A Day for Emily
Last week, this happened here:
(from the Denverpost.com)
For reasons still unknown to authorities Thursday, Morrison walked into the school Wednesday morning, held six girls hostage and sexually assaulted an unknown number of them over a four-hour period and killed 16-year-old Emily Keyes before dying in a barrage of gunfire.
Today, we did this to help the healing:
(also from the Denverpost.com)
So overwhelming was the outpouring for two communities healing from school violence that bikers in “Emily’s Parade” were pulling into Platte Canyon High School in Bailey as the last bikers left Columbine High School 40 miles away in south Jefferson County.
When it happened last week, I went into denial mode. I was planning on going straight home from work and sitting down to a night filled with news headlines, bulletins and “information.” But instead, I decided it would be better for my nerves if I just stayed away from it. So I didn’t watch it on TV or listen to the radio. But the next morning at work, it couldn’t be avoided - the teachers were talking, speculating, crying about it. I didn’t chime in. I even considered asking them to put a lid on it to protect my mental safety. Alas, I did not. But the Denial Game worked rather well for me——-until today.
We gathered at Columbine HS shortly before noon. Some bikers had been there since dawn. Pink shirts and ribbons and boas and balloons speckled the gruff choppers and slick crotch rockets. We ended up near the front of the crowd about five minutes before departure. The energy generated from the bikes alone caused me to burst into tears. But then I felt the agony and grief of the community around me. I cried harder behind the safety of my tinted helmet visor.
And then something beautiful happened. All of a sudden, in a literal instant, those delicate little puffs of cotton from nearby cottonwood trees descended upon us. It started one second -coming out of nowhere- and about five minutes later it just stopped. That’s when I knew that Emily was with us.
We left Columbine HS at exactly noon with a fire engine escort leading the way. Police blocked off traffic from crossroads and allowed us to roll through the red lights as we headed towards the highway. Thousands and thousands of bikes thundered up the canyon, passing dozens of people parked on the side of the highways and mountain roads. They had signs that read “PAY IT FORWARD,” and “I LOVE U GUYS - EMILY” and “THANK YOU BIKERS!” I spent most of the time on the back of Honey’s bike with my hands in the air waving peace signs back at the spectators and well-wishers. The whole route was peppered with pink ribbons waving from mile markers, tree trunks and stop signs. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that I cried all the way up the mountain from Columbine to Bailey - an hour’s ride.
They welcomed us with open arms and friendly, grateful smiles in Bailey. They fed us at Platte Canyon HS and let us use their bathrooms. But all I could think of was how utterly devistating this tragedy has been for Emily’s family. Her mother gave a heartfelt thankful and encouraging speech to the bikers and I deeply envied the strength in her voice. But I could also feel her pain.
And then I looked around at the line of leather-clad bikers, waiting for some food. I heard bits of conversations that lead me to conclude that the average wait time was 45 minutes (just to give you an idea of how many riders were there). And I suddenly realized that that’s why we’re here - we are all involved in this pain. We are all sharing the pain. We all carry it. We wanted to come up here and wave to Emily’s mom and show her that we are here to take some of her pain away, if only in small increments.
I had a zillion thoughts about life, death, youth, what happened in the school that day, how Emily must’ve felt, how her twin brother must now feel…..the goddess, the everafter, the peacefulness of the back of my Honey’s bike. But my words are failing me now. It was the most moving experience I have had in I don’t know how long. It was an absolute honor to participate in this ride today.