This is by far one of the most emotional post I've have ever written. If you've been following HOH for a while, you know that I try to keep the blog as real as possible, writing about the all the fun adventures we have as well as all the life fails that have made us stumble along the way. So as much as I want to continue to write about our life, I cannot without having to address such a sad moment that occurred in the city we call home. Let me start by saying that this is not about an eye witness account or mourning the lost of a loved one. In fact my life hasn't changed since that moment. I have to be honest, aside from the week that followed, my life has moved along as normal. So I'm sure you're wondering why I have even bothered dedicating an entire post to this moment. Well because I want my children to have a place to go to when they are old enough to understand what that moment in time meant, to me, to our family, to our city.
October 1st was a great day. It was spent with friends and enjoying the day with kids laughing and playing. So for it to end so tragically makes looking back on that day that much harder. But shortly after ten o'clock, Rory and I were sitting on the couch downstairs. We had just finished reading a book and I was telling him to head up to bed. Randy and Rian were already upstairs waiting for us. And just then I heard loud sirens going down the street. I told Rory to quiet for a moment and he asked if I was listening to the sirens. I said yes. The sirens seemed to go on longer than any other sirens I've heard before, but since they didn't seem to be getting louder or closer, I didn't alarm me. And soon the sirens disappeared off in the distance. Our Sunday night stayed on track like any other Sunday night and we tucked the kiddos into bed and kissed them goodnight. Randy fell asleep shortly after and I laid in bed catching up on emails and social media. It was close to eleven o'clock when I read a post on Facebook stating something to the affect of
Please say prayers for my cousin, they are stuck in a hotel and there is a mass shooting. Wait. What? My heart starting racing, I checked the police scanner website of the strip and yes it was true. I jumped out of bed and turned the TV on and there it was
BREAKING NEWS. My mom started texting me and we began exchanging texts about how awful this was. Let me stop for just a second and tell you all that I have been expecting something like this for some time. I thought it would be an international terrorist attack. I'm very aware that Las Vegas is perceived as a place where morals are left at home in exchanged for the time of your life. But even though I thought this could happen, I never thought that what I was seeing on the TV would be reality. I know how could I expect this and still not believe it when it happened? No one can prepare you for something like this. I eventually woke Randy up once I could gain some perspective on what was happening. I kept checking on Facebook for any updates and the full scope of the event came crashing down on me when I got a Facebook alert stating that an event page had been created because of the shooting and that I should let my loved ones know that I'm safe.
Huh? Of course I'm safe. I'm sitting at home watching this unfold. I stared at the Facebook screen for what feels like forever.
Facebook is crazy. I don't need to check in that I'm safe. But then I started to think about all my friends who I didn't know were safe. I assumed they were, but what if they weren't. What if one of them decided to go to the concert and just didn't know about it? What ifs ran though my head and so I decided to mark myself safe and just in case someone was wondering, I then wrote that Randy and the kids were also safe. I sat there by myself until one o'clock watching and listening and trying to make sense of what was happening. When the news was no longer reporting anything new, I retreated back to bed exhausted. At 6:45 I woke up to texts asking if I was ok, was Randy ok. Texts from friends started to come in asking if we were going to send Rory to school. Randy said NO. No he was not going to school and neither was Rian. The school district called stating that school was still in session for Monday but all absences would be excused. Rory woke up a little after eight and came into our room where Randy and myself were sitting in bed trying to work through everything we knew up until that point. I told Rory he was going to stay home that day. He asked why. I said that a very bad man did a very bad thing last night and school said it was ok if he stayed home. He then asked,
Is my school safe? I remember feeling heartbroken by his question. I said yes. I was in shock as I spent the day checking Facebook to see that all my friends were safe, and answering text messages. Shock was all I felt as the city I have called home for 14 years became the backdrop of every news report. Monday night it hit me as the ones that lost their lives became known, their faces, their stories, their loved ones that had to pick up the pieces. And it was then I realized that the sirens Rory and I had heard the night before were the fighter trucks from our neighborhood firehouse responding to the calls from the shooting. It was that day that I learned that someone from my hometown had lost her life, someone from my hometown was shot in the head and miraculously survived, someone from my hometown and I knew in high school was one of the lucky ones that escaped physically unharmed. That was the night that the only two cities I have called home were reeling from this senseless act. That's how massive and devastating the night before was. And I spent the next few days emotionally and physically drained, sleep deprived and heartbroken. But it's not the emotional toll that this took on me that I want my children to know. I want them to know that there is more good in this world than bad. And without the bad, we cannot appreciate the good. One does not exist without the other.
In the days that followed stories upon stories poured out about strangers risking their own lives to help others. But the story I will never forget is not from a concert goer, but of someone that lives near us and is part of our community. A Facebook post went out from someone near us searching for the person who had stolen his truck that night. He knew that his truck transported someone to the hospital and then later left his truck in a parking lot not far from the festival site. His post said the following along with a photo of his truck:
"To the person who stole my truck from Route 91 to haul a friend to the hospital I am not mad. Would do the same thing if I had to I would just like my keys back please. I don't even care that the back seats ruined. You ditched the truck at town square in from of Stoney. Will even buy you dinner and give you your cowboy hat back."
The guy found the person who stole his truck and learned that 20-30 people were transported to the hospital that night. The country would later learn who this person was, he was featured on 48 hours for his heroic actions and later was offered a free truck from an Arizona dealership. But it's not the guy on 48 hours that I want my kids to know about, it's the Las Vegas local that offered to buy the guy dinner for his actions. I want the kids to know about the hundreds of people that jumped into action and spent their day waiting in line to donate blood and hundreds that delivered food and water to those in line. I want the kids to know about the businesses around the valley that forfeited profits to provide services and food to anyone who needed them. So when I hear or see #VegasStrong, that is what I want them to think about.
I visited the crosses at the Las Vegas Sign the Friday after the shooting. It was beautiful, moving, overwhelming and heartbreaking. So much love and hurt resonated from there. I became emotional the moment I stood at the first cross. I knew that these 57 people would be laid to rest somewhere else, close to their grieving loved ones, but for that moment I stopped at each cross, I was able to show my respects and honor the person in the picture that was before me. As I got to the end of the line of crosses, a woman started talking to me, asking me if I knew any of the people that were lost that night. I said no, and I was there to honor them. I don't really remember anything beyond that, but at some point in our conversation she grabbed me and hugged me. Me on one side of the crosses and her on the other, embracing each other creating a bridge over the crosses near us. That's the feeling that was left in the days after. The locals that are left behind to move forward in a city that was shattered by evil, we all untied in love and kindness.
Now that some time has pass, a sense of normalcy is setting in, or at least we are all settling into our new normal. The flags have been risen back to high staff, the billboards are starting to advertise again, and the news stories have changed. But for me one thing still remains, the place that this all started, Mandalay Bay. I don't know what the future holds for this property, but for me this is a constant reminder of the evil that once resonated from that hotel room. We don't live near the strip, but as I go about my day, I can see the shiny gold hotel off in the distance. Off in the distance a reminder of what our city once was, what it went through and the strength that we have shown to move forward.
For those who were directly affected by this tragedy, my heart goes out to them. We have all read and seen the stories of the ones who were physically injured and the recoveries that were credited as miracles. But for those who's injuries were not physical, but psychological, I pray that they receive the same kindness as the others. Recently I read a Facebook post from one of the physically unharmed survivors and without divulging any personal information, she wrote about the personal torment that she is experiencing. She is back home trying to live her "normal" life all while trying to survive this tragedy in her mind. My heart is heavy for her and for so many like her.
It is my hope that this tragic event in our history will show that hate will never conquer and that love and kindness always wins. It is my hope that this senseless act will have a purpose of greatness and change for the better beyond the hate that one person felt.
I know that this is much more serious than my usual posts, and so I thank you for understanding that I felt I had to address this moment in time to move forward, to release a heavy heart that has been weighing on me. I promise that not all moments lately have been this emotional and we've had some really fun times. I'll be back soon, hopefully tomorrow, to share those moments with you.
xoxo
-aMie
