The tragedy of the shooting at Wedgwood hit home with me as I lost a friend and had another two get shot, and lost two coleagues as well. Recently, I sent out an e-mail about the tragedy and how I felt so separated from it all, though my friends were involved and I used to go to that church. Here is the letter and poem I sent out.

Wedgwood Baptist Church, Sept. 15, 1999 at about 7pm, my friends were sitting in the lobby of the church where I used to go. I wasn't there. A man came in smoking a cigarette asking, "Where is the prayer meeting?" My friend, Jeff, approached him. Like me, Jeff is a seminary student. Jeff asked him to put out the cigarette or to smoke outside, and then it happened. The man simple began to shoot. They had seen him coming across to the door with his hands in his pocket. The organist, Larry, even mentioned the man was going to come in smoking. They were ready for smoking, but not smoking guns. He shot Jeff in the side and my friend Sidney in the head. She never had a chance. He kept shooting and snuffed another light, Kim, a new seminary student I'm told. I feel as if I miss her, too, and I never even met her. The man shot one minister, the church counselor, Kevin, and fired at another before he broke in on a youth rally and opened up on the youth. One youth dove on top of a young girl with down syndrome (as I recall the story) who didn't understand that she needed to get down. That youth was shot. Somewhere, at some point, the man just stopped, and killed himself with a shot to the head. Many died 8-10, or so I've heard. There was only one I know I knew. Sydney, was a teacher and a witness to her kids, as she called her students - like most teachers with a heart for their students. She was also the first to die. The organist noted, he didn't even know how any of them sitting in the foyer entrance survived. So many shots were fired. Choir members said the sound and even a bullet or two came through the walls where they were. One minister was shot at and only saw the flash of a gun blast. He was never hit. He went to try to help save the kids and get them down and out. Many kids, I'm told, thought this was a skit at first. There were many heroes who tried to get people down and out. Several of the youth died, and some were shot but have been surviving so far. I have heard of so many witnesses of those who were shot, of Jesus being in their hearts and lives. Well, I don't know what else to say. Usually I write when I don't know what to do or say. So I wrote a poem, without rhyme or rhythm, since there seemed no point or reason to his actions. May God, in the end, be glorified and His ministry lifted up. Some student got on fire that night, too. They got on fire for Jesus. At least 4 accepted Jesus. Souls saved for the loved ones lost.

In Jesus,
Rusty Ivey

In Memorium, Wedgwood Baptist Church, Sept. 15, 1999

Lord, I don't know what to do or say;
I feel disjointed;
I feel separated from the truth.
They tell me what has happened
and it doesn't seem real;
it seems like a TV show...
Things like that just don't happen around here!
I'm sure everyone says that.
I don't know...
I feel so distanced from it all,
but then I was.
What was going through that man's head?
Why?
Why were his problems worth wasting lives?
Adults... my friends...
Youth,
teens with so much ahead, and Christ to share.
My friends were the ones who confronted him...
He just walked in smoking,
asked where the prayer meeting was,
and they asked him to put out the cigarette.
That was it!
Nothing more.
Not only did he pull a gun out
and shoot my friends,
and some youths,
but he had more clips,
more clips to kill more!
He wanted to kill so many more!
Still, I feel disjointed...
out of socket...
I hear from friends I used to be around
how other friends had been shot.
I hear of the shock at the sound of the gun
and the fright.
I don't know what to say...
How?
I don't know.
How could someone choose to do such a thing?
A life is precious...
The old sanctuary has been desecrated
by slaughter.
One bright light was snuffed,
a bright light to the world,
to her kids
(as she called her students.
See, she was a teacher.)
I heard she once told her kids
if someone came in shooting
that she wished that
she would get in the way
of the bullet
and prevent him.
She told them
she was the only one she knew would go to heaven.
There were some heroes,
but no Rambo.
No one ever had the chance to stop him.
He came in so quickly,
firing his gun.
The lives were lost,
though many souls, I know, were saved,
and he took his life too...
He sealed his fate, his end.
He sealed his life up, totally.
In death, in suffering, in forever...
I wasn't there...
I feel disjointed.

---

heard of the lives lost and those who are still struggleing.
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