The Man I Love (The Fish Tales, #1)(110)
“You proposed in bed, so I can give you this in the closet.” He took her left hand, slid on the ring he had secretly bought under Miles’s guidance. A small square diamond in a simple platinum setting. Straightforward. Just like Melanie.
She gazed at it a moment, her lips quivering. She looked sideways at him with bright, brimming eyes. “You’re not even kneeling.”
Smiling, he put a knee down. Then he put the other knee down and the smile faded. He sat back on his heels, palms open and empty in his lap, gripped by the moment. He looked up at her. Couldn’t think of anything not contrived or sugary, so he tried to let his eyes say it all.
This is me. This is all I am. It’s damaged and flawed and parts of it are buried and secret and frustrating to you. I’m not a dream or a prize.
Will you have me?
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you.”
Her hand caressed his hair. “While you’re down there…”
He’s Not Here Today
“The Man I Love”
Transcript from the National Public Radio series, Moments in Time April 27, 2002
Karen Stark: You’re listening to Moments in Time. I’m Karen Stark, thanks for joining us.
April brings a tragic pair of anniversaries to the country. Last Saturday, the twentieth, marked the three-year anniversary of the shootings at Columbine High School in Colorado, an ordeal still fresh in our minds. And the day before, April 19th, was the anniversary of the shootings at Lancaster University in Pennsylvania. It has now been ten years since the massacre left seven dead and fifteen wounded, stunning the nation with its chilling randomness.
NPR correspondent Camberley Jones covered the Lancaster shootings in 1992 for our sister station WHPA. She went back to the university last weekend, where a memorial ceremony took place, attended by students, survivors, and victims’ loved ones. The event culminated with the re-dedication of the theater, in the name of a beloved professor who was killed that fateful day.
[Sound: interior of theater, construction, voices]
Camberley Jones: It seems a cool, serene April evening at Lancaster University outside Philadelphia, but the auditorium of the Mallory Performing Arts Complex is emotionally charged. It’s Friday, April 19th, the anniversary of deadly shootings in this theater ten years ago. All day flowers have been left in the building’s courtyard. A candlelight vigil is scheduled for tonight. And tomorrow, the auditorium will be re-dedicated to Professor Marie Del'Amici, who was the director of the conservatory’s ballet division. She was shot dead by James Dow, one of her students. He came into theater during a rehearsal, opening fire on the dancers, faculty and other students present.
Dow killed six people before taking his own life. Over a dozen were wounded in his attack. Many of the survivors have come to Lancaster for tomorrow’s ceremony, along with family and friends of the victims. Memorial plaques will be hung backstage, along with a larger plaque in the building’s lobby, naming the new Marie Del'Amici Auditorium.
Unidentified male voice: We should be set in ten minutes. Start clearing the stage, please. Will and Daisy, ten minutes.
Jones: William Kaeger and Daisy Bianco were two of Professor Del’Amici’s students, exclusive partners during their years at Lancaster’s conservatory. Both were injured in the shootings. Will was shot once in the side and another bullet took off two of his fingers. He was able to come back to dance the following semester. Daisy Bianco, however, was shot through the leg. It took her nearly a year to recover. Both she and Will graduated Lancaster and went on to build successful careers. The piece they are rehearsing for tomorrow’s ceremony—in tribute to their teacher—is the same piece they were working on when James Dow came into the theater.
Unidentified male voice: Off the stage, everyone. We need those ladders off.
Second male voice: Hold on, hold on, we got people on the catwalk. Off the catwalk.
Jones: Although Dow’s motive is still not entirely clear, he was dropped from the spring concert for failing to meet his minimum GPA. He attempted suicide ten days before the shooting and was taken out of school by his parents, back to his hometown of Greensburg. None of the conservatory members saw Dow again until he appeared in the theater on the afternoon of April 19th.
Dow entered the theater through a side hallway which led to the backstage area. Armed with a semi-automatic Glock pistol, he shot and killed five students and wounded six others. He then stepped onto the stage where Will and Daisy were dancing.
William Kaeger: My memory is full of holes. Some parts are clear, others are blank. He came onstage at the part of the pas de deux where Daisy does this really difficult lift on my back. It takes a lot of concentration and maybe it’s why I didn’t hear the commotion backstage or even see James come out. He was behind me. Vaguely—I don’t know if I’m making up this memory or if it’s real—I think I heard screaming when Daisy was running to me. But the music was loud and I was in the zone. I had to catch her. Then she was up on my back and…then it gets surreal in my head. I don’t remember pain exactly. First my side felt like it was on fire. Then my left arm kind of jerked up. I reared back and I threw Daisy right off my shoulders.
Jones: Daisy Bianco comes to sit by Will. She remembers little of the day.
Daisy Bianco: I remember nothing of the shooting. My last clear memory is walking down the aisle. Right over there. I had been in the lighting booth with my boyfriend, then I walked down the aisle to go to the stage and… It just splinters apart after that. I don’t even remember starting the dance.