With smoke cleared from Temple of Time, now what?
Before it went up in flames on Sunday, I visited the Temple of Time in Coral Springs seeking something — I don’t know what — perhaps some peace, some comfort, some communal expression of the grief that grips my heart whenever I think about what happened at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School on 2-14.
It was like visiting the Vietnam Wall in Washington, D.C., where you’re compelled to touch the names on the granite wall and consider the lives lost far too soon.
Here, though, the names were inked on little squares of wood.
“Alaina, Alex, Alyssa.”
“Dance on, Jaime.”
“Peter, forever our sunshine.” “Bless them all.”
I took a Sharpie and struggled to find the words.
I looked at the people standing silently around me, absorbing, praying. I searched the hand-scrawled notes for something that spoke to the sadness I felt. I saw messages about standing strong and being kind. I saw only one note about the killer who created such hell and heartbreak.
The delicately carved wooden temple was meant to be a place to express your pain and let it go in Sunday night’s ceremonial burning. I wasn’t feeling optimistic.
Outside, in the shadow of its 35-foot spire, I talked to the artist, David Best of California, about his feelings.
“What surprised me was that I thought I was coming to deal with 17 families, and I ended up working with firefighters, police, dispatchers, the people at Starbucks and people across this whole community.
“This morning I’d almost given up,” he added. “Someone asked me, “Was it a success?” In light of what’s going on in the world, I felt like, ‘No, it didn’t work.’ And then this morning, one of the dispatchers came here for the first time. And we held each other. And then I knew it worked.
“If we tried to make it a thing to stop gun violence or end the pain of these families, I couldn’t do it. But if we’re lucky enough to reach one person, then it was a success.”
When he first began the Power of Art project, Best said he was confronted by a parent who opposed it. “The next day I met a second family, who came up to me and said, ‘Oh, are you the artist?’ I fell down on my knees, crying. They made the project work for me.”
“Can I ask you something?” interjected a man listening in.
More than a question, the man had something to say. “I guarantee if one of these children was one of my children, and the politicians had done nothing, I would be living in their office. They would have to do something about this. In Brazil, someone shot up the school and the governor immediately took charge and removed every gun from every house. We don’t have the commitment or the guts to do this.”
“So you believe in Santa Claus?” the artist replied. “Because it’s not going to change.”
“That’s the problem,” the man responded. “Why is it not going to change? Are we committed to do it?”
I thought of Gayle Schwartz of Boca Raton, whose nephew, Alex Schachter, was killed in the 1200 building at MSD. She and a group of other people are committed to passing a state constitutional amendment that would ban the household sale of military-style assault weapons in Florida. The website is called Ban Assault Weapons Now. Find out more at www.bawnfl.org
I knew then what I wanted to write on my piece of wood.
“May something good please come from such great sadness.”
Sign the petition. It’s not a silver bullet, but now that the smoke has cleared, it could have a more lasting effect.