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Authors: Todd Strasser

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BOOK: Give a Boy a Gun
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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 church 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.

BOOK: Give a Boy a Gun
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