Daniel’s Shoes

Within a few weeks of the massacre Linda and I decided we had to deal with Daniel’s belongings.  We did not want his room frozen in time as a shrine.  We decided to give many of Daniel’s clothes to charity.  As we cleared out his closet, I came upon a pair of tennis shoes.  Reeboks.  White.  I had no idea what size shoes he wore.  Linda said they were size ten and a half.  I was amazed; that was my size, too.  I tried them on, and they fit perfectly.  How fitting. 

It wasn’t until a few months later that their symbolic meaning fully struck me.  I came to realize that they could serve as an ongoing reminder to others of the pain of losing one’s child to gun violence.  From time to time over the next few years, I wore those shoes to a number of events and spoke of them to the crowd. I proudly wore them, then waved them in triumph over my head, at the victory party when Amendment 22 was passed by the voters.

Newer Shoes, Deeper Meaning

The Reeboks became less symbolic and special in 2004.  Five years after the massacre, the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office informed the Columbine families they were prepared to return the possessions of our loved ones that had been cataloged as evidence. Daniel’s remaining belongings were what he was wearing that day.  I didn’t want his clothes, I only wanted his shoes.  A dark pair of Vans tennis shoes. 

Since these were the shoes he was wearing when he died, they were hallowed to me.  To me, the shoes were energizing, enabling and inspiring.  I was not about to be as casual about wearing them as I was with the Reeboks.  I only wear them on special occasions, mostly when I speak publicly or am interviewed.  I intend to keep them in good shape for the rest of my life, for someday they’ll be passed on to my children and grandchildren…   

I treasure the guest book entry submitted through Daniel’s Web site by Michael Williams from New York.  “I was touched by how your son moved you with one thought that was so important to him.  In our lives we hope that our children will follow in our footsteps, but you actually walked in HIS.  What a wonderful opportunity for you. I’m sure he looks down on you every day and tells everybody ‘That’s my Dad.’”