Beyond shock and then grief, there is another thread that binds us when unspeakable tragedy occurs: We each have a story.
Those who remember the attack on Pearl Harbor, or President Kennedy’s assassination or 9/11 will always know where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the news. The tiniest details, meaningless on any other day, became etched in memory like acid on glass.
These stories are important not just because they bring us closer together and help us heal; they are also a powerful memorial to what was lost. In these stories, we carry with us a part of who we once were.
Like many of you, my story from last Tuesday began as I was getting ready for work. We are still in the early days of this year’s legislative session, so I was in Frankfort about to head to the Capitol for committee meetings.
When the initial text came in, I didn’t want to believe what I was reading. This was the high school where I had been thousands of times, as a student, as a legislator and as a fan. I know those halls and classrooms as well as anyone. No
way, I thought, could something like this happen there.
I called my wife to talk about it and told her I loved her and then I did what we all did: I searched for more news and prayed. I prayed that our worst fears would not come true, and then I prayed that God would be with those who were suffering.
At three-and-a-half hours away, I felt helpless. There is little I could have done, since I am not a first responder or an educator, but I nonetheless found myself wishing I could instantly be back home, to contribute in any way I could.
When I arrived later that afternoon, it was clear many others felt the same calling. It reminded me of something said a long time ago by Mr. Rogers, a childhood icon for many my age and older.
He said that, when he was young and heard or saw something frightening on the news, his mother consoled him by saying: “Always look for the helpers. There’s always someone who is trying to help.”
“I did,” he added, “and I came to see that the world is full of doctors and nurses, police and firemen, volunteers, neighbors and friends who are ready to jump in to help when things go wrong.”
I wish we did not live in a world where tragedies like last Tuesday’s occur, but I am forever grateful that we are blessed with so many who do not hesitate to act when needed.
That gratitude extends to the outpouring of support we have received from across the commonwealth and around the world. Their kindness is a welcome reminder that we are not alone, that millions of others stand with us as we try to make sense of the senseless and build hope where it may seem hopeless.
For those of us unsure of what the future holds, the book of Proverbs offers this advice: “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways, acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.”
My prayer as we move forward is that the stories we hear and the good deeds that are done give a measure of comfort to those in need. Those we lost and those who were injured will always be in our hearts, and their light will shine forever.