It is very hard to believe it’s been 20 years since my friend, Amy Silberman, lost her life in New Orleans, on NYE, 1994. She was struck in the top of the head by a bullet fired from miles away; a tragic example of being in the wrong place at the right moment.
Although I think about her often, and have mementos in my home that remind me of her every day, now seems like the right time to try to put my thoughts together. I also am deeply concerned about the insane gun culture we are grappling with, and how so many innocent and young people are dying across the country, accidental and otherwise, by guns. Amy also would have been troubled by this, and so perhaps by sharing this story, if it raises some awareness, it honors her memory.
I want to share a small part of our trip to New Orleans in December 1994, our first time there, and how it ended in a tragedy that has had profound impact on all that knew Amy, as well as many people who never met her.
While excited to visit such a legendary city, it was marred by sadness from our first day there. The morning after we arrived, December 30th, we learned the news that John Salvi had walked into a Planned Parenthood clinic in Brookline, MA, across the street from where Amy had lived, and killed two staff and injured others. We were horrified and distraught to think that such senseless violence occurred so close to where we lived.
A year later, by pure chance, I met one of the women injured in that shooting. After we told each other our stories, we hugged and cried for several minutes, as we recognized we were part of a terrible club of survivors. PTSD? Yes, it’s very, very real.
The following night was New Year’s Eve, and we planned to spend it in near Jax Brewery to watch the ball drop. The day was rainy and cold, so Amy and I spent it in a local bar eating, drinking and making friends. Despite the weather, it was a wonderful day, and I am still grateful I had that precious time with her.
Later that night, there were with thousands in the square waiting for midnight. At about 11:40pm, I heard a distant pop, and then as if in slow motion, I watched as Amy fell to the ground. As I went to her and called for help, several kind people stepped forward to try to assist.
They tried to resuscitate her, but they did not know at the time she had been shot. Of course, she was already gone. It is difficult even now to think of the hours that followed; the time in the hospital being told she was gone, phoning her father; at the hotel packing her belongings so we could get out of the city as fast as possible, and making phone calls to close friends to let them know she was gone. Then, days later, flying to her hometown in Cleveland for the service. It is a time that is seared in my memory, and it changed my life forever.
Amy was a smart and loving person. She was a daughter, cousin, granddaughter, sister, aunt, valued employee, and a friend to many. She was not perfect. She made mistakes, had her struggles and demons, as do we all. But she had plans for her life. She wanted to be alive. She loved her family, and had people who depended on her. She had belongings in an apartment that I packed up with her dad. She was 31 years old.
One split second decision to fire a gun without understanding the consequences caused
immeasurable pain and torment for so many. It offends and disgusts me to hear from those who are so quick to dismiss a shooting death without any appreciation, empathy, even common decency for the impact of a senseless death. Walk for five minutes in the shoes of a family member....see how you feel then.
Every life lost triggers trauma, grief, regret, overwhelming despair, and sense of loss that is never repaired. Think about this when you hear of an unarmed teen gunned down, or a young child who finds a gun and kills themselves or someone else accidentally. While we move on with our lives, the families struggle with that death every minute of every day for the rest of their lives.
You never want to witness the anguish of a parent seeing their dead child for the first time. It’s an experience I will never, ever forget.
I miss you Amy, and you will never be forgotten.
What I learned from Amy's death, and my wish to all: be safe, love your neighbor, appreciate what you have, do something nice for a stranger every day, show empathy for the struggles of others, never miss a chance to say "I love you", and think before you speak. Peace.