Together, the families of the victims and the father-in-law of their killer wept and prayed. And one grieving father of a girl Charlie had killed visited us.
While I was grateful for the reaction we received, I can't say I understood it. " a spokesman for the Amish said on the news shows covering the shooting. I shared how brokenhearted I was that our son Zach would not attend Charlie's funeral—he couldn't forgive him.
Meanwhile, shortly after being released from jail, Sabrina posted a topless photo of her on Facebook, sparking speculations that she was on drugs again.
Last week, she was arrested on charges related to drugs.
She said some people simply find pleasure in hurting her and destroying her family."I feel like Abraham must have felt in the Bible.
When God asked him to sacrifice his only son," she said.
Chuck kept saying that we had to move away from the people Charlie had hurt.
But Henry reassured Chuck that there was no reason for us to move.
Sometimes when we make choices we don't even realize that we are making them. According to Sabrina, she would have never made that wrong choice had she known that the things she was going through now were going to happen.
She went on to say that she has realized that no matter what she does, people will never consider it good enough.
The drive was only 10 minutes, but I heard on the radio that there had been a shooting at an Amish schoolhouse nearby. Charlie drove a truck for his father-in-law's business collecting milk from area dairy farms, and he often parked right near the school. Eventually, we were walked to the police cruiser and driven home. I could not imagine his feelings as he was escorted out like a perpetrator after 30 years of being the one who did the escorting. I had not seen my strong, protective husband shed tears since his father passed away years before. He'd covered his face with a dish towel to control the flow of tears, his eyes sunken and dull. Even after hearing from police what the survivors saw, I struggled to accept the reality: My beloved son had walked into the schoolhouse with an arsenal of guns, boarded up the windows and doors, bound and shot 10 girls, ages 6 to 13, then killed himself. I didn't understand how Charlie could leave his children fatherless, to face the shame and the horror.
And the gentle Amish families—what darkness had so possessed Charlie that he would want to rip away daughters as precious as his own? I didn't know what kind of mother could bear a son who could perpetrate such horrible deeds.
Later, as we said our farewells, Charlie seemed quieter than usual. The next day, on my lunch break at work, I heard sirens and wondered what could be happening in our small rural community.