Suicides

Suicides

Too Many To Talk About

My High School Students

1984-2010

This week my cousin’s granddaughter committed suicide. She came home from school and found her father’s gun and shot and killed herself. Even though we didn’t know this little girl, my siblings were devastated by the news. I, on the other hand, was numb to it, for I have already buried too many of my high school students to suicide. I have begun to understand why some people take this path.

 In 1984, Jay, one of my favorite students was out on the golf course in midafternoon on Saturday in May. He waved to some friends and then went behind a tree and shot himself. As we all trickled into school on Monday, bits and pieces of this horrific story filtered through the hallways. We were all shocked and filled with deep, deep sorrow. No one saw this coming. Jay was smart, handsome, funny, well-liked, had two dates to the prom, and a generally nice guy. What went wrong? What did we miss? How could he have done this to himself?

It turns out in the morning, he had been in a store and stuffed a cassette in his backpack. When he was confronted by store security, he claimed it he absentmindedly put this cassette in his backpack. He didn’t have any intention of stealing it. I believe Jay’s story because he never showed me anything but his stellar character. His father, devastated, of course, blamed Jay’s suicide on how the store security officer handled this situation. The father claimed Jay killed himself out of humiliation. I don’t know what happened but Jay’s death broke my heart.

 In 1990, I was now an assistant principal and at the end of the school day I saw a Craig. He owed me an hour detention. He asked if he could serve that detention tomorrow as he had something he had to do that afternoon. I joked with him and said “yes” but warned him that I would kick him in the rear end if he didn’t come tomorrow. He laughed and promised he would. He even shook my hand to solidify his commitment. He gave me a big smile, thanked me and ran off with his friends.

Around midnight I got a phone call from his friend’s mother. She told me Craig committed suicide just an hour ago. I couldn’t believe it. I thought she had the wrong person and I corrected her accordingly. “No, no.” she cried. “It’s our Craig. He shot himself tonight. He was playing basketball with the boys. He stepped off the court and went into his car and shot himself, point- blank in the chest”.

The next morning, we called his classmates down to the cafeteria. The principal told everyone the news and our students were devastated. In unison, they got up and left the building, distraught, in shock, with deep sadness, in a state of bewilderment. They just scattered in their grief. And now we had 300 grieving students wandering our community. This was a crisis because we worried some of them would hurt themselves in their grief. It took a long time for these kids to get over Craig death.

I’ve had several students die from suspicious car accidents and drug overdoses. Where these events intentional or accidental?   Too many of these deaths were questionable.

In 2002, I was now the principal in Springfield high school. Early one morning we received word the Frankie was just found dangling from a rafter. I sat with my administrative team and talked about how we should proceed through the day. Frankie would have been in tech school in the morning. So, we had some time before we had to tell the students.  Or so we thought. This was the first time I was dealing with a student’s death in the age of cell phone access. While I thought we might get through the school day without anyone knowing, all his friends were spreading the word to their private worlds. Additionally, rumors are being spread.  It was thought that several students had killed themselves. I had a crisis on my hand. We had to tell the students that moment so that we could quell the rumors and manage hysteria. That was a tough, tough day.

Six weeks later, another student overdosed on heroin and lingered in a coma for a week before he was pulled from life support. Our students were on edge with grief. Everybody felt vulnerable. And just when we were about to get back on our feet, two months later, an eighth-grade student hung herself, just like Frankie. My community sunk to a new low of grief that seems just insurmountable.  The whole town suffered from this little girl’s death.

I’ve had multiple students kill themselves sometime after they left high school. Some of these deaths surprised me and others didn’t. I saw some of these suicides coming, like a train wreck, right before my eyes. All of them were a loss to me and others.

Whenever a student died, I did my best to be calm, rational, kind and caring. I tried to be the beacon in the storm. To do that I had to distance myself from my own grief so that I can stay focused on my students.

But these deaths left me with sadness and the hope that maybe, just maybe, all of them were finally free of their pain, doubts, sadness and fears. Rest in Peace to all of them.