“ The Columbine class of 1999 had its picture taken on the bleachers of the gymnasium, with close to four hundred kids packed together like one big, happy family. Up in the far left-hand corner of that picture were Eric, Dylan, and me.
Zack Heckler and Robyn Anderson were up there with us. We learmed we would be doing two different poses: an "official” or serious class photo and a silly one. Since he was offering us the chance to do a “silly” picture, the photographer figured we wouldn’t do anything to screw up the serious one. We were instructed to hold still for tge extended exposure of the pixture, so all of us gave our best “serious looks” to the camera.
When it came time for the “silly shot,” Erix donned his KMFDM hate, and he and Dylan both put on shades. Eric suggested that, since we were having a camera pointed at us, it would be cool to point imaginary guns back. So the five of us pantomimed doing exactly that.
It seemed like a funny thing to do. I never thought twice about it. “
Richard Pool was born in 1922 and passed away in 2015 at the age of 93.
Elaine Pool was born in 1924.
On the day of Columbine, at around 6:00 p.m., Pool neighbor Steve Ferguson noticed cars belonging to Pool’s relatives when he got home from work, but he didn’t go over to the Pool’s home that day. He called them two days after.
He said: ,,Elaine, so what’s going on? I noticed the cars over there the night of Columbine. Did something tragic happen to a grandson or granddaughter?’’
Elaine, Eric’s grandmother, said: ,,Yes, I had a grandson that was killed, that was killed in the Columbine shootings.’’
He expressed his condolences and extended his sympathy. Then he asked: ,,Which one was he?’’
Elaine broke down and said: ,,My gosh, he was the killer.’’
He then asked the name of the grandson.
,,Harris’’, his grandmother said.
,,His name is Harris.’’
The weekend after Columbine, Ferguson was doing chores outside his house. Richard Pool, Eric’s grandfather, came over with tears streaming down his cheeks. He was emotionally shot, he tried to explain a little bit what was going on.
Ferguson said: ,,You don’t have to explain.’’ Again, he extented his condolences and his feelings. ,,This has got to be tearing you apart.’’
Mr. Pool acknowledged that, and he just said it’s tough. He said it’s eatin him alive. He said he can’t sleep.
Mr. Pool said: ,,It will never be the same for us, ever.’’
Ferguson does not believe the Pools mentioned their grandson ever again.
I’ve seen quite a lot of posts recently asking for tips about true crime
books, so I decided to do a list with some of the books I’ve read lately. I didnt like all of these books, but most of them. I added a few books about 9/11 too, bc i found them interesting. So, in no particular order:
Burn –> 🎵 “with all yer life fucked up around you” 🎵
(Need a little musical inspiration for the weekend? Let’s consult A Virtual Book of Existences for some more jammin’ tunes :))
Burn was recorded by Nine Inch Nails in 1994 for the Natural Born Killers soundtrack. Dylan referenced the track in a journal entry he made on November 3, 1997, slipping in a line from the song in between reflections on his depression and disconnection from “everything that zombies consider real”.
The lyrics strongly echo Dylan’s own feelings of isolation and rejection, and, with the benefit of hindsight post-4/20/99, have an element of prophecy with regards to his actions a year and a half later.
This world rejects me This world threw me away This world never gave me a chance This world’s gonna have to pay
I don’t believe in your institutions I do what you want me to I’m like a case of indigestion And I’ve got a little surprise for you
Something inside of me Has opened up its eyes Why did you put it there? Did you not realize?
This thing inside of me It screams the loudest sound Sometimes I think I could Burn
I don’t care about where you’re standing Like I’m sheep out on the slay With all your life fucked up around you I can take it all away
Something inside of me Has opened up its eyes Why did you put it there? Did you not realize?
This thing inside of me It screams the loudest sound Sometimes I think I could I’m gonna burn this whole world down
(Dylan’s ‘Burn’ journal entry in context)
(( PS For the NIN music video, I selected a live version of Burn that they performed in my own hometown in 2009 :) ))
Serial Killers & Mass Murderers takes you into the minds of the criminals who committed the world’s most notorious and horrifying crimes. Each of the sadistic murderers profiled here was once known simply as someone’s neighbor, co-worker or child. What turned them into killers? In one chilling chapter after another, this book profiles a terrifying succession of homicidal maniacs and asks the question, “What makes them tick?”
so yall , I came across this site // app , and it’s called thrift books , it has everything from text books , to magazines , they have such a large selection of TC books , it’s amazing. the books are like 80% off bc they’re used but you can choose the condition anywhere form okay to excellent and shipping is about 6 days but when you spend 10 $ it’s free , and every 50$ you spend you get a 5$ coupon!! REBLOG GO SAVE A LIFE GUYS !!!
Most civilized put down I have ever read!
Sherwin Dillar really put Virginia’s Governor in his place
Subject: A letter to the Virginia Governor
An Open Letter to Virginia Governor Terry McAuliffe
I was born in Los Angeles, California and raised in Ohio. I have taught Political Science at the collegiate level in Cincinnati, been published in The Wall Street Journal and am in my 12th year of research for a forthcoming book on Columbine.
For the past seven years I have made Rockbridge County, Virginia, my home.
The one and only reason I live in Lexington, Virginia is, because it is the final resting place of Robert E. Lee and Thomas J. Jackson. Their lives, character, faith, integrity, honor and testimony shone so brightly a century and a half after their decease, that there is no other place on the Earth I want to be, but where they lived and served.
There is something deeply and morally wrong with anyone, who objects to these two great Virginians—great Americans being honored by the native State, for which they gave their lives, limbs and blood in selfless patriotic service.
President Dwight D. Eisenhower kept Lee’s portrait in his executive office, while president. Churchill extolled him as the greatest American. Ulysses S. Grant threatened to resign from the U.S. Army, if Lee were tried for treason.
The statue that marks the grave of “Stonewall” Jackson was paid for not only by the veterans, who served under him, but by financial contributions from former slaves, whom he had taught to read in violation of Virginia law.
When a Lexington local assailed Jackson for breaking the law to “teach those people”, Jackson uncharacteristically lost his temper and shouted, “If you were a Christian you would not say so!”
After the war, it was Lee who broke social convention at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, by kneeling beside a former slave, who had mortified the White congregation by kneeling at the altar.
Asked afterward by a bigot why a man like himself would kneel beside a former slave, Lee simply chastised him, “The ground is always level at the foot of the cross.”
The anniversary of the deaths of Lee and of Jackson were long commemorated in this Commonwealth by veterans of the North, who were often the honored keynote speakers invited to praise the virtues of their once-foes.
Every monument to a Confederate Virginian is a war memorial to an American veteran.
It has been the mark of manhood and civility and longstanding American tradition to leave politics out of the way we honor our veterans. They fought the battles; we did not. They shed the blood; we did not. They reconciled with their enemies; we did not.
End of subject. It is not for children born a hundred and fifty years later to re-adjudicate the past and expose to double jeopardy men their own contemporaries exonerated.
It is the height of arrogance to suppose that you know more about these men and their times than their even contemporaries. The command of God remains, “Remove not the ancient landmark, which thy fathers have set.”
It is to God you will assuredly answer for its violation.
If you find it impossible to respect your elders, attempt at least to revere your betters.
The destruction of Virginia’s monuments to her war dead is sacrilege and those, who urge and execute it, are nothing more than cemetery vandals. There is no honor in this course of wanton destruction and, morally, you equate yourself with ISIS, which shares your contempt for actual culture, something you both so manifestly lack. It is more than history, more than art.
No matter. No one will remember you in any 150 years. Nothing you do can make anything like the mark these great Virginians made on history’s ledger. Just being you another day is your own punishment and yet you still face God for what you propose to do as well. Something is deeply, horribly wrong with your soul, Sir. And you know it. So does all Virginia.
I have strived to be civil, but you do not make it easy. Smearing reputations, slandering saints and tearing down what better men raised has zero to do with love, unity, tolerance, acceptance, diversity and coexistence. It’s just the usual political spoils game, playing one race/class/group against another to score a win at any cost. The mean, petty loathing of Virginia’s first string heroes outs you as a raging hypocrite just as you were trying to pass for intelligent. What a piece of work.
Just leave the statues, graves, monuments and memorials right where the grown-ups put them, Terry. Just fool around doing nothing, you know, like back at Georgetown. Easy.
That’s all I ask. And about the most anybody expects of you. Aren’t you tired yet of just being the same old failure and lurching from bungled debacle to bungled debacle?
Why not shock the world: open a book, educate yourself and do something less horrible than usual. Resign, even, and leave Virginians to govern Virginia. What a concept.
Shouldn’t you be ruining Syracuse instead of Richmond?
So I ended up doing a piece on a pretty dark subject: A review for Susan Klebold, mother of one of the columbine shooters, new book. It was pretty interesting to try to empathize with someone who loved and lost a monster.