Always Remember the Fifth of November

It was about 2:30 p.m. on the fifth of November in 2009. I worked at a school in Killeen just outside the main gates of Fort Hood. A parent walked into our classroom to pick up her child. I was the teacher’s aide in the classroom. The parent walked up to the teacher and said, “There’s been a shooting on post.”

I didn’t realize the seriousness of what was happening just a few miles away from where I was. My youngest child was with me at the school where I worked, and my oldest was at a neighbor’s house who she stayed with after school until I got home from work.

My husband was on post. I didn’t know exactly where he was at that time, and I didn’t know the full extent of what was happening until later.

We had the news on in the school office, and the events were unfolding quickly and rumors were being spread. We were being told that there were multiple shooters driving around post. I began frantically trying to get a hold of my husband, but the phone lines were jammed in our area and I couldn’t get through to him.

I tried calling my family to let them know that the kids and I were okay. The national news was reporting the event, and I knew they would be worried. I couldn’t get any phone calls to go through. We had some students and co-workers who were still at the school. Some lived on post and couldn’t get on post and some of the children had parents who lived on post and couldn’t get off post to pick them up.

Fort Hood was on lock down and the community had come to a complete halt.

After what seemed like hours, my phone rang. It was a college friend of my husband and mine.

“Are you guys okay,” he asked.

I told him that my kids and I were fine, but I couldn’t get a hold of my husband. I was shaking as I said it.

“Please let me know as soon as you hear from him,” he said.

I hung up and tried not to cry.

It was getting late, and one of my fellow employees went to get pizza to feed the kids and employees who were still at the school. There were only a few of us there. I knew that my oldest child was safe with my neighbor, and I was sure that, by now, my neighbor was aware of why I wasn’t home yet. I stayed at the school to be with those who were still there because of the post lockdown.

I didn’t have to stay there because we lived off post, but I just didn’t know what else to do at that time.

Another call came through on my phone, and it was my dad. He asked me if we were all okay. I told him that the kids and I were fine, but I couldn’t get a hold of my husband. I knew that he could hear the fear in my voice. He asked if my husband could have been in the SRP building.

“I don’t know, and I’m so scared,” I said to my dad.

I walked outside the school for a moment and looked to my right. There was the highway that led to the gates of Fort Hood. Traffic was stopped, and it was like the whole town had come to a halt.

The only sound I heard were sirens.

It had been about two hours since we first got word of the shooting when I tried calling my husband again. Finally, his phone was ringing.

Then, I heard: “This is SPC Smith. Can I help you sir or ma’am?”

I knew that I had called my husband’s cell phone, and I didn’t understand why someone else was answering his phone.

“Where is my husband?” I asked. My husband always had his cell phone on him. Now, I was really scared because I didn’t know why someone else had his phone.

“Ma’am, he just walked down the hall to a meeting.” That’s what he said. But, in my mind I heard, “Your husband can’t answer his phone right now.”

I asked the soldier if he was sure that my husband was okay. He assured me that he was. “Ma’am, there’s been an incident on post, and we are all being told to stay inside the building. Your husband had to go to a meeting to get more information on the situation.”

An incident on post, really? That’s when I realized that they didn’t have a television in the office, and the soldiers might not even realize what was happening.

Then, I simply said, “Is everyone in the company okay?”

The soldier replied with, “Yes ma’am. Everyone has been accounted for.”

I took a deep breath. “Please tell my husband that I love him,” I said.

The soldier simply replied with, “Yes ma’am. And I’m sure that he loves you, too.”

I hung up the phone, and I cried.

I would walk into the school office and watch the news for a few minutes, then walk down the hallway into the area where all the remaining students and employees were gathered, then walk back to the office for a news update. At about 8:30 p.m., we got word that the post was open again. The students and employees all started going home. I drove to my house and walked next door to pick up my daughter from the neighbor’s house. I thanked them for taking care of her and feeding her dinner.

Then, my husband called and said he was on his way home, but it would take a while because the traffic was all backed up. I remember being thankful that my husband and all in his company were okay, but I was still scared, because I knew that we had lost friends that day.

My husband walked in the door of our house around 9 p.m.

I hugged him like he had just come home from a deployment.

I wouldn’t let him go.

Up until that day, I had felt like my husband was safe at home.

The next day, we found out that my husband’s unit had lost soldiers and that there were some injured as well. My husband went into work that next day on post, but much was still unknown. It was hard to say goodbye to him that morning even though he was just going into work and not on a deployment.

We went to the post memorial ceremony. We had to walk from the unit offices to the site of the ceremony for safety reasons because traffic was not allowed near the area where the president would be speaking. It was a powerful sight to see the streets of Fort Hood lined with soldiers in formation marching where there are usually vehicles. The line of soldiers seemed to go on forever, it was such a sign of strength to me.

I remember the memorial ceremony that my husband’s unit had a few days later. There was no national media, no politicians, no cameras. There were soldiers, family members, squad leaders, platoon sergeants, commanders, and battle buddies.

I will never forget their words.

Nov. 5, 2009 was the day that a soldier opened fire on other unarmed soldiers and civilians in the SRP building on Fort Hood.

Thirteen people lost their lives that day, and 32 were wounded.

It’s been five years since that day. It was a tragic day for our community, but there are many stories of bravery, courage, and community support that media never shared.

My oldest child asked me how someone could hurt her friends. I told her that we don’t understand evil. I went on to tell her that there were more good people than evil people that day. There was extreme courage and bravery. There were people helping people, both military and civilians.

The details of that tragic day played out in national media for years. But, there are many stories of compassion and bravery that were never told.

There was the Killeen restaurant owner who went to pick their child up from day care that afternoon and learned that many of the children and staff would be there late into the evening waiting for post to re-open. The restaurant owner went back to work and gathered food for all of the employees and children at the day care.

There were teachers who comforted students who didn’t understand why it was dark and their parent hadn’t come to pick them up from school yet.

There was the man who made a homemade sign that read, “Praying For You,” and sat outside the main gate of Fort Hood for days after the shooting.

There were the Fort Hood USO volunteers who worked around the clock to provide food and support for the emergency personnel and investigators at the site of the shooting.

There were soldiers, family members, emergency personnel, and civilians all throughout the Fort Hood community who supported and comforted each other as we all tried to understand why this happened.

I always teach my kids that, no matter what happens in the world, evil never wins. Good will always triumph. On Nov. 5, 2009, there was more bravery than fear, more compassion than anger, more love than hate, and more good than evil.

I will never forget that day and I hope that our country never forgets either.

The heroes of that day need to be remembered:

• Mr. Michael Cahill
• Maj. Libardo Caraveo
• Staff Sgt. Justin DeCrow
• Capt. John Gaffaney
• Spc. Frederick Greene
• Spc. Jason Hunt
• Sgt. Amy Krueger
• Pfc. Aaron Nemelka
• Pfc. Michael Pearson
• Capt. Russell Seager
• Pvt. Francheska Velez and her unborn child
• Lt. Col. Juanita Warman
• Pfc. Kham Xiong

May we never forget. Always remember the 5th of November.