Give a Boy a Gun

Home > Memoir > Give a Boy a Gun > Page 7
Give a Boy a Gun Page 7

by Todd Strasser


  —Allison Findley

  Only a tiny fraction of the guns manufactured in Japan stay in that country. Japan has very strict gun control laws. The majority of the guns manufactured in Japan are shipped to the United States. (Making a Killing)

  I heard someone scream and then I saw one of them. He was wearing green camouflage clothing and a black ski hat pulled down over his face with the eyes and mouth cut out. At first I thought it was a joke. Guys dressed like commandos and carrying toy guns. But then one of them, I think it was probably Brendan, fired a bunch of shots at the ceiling. It sounded like a pack of firecrackers, but you could hear the bullets pinging and ricocheting off the rafters and air-conditioning ducts. A couple of those big mercury-vapor lights shattered, and glass started to rain down on us. When that happened, most of the crowd dived for the floor.

  —Dustin Williams

  Do you know what a semiautomatic is? It looks like a machine gun. Only it’s smaller and easier to hide. It sprays out lots of bullets very quickly. I’m told it has absolutely no use as a hunting weapon and hardly any accuracy, either. So it serves no purpose in target shooting. Then what is it for? Why is it made? What do the companies that make these guns think people are going to do with them?

  —Beth Bender

  They were running around and yelling and firing at the ceiling. Bullets were ricocheting all over the place. Glass was shattering. It was, like, total mayhem. They told us to lie facedown on the floor with our hands over our head. That made it hard to see. With all the shouting and firing and running, and with the gym semidark because it was a dance, it was hard to tell how many there really were.

  I think I knew almost instantly that one of them was Brendan. And that led to the fairly logical conclusion that Gary would be involved too. I took a couple of guesses at who the others might be. I think a lot of us were surprised when we finally realized there weren’t any others. It was just Brendan and Gary. Even with the masks you could tell who was who because Brendan was thin and Gary was sort of chubby. You wouldn’t have thought only two of them could make so much noise and gunfire. At first I couldn’t understand why they were running and yelling and wearing masks. Now I think it was just to add to the fear factor. Believe me, it worked.

  — Dustin Williams

  They were yelling at us to get away from the doors. That the doors were booby-trapped. They herded us all into the center of the gym and told us to lie facedown. Mr. Curry tried to get stern and tough, and started to tell Gary to put down the gun. Gary didn’t say a word. He just fired off half a dozen quick shots at the ceiling. Those bullets ricocheted around up there. One of them came back down so close to my face I could feel the air move. It sounded like that beach scene in Saving Private Ryan.

  —Paul Burns

  “The killers [in school shootings] were able to easily acquire high-powered guns, and in many cases, their parents helped the children get them, either directly or through negligence. Guns with rapid-fire capability . . . that can spray a burst of bullets in a matter of seconds, were used in the incidents with the most victims.”

  —New York Times, 6/14/98

  In this school when they get mad, they pull out that walkie-talkie and point it at you. Like it’s a stick or a whip or something. Or maybe it’s to make sure you know they can get anyone pronto, even the police. It’s like an automatic reflex. Mr. Curry pointed his walkie-talkie at Gary and Brendan. And Brendan just shot him.

  —Chelsea Baker

  The bullet went into the right side of my chest. I thought I was going to die. I thought about my wife, Sara, and my kids. But I was incredibly lucky. It’s a story you’ve heard before. Half an inch this way or that and I wouldn’t be here talking to you right now. But the good Lord said it wasn’t my time.

  —Allen Curry

  Of course I was shocked when I heard the news. Everyone around here was. All I could think about was Samantha and Tom Lawlor, and what sweet, kind people they’d been, and about that day four years ago when Samantha had cried in my kitchen. I don’t know what happened to Brendan after they left Springfield, but I knew Samantha and Tom well enough to know that nothing they did could have led to anything that extreme. If you’ve raised children yourself, then you know you can’t blame the parents. If a child doesn’t want you to know or see something, then you’re not going to know or see it.

  — Kit Conner

  I didn’t even know they’d shot Mr. Curry. Most of the kids in the gym didn’t know it either. Guns were going off, and people were getting down as fast as they could. Too many things were happening at once.

  —Dustin Williams

  In 1999 not a single person was killed flying on an American airline. More than a dozen were killed by guns in schools.

  The police just couldn’t believe that it was an accident that I was at the dance. If they’d spend half as much time trying to help kids with their problems as they did trying to prove that I was an accomplice, we probably wouldn’t have these kinds of problems in the first place.

  —Allison Findley

  I think there might have been an opportunity, right at the beginning, to confront them, challenge them, get them to lay down their weapons. But they had the element of surprise on their side, and they came in firing and making a lot of noise. Once they shot Allen and had the rest of us on our stomachs, they were in control.

  —Dick Flanagan

  I was one of the first ones they put the plasticties on. “Aw, look, it’s Flach on the floor.” [Brendan] pressed the barrel of the gun right against the back of my head. I thought I was dead meat. Then he yanked my hands behind my back and pulled that plastic tie tight. Like a calf-roping contest. Then he kicked me as hard as he could in the ribs, cracked two of them, as it turned out.

  — Sam Flach

  Several years ago the Winchester-Olin company started selling a new bullet called the Black Talon. It was called the Talon because its tip is divided into six “claws” that unfold as it penetrates flesh. While traveling through the body, this increases the diameter of the bullet nearly three times, causing far more damage than an ordinary bullet.

  One of them came over and started putting a tie on my wrists. I asked which one he was, and he said Brendan. I said, “Brendan, come on, it’s me, Dustin.” He said, “Sorry, dude, it’s too late.”

  —Dustin Williams

  “In Jonesboro and Springfield, the parents of the accused assailants followed the general advice of the National Rifle Association and taught their children, at an early age, how to use guns properly.”

  —New York Times, 6/14/98

  They had it planned perfectly. The way they came in firing and yelling. The way they tied up some of the football players and male teachers first. The way they took the walkie-talkies away, and kicked and hurt some of them. By the time I realized how absurd the whole thing was, at least five minutes had passed. I sat up and looked around. There were nearly sixty of us and two of them. They were still tying up some of the bigger boys. I didn’t know they’d already shot Allen. I started to get up, and one of them saw me and came running over, yelling at me to get down. I was scared, but I didn’t back down. He fired at the ceiling and yelled again for me to lie down. He was still wearing that black mask, but I knew it was Gary. I said, “I’m not lying down, Gary, and I don’t think you’ll shoot me.”

  He aimed that gun right at my face and said, “I’d hate to shoot you, Ms. Bender, but I will.” I said, “I don’t think so.” And just like that, he fired. The force of the blast knocked me down, and I was in terrible pain on the left side of my head. I didn’t know what had happened. I was pretty sure I hadn’t been shot. It turned out the bullet missed. But kids all over the gym started screaming and crying. I lay down again. I honestly believe he intentionally missed the first time, but I also think he wouldn’t have missed a second time.

  —Beth Bender

  Several newspapers reported that T. J. Solomon had posters of sports heroes in his room. He was active at his chur
ch and attended youth services. One paper reported that he’d led a prayer the day before he shot and wounded six students.

  Gary’s Suicide Note

  Dear Mom,

  By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. I just want you to know that there’s nothing you could have done to stop this. I know you always tried your best for me, and if anyone doubts you, just show them this letter.

  I don’t know if I can really explain why I did this. I guess it’s because I know that I’ll never be happy. I know that every day of my life will hurt and be a lot more bad than good. It’s entirely a matter of, What’s the point of living?

  I could have just gone and offed myself quietly, but that would have been an even bigger waste. If I go this way, taking the people who made my life miserable with me, then maybe it will send a message. Maybe something will change, and some other miserable kid like me somewhere will get treated better and maybe find a reason to live.

  Mom, I could never tell you how unhappy I was. I knew there was nothing you could do to help, and life has been hard enough on you already. I’m truly, truly sorry that I’m going to put you through so much pain, but I hope that in a year or two you’ll get over it. Maybe you could move away and change your name and even have a new kid.

  You can start over. I wish I could be there with you, but I’m past the point of no return.

  Love forever,

  Gary

  The Dance

  I hid behind the refreshment table. There were three of us there. The other two were preppy, semipopular kids. The kind who hang around on the fringes of the popular clique and get invited in when they need a crowd, like to a game or a dance or a big party. Those two were scared !&*#less. I really think they believed that if Brendan and Gary found them, they’d shoot them.

  —Allison Findley

  I told them to stop shooting at the ceiling. That a ricocheting bullet could kill someone as easily as an aimed one. One of them instantly fired off another burst. He had to know that the ricochets could have hit him as easily as anyone else. I had to assume he didn’t care. I think I’m a reasonably good judge of kids’ moods. I can tell when they’re putting on an act and bluffing. Believe me, these boys were not putting on an act.

  — Dick Flanagan

  You want to hear something ironic? The school is about twenty years old, and I recall that there was some argument over the size of the gym when the building designs were first considered. Some people felt it was too large and they were spending too much money on it. But you want to know why I think no one was seriously hurt by a ricocheting bullet? Because that gym is so darn big.

  —Allen Curry

  I remember wondering why they didn’t start shooting kids right away. And I thought, Oh, no, killing us isn’t the point. They have some stupid message they want us to hear first

  — Deirdre Bunson

  “Bill [Kinkel, Kip’s father] . . . hoped buying Kip a legally registered rifle, taking him to a shooting range and seeing that he was taught to use it properly might actually mitigate against the boy’s unrelenting fascination with firearms.”

  —Rolling Stone, 9/17/98

  Why did they bring flashlights and snacks? Because they weren’t planning just to kill those kids. They were going to make them suffer. Just like those kids had made us suffer.

  —Allison Findley

  I’ve got pretty broad shoulders, but my arms are short because I’m stocky and not all that tall. Plus they’re pretty bulked up from lifting [weights]. It’s actually not that easy for me to cross my hands behind my back. They put a tie around my wrists, but it wasn’t all that tight. I had some wiggle room.

  — Paul Burns

  Was I surprised when I heard about it? Yeah, for like a second, but not really. Look at it as a form of torture. Day in and day out. Society makes you go to school, and then the society in school tortures you. You realize there’s no way out. Everyone has a breaking point. Sooner or later everyone will snap. Maybe if Brendan and Gary hadn’t snapped, someone else would have.

  —Ryan Clancy

  The first bomb went off while they were still tying everyone up. It sounded like it came from outside. Someone asked, “What was that?” and Brendan said it was a warning that they didn’t want anyone bothering them. The kids were already so scared they were crying and whimpering. But that bomb just added a whole other dimension of fear. It was one of the many moments that night when I was sure we were all going to die.

  —Beth Bender

  It was awful. They made us crawl on our stomachs into the center of the gym. The floor was dusty and you had to put your face on it. Then one of them kept an eye on us while the other made some of the girls get up and go sit with their backs to the doors. I wasn’t surprised they picked girls. They wouldn’t have dared let boys stand up.

  —Deirdre Bunson

  They were talking about what they were going to do with Sam. And they were talking loud because they wanted everyone to hear. They wanted him to roll over on his back so they could shoot him in the knee. They didn’t want to shoot him in the back of the knee, because they weren’t sure if that would cripple him or not. They wanted to shoot him in the kneecap. They wanted to make sure he’d be ruined for life.

  —Paul Burns

  They kept kicking me in the head and the arms and ribs. My hands were tied behind my back, and there was nothing I could do. It hurt worse than anything that ever happened on a football field. They wanted me to roll over so they could shoot me in the knee. I just didn’t want to give in. All I could think about was next year’s football season. It couldn’t end this way. It just couldn’t.

  — Sam Flach

  Try to picture this: fifty or sixty kids lying facedown on that hard gym floor with their hands tied behind their back. Crying, whimpering, blubbering, calling out for mercy, pleading to be let go. It was like these guys were hunters and we were a bunch of seals, and they were trying to decide which ones to slaughter first.

  —Dustin Williams

  I’ve been a hunter and gun collector all my life, as well as a dues-paying member of the National Rifle Association for close to thirty years. But when I think that it was my guns that those boys used. That those were my bullets they fired. . . . Sure, you can say that if they hadn’t stolen them from me, they would have stolen them from someone else, but they didn’t. Those were my guns. And now I have to live with that.

  —Jack Phillips

  It was hard for me to keep an eye on both of them, but each time I thought they weren’t looking, I’d try to work my hands free. I was pretty sure I could get them loose.

  —Paul Burns

  “The day of the shootings [in Oregon], the Eugene Register-Guard featured a homey little human-interest piece about the wonderful benefits of firearm education.”

  – Rolling Stone, 7/9/98

  [The bullet wound] hurt like the dickens. I kept expecting to black out or taste blood in my mouth, but strangely, other than the pain, I felt okay.

  —Allen Curry

  You couldn’t see much. You’d try to lift your head and look around, but after a while your neck muscles would go into spasms and you’d have to put your head back down on that disgusting floor.

  — Deirdre Bunson

  They shot Sam in both knees. You heard the shots and you heard Sam scream. Some of the teachers started shouting, but they were drowned out by more shots, and the sound of the bullets ricocheting all over the ceiling again and more lights shattering. Gary and Brendan yelled at the teachers to shut up. They weren’t just out to get the jocks. They were out to get everyone.

  — Dustin Williams

  Before 1980 one medical center in Los Angeles had never admitted a single child for gunshot wounds. From 1980 to 1987 the center admitted thirty-four.

  I was lying a few feet from Deirdre. She went nuts when they shot Sam in the knees. I really believe she stopped caring about herself. She screamed at Brendan and called him a bastard. She called him a scared little worm and
dared him to put down the gun. She went, “Then we’ll see how tough you are.”

  Everyone tried to lift their head to see. I saw Brendan step toward her. Deirdre stopped talking. He knelt down and pressed the barrel of the gun against her cheek. She cried out and jerked away. I think the barrel was hot, and it must have burned her face.

  I remember what he said: “Hey, cheerleader, think I give a crap about whether you think I’m tough or not? I already know I’m not tough. You want to know how I know? Because you and your A-hole friends have reminded me every single day since I moved here.”

  He pressed the barrel of the gun right into the back of her neck. It was really sadistic. Deirdre started to whimper and begged him not to shoot her. Gary came over and said something about Deirdre having an accident. They both started to laugh. One of the teachers—Mr. Flanagan, I think—yelled at them, and they fired another shot into the gym floor. I felt the vibration against my cheek.

  Brendan cursed and said he’d missed. Gary pointed out that he may have missed, but he’d made a nice hole in the wood.

  —Paul Burns

  After the autopsies, the newspapers said they hadn’t been on drugs, but if you ask me, they were acting like totally whacked-out maniacs. They ran around laughing and shooting up the gym floor. You could hear the wood cracking and splintering. I just kept praying they’d run out of ammunition.

  — Dustin Williams

  It was so scary when they started shooting at the floor. You just felt like they were completely psycho. They stopped because they heard my cell phone ring. My mom made me take it to the dance, and I gave it to Dustin to hold. Brendan went over and took it out of Dustin’s pocket.

  They told you what he said, didn’t they? She asked if I was there, and Brendan said yes, but I couldn’t come to the phone just then. So my mom asked if I would call her back, and he said he doubted it because I’d probably be dead.

 

‹ Prev