Originally, I had a gathering scheduled for Saturday at my home for a local group and to go to the Garlic Festival on Sunday. Our local group decided to postpone which made attending the Colbie Callait concert possible, so we took the opportunity. We decided to Lyft down Wren to the levee trail. Walked through the gates, security, metal detectors with our hats and cooling towels. We made it across the park and found our spot to enjoy the concert. After, we got ice cream, pesto and shrimp scampi ... I was at complete peace with garlic. As the fest was winding down for the day, my accommodating husband agreed to walk home with me. We talked as we walked block after block, enjoying the breeze.
On Sunday at 2pm I get the call from Kid#3 ready to be picked up from his shift volunteering for the day at the Gfest. I park in a weird spot on Santa Theresa as he makes his way across the parking area up by CHS. We get home, gather K#5 and K#2 and head to Santa Cruz for the rest of the day.
We were sitting at DeLaveaga Park, catching the last bits of cell signal before disappearing into the Santa Cruz Mountains. The reports were coming in about the shooting at the Garlic Festival. My husband was back in Gilroy, I reached out to him before heading out of reach.
When we returned to cell signal my phone was going crazy. Texts, messages, voicemails, posts, it was overwhelming. I told K2 to post a generic post on FB and write a quick text that says we are all ok and send to everyone who reached out. That night when we got home, the sound of helicopters was deafening. We had errands, a life to continue to live, with this huge cloud of fear, uncertainty and violent death looming over our little town.
"WHO CARES ABOUT GILROY." I would say. Making a statement because no one should be taking the time to answer. That's how I convinced myself that I was always safe here.
Why would anyone target our town fundraiser?
That night, I didn't sleep. I couldn't. We slept with every window closed in the house. I kept checking on the kids. The sounds of helicopters was so loud I could feel it. The next day, it was hard to do anything. It feels like a blur and I only remember attending the vigil that night. I was so upset at the national media circus. The amount of noise they create is exasperating. We are a small town. Give us some space.
When I got home that night I looked at the large piece of metallic sticker sheeting I was given by a local sign company. I decided to make GilroyStrong decals out of it strictly for donations to the Gilroy Foundation. That helped to drown out the sound of the circling helicopters on the second night. We attended another vigil held downtown Thursday that week, downtown. Now, almost a month later, the "GILROY STRONG" banner still hangs across Monterey.
The City of Gilroy is still restoring Christmas Hill Park. Typically the park goes through a rehab after the Gfest anyway, but this one is a lot more involved. I drove by this morning and security is still sitting at the top of the Miller mound. The corners are still decorated with signs, flowers and animals for the young lives lost. Our town loves you, and we send you peace. <3
There is so much more pain that trickles through a community when a tragedy like this happens. The best way I have been able to cope is by being with others. Mostly, I've been pushing myself to attend events where I don't know anyone. I was able to attend the Ohlone Elder's Blessing on August 10th. It was powerful and incredible. It's amazing this community that has come together to heal. K5 and I signed up for CPR Certification, and spent most of our day learning what was TV and what to do in a real situation.
Next, I'm looking to join the local chapter of the Mothers Demand Action. One step at a time.
No comments:
Post a Comment