The Bookworm: Columbine

Columbine, by Dave Cullen. 443 pages. Twelve. 2009.

Sue Petrone asked for and received the two sidewalk blocks her son Danny died on. They were jackhammered out of the ground and installed in her backyard, in the shadow of a fragrant spruce tree. Around the slab, she created a rock garden, with two big wooden tubs overflowing with petunias. She had a sturdy oak truss constructed over the slab, and a porch swing suspended from the crossbeam. She and Rich and their shaggy little dog can nestle comfortably into the generous swing (p. 324).

For my birthday in 2012, my aunt, uncle, and cousins came over to help celebrate. I had a couple presents to open, and after unwrapping Columbine I saw my cousin cringe. She made a valiant effort to mask her disgust with a forced smile, but it was obvious from her expression that she thought, “Oh my God. What an awful thing to read about!”

I suppose it is, but, as a landmark event for my generation, Columbine is something I felt compelled to learn more about. As a high school student at the time it happened, I was acutely aware of the shockwaves it sent through the nation. Unfortunately, I did not know much more than the basic who-what-when-where — some of it no doubt tainted by persistent conjecture and myth. I wanted facts. I wanted to know what exactly happened and perhaps why. Columbine delivered that.

Written by Dave Cullen, a freelance reporter who was on-scene at Columbine less than an hour after the massacre started, Columbine offers a thorough and gripping account of the events of April 20, 1999, profiles of the perpetrators, details of the planning, stories of those involved, and coverage of the controversial investigation. Sobering reports of the profound and life-long effects felt by the survivors and victim’s families are also included.

Cullen masterfully braids two different narratives: one provides a chronological account that starts the Friday before the massacre and methodically winds its way to the present, and another offers comprehensive background information regarding Jefferson County, the school and its prominent figures, the Harris and Klebold families, Eric and Dylan, and their planning and preparation. At the end, the second narrative meets the first, enclosing a ring of total coverage. Cullen dispels popular myths (regarding the Trench Coat Mafia, the influence of violent video games and movies, stereotypes of school shooters, kneejerk scapegoating, and other urban legends), presents excerpts from the killer’s personal records and the psychological portraits developed by investigators, describes the barrage of national media coverage, and recounts the divisive proselytizing by Evangelical organizations in the massacre’s immediate aftermath.

Cullen’s thoroughness and reporting is astounding and admirable. As I said, he has been writing about Columbine since it happened and this book is heavily influenced by his extensive knowledge and past reporting. The notes section, which is an abridged version of the one available on his website, makes it evident that Columbine was a project years in the making. Cullen pored over and utilized the numerous official reports, volumes of public records, and just about every news story and feature about the massacre since the day it happened. The result of his painstaking research is a factual reconstruction and history. Though he acknowledges in the Author’s Note on Sources that “I have abbreviated some exchanges without insertion of ellipses, and have corrected some grammatical errors” when recreating scenes and exchanges from eyewitness accounts and testimony, Cullen assures readers that “No dialogue was made up (p. xiii).”

Cullen does a good job of profiling Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. He shows that, despite the nightmare they caused, Harris and Klebold were not that different from most American teenagers. They had typical teenage interests and conflicts. Klebold attended prom the previous weekend, was an avid baseball fan, and even worked on a fantasy baseball trade the night before the massacre. Both were very intelligent and gifted students who were not labeled as outcasts or targeted by bullies. Instead, they were the bullies. (“Despite the press’s obsession with bullying and misfits, that’s not how the boys presented themselves. Dylan laughed about picking on the new freshmen and “fags.” Neither one complained about bullies picking on them — they boasted about doing it themselves (p. 258).”) Harris and Klebold were a motley crew: one was an egotistic, destructive, manipulative, hate-filled psychopath and the other an introspective, love-obsessed depressive. It is obvious from the evidence that Harris was the mastermind behind the massacre; his superiority complex and senseless bloodlust was the major motivation. Klebold, who also had feelings of superiority, yearned for death. Despite his willing cooperation and meek imitations of Harris, it seems he was following Harris’ lead and played along in an adventure that would end in suicide.

Cullen also includes in depth accounts from Columbine principal Frank DeAngelis and profiles Dave Sanders, who was the only faculty member killed. Cullen covers the long, difficult, but triumphant recovery of Patrick Ireland, who is famous for falling out of the library window, and also tells the stories of other survivors.

Though it is an awful and unfortunate subject, and sometimes gut-wrenching to read, Columbine is authoritative and insightful. It delivers all the who-what-when-where information I wanted and then some. A definitive “why” may always be elusive, but the book reiterates something we have always known: the massacre at Columbine was mindless and unnecessary.

Words I did not know/am still unfamiliar with: All definitions are courtesy of my MacBook dictionary. Adulation: “obsequious flattery; excessive admiration or praise.” Dorothy Hamill: When describing the regulars at the Columbine Lounge, “an ass-kicking strip-mall honky-tonk with the feel of an Allman Brothers club gig in Macon in the 1970s (p. 19),” Cullen wrote, “it was filled with fortyish women in Dorothy Hamill wedge cuts.” Hamill, an American, won a gold medal in singles figure skating at the 1976 Winter Olympics. I guess the “wedge cut” was her signature look back then. Itinerant: “traveling from place to place.” Winsome: “attractive or appealing in appearance or character.” Unimpeachable: “not able to be doubted, questioned, or criticized; entirely trustworthy.” Mussy: “make (someone's hair or clothes) untidy or messy.” Bon mot: “a witty remark.” The literal translation from French is “good word.” (I guess all those years of French finally paid off!) Glommed: past participle of “glom,” which is another term for “steal.” Labile: “liable to change; easily altered.” Dyad: “something that consists of two elements or parts.” Bandy: “pass on or discuss (an idea or rumor) in a casual or uniformed way.” Reconnoiter: “make a military observation of (a region).” Intractable: “hard to control or deal with.” Effusive: “expressing feelings of gratitude, pleasure, or approval in an unrestrained or heartfelt manner.”