On courage

 The funerals have begun in Uvalde. I'm afraid I had my numbers wrong in that last post. It seemed like each time I looked at the news the number of children who were gunned down increased.  And now this horrible news about the policemen who stood outside the door. I can't imagine how guilty they must feel. Did they really think no lives were at risk when a gunman had barricaded himself in the room? Did they not hear shots? Have they not heard theses stories before? 

I used to know someone who was a 911 operator. She is still my friend on Facebook, and she has sometimes posted about the difficulty of responding to so much trauma.  So many emergencies. Not often does she get a call, let alone multiple calls, from children pleading desperately for help. I know she would have tried valiantly to get help. How did the message not get to the men outside the door in that 45 minutes to an hour? 

And yet before I condemn them, what would I have done? Bravely smashed in the door? Broken in and put my own life on the line to save the children? I like to think that I would have thrown myself at the gunman, like the two teachers who died, but I may have cowered behind locked doors. I don't like conflict, let alone gunfights. I used to take on the bigger kids on the soccer field, but that doesn't mean I have the courage to face down a real criminal. I have had dreams about saving my children from drowning and from wildfires and from auto accidents, but I haven't dreamed of saving them from an active shooter. Perhaps that is the next drill to dream up.