Shooter at the Airport

I was a young child when my grandmother and I went to an airport to meet a relative. We waited near the baggage claim doors, which were made of glass so arriving passengers could be seen collecting their luggage.

I remember being talkative until my grandmother suddenly grabbed my hand and gave me a serious look telling me to be quiet. She was listening to an argument beside us between an older man and a heavily pregnant woman. I had not been paying attention, but then I heard the older man repeatedly shout something like, “There he is. I’m going to get him.”

A man came through the sliding doors. People immediately began screaming. My grandmother threw me to the ground and lay over me. I heard sounds like fireworks and felt the heat and smoke of the gunfire. When I tried to lift my head, I saw blood on the floor and people lying down with their hands over their heads.

My grandmother pushed my head back down and whispered, “Stop and play dead, now,” in the most serious voice I had ever heard from her. I was frightened and confused, but I stayed still.

After a while, she moved me behind a large pillar, where a police officer told me that everything would be all right. Other people were hiding there as well. We heard officers shouting and the older man crying. Eventually, the police led me to a room where I answered questions. As they moved me, an officer covered my eyes, but I briefly saw the pregnant woman lying on her back. The image stayed with me.

My grandmother explained the rest much later. The older man was the pregnant woman’s father. She had become pregnant by the man who came through the doors, and the father blamed him for abandoning her and ruining her life. He had decided to confront him when he returned. The daughter tried to tell her father that she loved the man and begged him not to do anything.

When the man appeared with his luggage, the father drew a gun and began firing. He wounded other people, and when he aimed at the man again, the pregnant woman stepped in front of him. She, the man, and the unborn child were killed. The police arrived quickly, surrounded the father, and eventually took the gun from him.

My grandmother said the entire event lasted only a short time, although it felt endless to me. She had protected me so completely that I did not understand the full danger until many years later. I am still grateful that she noticed the argument, recognized the threat, and acted before I had any idea what was happening.