Ten years ago, this community was changed forever. At the time, I was a teenager in the Omaha Jewish community, and we felt the shockwaves from Kansas deeply.
Although the distance and my age dampened its emotional effect on me, it still lingered in my mind as I grew older.
At age 17, I got a job as the Omaha JCC’s fitness center receptionist. While I was being shown how to work at the front desk, a significant amount of time was spent on what to do in an active-shooter or bomb-threat situation. Running through my head was a constant checklist — “There’s the panic button. Here’s the intercom to make emergency announcements. This is how to record threatening phone calls. Here’s where to hide if there’s a shooter. This is what you need to tell the police.”
When I talked to friends at school about my job, they acted like those precautions weren't normal. They didn’t know where to duck and cover at their weekend jobs. They didn’t have armed guards outside their church. They thought we were making too big a deal.
I worked at the Omaha JCC on and off for more than five years, thankfully never having to act in an emergency. A lot of Jews in the U.S. — let alone in Israel and the rest of the Diaspora — haven’t been that lucky. Just in the last decade, with what happened here and in Pittsburg, Poway and Colleyville — it’s hard to overstate what that continues to do to American Jews’ psyche.
In my early teen years, I had no aspirations of being a Jewish journalist, but as one now, I have really felt the need to educate myself on what being a Jewish journalist was like here in 2014. I’d gone to The Chronicle’s online archives to read the articles and columns written about the tragedy, and immediately knew that I should reach out to Barbara Bayer, the editor of The Chronicle at the time of the shooting.
“Because The Chronicle was weekly with very little online presence, we didn't cover day-to-day updates and court proceedings, because that information was on all the TV stations and in The [Kansas City] Star,” Bayer told me. “So, by necessity, we tried to cover it with different angles, in which I think we succeeded.”
Another aspect of the shootings that I didn’t realize was their proximity to Passover.
“It was the day before the first Seder, and I remember my family would not have had our Seder if it wasn't for the extra help I received, because while I had officially taken the day off, I was suddenly very busy working,” Bayer said. “And a shooting is something this Jewish journalist had never had to deal with in her 25 years in the business.”
She also confirmed that Kansas City Jewish organizations’ security concerns skyrocketed, which echoes my experience in Omaha.
“Today, every Jewish building that I know of, except the Campus, is locked and you need to request entry,” she said. “Security guards at the Campus are now armed, which they were not prior to the shooting.”
But, Bayer shared, she is not afraid. In fact, she’d written that in the Chronicle issue that came out right after the shooting, despite the community’s emotions running high.
“I'm still not scared to go [to the Campus] or to go to any other Jewish event,” she said. “...I refuse to hide and sit in my home because some crazy person may be lurking around the corner.”
Both in Omaha and here in Kansas, much work has been done to safen, strengthen, reinforce and unite each community since April of 2014. It hasn’t been easy, and it probably won’t get much easier, but it’s a necessity, and we have the fortune of having people and measures in place for emergency situations.
Next time you’re at The J or your synagogue and you see a guard, thank them and remember why they’re there. Thank our community’s security director, Chuck Green, and assistant director, Ty Fernandez. They are all trained, vigilant, dedicated and caring, and we should be grateful for the protection they give us.
G-d-willing, violent attacks like what happened a decade ago will stop, and those who protect us will never have to use their training. We are strong, prepared and provenly resilient, but I wish we would stop having to learn that the hard way.
