When Koda, my big yellow Labrador, woke me up Monday morning, and I agreed to get out of bed, I did with a sigh as we had been promised another eight to twelve inches of snow. I’m tired of snow, and I was going to have to drive in it whether I wanted to or not. Much to my delight, the forecasters were wrong once again. Looking out my bedroom window and seeing there were only two inches and nothing on the streets or sidewalks put a smile on my face.
I had canceled my pre-op appointment for the Monday before because of the twenty inches of snow not only were we promised but we got. The only time available before my surgery was the following Monday at 3:45 pm. Not the best time for Koda, as that is when we walk, and then he gets dinner. I came up with a plan that I would walk him around 2:30 pm and give him half his dinner then and the other half when I got back.
As we walk out the door somewhere around 2:45 pm I heard sirens. Not one but many. As we headed towards the path we walk, the sirens didn’t stop, there were just more and more. At a certain point on the path, you can see a major road called Foothills Parkway, 47th Street, Thunderbird, or State Highway 157, depending on where you are and how long you’ve lived in Boulder. All I can see is cop car after cop car with lights and sirens on speeding somewhere. There were Boulder Police, Boulder Sheriff, unmarked, marked ambulances, and other cars from unknown areas. I started counting and stopped at fifteen because, looking to the north the line of them never seemed to end.
Koda and I continued our walk. Now I wasn’t just hearing sirens but also helicopters. Looking up, I see they are flying over southwest Boulder. Looking around for smoke or something, I suddenly got a sick feeling in my stomach and said to myself, “Oh please don’t let this be Fairview, please.” I’m referring to Fairview High School my alma mater right where the helicopters were flying.
When we got home, I said to mom, “There’s something going on in Boulder. I counted fifteen police cars and three ambulances south on 47th, and helicopters flying around southwest Boulder. I hope nothing is going on at Fairview.”
School is out this week; they are on spring break,” she replied. I let out a sigh of relief but still couldn’t imagine what was going on. After feeding Koda, who was impatiently waiting, I headed back to my office to see what I could find out.
The first thing on my Facebook feed was from the local paper the Daily Camera, “Alert there is an active shooter event at the Table Mesa King Soopers.” In the comments section, someone mentioned that if you went to the website broadcastify.com you can get a live feed from the Boulder Police Department. I decided to check it out.
After fifteen minutes, I had had enough. My Facebook feed was right there was an active shooter. That sick feeling I had in my stomach earlier came back as it was apparent there were going to be fatalities. I gave mom the low down, and she turned on the local news. As we saw what we thought to be the shooter walked out in handcuffs, with a bloody right leg and only his undershorts on, I left for my appointment.
Sitting in the waiting room of the doctor’s office, I found a live feed on my phone from one of the local news stations and continued watching in horror. There was a young lady standing next to me, and she could hear what I was listening to. When the news lady made the statement, “The medical helicopters have just landed in the Boulder High parking lot, we looked at one another and said, “That’s not Boulder High that’s Fairview,” and even in our horror, we both chuckled. Boulder only has two high schools with a very strong rivalry.
By the time I had returned from the doctor’s office, it was over, and the estimates of the body count began. Mom wasn’t sure what would happen next, and I let her know at this point that the FBI is here and they take over. I continued to explain that we probably won’t know much until the morning. A former neighbor who worked for the FBI explained to me after the Pulse Nightclub shooting in Orlando that the bodies must remain where they are until after they do their initial investigation. This information comes under the title, “Why do I really need to know this?”
As we sit down to dinner, we hear the body count is ten, one being a Boulder police officer. The tears began for both of us. Neither of us ate much. Mom went to bed, and I continued to listen to the news with more and more tears. Finally, I decided to go to bed, and as I do every night, I looked out my bedroom window to the west, and my tears became sobs, and said, “Oh my god, they lit the star.”
For the last 70 years, the much-beloved Boulder Star on Flagstaff Mountain has been lit during the holidays. The Boulder Chamber is the steward of the Boulder Star, and last year they lit it at the beginning of the pandemic as a sign of hope. This time it will be on for ten days for the ten victims.
A star in the west, not the east, just what Boulder needs.
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