Some of you who follow closely are probably confused. First of all, there are technically 40 days of Lent observed. But there at the start, I didn’t take off Sundays, so I’m gonna wind up with 44 days by the time Easter gets here. Also, my last post is day 35. Where did the other days go? Well, sometimes you gotta prioritize. And yesterday, something traumatic happened in our little town, and it bears a blog post.

Today was going to be for Paris, and the crippling shock of the loss of Notre Dame. It was truly a marvel. And when something stands the test of time and wars for eight centuries you think it will be around forever. But one spark….just one spark and all the history and beauty will crumble. I can only imagine how paralyzed Parisians feel. And were they scared, too? Did they think it was another terrorist attack? Thank God it wasn’t. And I haven’t heard of any casualties, but I haven’t researched it, either.

Today is Wednesday, April 17th. Yesterday, I was sitting at the office with my DC and Engineer when a bunch of sirens cut loose and blasted down the road. They were going so fast I swear the building rocked. Which, in itself, is not unusual. They’re always in a hurry going somewhere. Lots of emergencies in this town. Although from my experience it tends to be car wrecks or old people having a stroke. Or a seizure. Lord, at the seizures. They used to call me The Seizure Queen at dispatch, because I seemed to get every one. I guess Sevier County is just overstimulating and brings them on. Anyway, about twenty minutes later I hear there has been a shooting at Five Oaks Mall.

Now this is just about out of the realm of my comprehension. Five Oaks???? Not that it’s such a prestigious place, not that I haven’t had a bit of parking rage there, myself, but a shooter?? I’ve been expecting some mass destruction at a Rod Run for years now. All those rednecks out there with guns and beer, sure. Some Islamic smart aleck running his mouth and that be the end of that. After 9/11 I held my breath for several months, because if some crazy was looking for a head count, there it would be.

So a shooter at Five Oaks really scrambled what I thought I knew. And that is that my little town is reasonably safe.

Instantly my mind went to the dispatchers, as it always does.

The first caller wouldn’t get much more than a syllable expelled before all the emergency lines would ring at once, that piercing alarm sound and flashing red lights on every line at every station. The trunk lines would fill and roll. And roll. And roll. It would be a flurry of button pushing and interagency chatter as information is relayed as it became available. The dispatchers would be on their feet, because this isn’t routine. This isn’t reading pre-arrivals for a heart attack from the spiral bound notebook. This is a horror scene. Everybody would be holding their breath, waiting for the first officer on scene. It wouldn’t take long, but ten seconds is too long in a situation like this. Did they hear the shot as the shooter took his own life? Surely, if it happened the way the police speculate. But I don’t think so. I think it was instant– as soon as he shot the second victim, I think this man turned the gun on himself. I don’t think he heard sirens or screams or anything but the sound of his own heart pounding. What was he thinking? What was his goal?

And then the shoppers.

There were two kinds of shoppers yesterday, two kinds of people.

There were those, locked somewhat safely away in breakrooms and stockrooms with other shoppers and employees of the store. They were praying, and calling their families, and crying in shock. They were squeezing their arms and hugging each other and wondering what was going on. There were planners, too, in every bunch. People who had already worked out that they would be the ones to take charge if he came in on them. People who carry their weapons. People with a plan. People who have Nabs in their pocketbook along with a pocketknife. I think of how many times I’ve strolled right there on that very sidewalk. How many times I’ve set foot in that Coach store (and there is irony in this, too, you’ll read about it in a few days) and how I’ve never felt threatened or frightened being there at any time. Maybe a little suffocated in August when the heat is oppressive and the shoppers are everywhere, but never even suspicious of anyone specifically. Would I have been the one in the stockroom, taking charge? Would I have been comforting the people around me? Would I have been on my feet, eyeing all of them suspiciously, wondering if another murderer was in our midst? A conspirator? Would I have been inconsolable, crying in the corner? I don’t know. But I know what I wouldn’t have been.

I wouldn’t have been one of these indifferent people this young lady encountered.

That hurt my heart. How do people become so numb?

On September 11th, 2001, I was, of course, at Co-op. The news came in from customers. And when the second plane hit, we knew it was not an accident. And all I could think was that I wanted to go home. Home equals safety to me. I wanted to see my Grandmother and my dog and my horse. I wanted to be with those I loved, so I could watch, and keep them as close and safe as I could. So I know that had I been at Five Oaks yesterday when all this went down, my number one thought would have been getting home to my cocoon immediately. But this is Co-op we’re talking about, and Co-op sells necessities like gas and feed for critters. The show must go on. So I stayed and worked. There weren’t a whole lot of sales. Everybody seemed to have the same idea about getting home, barricading themselves, and staying put. By the time we closed, the roads were deserted and it made fir an eerie evening commute.

Growing up in East Tennessee, you are prepared at a very young age for the threat that is Oak Ridge being bombed. We would truly be but a vapor in that instance, but it was a very real possibility and something that dominated my thoughts for several months following. I guess that would be a decent way to go. Now you see me, now you don’t. I always hope it will be quick.

I waited on some real convicts over the years. Somebody was always bringing in a “Just Busted” paper and it was great fun poring over it to see which customers had been incarcerated that week. But it was also a bit scary. I feel like it’s just a matter of time before stores lock down, putting their employees behind bullet proof glass. I had a few experiences on that counter when I wished for a barrier. People are CRAZY.

Anyway. What I’m trying to drive at, is while you pray for the victims and their families, and you pray for the first responders and law enforcement, while you pray for the bystanders who are now dealing with seeing this horrific scene go down in an instant, while you pray for the workers who no longer feel safe and secure in their place of work…while you pray for all these people…don’t forget to pray for the dispatchers. They’re the first line. They are the people who draw information from hysterical callers. They’re the ones who get the help on the way. They are just as important to emergency services as your police, firemen, and paramedics. And so often they are overlooked. So often they don’t get commended. So often they don’t get closure. So please remember our dispatchers.

Lord, it’s been a trying time for many in our county. A dark cloud passed through yesterday but fortunately didn’t linger. There are so many questions and we probably won’t ever get all the answers. I pray that the innocent soul is with you now, and that you will provide comfort in the ways only you can to her family. What a freak happening for our county. I pray for the man who was wounded, may he heal quickly and go on to spread a testimony of your abundant grace. May the employees be able to move on and feel comfortable going to work and understand that this isn’t commonplace. May the ones that are mature enough to handle it go on to get their concealed carry permit. No one should feel like they can’t defend themselves. May their corporations understand, and offer therapy and counseling to those who need it. May the mall not suffer any sort of lawsuit, as this was truly no one’s fault but the misguided man pulling the trigger. I pray for the witnesses to the crime, it is my desire that this incident not mar the beauty of our county, and that they are able to look past it and visit again. May this troubling event bring so many closer to you. I thank you for the men and women who rushed in, unknowing what they were dealing with. Bless them for attending training to stay abreast of tactics for dealing with an active shooter. Thank you for those that care. Thank you for the quick response. Thank you for the helpers on scene, as surely someone is an unspoken hero out there, staunching blood flow or simply holding a hand as one soul slipped out of this Earth into your heavenly home. Thank you for the brave leaders in the back parts of stores, adrenaline pumping as they girded for action. Thank you for the officers delivering information, conducting interviews, and collecting evidence as this case progresses. It will be a tiresome job. And thank you, Lord, for the dispatchers. Last, as usual. May their heart rates slow and may a calm always descend upon them as they help. No matter how long you’re there, no matter how many times you answer that phone, your heart will always jerk as you think, “What now?” They do the best they can, every call, every time. Dispatch is a punishing, brutal, and nearly thankless job. My heart is with them. Thank you for having people in place that can handle it. Thank you for their new leadership, I think they are transitioning well. I thank you for our tourists, and the beauty of the park that draws them here. We are fortunate to live in an area where this isn’t the norm. And if you see fit, God, let’s keep it that way. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Today’s Lent I failed on a grand scale. It was like I didn’t even try. I could make up some stupid something that I did without, but that’s cheating, and I’m not a cheater. I drove too fast, I cussed, I gossiped, I wasted money, and I drank. I was an all around sorry Christian. The kind that non church goers despise. And who can blame them? That’s why I say don’t look to me for an example, look in your Bible.

Did I mention that it’s Emergency Communicator’s Week? Our little slice of the world has a history of bringing it in with a bang. A few years ago was the helicopter crash.

So while you’re sending up prayers for those guys in red trucks, and those paramedics, and the fellers dressed in black or tan with the swift cars, say one for the voices too. They tend to suffer in silence.

Oh, and they like food. And coffee. And coloring books.

Just an FYI.

Love from Appalachia,

Amy xoxo