The Gathering in California -- NEWS

ONTARIO -- Evan Todd told of the gun pressed to his head as he crouched behind a librarian's desk while two classmates cut a murderous swath through the Columbine High School library. The Colorado teen-ager, who begged for his life and was spared, bore witness on Friday to the grim fate of some of his classmates who weren't so lucky. "I would never wish this on anybody to go through what any of us have gone through," Todd, 19, said. Todd was among a roomful of school shooting survivors and families at the Ontario Airport Marriott. Brought together by the Ontario Police Department and volunteers, they were there to tell their stories and talk about how to stop such tragedies. But despite the glut of attention that centered on Littleton, Colo., Paducah, Ky., Springfield, Ore., and other communities that fell victim to school shootings during the past several years, few stayed to listen to the stories and suggestions offered by the survivors. "I was hoping more people would stay," said Charlene Butolph of Springfield. Butolph is the mother of survivor Amber Hensley and one of the organizers of Friday's event. The day began with a luncheon attended by several city officials and business people, as well as state Attorney General Bill Lockyer, who spoke about the importance of taking action now to prevent future tragedies. But as the plates were cleared and the survivors began speaking, the room started clearing out. As speaker after speaker touched on the importance of community involvement and faith in God, luncheon attendees continued to slip out. By the time Sue Petrone took the podium, there was almost no one in the room who hadn't been personally touched by a school shooting. "I noticed how the politicians and law enforcement were here and wanted us to hear what they had to say, but they didn't stay to listen to us," Petrone said. Petrone's only son, 15-year-old Danny Rohrbough, died in the shooting at Columbine High School. The day it happened, Petrone and her family could get no information on what had happened to Danny, whether he was alive or dead. It wasn't until the next day, when Petrone saw a photo of her son's lifeless body in the newspaper, that she knew what had happened to her son. And public officials' response to her son's death has not gotten any better, she said. "My son has been reduced to a Columbine lapel pin to politicians who use his death and the deaths of the 12 others for political platforms," Petrone said. In the end, the lack of official attention didn't really mean that much. The important thing was that everyone was there together, meeting, talking and sharing. "When you have been through an experience like this, relating and talking to someone who has been through the same thing is very healing for you," said Reyne Athanas, a teacher in Bethel, Alaska, who witnessed the 1997 shooting where a student killed high school Principal Ron Edwards and student Josh Palacios. "It helps you cope with problems you don't realize that are there." Ontario Police Department Capt. Katie Roberts urged those who had come to the city to try to make a difference not to feel let down that so few had stayed to hear their stories.

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	Daily Bulletin in Ontario.
	The Press -Enterprise
	8-5 a1 ont victims Published Saturday, August 5, 2000 ONTARIO -- Evan Todd told of the gun pressed to his head as he crouched behind a librarian's desk while two classmates cut a murderous swath through the Columbine High School library. The Colorado teen-ager, who begged for his life and was spared, bore witness on Friday to the grim fate of some of his classmates who weren't so lucky. "I would never wish this on anybody to go through what any of us have gone through," Todd, 19, said. Todd was among a roomful of school shooting survivors and families at the Ontario Airport Marriott. Brought together by the Ontario Police Department and volunteers, they were there to tell their stories and talk about how to stop such tragedies. But despite the glut of attention that centered on Littleton, Colo., Paducah, Ky., Springfield, Ore., and other communities that fell victim to school shootings during the past several years, few stayed to listen to the stories and suggestions offered by the survivors. "I was hoping more people would stay," said Charlene Butolph of Springfield. Butolph is the mother of survivor Amber Hensley and one of the organizers of Friday's event. The day began with a luncheon attended by several city officials and business people, as well as state Attorney General Bill Lockyer, who spoke about the importance of taking action now to prevent future tragedies. But as the plates were cleared and the survivors began speaking, the room started clearing out. As speaker after speaker touched on the importance of community involvement and faith in God, luncheon attendees continued to slip out. By the time Sue Petrone took the podium, there was almost no one in the room who hadn't been personally touched by a school shooting. "I noticed how the politicians and law enforcement were here and wanted us to hear what they had to say, but they didn't stay to listen to us," Petrone said. Petrone's only son, 15-year-old Danny Rohrbough, died in the shooting at Columbine High School. The day it happened, Petrone and her family could get no information on what had happened to Danny, whether he was alive or dead. It wasn't until the next day, when Petrone saw a photo of her son's lifeless body in the newspaper, that she knew what had happened to her son. And public officials' response to her son's death has not gotten any better, she said. "My son has been reduced to a Columbine lapel pin to politicians who use his death and the deaths of the 12 others for political platforms," Petrone said. In the end, the lack of official attention didn't really mean that much. The important thing was that everyone was there together, meeting, talking and sharing. "When you have been through an experience like this, relating and talking to someone who has been through the same thing is very healing for you," said Reyne Athanas, a teacher in Bethel, Alaska, who witnessed the 1997 shooting where a student killed high school Principal Ron Edwards and student Josh Palacios. "It helps you cope with problems you don't realize that are there." Ontario Police Department Capt. Katie Roberts urged those who had come to the city to try to make a difference not to feel let down that so few had stayed to hear their stories.
	The Press -Enterprise SAN BERNARDINO COUNTY ; DESERT & PASS ; INLAND EMPIRE ; SOUTHWEST ; CORONA-NORCO ; MORENO VALLEY ; RIVERSIDE Byline: Kristina Wells Caption: Kurt Miller; The Press -Enterprise ; Amber Hensley gathers at the Ontario Marriott with other survivors of school shootings to talk about their experiences and brainstorm ways to prevent another tragedy. ONTARIO Amber Hensley brushed shoulders with death May 21, 1998. The Springfield, Ore., woman literally bumped into a 15-year-old killer seconds before the boy opened fire on students at Thurston High School. "We made eye contact," Hensley, now 19, said of Kip Kinkel, who killed two students, injured 20 others and murdered his parents. "I knew something was wrong," she said Kinkel opened fire as he entered the school's cafeteria, where Hensley had been hanging out with friends. "That morning I would have been there, but I had to meet my mom outside to get something," Hensley said Friday at the Ontario Marriott. Survivors from a series of school shootings gathered at the hotel to brainstorm about ways to prevent another tragedy and to share their experiences. Hensley recalled hearing the "pop, pop, pop" of the gun as Kinkel shot Ben Walker, who died days later from head injuries. Hensley ran to Walker, a boy she met that day for the first time. "I would have traded my life for Ben's in a second, just to not see his parents in pain," Hensley said. "At his funeral I said: 'I'm sorry.' I left him there. I think about him a lot." Hensley, other survivors and relatives of those who died shared stories with an audience that included state Attorney General Bill Lockyer, law-enforcement officials and business people at Friday's event dubbed "The Gathering . . . for peace." Sabrina Steger's daughter, Kayce, was one of three Heath High School students in West Paducah, Ky., killed in a hallway while participating in a morning prayer circle Dec. 1, 1997. Steger, a nurse, pleaded Friday with the audience to listen to their children and to tell them every day that they are loved. "I called that morning and spoke to Kayce. An hour later Kayce was dead," Steger said, pausing as tears overwhelmed her. "I really wish I could know in my heart that the last words she heard from her mother were, 'I love you.' " The grieving mother suggested ways to stop schools from becoming "killing fields." The government should support forums on the topic and society should take a hard line against violence, she said. People need to discipline their children, be more involved in their lives and remember the victims, she said. "How many of you can name the shooter?" Steger asked the audience. "Now, how many of you can name the victims? . . . We need to know the victims's names." The event -- run by volunteers and sponsored by the Ontario Police Department, and several businesses and funded through donations -- was the first time many victims had spoken about their experiences and met others who could empathize. Evan Todd was inside the library at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colo., on April 20, 1999, when two teen-age boys stormed in. "I saw one of the gunmen. He shot me with a 12-gauge shotgun," Todd recalled, as other survivors wiped tears from their eyes. "They went around the library asking people questions with a gun to their heads. If it wasn't an answer they liked, they shot -- execution style." Todd read from a prepared speech, blasting society for allowing him and his peers to become a forgotten generation raised by television and each other -- a generation growing up in a "flawed" America. "Children of a society are a reflection of the society they are born into," Todd said. "America has a serious character flaw." For law-enforcement officials, "The Gathering " was an opportunity to discuss prevention programs and get ideas from people who lived through the carnage. "This has probably been one of our most rewarding experiences as a police department," Ontario detective Mike Macias said. He became a "member of the club" in 1979 after surviving a gunshot wound. "It has to start somewhere. This may not have been the start but it's a continuation of an exchange of ideas," Macias said. The victims were involved in school shootings in five states. "A lot of us have been forced into the club and we're not enjoying it," Charlene Butolph, Hensley's mother, said. "And it's not a club we want more members in." Butolph and others correspond via e-mail, phone and letters. The 42-year-old woman managed to gather as many survivors as she could to attend the Ontario event in an effort to heighten awareness and remember the victims, not the criminals. "The communities get tired of hearing about it. I think what really bothers me is . . . there's empty places where children once sat," Butolph said. "If we forget those children, we're doomed to repeat history."