About an hour into the ordeal it is not longer the tension that is being felt in the room but more of the oppressive heat and humidity. It was cold outside but inside this tiny break room with 14 people the heat is overpowering.
Just when it starts to even me get unbearable cell phones light up like beacons from the dark.
We start hearing from people on the outside. We hear that they have got the gunman and he is in custody and being taken downtown. That seems to relieve some of the weariness of the last hour.
Then we find out that they are now going room to room to alert all the students and faculty. And that there is an all clear. We hear that we are not allowed out of the secure location ’til the officers either security or police come to relieve us of our positions.
There is a palatable sigh within of the room. The heat is even starting to feel comfortable and now we wait. We still sit there in utter silence almost fear-laced. What do we say to each other? We do not know if we should hug each other. Or just walk away after the all clear.
We get no training for Gunman on campus after the event. There is no training on how to treat others after a trauma event. We have zero knowledge on true situational awareness and its consequences after the event.
Also, no one knows why we wait for the all clear unless there is another possible gunman. And they are not alerting us to the possibility of it. As we all sit there you notice some of the legs start to unravel and see the cramps begin to release.
People are back on their cell phones telling all their loved ones they will be home and they are safe. I have to come to terms that the only person I truly want to inform is Calypso. And she does not understand language. So I now have to deal with the depression of loneliness and surviving a gunman on campus event.
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Read more in this series by Brian Cardoza, here.
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Image by author. Used with permission.