Reflecting tonight.
May. 22nd, 2006 10:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salinn5 years ago, I walked down the aisle of Olsen Auditorium on the PLU campus to receive my Bachelor's degree. That season the campus had been shaken not once, but three times. First, a female student at an off-campus party was crushed to death by a porch that fell over under the weight of the partygoers - it wasn't up to code and wasn't built to handle that many people. Then, an ash-wednesday earthquake shook campus, closing all the buildings for hours and sending everyone out into the street and common areas. The chapel services were just ending, and the ministers were finishing putting the streak of ash onto the people's foreheads even after they had filed out of the church and into the street and surrounding parking lots.
Then, a murder-suicide. A disturbed man stalking a female music professor, shot another music faculty a number of times and then turned the gun on himself. Just before what was normally called "dead week" on campus, suddently no one was in the mood to study for final exams.
I remember seeing a campus safety member running across red square (they were notorious for being slow). I remember that I was in the psychology group room, across from the counseling center, taking theories of counseling with a group of about 15 students. I remember the psychologist sticking her head in and telling our professor she needed to talk to him, NOW. Then him ushering us out of the room and into his office which had no windows across the way. Hearing that shots had been fired and we were in lockdown. The prayers that followed, in the small stuffy room full of students. Being released and coming back to my dorm lounge for news and counseling.
The man he killed - couldn't have been a more loved professor. He was the University Organist, had worked with all the choirs. I had just done a chapel service with a select few of us and he was our pianist and conductor...we sang, "Mourning into Dancing," I won't ever forget.
All the graduation speeches that year were of celebration, and loss. I will never know a reunion free of speeches about death and losing Jim Dale Holloway on May 17th, 2001.
16 page suicide note, here.
Suicide-slaying at PLU
Assailant kills professor in apparently random attack, then turns gun on himself
Friday, May 18, 2001
By HECTOR CASTRO AND JOHN LEVESQUE
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTERS
PARKLAND -- A gunman with a grudge methodically shot to death a college professor yesterday -- stepping closer with each blast from a handgun -- and then stood over the man's body and dropped a 16-page note before turning the gun on himself.
Authorities identified the victim as 40-year-old James D. Holloway, a music instructor and organist at Pacific Lutheran University. Holloway was apparently chosen at random by the 55-year-old Tacoma man who shot him, Pierce County Sheriff's Lt. Dave Hall said. (See related article.)
A group of Pacific Lutheran University students gather near the site where professor James Holloway, a popular music instructor, was gunned down by a stranger. Mike Urban / Seattle Post-Intelligencer
Click for larger photo
"He had a conflict with another PLU staff member who was not on campus. He was essentially going to be sending a message, acting out his anger toward this person and some other things by murdering a staff member at random, and then taking his own life," Hall said. "It was obvious he was very angry and very determined, and this was as premeditated as you could get."
Police identified the gunman as Donald Cowan, 55, of Tacoma. After shooting Holloway, Cowan was taken to Madigan Army Medical Center with a gunshot wound to the head. He died at 10:35 p.m.
The shooting happened about 3 p.m. on campus along a popular pathway students use to reach one of two dormitories, Hong and Hinderlie halls.
Holloway fell about 10 feet from an entrance to Hong Hall, on a blacktop pathway that leads to Eastvold Auditorium, an architectural landmark on the leafy PLU campus used by the Music Department for rehearsals and performances. A bright red stain, long and irregular, marked the spot.
"Several students saw or heard this happen," university spokeswoman Katherine Hedland said.
Sean Boyce and Shahin Allahyari, two PLU students, had just entered the Kreidler residence hall when they heard the shots. Allahyari, a 24-year-old junior, said he turned around and saw Holloway on the ground, on his back, and watched as the other man collapsed to the ground. Allahyari took out a cellular phone and called police.
Boyce, a 21-year-old senior, said: "I was kind of in a state of shock." He said he asked himself. "Are those guys dead? I'd never seen a dead body before."
Other students who arrived after the shooting and officers from PLU's Campus Safety and Information Office tried to resuscitate Holloway.
Witnesses said the shooter held a 9 mm semiautomatic handgun in his fist and had a 22-caliber handgun tucked into his waistband. He fired four shots at Holloway, striking him once in the head and three times in the torso. With each shot, Hall said, the gunman advanced one step closer to his victim.
"And then, as he was standing over this person, he dropped the note" before shooting himself, Hall said.
The note, handwritten in ink on 16 pages of yellow legal paper stapled together, outlined in detail the man's plans to kill, right down to stating that he was going to leave the note by the body of his victim.
The gunman was later found to have had extra ammunition.
Hall said the man's grievance against the other PLU employee was personal. "I guess he'd been stalking her. I don't understand the root cause of all that," he said.
The woman is on a sabbatical in Europe.
"She's safe," Hall said. "Her husband was just getting ready to leave for Europe. We got in touch with him, and he's going to notify her."
Hall said the woman had sought at least one restraining order against the gunman, but he did not know where it was filed. Detectives were still gathering information on the suspect, he said.
Investigators do not know why the gunman acted yesterday.
"We'll probably never know why he chose that particular day and location," Hall said.
Campus security officers searched the surrounding buildings for other victims, but found none. Law enforcement officers quickly descended on the campus, renowned for its music program, and cordoned off the crime scene.
The shooting had an immediate effect on the small school, which has 3,500 students and a faculty of about 300 full- and part-time instructors. The campus, with its tree-lined walkways and ornate buildings, is a gentle contrast to the urban sprawl surrounding it.
Adding to the school's sense of sanctuary is its affiliation with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.
Students here are comfortable expressing their religious beliefs, and some of them gathered near the crime scene to pray.
"How much violence are we going to endure inside the educational community before the people in charge of gun policy get the message?" asked Charles Bergman, a professor of English at PLU.
School administrators quickly called a campuswide meeting at Olson Auditorium to let students know what had happened and what counseling resources would be available to them.
Jonathan Peterson, right, a friend of slain PLU professor James Holloway, and an unidentified person pay their respects at an impromptu memorial near the site on campus where Holloway was killed Thursday afternoon. Mike Urban / Seattle Post-Intelligencer
Click for larger photo
Although their faces were mostly expressionless, PLU students couldn't help sensing the horrible coincidence of the traditional name accorded this week before final exams. It's called "Dead Week," a period of low activity when some professors cancel classes to encourage students to study for finals, and others convene class only briefly so students can hand in final projects.
School President Loren Anderson addressed a somber crowd of 2,000 students, some crying, others hugging.
"We've gathered here again in a moment of unspeakable grief and shock," Anderson said.
His statement was an apparent reference to another recent death that hit the campus community. On Feb. 24, freshman Monica Lightell, 19, died at a house party after a crowded deck collapsed. Several other students were hurt in that accident.
At the Mary Baker Russell Music Center yesterday, dozens of students gathered, many sobbing and others trying to comfort the distraught. None wished to talk with the media.
Laura Majovski, PLU's vice president for student life, invited students to gather for prayer and reflection at 10 last night at Foss Field. Organ students played PLU's Gottfried and Mary Fuchs organ last night in the Lagerquist Concert Hall in remembrance of Holloway, who had performed there several times.
Heather Barker, a 21-year-old junior majoring in music education, said Holloway made a point of making students feel welcome at the beginning of class each day.
"He would sit down at the piano and play Edvard Grieg's 'Morning,'" she said. It was his way of saying, "Hello, I'm glad you're in my class," Barker said.
A chapel service was scheduled for 10:30 this morning in Olson Auditorium. Students didn't wait for formal gatherings, though. Several groups of three and four could be seen around campus, often facing inward, holding hands or linking arms, praying softly.
Then, a murder-suicide. A disturbed man stalking a female music professor, shot another music faculty a number of times and then turned the gun on himself. Just before what was normally called "dead week" on campus, suddently no one was in the mood to study for final exams.
I remember seeing a campus safety member running across red square (they were notorious for being slow). I remember that I was in the psychology group room, across from the counseling center, taking theories of counseling with a group of about 15 students. I remember the psychologist sticking her head in and telling our professor she needed to talk to him, NOW. Then him ushering us out of the room and into his office which had no windows across the way. Hearing that shots had been fired and we were in lockdown. The prayers that followed, in the small stuffy room full of students. Being released and coming back to my dorm lounge for news and counseling.
The man he killed - couldn't have been a more loved professor. He was the University Organist, had worked with all the choirs. I had just done a chapel service with a select few of us and he was our pianist and conductor...we sang, "Mourning into Dancing," I won't ever forget.
All the graduation speeches that year were of celebration, and loss. I will never know a reunion free of speeches about death and losing Jim Dale Holloway on May 17th, 2001.
16 page suicide note, here.
Suicide-slaying at PLU
Assailant kills professor in apparently random attack, then turns gun on himself
Friday, May 18, 2001
By HECTOR CASTRO AND JOHN LEVESQUE
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTERS
PARKLAND -- A gunman with a grudge methodically shot to death a college professor yesterday -- stepping closer with each blast from a handgun -- and then stood over the man's body and dropped a 16-page note before turning the gun on himself.
Authorities identified the victim as 40-year-old James D. Holloway, a music instructor and organist at Pacific Lutheran University. Holloway was apparently chosen at random by the 55-year-old Tacoma man who shot him, Pierce County Sheriff's Lt. Dave Hall said. (See related article.)
A group of Pacific Lutheran University students gather near the site where professor James Holloway, a popular music instructor, was gunned down by a stranger. Mike Urban / Seattle Post-Intelligencer
Click for larger photo
"He had a conflict with another PLU staff member who was not on campus. He was essentially going to be sending a message, acting out his anger toward this person and some other things by murdering a staff member at random, and then taking his own life," Hall said. "It was obvious he was very angry and very determined, and this was as premeditated as you could get."
Police identified the gunman as Donald Cowan, 55, of Tacoma. After shooting Holloway, Cowan was taken to Madigan Army Medical Center with a gunshot wound to the head. He died at 10:35 p.m.
The shooting happened about 3 p.m. on campus along a popular pathway students use to reach one of two dormitories, Hong and Hinderlie halls.
Holloway fell about 10 feet from an entrance to Hong Hall, on a blacktop pathway that leads to Eastvold Auditorium, an architectural landmark on the leafy PLU campus used by the Music Department for rehearsals and performances. A bright red stain, long and irregular, marked the spot.
"Several students saw or heard this happen," university spokeswoman Katherine Hedland said.
Sean Boyce and Shahin Allahyari, two PLU students, had just entered the Kreidler residence hall when they heard the shots. Allahyari, a 24-year-old junior, said he turned around and saw Holloway on the ground, on his back, and watched as the other man collapsed to the ground. Allahyari took out a cellular phone and called police.
Boyce, a 21-year-old senior, said: "I was kind of in a state of shock." He said he asked himself. "Are those guys dead? I'd never seen a dead body before."
Other students who arrived after the shooting and officers from PLU's Campus Safety and Information Office tried to resuscitate Holloway.
Witnesses said the shooter held a 9 mm semiautomatic handgun in his fist and had a 22-caliber handgun tucked into his waistband. He fired four shots at Holloway, striking him once in the head and three times in the torso. With each shot, Hall said, the gunman advanced one step closer to his victim.
"And then, as he was standing over this person, he dropped the note" before shooting himself, Hall said.
The note, handwritten in ink on 16 pages of yellow legal paper stapled together, outlined in detail the man's plans to kill, right down to stating that he was going to leave the note by the body of his victim.
The gunman was later found to have had extra ammunition.
Hall said the man's grievance against the other PLU employee was personal. "I guess he'd been stalking her. I don't understand the root cause of all that," he said.
The woman is on a sabbatical in Europe.
"She's safe," Hall said. "Her husband was just getting ready to leave for Europe. We got in touch with him, and he's going to notify her."
Hall said the woman had sought at least one restraining order against the gunman, but he did not know where it was filed. Detectives were still gathering information on the suspect, he said.
Investigators do not know why the gunman acted yesterday.
"We'll probably never know why he chose that particular day and location," Hall said.
Campus security officers searched the surrounding buildings for other victims, but found none. Law enforcement officers quickly descended on the campus, renowned for its music program, and cordoned off the crime scene.
The shooting had an immediate effect on the small school, which has 3,500 students and a faculty of about 300 full- and part-time instructors. The campus, with its tree-lined walkways and ornate buildings, is a gentle contrast to the urban sprawl surrounding it.
Adding to the school's sense of sanctuary is its affiliation with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.
Students here are comfortable expressing their religious beliefs, and some of them gathered near the crime scene to pray.
"How much violence are we going to endure inside the educational community before the people in charge of gun policy get the message?" asked Charles Bergman, a professor of English at PLU.
School administrators quickly called a campuswide meeting at Olson Auditorium to let students know what had happened and what counseling resources would be available to them.
Jonathan Peterson, right, a friend of slain PLU professor James Holloway, and an unidentified person pay their respects at an impromptu memorial near the site on campus where Holloway was killed Thursday afternoon. Mike Urban / Seattle Post-Intelligencer
Click for larger photo
Although their faces were mostly expressionless, PLU students couldn't help sensing the horrible coincidence of the traditional name accorded this week before final exams. It's called "Dead Week," a period of low activity when some professors cancel classes to encourage students to study for finals, and others convene class only briefly so students can hand in final projects.
School President Loren Anderson addressed a somber crowd of 2,000 students, some crying, others hugging.
"We've gathered here again in a moment of unspeakable grief and shock," Anderson said.
His statement was an apparent reference to another recent death that hit the campus community. On Feb. 24, freshman Monica Lightell, 19, died at a house party after a crowded deck collapsed. Several other students were hurt in that accident.
At the Mary Baker Russell Music Center yesterday, dozens of students gathered, many sobbing and others trying to comfort the distraught. None wished to talk with the media.
Laura Majovski, PLU's vice president for student life, invited students to gather for prayer and reflection at 10 last night at Foss Field. Organ students played PLU's Gottfried and Mary Fuchs organ last night in the Lagerquist Concert Hall in remembrance of Holloway, who had performed there several times.
Heather Barker, a 21-year-old junior majoring in music education, said Holloway made a point of making students feel welcome at the beginning of class each day.
"He would sit down at the piano and play Edvard Grieg's 'Morning,'" she said. It was his way of saying, "Hello, I'm glad you're in my class," Barker said.
A chapel service was scheduled for 10:30 this morning in Olson Auditorium. Students didn't wait for formal gatherings, though. Several groups of three and four could be seen around campus, often facing inward, holding hands or linking arms, praying softly.
