I remember the whole day feeling ominous.
My mother-in-law was supposed to drive us to the airport that morning and arrived at our house an hour earlier than expected. Her clocks were wrong at the house and there was heavy snowfall that morning. Both contributed to her feeling worried about us and getting to our house early. I remember not wanting to leave bed and sluggishly pulling myself up, wishing there was coffee in the house and hoping to stop for a coffee on the way to the airport that morning. Instead we loaded up the car and headed straight to the airport, and made it to our terminal with plenty of time to spare. Erich's phone was already dead and he was trying to charge it while reading his book "The Disaster Artist." I was busy texting pictures and videos to my mom, sister, and brother-in-law - the ones taking care of my house and animals while I was away. I clearly remember wanting to document our whole trip until we got to the boat. That thought kept popping up at ever significant stop we made.
As we enter the plane, we place our baggage in the over head compartment. The emblem of my bag fell off as we stuffed the case in the compartment. We made the joke"If that's the worse thing to happen to us today, then we are doing well.
The plane took off late. I've always hated the take off and landing of plans. I squeeze Erich's hand and hold on tight every time. This day was no different. The plane arrived late. We had to run through the Atlanta airport, to catch our other flight to Ft Lauderdale. We had to gate check our two bags we had with us and the plane took off within minutes of us taking our seats.
As we ascended above the clouds I had the thought I wonder if this is what dying feels like. Immediately followed by a poor "Final Destination" joke, after which I pull out my new book Trigger Warning, by Neil Gaiman and start reading. I feel like all the signs were there but I didn't listen to them. I wonder if anyone else experienced anything similar that day or in any moments leading to disaster.
We arrive at the airport in Fort Lauderdale. I ask Erich if he wants to grab lunch now or wait on his family to arrive. He suggested going down to the baggage claim immediately. As we pass up the restaurants and head to the baggage claim, signs said WARNING: NO REENTRY BEYOND THIS POINT (or something similar). I point it out to Erich to make sure he was sure. He was. We went to the baggage claim.
We pass a Starbucks down by Claim 1. I make a note of it in my mind, still wanting some delicious coffee I've been craving since we left our house. Our gate-checked bags arrived in Claim 3 but we were missing the bag we checked in Louisville. We found out it didn't make the plane (as we barely made it ourselves) and it would be there on the next flight. We just had to sit tight and wait. We had plenty of time to wait, as Erich's family was about an hour and a half behind us on their journey to Ft. Lauderdale as well.
We sat in the chairs closest to the conveyor belt. I snapchat and send pictures to my friends, letting them know our bag was lost Woe is us... I put down my phone, look Erich in his eyes and tell him "We should have an actual conversation. Put our phones down, look at each other, and talk!" He makes a funny face and I say "Never mind. I don't know if I can look at your face." I suggested maybe going over to the Starbucks. But something came over me. I no longer wanted a coffee. He got up and insisted we get one but I immediately changed my mind and asked him to sit with me and we will wait on the coffee.
Now we've arrived at the part that I don't want to write. This is the part where I start to get overly emotional. I am forcing myself to write it because I need to. I only started writing to tell this part of the story. Here we go.
I hear 3 gun shots. It wasn't a "Bang" as much as a loud "POP" sound. People started to run and get down on the ground. During the first 3 POP noises, I found myself thinking "THis is just a joke. Someone is playing around" and before I finish that thought Erich grabs me tight around my arm and pulls me to the right and forces me down on the ground. I tilt my head up to see him. Gun in hand, Smoke swirling around him. Eyes are dark and unfocused I see him aim and I feel Erich, again, push my head down and he covers me as best as he can. Two more shots where I saw him aim POP POP.
My brain is struggling to make sense of it all. Maybe it was a disagreement. Two people fought and one shot. It's over now." But everyone stayed on the ground and shots traveled the room. I see his shoes come our way and I start to panic. I couldn't control my breathing. There was another man, down on the ground to the right and in front of us. He started calling out descriptions of the man and telling us what to do, as well as trying to talk the man down from shooting anyone else. He would shout stuff like "Everyone stay down, stay down!" "He's wearing a blue shirt, blue shirt." He heard my breathing and told us "it will all be okay." I was scared that his yelling was going to attract the shooter our way but I was so glad that someone was telling me what to do. The shooters shoes disappeared. "He's leaving everyone" the man to our right shouted."
I started feeling - I can't say what I was feeling but I know it was pure terror when the man to our right started yelling "He's coming back! STAY DOWN!"
I knew I was going to die. This was it. I knew it. It was not a theory but a fact that I was going to die here and now. The shots came faster this time. I looked as he shot someone on the ground POP. The shots got closer and closer to us. I can never forget the sound the gun made. POP. Over and over again. Closer and Closer. I was breathing so loud and erratically now. I felt Erich squeeze me tighter, still shielding me from whatever may come my way. I see his shoes again. POP. The gun went off so close to me... Right next to me. This is it. This is it. I am dead. I know it. I am dead. This is real and I am dead. I open my eyes. I am not even sure when I closed them or if I closed them. I see his shoes leaving our area. That must have been his last shot I hoped. I don't remember much that happened after that. Just eventually a group of officers running past us. What took them so long? We were on the ground forever! Why weren't they shooting him?!
Everyone started getting up slowly. I sat up. I look over to the guy next to me on my left. The guy right next to me. I could touch him. I wanted to touch him. He is in front of our bags, right where we were sitting. I want to shake him and tell him it's over and he can get up now... but I knew. Before I realized it, I knew.
I am hysterical now. Erich is trying to get me to focus on him, but my eyes keep going to the man on the ground. I focus on his shoes. I cannot see anything but his shoes. I hear Erich and I know his hands are on me and I know I am crying but I can't feel him. I cannot see him. All I can see is the man and his shoes. Brown Shoes. They didn't even seem that comfortable; just something to slide off and on easily for TSA checks. A women gets up. She notices the man and crawls over to him. She sees her husband. That's what she says in a calm manner, That's my husband, as she crawls closer to him... I think she starts to realize it now. I have ope, false hope that maybe he's just scared to get up. But then she starts to wail "THAT'S MY HUSBAND! OH GOD WHY?!" She starts to cry. I can't feel or think. I want to reach out to her to comfort her but I can't move. I am frozen. I see her grabbing him and I see his shoes and I am begging with him to move his feet and get up. I know. She knows. She's crying. Someone else comforts her. Where are the police? What just happened? Why is no one helping us? Why can I not feel Erich touching me? Why can I only see this guy's shoes now knowing they will never move. I see the blood now. I see the panic. I see Erich. I am trying to focus on him. How long has he been talking to me? What happened??
It feels like hours before paramedics arrive. I signal them to the lady next to me but they are too busy with other bodies. One in front of the Starbucks. One in baggage claim 2, the one I saw him aim and fire at. I saw his execution. They don't come for the man in the brown shoes until later.
We are directed to move. Fresh gun powder is covering all of our things. Our bags, our jackets, our phones. They were all left in our chairs, where we were sitting, where the man was laying in front of. Did he notice our emblem missing from our bag as he waiting on the ground? What were his last thoughts? His body is still there as I grab my phone - knowing I have to contact my family. So much gun powder is covering it. I bury myself into Erich's chest as he hugs me close and we move where we are directed to the other side of baggage claim, to claim 1. There are exit doors that face the parking garage in front of us, as well as that Starbucks. I don't see the paramedics grab the man in brown. I am scared to watch, knowing it will confirm without a doubt what happened and crush the hope I was holding on to.
We think it's over now. I still cannot feel anything. I think I am dead. It's a thought that doesn't leave my head. It's weird how your brain plays tricks on you. I really thought I was going to die so my mind was convinced I did.
Less than an hour later, the police that are in the are room yell to lock all the doors and orders everyone to get back down on the ground. I panic again. I feel like this is a much bigger attack. That I am going to be a statistic or a number in a news headline. The officers order everyone to stay down. They then explain that there may be a second shooter and someone in the room could be an accomplice. I cried as they spent the next hour searching is from down on the ground. I was still having trouble breathing and didn't have my inhaler on me.
Eventually they searched everyone, but we had to turn in our belongings and bags to the FBI who arrived. We were still stuck at the crime scene with no word if they caught the second shooter or not. Bathroom breaks were supervised and terrifying. You never knew if there was a bomb or if someone else was going to shoot up the place again. I couldn't stop myself from shaking. The FBI called for people who had photo/video or any kind of evidence on them to come forward. Erich went forward as our bags had evidence on them. I was left alone for at least an hour I believe. Time and events started getting fuzzy by this point.
A young man noticed I was having trouble breathing and got me a paper bag from Starbucks to help control it better. There was a family next to me - Father, mother, son. The mother had blood on her shirt from trying to help a victim. She was taken away to the FBI as the blood was evidence. I tried to text my mom with updates. I still couldn't talk or breath normally at this point. Finally Erich comes back with an FBI agent named Ryan. I give him details of what I saw and was surprised at how much detail I remembered at that moment. Then he left and we were confused again with no real update.
I don't know how much time passed at this point. We arrived at the airport around 11:30 AM and I believe it was almost 4 or 5 PM now. That's when the doors that were supposed to be locked flung open. People, high school kids I think, started running in with no explanation. I immediately think "Oh god. This is it. This is truly it.." again. and Erich and I start running too. The officers yelled for everyone to get down and shouted at the runners to STOP! I had no idea what was happening and began to hyperventilate. It was just a bunch of scared kids stuck out on the Tarmac and forced their way in. They were instructed to leave and go back outside. They still thought the second shooter was outside. The left and the doors were locked behind them. We were then moved upstairs to another part of the airport.
Upstairs is where we spent the remainder of the night. They had to interview every person who was down at the baggage claim. EMT's were there and I was able to get a breathing treatment that made me feel almost normal again. We took turns at a wall outlet charging our phones, so we all could contact our loved ones. People were exchanging stories about what happened and no one was giving us real answers about what was going on. They had found a suspicious package at this time and had a controlled detonation. I still, to this day, do not know if it was a bomb or some poor saps luggage that was destroyed. As the FBI sends me updates on the case, this is one mystery I would love to have solved. We were in the room until 9:00 PM. I still couldn't feel anything.
The FBI releases us. We were able to claim the bags they took from us with evidence on them before we left. But our other bag we were waiting on... who knows. We hopped on a bus after having several news camera shoved in our face and was taken to Port 1, where the area was secure and waiting for us.
We waited at the port for an hour or so. I don't remember the time. It was probably around 10 or 10:30 PM before we were picked up by Erich's family. Traffic was a mess, there were a ton of people at the airport still. His family's flight was re-routed to Miami and they had to drive up to pick us up. His family didn't ask questions. We didn't talk. We made it to the hotel where a drunk lady saw we just came from the airport and was telling us about a guy who got shot there, but his laptop saved him. She laughed. I cried. The rest of the night was surreal. Most of our stuff was lost and everyone was encouraging us to go on the cruise. I wanted to go home. I called my mom. She was passed out asleep. I called my sister who answered. I don't know what we chatted about. I called a few other people... I don't remember talking to them.
Here it is January 31st [when I original wrote this] and I still have to look over my shoulder. I dream almost every night that I am dying, that the world is coming to an end, or that I am being shot in the head. Loud noises trigger me into a panic attack. I cry thinking about anything concerning it. I flash back and feel like I am still being hunted and that reality is a dream. Two types of medication and a weekly psychiatrist appointment later... I feel like I can start trying to move past this. Move past the guilt. Why am I alive but the man in the brown shoes, who was where I was sitting, in front of my bags... Why isn't he? His name was Terry Andres. His wife was Ann Andres. They were going on a cruise I believe to celebrate their wedding anniversary or his birthday. He was kind and loved.
EDIT: Warning, graphic images. So here is an uncensored video someone took with their phone moments after the attack. Seriously, GRAPHIC. Do not watch. I debated putting this on here or not. I decided to for one reason only. As part of my documentation of the events of the day. Proof that it really happened. You can see Erich in his red shirt in the back at the beginning until about second 5.. He is trying to comfort me. The sound you hear is a high pitched alarm. It something the airport sounded as soon as the police came running through our area. It reminded me of something you would hear in a movie where a gun goes off near someone's ear. The high pitched noise they add to the background... It had to be modeled off this noise. Near the end of the video, you see victims, uncensored. I am begging you not to watch it if you cannot stomach it. But it happened. This is proof that it happened. I am right there in the back. You can see Anne to the right side of the video in the first 6 seconds. She is wearing white, on the floor, covering her husband. I remember now seeing Terry on the floor and scooting away from him. That's when Erich tries to comfort me. Click here for the video.
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