Sandy Hook Promise today welcomed two new proposed changes that will strengthen the nation’s background check system by clarifying the language that prevents individuals with certain mental health issues from purchasing firearms. The announcement was issued by the White House and involves draft rules proposed by the Departments of Justice and Health and Human Services.
On Saturday, Nicole Hockley will do what she has done every day for the past year. She will mourn the death of her son Dylan, who will forever be 6 years old after he and 19 of his first-grade schoolmates at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn., were killed by an invading gunman.
“We live with that loss every single day, so the one-year mark is just another day for us,” she said.
Along with her husband, Ian, and Dylan’s big brother, Jake, Hockley will spend Saturday privately, “having some quiet time together,” she said.
In the wake of the violence that also killed six educators, much of the Hockleys’ grief has been visible in public as they have put their energy into advocacy on a number of fronts.
On December 14, 2012, Nicole Hockley’s world turned upside down. Her son Dylan was one of 20 children and 6 educators murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary School. She joined with others in the community to create Sandy Hook Promise to make change. The symbol of that change is the tree that continues to grow, with leaves representing all those we lost.
Right now, we at Sandy Hook Promise are all changing our Facebook profile pictures to this image of the Promise tree to show the world that on 12/14 we all stand together to prevent gun violence.
Will you join us and do the same?
How to show your Promise on Facebook
How to show your Promise on Twitter
We were horrified to hear today of a school shooting at Arapahoe High School in Colorado, just one day before the one year mark of the Sandy Hook shootings. Tragically, this shooting marks the 25th school shooting in the one year since December 14. Our hearts are with all the families of Arapahoe High School today. It's time to start a new conversation to protect our children.
--Tim Makris, Executive Director of Sandy Hook Promise
One month ago, Sandy Hook Promise unveiled our Parent Together initiative on Good Morning America. Since then, millions of people have heard our Parent Together message and celebrities like Snoop Dogg, Alyssa Milano, Sofia Vergara, Ed O'Neill and more have made the Promise to Parent Together. Countless media outlets have written about our efforts to build a community of people who put children first.
Recently, Nicole Hockley, David Wheeler, Mark and Jackie Barden, parents to Dylan, Ben, and Daniel, who were killed one year ago tomorrow at Sandy Hook Elementary School, and Bill Sherlach, whose wife Mary Sherlach was one of the six educators killed, sat down to talk about their loss and their work with Sandy Hook Promise to build a safer world for all children.
Newtown still needs a hug. Don't be fooled by my hometown's prickly approach to the media, or even to well-wishers with their legions of teddy bears and letters. It is not a show of anger or entitlement that town leaders are asking the press to allow the community to mourn privately the 20 first-graders and six educators massacred a year ago Saturday at Sandy Hook Elementary School. Newtowners are not shirking a responsibility to remember and record what happened. They just need space and time to heal.
The nation and the media understandably want to connect with Newtown, Conn., and to help pay tribute to the innocent lives taken on that awful day last December. It is a natural extension of the extraordinary love, empathy and compassion shown even by complete strangers from the other side of the world.
But those residing inside the bubble of trauma are reminded constantly of what happened last year — through routine chats at the grocery store, at every glimpse of green ribbon or stickers in car windows. Every seemingly mundane act has taken its own significance in the 12 months since the shooting.
For Newtowners, it has not just been birthdays and holidays that have seemed as if they are being experienced for the first time. There have been the continual reminders that this community of 28,000 will never be the same.
The recent release of the police report and 911 calls reopened the wounds of 12/14. But so, too, have annual landmarks such as the start of the academic year and the first lockdown exercise in schools. Even the incremental processes of local government, whether it's ratifying the budget or electing school board members, have been imbued with tragic significance.
Nothing has been more consistently difficult than the birthdays of lost neighbors. The sheer frequency of them, 26 in all, serves as a constant reminder of the lives brutally cut short that morning.
We have put purple balloons on mailboxes for Dylan Hockley, our middle schoolers wore their sports jerseys for Jack Pinto, and families lit candles in their windows forBen Wheeler. As parents of the living, it is nightmarish to contemplate a day without a seventh candle on a birthday cake, or a wedding anniversary frozen in time.
Every holiday since 12/14 has reminded us how embedded our traditions are with rituals designed to engage children and nurture their wonder. Thanksgiving was especially brutal as so many of our neighbors grappled with an empty place at the table. But Halloween, every child's favorite holiday, was perhaps the hardest, not least given the town's embrace of the day. Thousands of youngsters paraded down historic Main Street, past the flagpole, the Edmond Town Hall and, sadly, the funeral home that cared for so many of the dead that day.
And though the entire community is toiling through some form of post-traumatic stress, it has united in surprising ways. Sure, there are many latent disagreements — and a few public ones — about what sort of treatment will be needed to help those most affected by the shooting; what to do about guns, laws, America's violent culture and mental health; how best to help parents; and where the money that came to town should be spent.
Some of these issues will never be resolved and may get knottier over time. In that sense, this New England village is emblematic of the nation.
Yet the town has united on many important matters such as building a new Sandy Hook school, preventing the publication of images from the crime scene, even adoptingnew rules on recreational firearms within Newtown's borders. From these agreements, there is a hopeful sense that, together, like our great country, we can find a way to ensure that Sandy Hook is not just remembered as a place of tragedy and victims, but one where change began.
For now, though, the families of Newtown, particularly those who lost so much, need to reflect and mourn in their own personal and private ways. It is encouraging that they joined forces this week to create a website with links to the various foundations they started to honor their loved ones.
Eventually this community will be ready to accept the embrace of the world. And it will give a big bear hug right back.
Rob Cox is co-founder of Sandy Hook Promise, a non-profit started after the school shooting, and editor in chief of Reuters Breakingviews.
Mark Barden still cannot believe his son Daniel is no longer here to cuddle on snowy winter mornings or challenge him to foosball games before school.
"In those first few seconds when I'm awake, I still have to think, 'Was this whole thing just a horrible dream?' " he says. "I still find myself trying to comprehend it, as we all are."
Barden lost his 7-year-old son on Dec. 14, 2012, when 20-year-old Adam Lanza stormed into Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn., killing 20 first graders, including Daniel, and six educators before turning the gun on himself.
In the year since the massacre, Mark, 49, Jackie, 47, and their children, James, 13, and Natalie, 11, have struggled without the little boy "who always worried about everyone else," says Mark. "It's been god-awful. And yet, we have had so much love and support from our family, neighbors and community."
Indeed, the Bardens have relied on their close-knit family – 40 relatives who have been there for them nonstop since the shooting – as well as new friends to help them through their darkest days. Connecticut State Troopers Dennis Keane and Tamia Tucker, who were assigned to help the family after the tragedy, have become close friends.
Keane, who was there when the Bardens learned they had lost Daniel, says, "There's not one day that I don't think of them. I put Daniel's mass card in my uniform pocket over my heart every single day."
Tucker feels the same way: "They have become my family," she says.
Help with Healing
Working to try to prevent another Newtown tragedy has also helped the Bardens in their "healing," says Mark. As a member of Sandy Hook Promise, the grassroots organization that parents formed after the shooting, Mark has traveled around the country to talk about "lessening gun violence and improving mental health care," he says. He is now promoting the group's new campaign, Parent Together, "to find solutions together about gun safety."
But it's the moving Facebook page that the Bardens' niece, Jackie Pickett, started after Daniel died – WWDD: What Would Daniel Do – and which promotes Daniel-like acts of kindness, that has given the Bardens the most hope.
"Just to read one comment from someone who says, 'I'm a different person now,' is amazing," says Pickett. Based on its success, the Bardens are creating a WWDD-inspired foundation, which will offer acts-of-kindness programs in schools and communities. "I believe I am following my calling, especially in honoring Daniel and the way he was truly compassionate," says Mark.
None of this makes their loss any easier. On the night before Daniel died, Jackie says, "I remember hugging him and thinking, 'Gosh, he feels so good. He is so warm and cuddly.' It's still so hard."
As more holidays without the boy they "still miss so much" approach, the Bardens will, once again, spend time with the people they love. "If we didn't have all of that, I don't know what we would do," says Mark.