“Parkland’s Day of Remembrance: Moments of Silence, Reflection and Grief”, The New York Times
By Patricia Mazzei, Feb.14, 2019
PARKLAND, Fla. — On a day nobody wanted to remember — or forget — several people in maroon T-shirts emblazoned with #MSDStrong found their way Thursday to a place of solace: a flower garden outside Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School that, at the first anniversary of one of the nation’s deadliest school shootings, has sprouted to celebrate life.
A paramedic planted flowers in little plastic pots. A woman knelt to drop off a bouquet. A teenager strummed his guitar and sang. Then, he wept.
At 10:17 a.m., the time the local school district set to commemorate the 17 lives lost on Feb. 14, 2018, a man took off his purple cap.
“Moment of silence,” he said.
The crowd bowed its head.
[Read how the Parkland massacre has changed the lives of the survivors in their own words.]
Thursday could not possibly be a normal day in Parkland, Fla., where a still-grieving community coped by embracing the pain of it all.
Stoneman Douglas scheduled a “day of service and love.” Teachers organized community service projects, but attendance was voluntary. School buses arrived in the morning nearly empty. After early dismissal, students with school IDs hanging around their necks — a requirement since the shooting — streamed by the flower garden. Most hugged. A few cried. Therapy dogs brought in to help students heal last year came back down from Philadelphia for the anniversary and frolicked around the teenagers’ legs.
“After here, we’re going to the beach,” said Julia Brighton, a 16-year-old sophomore who was in the first classroom attacked last year. Two of her best friends, Alyssa Alhadeff and Gina Montalto, were killed. So was her neighbor, Alex Schachter. Julia said she could not see herself going to school on Thursday — only spending time with friends.
“Whenever I’m alone, I get in my head. It’s like having a weight on you,” she said. “I surround myself with a lot of positive people.”
In the evening, hundreds of people attended an interfaith vigil at nearby Pine Trails Park, an echo of the one a year ago, when the sound of gunfire was still fresh. Some people held single red roses or white carnations, which in any other context would have symbolized Valentine’s Day, a holiday that in this community may never be the same.
“Valentine’s Day has forever changed for us,” said the Rev. Randy Cutter of the Church by the Glades in Coral Springs, a town neighboring Parkland. “But it’s still about love — not romantic love, but the love that we have in our hearts for one another.”
Tears were plentiful, but so were the warm greetings among friends and neighbors happy to at least be together. As the sun went down, a crowd, hushed except for the sound of sniffles, listened to the victims’ names recited from stage.
Many of the victims’ families made a joint public appearance on Wednesday after meeting with Gov. Ron DeSantis. Some of the families have pushed for the state to hold more local officials accountable for what happened.
“They’ve had a year to fix Broward County and make our schools safer,” said Max Schachter, Alex’s father. “This is ground zero, and they continue to fail us.”
But Mr. DeSantis, who suspended former Sheriff Scott Israel last month over his handling of the shooting, told them he will not remove Superintendent Robert W. Runcie of the Broward County Public Schools because Mr. Runcie is appointed by elected school board members — several of whom were re-elected last fall. Instead, Mr. DeSantis asked the Florida Supreme Court to impanel a grand jury to investigate security across the state’s public school districts, with a focus on Broward.
President Trump pledged on Wednesday to keep schools safe. “Our entire nation mourns for the victims and their loved ones,” he told a sheriffs’ association.
Outside Stoneman Douglas on Thursday, news crews lined up to broadcast from the scene. Survivors suffering from the lingering effects of trauma had asked that media helicopters, whose rotors trigger reminders of the day of the shooting, stay away, and they did.
“I haven’t been able to drive down this street for a year,” said Gibson Sylvestre, a Parkland resident whose sister graduated from Stoneman Douglas in the late 1990s. “Today I said, ‘You know what? If all these kids can come here, then I can come here.’ It’s been devastating.”
“It’s a very emotional day,” said Mirella Ortiz, 39, who brought her three young children to the memorial garden to pay their respects. The family moved to Parkland for its excellent public schools — especially Stoneman Douglas — and Ms. Ortiz’s younger sister was a senior on the day of the shooting. “She wanted to be home today,” she said. “And we chose to be here.”
Some students gathered for private moments of remembrance. Ronit Reoven, an advanced placement psychology teacher who lost one student, Carmen Schentrup, and had three others injured, had to pick up platters for a picnic that her students from that day organized at a nearby park. The group has gathered periodically over the past year, over doughnuts, sushi and Mexican food, she said.
“Someone can say, ‘I had a bad dream,’ and they all get each other,” Ms. Reoven said.
Her departure to the picnic kept getting delayed by reporters asking about the memorial garden she planted with one of her students, Tori Gonzalez, and by students and parents wrapping her in bear hugs. “I just can’t believe it’s been a year, because it still feels fresh,” she said.
Jon Faber, 50, reminded others in the community that Ms. Reoven, 47, saved the life of his son’s best friend: She tied a tourniquet on Ben Wikander’s arm using a baby blanket she used in her classroom to cover a Keurig coffee machine.
“It’s not normal, for 17 people to die in school,” Mr. Faber said.
Another one of his son’s friends, Sammy Feuerman, 18, who graduated from Stoneman Douglas last year, drove down from Florida State University in Tallahassee to be in Parkland for the anniversary. “I just felt I needed to be here,” he said.
Sometimes he wears Stoneman Douglas T-shirts in college and “people nod their heads in respect,” Mr. Feuerman said. “I used to say I’m from Fort Lauderdale, I’m from Boca, because no one knew Parkland. Now I say Parkland.”
The anniversary made Mr. Feuerman reminisce about the day before the shooting, which was the last time he played basketball with Joaquin Oliver before he was killed. Days after that, Mr. Feuerman had made his way to the State Capitol to implore lawmakers to tighten Florida’s gun laws. Now, he’s studying criminology, a decision he made after the shooting.
“I definitely want to do something where I can prevent bad things from happening,” he said. “People should know that Douglas and Parkland are not going away anytime soon.”