2013年07月27日
When word of the shootings spread
When word of the shootings spread, Tom Sullivan rushed to the staging area at the high school parking lot. His son Alex had gone to see the new Batman movie to celebrate his 27th birthday, two days before his first wedding anniversary.
When he learned that Alex was gone, Tom cried out and embraced his wife and daughter — a moment captured in a photo that ran on dozens of newspaper front pages and websites.
Weeping in the parking lot, Sullivan realized he had no regrets about his relationship with his son. Each knew how much he was loved by the other. They went on guys-only Super Bowl trips to Las Vegas, celebrating craps wins with Jameson whiskey and cigars. When Alex turned 18 and wanted to get a tattoo, Tom got one too, even though he admitted the experience left him a little pale and sweaty.
"There were no unspoken words," said Sullivan.
He laughs easily when remembering his son. He's drawn comfort over the past year from talking about Alex, and the lesson he had learned: We must appreciate what we have.
He also has testified in favor of gun control laws at the state Capitol and went to the reopening of the Aurora movie theater, an event many other victims' families boycotted, including Alex's widow. His son loved going to the movies and the theater is part of the community — a place where people come together, where kids can ride to on their bikes.
Sullivan has been back to the theater about a half dozen times, sometimes watching movies in the revamped auditorium where his son was killed. He sits in the seat and row where he believes Alex was sitting and leaves an empty seat for him.
It hasn't always been easy. Each Friday and the 20th of each month have been a reminder of loss. His wife Terry, a school bus driver, didn't want summer vacation to come even as the children around her grew more excited.
"Some days we're not moving forward, some days we're just making it through," he said.
July 20 has been a day Tom Sullivan has celebrated his whole life — his mother's birthday, and then Alex's. This year, he'll probably participate in some of the public events marking the event, though he said he won't be going for his own sake. He wants to show people that he's OK — and that they, too, can try to go back to normal life.
And he'll probably have some Jameson and cigars, to remember Alex.
When he learned that Alex was gone, Tom cried out and embraced his wife and daughter — a moment captured in a photo that ran on dozens of newspaper front pages and websites.
Weeping in the parking lot, Sullivan realized he had no regrets about his relationship with his son. Each knew how much he was loved by the other. They went on guys-only Super Bowl trips to Las Vegas, celebrating craps wins with Jameson whiskey and cigars. When Alex turned 18 and wanted to get a tattoo, Tom got one too, even though he admitted the experience left him a little pale and sweaty.
"There were no unspoken words," said Sullivan.
He laughs easily when remembering his son. He's drawn comfort over the past year from talking about Alex, and the lesson he had learned: We must appreciate what we have.
He also has testified in favor of gun control laws at the state Capitol and went to the reopening of the Aurora movie theater, an event many other victims' families boycotted, including Alex's widow. His son loved going to the movies and the theater is part of the community — a place where people come together, where kids can ride to on their bikes.
Sullivan has been back to the theater about a half dozen times, sometimes watching movies in the revamped auditorium where his son was killed. He sits in the seat and row where he believes Alex was sitting and leaves an empty seat for him.
It hasn't always been easy. Each Friday and the 20th of each month have been a reminder of loss. His wife Terry, a school bus driver, didn't want summer vacation to come even as the children around her grew more excited.
"Some days we're not moving forward, some days we're just making it through," he said.
July 20 has been a day Tom Sullivan has celebrated his whole life — his mother's birthday, and then Alex's. This year, he'll probably participate in some of the public events marking the event, though he said he won't be going for his own sake. He wants to show people that he's OK — and that they, too, can try to go back to normal life.
And he'll probably have some Jameson and cigars, to remember Alex.
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