Fred Wilson, 61, a survivor of last year's Von Maur shooting in Omaha, stood at the podium of the Roper & Sons chapel Thursday morning. His topic was forgiveness.
COLLEEN KENNEY / Lincoln Journal Star | Posted: Thursday, September 18, 2008 7:00 pm
The blood in his body had drained from the bullet wounds.
Medical workers had trouble finding a brain wave or a pulse.
“But miraculously, they performed surgery on me that fifth day of December and I survived.”
Fred Wilson, 61, a survivor of last year’s Von Maur shooting in Omaha, stood at the podium of the Roper & Sons chapel Thursday morning.
His topic was forgiveness.
He’s spoken about it many times since that day. The first time was two weeks after the shooting, at the press conference. A reporter had asked: Are you angry at the shooter?
“My response that day was no, that I forgive Robbie Hawkins, the shooter. And I continue to forgive him today.”
But somehow, he told the crowd, in just the past few weeks something else has come over him — a new feeling for the angry 19-year-old who’d walked into his workplace that day with an AK-47 and killed six of his co-workers and two customers in cold blood. He wounded five more, including Wilson, leaving him with an arm and a life that will never be the same.
Wilson paused a moment, looking out to the crowd.
“A kind of love for Robbie Hawkins has developed.”
He raised the good hand of his good arm for emphasis.
“He in his life didn’t receive the validation or the love he deserved. And his act was only as a result of that lack of love.”
The right sleeve of Wilson’s sport coat was empty, his right arm resting in a sling. He wore a brace. He may have to keep wearing a brace if doctors can’t fix the nerve damage. He hopes to get enough movement so his fingers can move together in a pincher grip. That’d be useful.
He went back to work, part time, in May.
Before going to work that day last December, he told the crowd, he’d said his usual goodbyes and I love you’s to his cat. But for some reason, in the days before the shooting, he had added something else to the ritual.
Thank you, God. Thank you, Jesus. Please take care of me, God. Please take care of me, Jesus.
When the shooting began, Wilson stepped back into the Customer Service area. He was a manager. He felt responsible for his workers.
He hid behind a gift-wrap counter.
Customer Service was on the third floor, so he figured they all would be safe. At one point, he looked out into the store and saw a young man coming their way.
“For a very brief moment, I wondered why this young man was not taking shelter in the store because someone was shooting. Then I realized HE was shooting.”
Gunfire knocked Wilson to the floor. He landed on his right arm.
A woman near him couldn’t breathe. She indicated to him she needed oxygen. But his arm was numb, paralyzed. He couldn’t do anything for her. Then he noticed blood flowing from his own body.
He remembers how everything became silent after Robbie Hawkins shot himself, except for a recorded message that played over and over.
… You have crossed security lines. Police have been called …
He remembers the ambulance driving him away from the mall, but nothing beyond that until a few days later when he came to, surrounded by family.
Why do we forgive?
Because that is what we do, Wilson told the crowd. That is what humans do.
Even if we get stung, again and again, that is what we do. We heal.
We don’t let ourselves become the wound.
“No one is pure evil. Robbie Hawkins wasn’t pure evil. … And I can’t tell you how free I feel for forgiving Robbie Hawkins.”
Reach Colleen Kenney at 473-2655 or ckenney@journalstar.com.