As victims are mourned in Florida, a search for solace, and action

Four days later, hundreds of people filled a contemporary synagogue in Boca Raton to capacity, remembering Beigel not only for his final act of selflessness, but for an entire life in service of others.

“Scott’s life was not that moment; Scott’s heroism was not that incident,” said his father, Michael Schulman. “Scott’s heroism was his entire life.”

On the first Sunday after a local high school lost 17 of its own, mourners said farewell at funerals, a call for action grew louder and a pastor implored his congregation not to lose faith.

“Our world is broken, but Jesus is not,” the Rev. Eddie Bevill of the Parkridge Church told the congregation, in reaction to the statements some students have made about the futility of prayer as a response to gun violence. “We pray that in the midst of the pain we are experiencing, that we can know you, Jesus.”

Bevill also asked his flock to pray for the suspect in the shooting, Nikolas Cruz, although he did not mention Cruz’s name or ask that he be forgiven.

At the high school, about a mile away from the church, a group of grief-stricken teenage survivors vowed to change the laws that allowed Cruz to get hold of an assault weapon that authorities say he used to slaughter his former classmates.

In a movement that has been building since the massacre last week, student organizers said Sunday that they would mount a demonstration next month in Washington called March For Our Lives. Their mission is to pivot America’s long-running gun control debate — which tends to flare up with each mass shooting and then dissipate — toward meaningful action.

“We want this to stop. We need this to stop. We are protecting guns more than people,” said Emma González, 18, one of five core organizers, whose impassioned speech at a rally in Fort Lauderdale on Saturday drew national attention. “We are not trying to take people’s guns away; we are trying to make sure we have gun safety.”

González, a senior at the school, said the group was inviting elected officials “from any side of the political spectrum” to join the movement. But she said: “We don’t want anybody who is funded by the NRA. We want people who are going to be on the right side of history.”

The organizers hope the march, scheduled for March 24, will attract students from across the country, and they say more protests are planned.

“Our hearts are heavy, we are overburdened, and we are incapable of holding the weight of grief that is upon us, but that is even more true of the families of the deceased,” Bevill said. He then read aloud the names of the dead, as congregants wiped tears and held their arms aloft.

In the afternoon, hundreds of family and friends packed a hotel ballroom to honor the memory of Jaime Guttenberg, 14. Mourners heard from cousins, a favorite teacher and her parents, each offering glowing stories that were painful to hear. Jaime loved to dance. She loved the color orange. She loved her two dogs, Charlie and Cooper. Her favorite song was “Rewrite the Stars,” and on the weekends, she volunteered to help people with special needs.

Fred Guttenberg talked about watching the television show “iCarly” together. He said she was a fighter whose energy could fill a room.

Guttenberg’s eulogy ended in anger and a standing ovation. He vowed to fight gun violence, and admonished President Donald Trump for a Saturday night Twitter post that accused the FBI of missing “signals” of Wednesday’s deadly rampage because of what the president characterized as the agency’s preoccupation with the Russian investigation.

Beigel, one of three faculty members killed in the attack, had only worked for the school for a few months, but Denise Reed, an assistant principal, said she knew Beigel was a perfect match for the school “in definitely less than two or three minutes” after he began his interview for the job in the spring of 2017.

Schulman said Beigel would not have believed that so many people would turn out to celebrate his life. “Eh, they just came for the food,” Schulman imagined Beigel saying.

The funeral for another student, Meadow Pollack, 18, was held Friday. Her relatives, classmates, Gov. Rick Scott of Florida and many others were crowded in every corner of the Congregation Kol Tikvah synagogue, about a mile from the school.

Tears slipped from behind dark sunglasses as Rabbi Bradd Boxman recalled a girl who shone “like a star.”

“I’m not here to explain any of this,” he said. “I can’t tell you why Meadow died the way that she did.”

Pollack’s boyfriend, Brandon Schoengrund, spoke about his “princess,” his shoulders slumped in pain. And her father, Andrew Pollack, stood before the crowd and addressed the gunman.

“You. Killed. My. Kid.” he said, one word at a time, his voice booming through the synagogue in grief and rage. “My kid is dead. It goes through my head all day. And night. I keep hearing it over and over.”

“How does this happen to my beautiful, smart, loving daughter?” he said. “She is everything. If we could learn one thing from this tragedy, it’s that our everythings are not safe when we send them to school.”

The room heaved with sobbing teenagers as Pollack’s coffin was wheeled out for burial.

The New York Times

As victims are mourned in Florida, a search for solace, and action

Beigel, 35, was fatally shot before he could lock the classroom door.

Enhance Your Pulse News Experience!

JOIN OUR PULSE COMMUNITY!