An Open Letter to the Ones who Freed a School Shooter
I want to tell you about what it was like to be a student at High Point University on August 28, 2019. I want to tell you about what it was like to be a cast member in one of the potential tragedies of the American school system, about the day where the excitement of being back on campus turned into fervent prayers that our dorm rooms would not become our funeral homes. To be honest, I never knew Paul Steber. In fact, I don’t think I would even recognize his face if it weren’t for when it was forced in front of my eyes over and over again, reminding us about what should’ve happened, but didn’t.
Too often, people are deemed as a “threat to society” after the crime has already been committed. They are labeled this after they have caused irrepressible damage, gouged deep emotional scars, and left communities with nothing but unimaginable grief to latch onto. But in this situation, we caught the threat. We brought him to you before any lives were lost. We brought him to you so that we might experience the luxury of finding out about what he had planned to do to us, rather than experience it firsthand.
We could have caught it sooner however, considering that he had been planning this attack since December of his senior year of high school, when he decided to come to our university because it was in a state where he could easily obtain a gun. We could have caught it when we saw the warning signs of his increased infatuation with school shootings, researching and taking notes on how they were carried out and fixating on videos about what happened in Charleston. We could have caught it when classmates started noticing these things occurring “every single day in class.” But one brave roommate had to endure what no college freshman could ever understand and take it upon himself to save the student body he had only just met. I think about what it must have been like for him in the moment that he found out that the one sleeping across the room wanted to be a murderer. I think about the fearless bravery he had to possess in order to find the evidence and report it, knowing that every move could possibly cost him his life.
Upon his arrest, Steber admitted to the district attorney that if he didn’t get into a fraternity, that would be the moment that would trigger his plan into action. This confession was made two days before recruitment began and exactly eight days after the first day of school — this tragedy was on the brink of execution. I sat next to the recruitment director of one of the fraternities on campus and watched him whither under the knowledge that an insignificant decision about who to let into the fraternity could have ended the lives of everyone on campus. Friends gathered in a joined emotion of tearful relief as mandatory meetings were being held, providing us an opportunity to look around the room and wonder which of us weren’t supposed to be there. Nobody was hurt, yet we were all filled with pain.
Our pain and fear shouldn’t be discounted simply because a gun wasn’t fired. This whole incident should not be passed off as a sigh of relief and Paul Steber certainly should not be charged with these crimes, only to get off on a plea deal that would cost him a mere minimum sentence of 5 months. How is it that he spent nearly 10 months planning a mass shooting, only to potentially spend half that amount paying for it? In the court of law, there is emphasis placed on the intent of ones actions, sometimes rather than the action itself. Steber had a written plan, weapons, and a timeline of destruction already mapped out — how much more “intent” could you need??
Sadly, this heroic effort to stop the shooting at HPU only foiled one plan out of hundreds that actually result in lives being lost in the vulnerable place of education. We as Americans have suffered and witnessed these tragic losses that so many are forced to endure, and we have fought valiantly against blind assassins that could be anywhere and everywhere. However, we never thought that this fight had to include the ones who we trust to carry out justice. Life is precious and deserves protecting, so when someone openly admits to wanting to take it away from a multitude of people, we pray that those placed in a position of responsibility will uphold that gift of life. However on July 28, 2020, justice was not served. It wasn’t served to the students who had their world completely transformed by the fact that they narrowly escaped a tragedy that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. It wasn’t served to the families who sent their beloved children away, trusting that they would be safe on their own. It wasn’t served to the parents who have devoted their lives to fighting so that no other family would have to experience losing a child in the same manner that they did. The “threat to society” was reprimanded with a slap on the wrist, and that isn’t justice.
I understand that it may be difficult to evaluate what is just in an incident that thankfully never occurred, but to put it in perspective, the last time a school shooting was foiled was in February of 2018. That perpetrator was sentenced TO A MINIMUM OF 22 1/2 YEARS IN PRISON. Same crime, yet nearly 54 times the amount spent paying for it. So while I know the deal has already been made and the emotional damage has already been done, I implore you to remember the impact that has ricocheted under the surface. I want you to know that each student is still permanently changed by what happened on August 28, 2019. I want this incident to stand as a reminder of what could have happened, and what didn’t, and how that is no excuse to excuse it.