Nichols College coach at Douglas High shaken by rampage
Paul Brower didn’t fully comprehend the magnitude of the distress signal “Code Red” when it blared through a speaker Wednesday at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, but the actions of those around him spoke louder than words — and possibly saved his life.
“There’s nothing that could prepare you for being in the middle of something like that,” said Brower, director of admissions at Nichols College in Dudley, who was in Parkland, Fla., to recruit football prospects when one of the deadliest school massacres in U.S. history unfolded around him.
“I just feel for the folks there. That place was locked down as locked down can be,” the 39-year-old father told the Herald during a phone interview from Fort Myers, Fla., noting the school had extraordinary security measures that still couldn’t stop the rampage.
Brower, who is also the college’s head men’s and women’s tennis coach, traveled to Parkland with assistant football coach St. Clair Ryan.
The colleagues were in a locker room meeting with four seniors and head football coach Willis May when the fire alarm sounded.
“The fire alarm flashed for a minute. It was weird because it was so abrupt. This was 15 seconds, not even,” Brower recalled. “We started talking again and ‘Code Red’ came across the loud speaker and we said, ‘OK, this is for real.’ ”
Brower said he wasn’t entirely certain what “Code Red” meant to Douglas High until May began calmly and quickly herding everyone into his office, and then spurts of “muffled” gunfire could be heard through layers of concrete.
Later, through their window, Brower said his sheltered group spotted one “random kid” he later learned was Cruz “jogging” right past them across a basketball court, while all the other students were fleeing through the softball and baseball fields.
Sadly, he said, the four student-athletes he was meeting with learned one of their assistant football coaches, Aaron Feis, had been critically wounded trying to shield students from the bullets. Feis was later pronounced dead.
“He also worked security at the school and he put himself in harm’s way,” said Brower, who had met Feis on previous visits. “He was always there with a good laugh. Just a great guy. The kids said he was the type of guy who would run through a brick wall to help somebody.”
And though he was shaken by the experience, Brower said, “There were people going through far worse than we were.”
“These kids, and seeing the lines of parents watching for their sons and daughters,” he said. “That part, to me, was the hardest part.”