No training, nor any experience with guns or gun violence could prepare me for the fear I encountered January 6th at Fort Lauderdale Airport. In a country where we are spoon fed a fear of terrorism on what seems like a daily, your mind is subconsciously already on high alert. Sitting in Terminal 1 watching events unfold in the next terminal I felt a sense of safety. Sadden by the report of 1 known death at the time, I patiently waited for my flight to board. Before I knew it, shots were fired and I was knocked out of my seat, being trampled by hundreds of screaming, scared people. The baby that I was just playing with grabbed within seconds by his mother before the stroller was mowed over. I saw grown men jumping over people and chairs in a frantic, screaming to stay down. I closed my eyes and opened them to see almost everyone outside. My body felt like a ton of bricks but I knew I had to get out of there. I got up, grabbed what I could and ran on to the Tarmac. The next minutes seemed like hours which turned into hours seeming like days. But I was a live, I had survived a mass shooting.
Thankful:
I realized how blessed I was to come out with minor injuries. Also, people all over reached out to me to verify my safety; the magazine I freelance for, co-workers, family, and friends of family, I felt loved. My favorite writer and the one who holds the lock & key to my heart flew all the way back from Havana to ensure I was safe. “I had to make sure you were ok, I had to put my eyes on you, and I was proud of you for putting away your fears and telling the story”. I was thankful that there is still humanity in humans. Once we got behind the tarmac, we shared water together, our cell phones, our chargers, tears, hugs, even socks to stop the bleeding of wounds. No one was separated by race, religion, political views, gender preference, or nationality. At that moment we were together, bonded, searching for an answer, for sure safety.
Guilt:
Why wasn’t it me? That was the first question I asked myself when my nerves finally settled. People say things like “GOD was covering you, it wasn’t your time, and you’re here for a special service”. So the others weren’t? Where was their covering? I’m not special. Do you know how many times I verbally said I didn’t want to live? Do you know how many times I wailed about not wanting to be here on earth? I’ve disrespected life so much and yet I am still here when a father is never coming home, a grandmother was taken from her grandkids & high school sweetheart, a husband will never see his wounded wife recover. Then its the feeling that doesn’t make it past ones mouth. Its the feeling no one admits to having. I felt guilty for being thankful for being alive. I was glad that my time on this earth had not expired. It is the most bitter sweet feeling. How dare I feel good about not dying, when people loss their lives. It is the most uncomfortable feeling. I hate my self for feeling this way, but it is my truth.
Determination:
There was one point when I was on the phone with my sister O’Shanae, I told her to take care of my baby peanut (Great-Nephew Nehemiah). I had given up hope that I was going to make it out alive. She told me not to think like that. She told me to drop my emotions and be DETERMINED to survive by any means necessary. People at work are asking me if I will ever fly again. I always say if you live your life in fear, you will never live. If you get into a car wreck, do you stop driving? If you are robbed do you never go outside? That’s exactly what they want, for us to live in fear, for us to not live life, to cringe to fear. I will not. I will not live my life in fear. How dare I smother this personality, this love for people, for food, for travel, with a fear that someone is going to end my life? Death has no time, date, or name. Time and unforeseen occurrences befalls us all and I for one will not live looking over my shoulder. Be alert, look around for suspicious activity, make smart decisions, but continue to live.
People took what happened to me lightly because they saw me live on Facebook. It was my job. I went live on Facebook because I am a Media Personality. I calmed myself as much as I could so that I could tell the world what was going on at the time. That doesn’t negate what happens. If you look at a timeline that they show there is a big gap from 1:50-6:30. That gap is us running for our lives. I will never forget what happened to me that Friday. I will never forget that kids who were crying and begging their parents not to go outside of the bus, grown men crying, people bleeding, security running ahead of us. I will never forget the family whose sons I played with before they had to make the decision to leave everything they had to save their children’s lives. It changed me to make me push harder to be a better me, love harder, and never take the privilege of waking up any day for granted.