When shootings become personal: A student reflects on the Navy Yard

Home Opinion When shootings become personal: A student reflects on the Navy Yard

“Shooter on the Navy Yard.”

I got that text at 8:35 a.m. on Monday.

It was a group message to all of us interns who had spent the better part of our summers together working at the Washington Navy Yard––the place where 12 people were murdered by alleged gunman Aaron Alexis.

I worked Naval History and Heritage Command, a large museum located down at the end of Barracks Row on the Navy Yard, as a part of Hillsdale College’s WHIP program.

The guards were nice. I would flash my ID and my badge (I had papers marking me as a lowly intern) and I got in. Most people who work at the base aren’t active-duty military personnel. They are retired, reservists, or, more commonly, civilian employees.

I never felt unsafe on the base. Now, I can’t believe that a place where I felt so safe, had such fun, and made awesome friends would become the scene of a mindless shooting spree.

Although all of us who interned in D.C. this summer have since started school again, we know people who still work on the base. I was in class on Monday, and I’m not ashamed to say I kept an eye on my phone for updates. One of the interns got in touch with our boss. She was late for work, heard about the shooting, and turned around to go home. Other museum staff and members of the Naval History and Heritage Command were safe and on lockdown.

We talked about the friends we had still on base. I thought about the names of those who had been shot down. Was the security guard who was so nice to all us interns OK? Now there are bullet holes and dark memories in places that used to be fun and bright. What stopped this man from losing his mind a month earlier, when we were there? Is it wrong to be glad to be gone?

As scared as I was, I was also a little glad to see everyone else so scared too. But I fear most the day when when such moments aren’t newsworthy. When that day comes, we know that such atrocities will have become the norm.

Of that day, I live in fear.