Los Angeles Times - 16.11.2019

A6 S LATIMES.COM

SAUGUS HIGH SCHOOL SHOOTING

students were targeted.
“He seemed very familiar
with firing the weapon,” Vil-
lanueva said. He added that
the shooting was not a “spur
of the moment act,” but offi-
cials have not determined a
motive.
Federal and state investi-
gators were also trying to de-
termine whether the hand-
gun used by the shooter was
assembled from parts pur-
chased separately, law en-
forcement sources told The
Times.
Such so-called ghost
guns are unserialized weap-
ons manufactured from
parts that can be ordered
through the mail or mach-
ined parts acquired from
underground makers.
The sources said the gun
design appeared to be un-
usual but emphasized that
officials don’t know its ori-
gins at this time.
Investigators found sev-
eral firearms during a search
of the teen’s home, some of
which were not registered.
Villanueva did not specify
what types of guns were re-
covered. The L.A. County
Sheriff ’s Department is
working with the federal Bu-
reau of Alcohol, Tobacco,
Firearms and Explosives to
trace the origins of the .45-
caliber handgun that was
used in the shooting.
Deputy James Callahan,
a school resource officer at
Saugus, said he was on his
way to campus when the
shooter call went out Thurs-
day. When he arrived min-
utes later, he rushed to help
students wounded in the
quad along with other off-
duty law enforcement offi-
cers who were already ren-
dering aid.
“When you’re a school re-
source deputy, you take a lot
of pride in keeping your cam-
pus secure,” he said. “You
never think a tragic thing
like this is going to happen.”
A day after the gunfire,
students, parents and law
enforcement officers de-
scribed the tightknit com-
munity as being in a state of
mourning. Many continued
to struggle with the violence
that had unfolded.
Xitlali Rodriguez, 16, had
been sitting in her first-
period digital photo class
when she heard the gun-
shots. The classroom door
was wide open, she said, and
she was just one building
away from the quad where
the shooter opened fire.
She said she thought she
was going to die. The stu-
dents did their best to keep a
low profile: They closed the
door, shut off the lights and
hid in the room. Everyone
was texting family and
friends. She watched as
some cried silently while

others hugged, trying to

comfort one another.

Rodriguez said she

talked to the emotional sup-

port counselors at school,

who told her she was suffer-

ing from acute post-trauma-

tic stress disorder.

“I’m thankful to be

around family, and I’m

happy that I am safe,” she

said, “but I’m scared to go to

school or large public areas

now, and no one should have

to feel like that.”

Coroner’s officials on Fri-

day identified the 15-year-

old girl who died in the

shooting as Gracie Anne

Muehlberger and the 14-

year-old boy who died as

Dominic Blackwell.

Two teenage girls who

were wounded in the shoot-

ing remained hospitalized

Friday but were expected to

recover from their injuries.

One of those girls, 15, ar-

rived Thursday at Provi-

dence Holy Cross Medical

Center with a gunshot

wound below her belly but-

ton, doctors say. The bullet,

which had lodged in her hip,

was removed by surgeons.

The other, 14, arrived at

the same hospital with gun-

shot wounds to her left

shoulder and lower ab-

domen. Both girls are ex-

pected to be released in the

next day or two, doctors say.

The teens are staying in the

same room and are sur-

rounded by their families.

“Once we were done with

the work-up, they were both

sitting up, smiling and talk-

ing,” Dr. Boris Borazjani

said during a morning news

conference at the hospital.

A third injured student, a

14-year-old boy, was treated

and released Thursday from

the hospital. His specific in-

juries were not revealed.

Kaitlin Holt never ex-

pected to experience a

school shooting in her first

teaching job — or to have to

act as a first responder.

But that’s what the 26-

year-old Saugus High

School choir teacher did

Thursday morning. Holt’s

students had been listening

to a recording of themselves

singing at a jazz festival

when several students ran

into her classroom. They

told her they had heard gun-

shots.

“It was just fight or

flight,” Holt said. “I didn’t

have time to think of any-

thing except of survival for

my students.”

She locked and barri-

caded the door, moving her

students into an office

within the classroom. Once

inside, one of the students

who had run in told Holt that

she thought she had gotten

shot.

“Her adrenaline was so

high she didn’t know she had

been shot,” Holt said.

The girl, a freshman, had

been shot on her right side

and on her left shoulder.

Months before, during a

school staff meeting, Holt

had watched a tutorial on

how to use a gunshot wound

kit. She left her office to get a

kit from her classroom and

wrapped the wound on the

girl’s side while putting pres-

sure on the shoulder wound.

Meanwhile, a senior stu-

dent called the police to let

them know about the

wounded student. Another

senior guarded the door of

the office with a fire extin-

guisher. After about 20 min-

utes, police came into the

classroom and told the stu-

dents they could leave the

room. Though the incident

shook Holt, she said it hasn’t

deterred her from wanting

to teach.

“I just don’t think this

should be part of my job,”

she said.

Detectives have con-

ducted 40 interviews and

still have six to go in their ef-

forts to piece together what

led up to Thursday’s shoot-

ing. They’ve also searched

the shooter’s papers and

computer hard drives for

any clues as to a motive, but

so far, none has emerged.

The teen didn’t leave behind

a suicide note or manifesto

detailing any plans, Sheriff ’s

Capt. Kent Wegener said

Friday.

Friends and neighbors of

the shooter were stunned,

saying the teen showed no

signs of aggression. He ran

junior varsity cross-country

and helped younger mem-

bers in his Boy Scout troop.

Classmates described him

as being very intelligent, an

academic achiever who

often received the highest

marks in his classes.

“He was pretty funny

too,” Brooke Risley, 16, said.

“He had a higher-level

type of humor that often

I couldn’t even get the joke

’cause it was above my

head.”

However, public records

and a high-ranking law en-

forcement source indicated

there were signs of trouble at

home.

His family life in Santa

Clarita had been upended by

his father’s sudden death in

December 2017, acquaint-

ances said. More recently, a

source told The Times that

the boy was having prob-

lems with his girlfriend, who

was his emotional anchor.

The teen’s father, Mark

Berhow, had been arrested

on suspicion of driving

under the influence in 2013

and 2015 and pleaded no con-

test twice. The second time,

he was sentenced to 45 days

in jail and five years’ proba-

tion.

According to jail records,

he was also booked in 2015 on

suspicion of attempted bat-

tery of a spouse. Prosecutors

declined to file charges in

that case, citing insufficient

evidence.

Times staff writers Sarah

Parvini, James Queally,

Soumya Karlamangla and

Alejandra Reyes-Velarde

contributed to this report.

Firearms taken from teenager’s home

[Shooting, from A1]

TWO PEOPLE VISITa makeshift memorial in Santa Clarita’s Central Park to victims of Thursday’s shooting at Saugus High School.

Irfan KhanLos Angeles Times

VICKY VILLARREALand Matthew Arauz visit the

memorial. Officials said the two killed were Gracie

Anne Muehlberger, 15, and Dominic Blackwell, 14.

Kent NishimuraLos Angeles Times

on the quad?
How do you protect
yourself from something
you can’t predict and don’t
understand?

::

That’s a question we’ve
been asking ever since the
shocking massacre 20 years
ago at Colorado’s Col-
umbine High School. The
murder of a teacher and 12
students by a pair of misfit
classmates on a deadly
rampage jangled us free
from the notion of school as
a safe space.
That tragedy is blamed
by experts for sparking a
wave of school shootings
that has taken more than
350 lives, shows no sign of
ending and spawned an
industry of school-shooter
protection programs to
prepare for what was once
unthinkable.
“Students today should
be as familiar with active
shooter protocols as they
are with fire drills or proto-
cols for earthquakes and
other natural disasters,”
said USC professor Erroll
Southers, a former FBI
agent and director of the
university’s Safe Communi-
ties Institute.
For the last 20 years, he’s
been visiting schools across
the country, assessing
everything from where the
classroom windows are to
how many kids sit alone in
the lunchroom.
In some ways, protecting
students has become its

own sort of arms race, with

schools going to such ex-

tremes that school-shooter

training might actually

traumatize the students it’s

intended to protect.

“There’s a school of

thought that you have to

enact sensorial training

drills — firing blank guns

and tackling individuals —

to make it a real life experi-

ence,” said Melissa Reeves,

a Winthrop University pro-

fessor who helped write a

national curriculum for

school crisis interventions.

“But we don’t light a fire

in the hallway to do fire

drills.”

In fact, that kind of vis-

ceral experience can pro-

voke such an intense emo-

tional response that stu-

dents wind up more scared

than prepared.

Most schools prepare

teachers and students as

Saugus High did, with rou-

tine lockdown drills, often

built on a hierarchical

mantra of survival options:

Run, hide, fight.

Critics worry that’s not

enough to equip young

people; that students will

panic and freeze when a real

crisis occurs.

But the response of

Saugus High students and

teachers to Thursday’s

crisis suggests otherwise.

They married instinct with

preparation and did their

campus and community

proud.

I watched their stories

unfold in news interviews on

a day of relentless television

coverage. Their presence of

mind astounded me.

Students who could fled

the campus at the sound of

gunshots and shouted

warnings to others. There

was panic and confusion,

but there was no stampede.

Teachers guided kids

away from danger, yanked

them into classrooms,

shoved them into safe

spaces, and calmly issued

orders — turn those cell-

phones off — that teenagers

efficiently obeyed.

Behind locked doors,

desks became barriers, fire

extinguishers were mar-

shaled as weapons, and

students armed themselves

with scissors, “just in case

you have to fight back,” one

boy told reporters.

And in the eerie quiet of a

choir practice room, an

injured student who’d stum-

bled in bloody from the

quad assured worried

schoolmates that she would

be OK — as a teacher

dressed her two bullet

wounds with supplies from

the classroom’s gunshot

wound kit, lamenting only

that she didn’t have a sec-

ond kit.

::

The mere idea that class-

rooms today need gunshot

wound kits makes me want

to cry.

But that’s our new reality

in this country. And no

neighborhood can expect to

be immune.

I could sense the stu-

dents’ soul-searching as

they tried to answer the

question that virtually every

reporter asked: How do you

feel?

This was unfamiliar

territory for them. They’d

grown up in a community

considered one of the safest

cities for children in Ameri-

ca. They went to school with

kids they’d known all their

lives.

And there they were,

walking off campus in a

single-file line, many in

tears, with their arms above

their heads like criminals on

TV, being herded away from

a crime scene.

They felt scared, con-

fused, grateful, angry,

stunned. And all the grown-

ups had to offer them in the

moment were hugs and

refrains of “Thank God you

are OK.”

I couldn’t stop thinking

about Adriana casting

about for some sign that

things could be made OK,

longing for the kind of pro-

tections that urban schools

are trying to get rid of.

“We have open gates,”

she complained. “We don’t

check IDs. There’s no metal

detectors. Maybe we need

metal detectors.”

But who wants schools

to look like penitentiaries?

“You could put all the

physical protectors in place

... and still there’s no way we

can stop everything bad

from happening,” said

Reeves, a former president

of the National Assn. of

School Psychologists. “The

more you make it like a

fortress, the more they feel

unsafe.”

Her advice has nothing

to do with searches or

equipment:

“We’ve got to deal with

this on the front end with

kids, so they’re not feeling so

hopeless and angry and

desperate.”

It seems to me we’re all

feeling a little desperate

right now, wishing there was

one right answer — just do

this and you will be safe.

But that doesn’t really

exist, inside or outside of

school, in our world today.

Unfamiliar territory in a close-knit city

[Banks,from A1]

PEOPLEat a prayer gathering after the shooting. “It doesn’t seem like this is

something that should happen here,” said a Saugus High School sophomore.

Luis Sinco Los Angeles Times