A Stone’s Throw by K. Irene Stone

  Today is the thirteenth day after “that day.”  I cannot help but think of the song from John Wayne’s “The Alamo,” at the end of the movie.  Aptly named “The Ballad of the Alamo,” it recounts the Thirteen Days of Glory.  You may ask, incredulously, why our sad thirteen days after May 24th should be considered days of glory? It’s not like we have been fighting a battle for thirteen days … or is it?

  I say it is!  We have been in a battle for our very lives! We have fought for our sanity, our self-control, our ability to face the light of day and dark of night.  And we have fought for our way of life here in Uvalde.  For the past thirteen days we have grasped for any lifeline we could find as everything we thought we knew was turned upside down … and still we have fought on.  We have fought for our past, present, and future.

  And battles, big and small, are fought in different ways. We have been patient with the myriad of people who have entered our town. We have stood firm when we wanted to throw up our arms, shake our heads, and walk away.  We have been courteous when we wanted to say, “Really? Now?” when we have been asked for one more picture, one more quote, one more tear.  We have “shot the breeze” like we did not have a care in the world to be polite when we ached to go into our home, lock the door, shut the curtains, and crawl in bed and cry.  

  We have talked to politicians, celebrities, newscasters, journalists, camera men, council members, school board members, school administrators, and law enforcement officers when all we really wanted to do was talk to the children and their teachers who we will never see on this earth again.

  And sometimes we lost it.  Sometimes we let the door slam behind us as we stomped out the house. Sometimes we clutched the little stuffed animal sitting next to the cross inscribed with our child/ grandchild/nephew/niece/cousin/brother/sister’s name on it and doubled over in anguish.  Sometimes we stood still with head bent – the weight of the world on our shoulders, pounding us into the ground.  And that is when someone, a stranger, or a friend, stood beside us, held our hand, and prayed for us.  They were our reinforcements — the Encouragers (and, God, please bless each one of them!) — and we could not fight on without them by our side.

  We know that no one fights a battle without an enemy.  And we have struggled with a real enemy – the Evil that entered Robb Elementary and took our nineteen precious children and two selfless teachers. NO ONE IN AUTHORITY STOPPED THIS EVIL until 77 minutes passed. We have struggled with this knowledge, but we will survive, and we will not forget. We are burying our children … still.  And we will demand an accounting of what took place when we are finished laying the last little one to rest.  We will NOT give up until all the questions are answered. 

  So, yes, we held it together for thirteen days after “that day” – our own Thirteen Days of Glory. On May 23rd did any of us foresee such a catastrophe in our community?  No.  Were we prepared? No.  And yet we have fought bravely on!   Why? Because WE ARE #UvaldeStrong.