columbine, I had the privilege of working very closely with Dan Mauser for two years and Rachel Scott for one. Dan was bright, intensely curious, gentle, and unassuming. Rachel was open and loving, full of life. Not one day has passed since April 20 that I have not thought of those children and my colleague.

I taught Dylan Klebold for a semester several years before the shootings. My memories of him are nebulous. I can offer no insight into why he made the decision that he made.

As you can see, there really isn't enough material here for a book. All that I can say with any assurance is that we are vulnerable in our lives and there are no guarantees. I write romance because, despite the pain that I have experienced, the majority of my life's experiences have been joyful. While there are people who make evil choices and cause destruction, the vast majority of people I know are good hearted and creative in a multitude of ways. There are many issues that divide us in our society, but I believe that people of good intent can find common ground. I hope that my books will remind readers of the goodness of life and the strength of love.