On Friday, I witnessed a random shooting. It was as if I had a front row seat to it. I took a rare day off from work and went to the beach in South Haven, MI. I hadn't been to any beach since before the pandemic.
The kid (and he was just a kid, only 19) sat with his back against the base of the lighthouse, facing the water, a backpack between his feet. At once, he stood up and fired at a couple standing at the very end of the pier who I later learned were husband and wife. They lay there while he continued to walk around on the pier, making his way toward the beach. He walked around in circles on the pier, strutting, really, with a pistol in each hand, Yosemite Sam-style, randomly firing. He was firing at people. At people.
He shot a waverunner that was being ridden near the pier, but didn't hit the person riding it, not for lack of trying. He shot at a man he spotted recording him with his phone from across the inlet. I think he must have shot toward us on the beach. I really don't know. There were so many people in the water. So many kids. He must have stopped a few times to reload, since there were long pauses between bursts of fire
I sat there in my chair, toes in the sand. It was such a pretty day.
I made a series of decisions Friday that I can’t help but to think about over and over. Decisions that put me right in front of it, center stage. I wondered if I should even go to the beach, it was so hot and I was already a little sunburned. I decided in favor of the beach because it was a beautiful, hot summer day, I had taken the day off from work specifically to go to the beach, and I thought I'd stop at the farm stand on M-43 on my way back to get some more of those delicious heirloom tomatoes (and delicious they are. Holy cow).
I pulled up to the same beach I went to the day before, but at the last minute I decided to change it up. I drove out of the way to go to the main beach there, South Beach, the one with the pier and lighthouse. It's so pretty, and it's really neat to see all the boats and ships cruising out to the lake through the waterway and past the pier. It was such a pretty day.
As I walked toward the water, a family was just leaving the beach with their stuff. Score! This was a real stroke of luck because the beach was very crowded, and they had just vacated a prime spot. I set up camp right at the water's edge next to the pier and then jumped in the fauxcean (Props to my friend Linda) and swam out toward the lighthouse to hydrate my mermaid scales (more props to Linda) before heading back to read and relax and enjoy the zen yet noisy, kid-filled atmosphere of the beach. After I dried off a little, I was thinking I’d put down my book and take a stroll down the pier, it was such a pretty day.
I picked up my phone and snapped a photo of a seagull standing next to me and posted it on Facebook. My book was really engrossing, so I picked it up and started one more chapter. I have heard so many times that life can change in the blink of an eye, and I understood, but it's a lot clearer to me now just how true that is. The gunshots sounded like a pack of firecrackers, they were that fast and close together. I saw a bunch of kids running from the pier, and thought "Naughty boys, setting off fireworks". I smiled and looked back at my book.
I saw it, but I didn't really see it. I sat and watched it all, but I was just not absorbing or comprehending any of it. A gun was absolutely the furthest thing from my mind, even though I could clearly see a man lying motionless on his side in a weird position at the end of the pier, right in front of me. In fact, I snapped a photo of the pier because it was so pretty. I looked at it later and realized the man was in the photo, laying there at the end of the pier. Motionless. (Lifeless).
I am not sure how long I sat there, knowing something was up but not really knowing. Time is a funny thing. If you’ve ever been in a car accident, you understand how it can suddenly become plastic and malleable. It would be impossible for me to say how long I sat there after I heard the first shots. I would not be surprised if you told me it was a full 5 minutes before I truly got it.
It felt as thick as flowing honey, the realization of what was occurring right in front of me. Slow, pleasant, steady. Even while hearing people screaming at their kids to get out of the water, and even while watching people all around me get up and run, it was such a perfect summer day at the beach. The sky was so blue and the water was so warm and clear.
It came to me all at once like a big slap when I heard someone say the word “gun”. Life suddenly, jarringly returned to real-time. I heard more gunshots as I ran up the beach. With several dozen people and their kids, I huddled behind sand-filled bagsters that are meant to control flooding, and which doubled as a conveniently located bullet-proof wall.
A police officer ran by at full tilt while yelling "We still have an active shooter" into his radio. His voice was shaking and he sounded absolutely terrified while he ran right toward the pier as fast as he could. I think that's about the time we heard the final gunshot. The police are the ones who tell us to remain calm, not to panic and walk in an orderly fashion, aren’t they? But of course, they are just like everyone else. Of course they are. Of course they are.
What could have been my last ever photo.
upload pic
A self portrait taken at the pier in 2011 with our kite cam.
The kid (and he was just a kid, only 19) sat with his back against the base of the lighthouse, facing the water, a backpack between his feet. At once, he stood up and fired at a couple standing at the very end of the pier who I later learned were husband and wife. They lay there while he continued to walk around on the pier, making his way toward the beach. He walked around in circles on the pier, strutting, really, with a pistol in each hand, Yosemite Sam-style, randomly firing. He was firing at people. At people.
He shot a waverunner that was being ridden near the pier, but didn't hit the person riding it, not for lack of trying. He shot at a man he spotted recording him with his phone from across the inlet. I think he must have shot toward us on the beach. I really don't know. There were so many people in the water. So many kids. He must have stopped a few times to reload, since there were long pauses between bursts of fire
I sat there in my chair, toes in the sand. It was such a pretty day.
I made a series of decisions Friday that I can’t help but to think about over and over. Decisions that put me right in front of it, center stage. I wondered if I should even go to the beach, it was so hot and I was already a little sunburned. I decided in favor of the beach because it was a beautiful, hot summer day, I had taken the day off from work specifically to go to the beach, and I thought I'd stop at the farm stand on M-43 on my way back to get some more of those delicious heirloom tomatoes (and delicious they are. Holy cow).
I pulled up to the same beach I went to the day before, but at the last minute I decided to change it up. I drove out of the way to go to the main beach there, South Beach, the one with the pier and lighthouse. It's so pretty, and it's really neat to see all the boats and ships cruising out to the lake through the waterway and past the pier. It was such a pretty day.
As I walked toward the water, a family was just leaving the beach with their stuff. Score! This was a real stroke of luck because the beach was very crowded, and they had just vacated a prime spot. I set up camp right at the water's edge next to the pier and then jumped in the fauxcean (Props to my friend Linda) and swam out toward the lighthouse to hydrate my mermaid scales (more props to Linda) before heading back to read and relax and enjoy the zen yet noisy, kid-filled atmosphere of the beach. After I dried off a little, I was thinking I’d put down my book and take a stroll down the pier, it was such a pretty day.
I picked up my phone and snapped a photo of a seagull standing next to me and posted it on Facebook. My book was really engrossing, so I picked it up and started one more chapter. I have heard so many times that life can change in the blink of an eye, and I understood, but it's a lot clearer to me now just how true that is. The gunshots sounded like a pack of firecrackers, they were that fast and close together. I saw a bunch of kids running from the pier, and thought "Naughty boys, setting off fireworks". I smiled and looked back at my book.
I saw it, but I didn't really see it. I sat and watched it all, but I was just not absorbing or comprehending any of it. A gun was absolutely the furthest thing from my mind, even though I could clearly see a man lying motionless on his side in a weird position at the end of the pier, right in front of me. In fact, I snapped a photo of the pier because it was so pretty. I looked at it later and realized the man was in the photo, laying there at the end of the pier. Motionless. (Lifeless).
I am not sure how long I sat there, knowing something was up but not really knowing. Time is a funny thing. If you’ve ever been in a car accident, you understand how it can suddenly become plastic and malleable. It would be impossible for me to say how long I sat there after I heard the first shots. I would not be surprised if you told me it was a full 5 minutes before I truly got it.
It felt as thick as flowing honey, the realization of what was occurring right in front of me. Slow, pleasant, steady. Even while hearing people screaming at their kids to get out of the water, and even while watching people all around me get up and run, it was such a perfect summer day at the beach. The sky was so blue and the water was so warm and clear.
It came to me all at once like a big slap when I heard someone say the word “gun”. Life suddenly, jarringly returned to real-time. I heard more gunshots as I ran up the beach. With several dozen people and their kids, I huddled behind sand-filled bagsters that are meant to control flooding, and which doubled as a conveniently located bullet-proof wall.
A police officer ran by at full tilt while yelling "We still have an active shooter" into his radio. His voice was shaking and he sounded absolutely terrified while he ran right toward the pier as fast as he could. I think that's about the time we heard the final gunshot. The police are the ones who tell us to remain calm, not to panic and walk in an orderly fashion, aren’t they? But of course, they are just like everyone else. Of course they are. Of course they are.
What could have been my last ever photo.
upload pic
A self portrait taken at the pier in 2011 with our kite cam.
