I was rather quiet after the massacre. I hardly spoke at all to the media, except for a brief radio and newspaper interview. A week after the massacre a friend asked if I was going to the protest against the NRA’s national convention. What? I hadn’t heard of this great irony—that the NRA was holding its national convention in, of all places, Denver—just ten days after the Columbine massacre.
People were going to protest the NRA’s presence, on the west steps of the State Capitol, then march around the hotel where the NRA was meeting. I was reluctant at first. My life was still a mess at that time. But as I thought about it, I decided I had to go. I couldn’t ignore Daniel’s question.
Just two weeks before the tragedy, Daniel posed a question to me out of the blue, based on a conversation with some of his debate partners. “Dad, did you know there were loopholes in the Brady Bill?” The Brady Bill was the federal law passed in 1993 that required that anyone buying a firearm from a gun shop had to first pass a background check. No, I didn’t know about loopholes in the bill, I told Daniel. I must not have shown much interest, because our conversation was a short one.
Two weeks later Daniel was killed with a gun that was purchased through one of those loopholes in the Brady Bill—the gun show loophole. How could I not respond to that question? I knew who was likely responsible for creating that loophole—the NRA. So I agreed to go to the protest.
I wrote a 2-page essay on my thoughts about gun violence and had 400 copies made to pass out at the protest. I gave a heads up to the protest organizer that I would be there. I had a large sign made, with Daniel’s photo on both sides. On one side were the words, “My son Daniel died at Columbine. He’d expect me to be here today.” On the other side: “My son died at Columbine. Don’t let his death be in vain.”
May 1st came. When I arrived at the protest , I was overwhelmed. The crowd was estimated at over 10,000. The organizer asked if I wanted to speak. I was reluctant, I had not prepared to do so. I only intended to pass out my essay. I asked him if any other Columbine parents were there and planned to speak. He told me no. Well, then, I told him, I have to speak.
A number of speakers got the crowd fired up with attacks denouncing the NRA. As I stepped to the microphone and the crowd saw my sign, it became very quiet. I was nervous. I occasionally spoke publicly at work, to small groups, but never to a crowd of this size, and certainly never under such emotionally difficult circumstances.
I don’t recall much of what I said, except for what was recorded and played by the media. I had no prepared speech; I ad-libbed, randomly echoing some of the thoughts from my written essay. “I am here today because my son Daniel would expect me to be here today. If my son Daniel was not one of the victims, he would be with me here today.”
“Something is wrong in this country, when a child can grab a gun so easily, and shoot a bullet … ” I couldn’t control my emotions and momentarily became speechless. “…And shoot a bullet into the middle of a child’s face, as my son experienced. Something is wrong.”
After the speeches, everyone joined together and marched to the large hotel complex where the NRA was meeting and encircled it. It was a very moving and symbolic scene, a representation of people encircling a stubborn group and calling for change.
When I saw the media coverage the following day, I knew my life would change. And it did. I suddenly was the Columbine dad calling for gun control. Two days later I was interviewed live on the Today Show in a mobile studio in Clement Park. Yes, two weeks later the national media was still here.
Two days later, a friend mentioned she knew someone on the White House staff and discovered that First Lady Hillary Clinton was hosting a large event on May 8th, Mothers Day, focused on keeping kids free from gun violence. She indicated the White House was reluctant to invite me to attend, given how soon it was after the tragedy. I didn’t want to pass up on an opportunity to speak to a national audience, so I contacted the White House thru that staff member and asked if I could attend and speak—even though I wasn’t a mother. I was invited. I was asked to provide a copy of my speech in advance. I quickly pulled it together and submitted it. They approved it with no adjustments, and I spoke to a large group in the East Room. You can see most of the speech on YouTube, here.
Daniel Mauser Memorial Website 