Wear Orange
Trigger warning: Discussion and images of gun violence.
On May 4, 2018, my family became a statistic. We became part of the 58% of American adults who have been impacted by or experienced gun violence in their lifetime and the approximately three million American children to witness gun violence. Our story is not unique, and is much less tragic than others, but it is ours and it has changed the trajectory of our lives.
Driving through Hall County, Georgia, headed up to a wedding celebration, a young man took to shooting cars along the highway. Our car was hit near the back windshield. There was a loud pop and glass showered down on my two children, 7- and 10-years-old at the time. We pulled to the center median and got out. My partner, Chris, immediately recognized the hole in the car as one made by a bullet. We quickly got back in the car and drove to a deserted gas station about 50 yards away. We pulled around to the back, got out of the car, and crouched next to the building on the side furthest from the road. My older child was chillingly calm and was soothing my younger child. We called 911 and very quickly heard sirens. Chris went to help with first aid - he had seen another driver on the side of the road with blood running down their leg. I stayed with my children - scared beyond belief and not really knowing what would happen next. Eventually, the police came and hours later we were picked up by other friends headed to the wedding. The weekend remains a blur and much of that celebration did not make it into my long-term memory. We recounted the story several times over that weekend while it remained surreal.
That was just about three years ago. I still cannot talk about it (or write about it) without crying. Without seeing my young children crouched in the backseat of the car, where my older child’s face was bleeding and my younger child had a look of terror in his eyes. That image still haunts me to this day. When I look at the image of our car, I can’t help but think about those seconds that allowed me to keep my life. As the driver of the car, if the timing was just a tiny bit different, that bullet would have hit my head. And while the flashbacks have stopped, I know the trauma still lives in my body - it always will.
But what I think is even worse is that my children did not think it was strange. That summer, as we tried to process the experience as a family, my older child said that he was sure it would happen again to him in his lifetime. He felt calm in the moment because he knew his parents would protect him. He was reassured because Chris was calm and able to act as a first responder. He told us that he’d be okay because knew where all the exits were in his school and had memorized their active shooting drill. All of this at 10 years old. This is what our country is - this is what our children have as their reality.
As I write this, I look at the most current statistics on gun violence in the United States: in the last 72 hours, I find there have been over 300 acts of gun violence; gun violence impacts communities of color at higher rates, every 16 hours a woman is shot dead by a current or former partner, and every day 8 children are shot unintentionally by family fire. I mourn each time I hear of a mass shooting - the most recent one this past Wednesday, May 26th in San Jose, CA.
I reflect on my own experience and these statistics as we approach Wear Orange Weekend (June 4th - 6th). This will be the first year since that Friday in May 2018 that I am not on the ultimate field coaching. The first year I cannot use my presence at an ultimate event to raise awareness - by wearing orange on the field - and to try to inspire others to get involved.
So instead, I write this post. I sit at my computer and cry as I look up recent statistics and relive my trauma. I hope that this story inspires people to action. I hope all of our stories eventually change the country.
Eileen Murray, Joseph Hatton, David Hogg (survivor of the Stoneman Douglas High School shooting and gun control activist); August 2018