Chicago Tribune, 9-22-99

IN THEIR OWN WAY

By Janna L. Graber

Littleton, Colo. When two young gunmen stormed into Columbine High

School last April, killing 13 people and themselves and wounding

hundreds of others--mentally and physically--an illusion of safety and

trust was shattered. But pain and hurt can't last forever. Since that

day, people here and elsewhere have taken measures to ensure that

murder and rampage won't have the last say in Littleton. Here are

several women who are working to restore hope and peace to a healing

community:

Lobbying for change

Sophomore Erin Flynn doesn't like to talk about where she was on April

20. She will only say that she was at Columbine High School that day.

"I lost two really close friends in the shootings," Flynn says.

"Another friend was badly wounded."

It was a heart-wrenching experience for the 15-year-old, and one that

changed her perspective on many issues--especially gun legislation in

America.

"There are so many things that need to be changed in this country,"

she says. "An 18-year-old can buy an assault weapon, and that scares

me."

In July, Flynn and 94 other students from 31 schools throughout

Colorado went to Washington to lobby for stricter gun regulations. The

trip was sponsored by SAFE Colorado (Safe Alternatives to the Firearms

Epidemic), a bipartisan group that seeks reasonable gun legislation.

The teens, ages 15-21, lobbied congressmen, aides and even President

Clinton for legislation that would require child-safety locks on every

handgun sold, require gun show background checks, and ban anyone under

18 from possessing a firearm.

"We are here because we have already seen too much violence in our

lives," the group wrote in an open letter they sent to the Members of

Congress. "All of us want it to stop."

John Head, a lawyer and co-founder of SAFE Colorado, was impressed by

the students' passion. "These kids are articulate," he says. "They are

confident, and what they are saying makes sense."

But not everybody they spoke to was listening, Flynn says.

"I was disappointed with some of the politicians, especially some from

Colorado," she says. "Their answers to school shootings don't make

sense. What they want to do doesn't seem like it would change

anything."

While many politicians took time to listen to the students, others

merely paid them lip service, or took advantage of photo opportunities

with the teens, Flynn says. One congressman bluntly stated that he

didn't have time for the students, and that they should just "write

him a letter."

Still, Flynn and the others returned home even more determined to work

for change. They began a national youth movement called SAFE Students,

a group dedicated to reducing gun violence. Flynn and several others

have started a chapter at Columbine High School.

"Our goal is to move this issue from the back burner to the front,"

she says.

A blanket of love

As a mother of three, Carolyn Lanzkron of Natick, Mass., met news of

the Columbine tragedy with the same reaction as thousands of others.

"I think we were all horrified and surprised when faced with the

banality of evil," she says.

Though thousands of miles away from Littleton, Lanzkron wanted to

reach out to comfort those who had suffered in Colorado. She did it

the only way she knew how--by quilting.

Lanzkron suggested to an Internet newsgroup of quilters

(rec.crafts.textiles.quilting) that they make a memorial quilt. Their

reaction was positive, and more than 20 women volunteered. At last

count, 135 quilters were participating in the memorial quilt effort.

More than 250 quilting squares have been sent in from all over the

world.

The idea behind the quilt is to honor the memories of the murdered,

and to offer good wishes and hope to the injured, Lanzkron says.

"For many of the quilters, this is the vehicle for delivering a love

letter and a prayer to the families of Columbine," she says. "Many of

the quilters have lost children. We have quilters from Littleton and

surrounding towns who have chosen to make a block to honor the memory

of a friend. Others have chosen blocks for victims who have the same

name as their own children or family members."

Coloradan Joan Diamond made 10 squares. The tragedy hit her hard, she

says. "I lost my own son to murder 12 years ago. I understand that

empty, cold feeling when a part of your life is chipped away. If

someone had given me a quilt, it would have helped me feel not so

alone."

"Making a quilt square wasn't much," says Debi Irwin of Fox River

Grove, Ill., "but it was a way of reaching out to people whose lives

were shattered and letting them know I cared."

All the squares for the quilt have now been collected. Christine

Tesauro of Pittstown, N.J., will assemble them, then send the pieces

to Austin, Texas, where Christi Tompkins and several other women will

stitch the quilt. The quilt will make a final stop in Burlington,

Mass., where Sandy Mercado will add the binding before sending it off

to Colorado. It's still undecided where the 15-foot-square quilt will

hang, although possibilities include making it a part of an exhibit at

the state capital or part of a Columbine memorial.

"This quilt is an example of what happens when quilters hear of

someone who needs to be wrapped in a blanket of love," Lanzkron says.

Seeing a need and filling it

During the five months since the Columbine shootings, a small group of

Colorado women has been working behind the scenes, serving a wounded

community in various ways. Hundreds of home-cooked meals have been

made and delivered to the victims. Donated furniture has miraculously

appeared on the doorsteps of those Columbine families who must

renovate their homes to accommodate wheelchair-bound loved ones.

Baby-sitting services have been provided for parents who have spent

hours, days, waiting in hospital rooms.

These women aren't part of an organization. They are, simply, three

Littleton moms who saw a need and decided to fill it.

Julie Kuenstler, a mother of two Columbine students, was the first to

act. The day after the shootings, Kuenstler, a good friend of one of

the families, called them and asked if there was any way she could

help.

Thankful for her offer, they told her no. Four days later, they called

back and said they had not had a decent meal in days. Kuenstler jumped

on it, taking food for 20 to Swedish Hospital.

Through a series of contacts at Kuenstler's church and another

Littleton family, Kuenstler teamed up with Mary Shutts and Laura

Chlumsky. Although the three women had never met, they formed a

tightly organized and efficient team. One called for volunteer cooks;

another called the hospitals to offer hot meals to the families.

During the past months, the women have made sure that each family's

privacy is respected, yet they try to meet any need they become aware

of, even delivering the root beer floats that one student requested.

"The needs of these families are so great," Kuenstler says. "Some

haven't gone back to work; others still face major surgeries. We just

want to show them people care. Families in these situations don't have

time to take care of themselves, to deal with broken cars or shop for

home repairs. If they say they have a need we jump on it."

"There's nothing in parenting books that prepares you for a situation

like Columbine," says Chlumsky, also a mother of two Columbine

students. "I've been amazed at the outpouring of care that's come out

of this. Vendors around town have been wonderful as well, donating

needed items. In anything, this shows that there is still good in

people. We don't want to dwell on the bad. This is our way of looking

forward from this tragic event."

"There are two ways to heal from a tragedy like this," adds Kuenstler,

"either with love or with anger. If you heal with anger, then you're

adding to the problem. If you heal with love, then you're preventing

further problems. Call me naive, but I believe that."