Mr. President, 2 days before the tragic shooting in Santa Fe, which has rightly dominated the news for the last several days, Texas experienced another mass shooting when a man killed his three children, his ex-wife's boyfriend, and…
Mr. President, 2 days before the tragic shooting in Santa Fe, which has rightly dominated the news for the last several days, Texas experienced another mass shooting when a man killed his three children, his ex-wife's boyfriend, and himself. Mass shootings are generally characterized as incidents where four or more people are shot at one time. It is a catastrophic event for a community to have four people shot in one instance. That shooting 2 days before the Santa Fe school shooting was the 100th mass shooting in the United States of America in 2018. We average about a mass shooting every single day in this country.
In the 3 days following the Santa Fe High School shooting, there were around 88 gun deaths and 222 gun injuries in this country. That is a big number. It is the most in any 72-hour span so far in 2018.
Rightly, our attention has been directed toward the community of Santa Fe as they try to recover from the unrecoverable--another targeting of children in a school in this country. It is important to remind ourselves that no
matter whether the shooting happens on a street corner, in a school, in a movie theater, or in one's home, the devastation for those who lose their brother or their sister or their husband or their wife is no less or no greater, whatever the circumstances may be.
In the 3 days after Santa Fe, as the country could have been deluded into thinking that was the only shooting of any consequence in the country, 88 people lost their lives from guns, and 222 others were shot and survived--part of the 33,000 a year, 2,800 a month, and 93 on average a day who are killed by guns in this country. It is a mix of suicides and accidental shootings, domestic violence incidents, mass shootings, and homicides, but there is no other country in the world in which the number is this big.
There have been 5,531 deaths from gun violence in 2018 alone. That is according to Gun Violence Archive. Twelve hundred kids have been killed or injured, and we are not even halfway through the year.
Our rate of gun violence in this country is 20 times higher than that of all our other competitor OECD nations. It is not because our schools are less safe. It is not because we have more instances of mental illness. It is not because we have more troubled young men. It is not because we spend less money on law enforcement. You control all of the other factors that people claim to be the reason for these crimes, and it cannot--it does not--explain why this epidemic is happening here and nowhere else.
What is different about the United States is that we have the loosest, laxest gun laws of the OECD nations. What is different about the United States is that in shooting after shooting, killing after killing, we do nothing. We do nothing of substance or significance to condemn or change this trajectory of violence.
I argue to you that would-be shooters who are contemplating acts of mass violence--who clearly have had something go wrong in their mind to consider such a thing--see our silence as a green light. Of course, we don't mean it that way, but when we refuse to do anything other than make minor tweaks to Federal gun laws year after year, young men who are contemplating doing something like this, seeing no substantial condemnation or change in law, pervert that silence into permission.
I think that is what is happening today. That is why I argue that we have become complicit in these murders, whether we think we are or not. We are grieving hard for Santa Fe, but we are grieving hard for all of the other victims.
I sat with the President at the White House a few months ago as he told us he was going to fix this problem. He was lying. He wasn't telling the truth. He had no intention of fixing the problem. The President had the gun lobby in the next day, and all of a sudden the discussion evaporated. He talked a lot in that meeting about school safety and arming teachers, but it is important to note that Santa Fe High had adopted really aggressive measures to prevent a school shooting. They had resource officers who were armed, two of them. They had approved a plan to arm teachers, though they had not started to do so. They had gone through a very successful lockdown. They had won an award for that response. In this school they thought they were ready, and they weren't.
This has to be about a conversation rooted in data. The data will tell you that more guns will not solve this problem and that for every time a gun you own is used in self-defense, there are four times that a privately owned gun is used in an unintentional shooting, seven times that a privately owned gun is used in an assault or murder, and 11 times that a gun is used in a suicide. The data doesn't back up the fact that more guns are going to solve this problem.
Beyond the data, there are these faces, there are these people, there are these lives that were cut short. I want to spend the remaining few minutes telling you a few of their stories. I have tried to do that over the years--to come and put a hole in the data and let you know who these people are whom we have lost.
On average, psychiatrists and mental health professionals tell us that when one person is killed by a gun, there are 20 other people who experience trauma or some level of trauma.
In Santa Fe, we think a lot today about Cynthia Tisdale. She was 63. She was a substitute teacher for children with special needs. She got married when she was 17 years old, and she took care of her ailing husband. He was very sick for 47 years. He said:
She was a good woman. She watched out for me.
Her son said:
She loved to help children. She didn't have to do it. She
did it because she loved it.
Cynthia Tisdale is gone at 63.
Sabika Sheikh was 17 years old. Unlike the others who were killed in that school, she didn't have any family in the United States. Santa Fe was her adopted community. She was staying with a family. The family she left behind, her adoptive family in Texas, said: ``We loved her and she loved us,'' adding that the ``root of our issues is love because when people love each other, these kinds of things don't happen.'' Sabika dreamed one day of being a diplomat and working to empower women. She died at age 17.
Christopher Jake Stone was 17 as well. He was the youngest of three siblings in Santa Fe. He and his siblings were known as the ``three Stones.'' His sister said:
Being a brother was his best job. He was always there if
someone needed someone to listen to or some cheering up.
Definitely the life of the party, and one of the most
understanding, open-minded kids I know.
She said in a Facebook message: ``He had a lot of heart.''
Two days later, to give you a sense of the scope of this, Kimberly Phillips was in a parking lot at a Shell gas station in Chattanooga, TN, when her ex-husband found her, shot her, and then killed himself afterward. It was a murder-suicide, one of the thousands partner-on- partner incidents of domestic violence that happen in this country.
One of her coworkers at the senior living community where she worked said:
Today I lost one of the most caring, loving caregivers I
have ever had on my team. . . . She loved her residents and
took their care very seriously.
She was 48 years old.
The day before that, Sherrell Wheatley was walking home from feeding one of her neighbor's dogs in Dayton, OH. Her neighbor said that she did this all the time. She cooked a lot, and she would cook all the scraps and take them to feed the neighbor's dog. She was walking home, and she was shot as a bystander in a driveby shooting. She was a mom, grandma, aunt, an active member of her local community, a volunteer in the local elementary school, and a pillar of kindness.
Her son, a quadriplegic who relied on her care, said:
That was my mom--
She was helping people, even at the moment she died.
I loved her. She was my angel, she was my everything, and
somebody snatched that away from me.
Those are just 5 of the victims who died over a 2- or 3-day period of time--32,000 a year, 2,200 a month, 93 a day--and we are doing nothing.
I appreciate some of my colleagues working on a minor adjustment to our background check laws earlier this year. I am not saying that is totally inconsequential, but it doesn't match up to the moment.
What is wild is, we are the only ones who don't think we should do anything. Americans have woken up to what is happening, and they are desperate for us to change the laws. In fact, 97 percent of Americans think we should pass universal background checks. By a 2-to-1 margin, people think we should get these assault weapons and military-style killing machines off the streets. People support things like what we did in Connecticut, requiring people to get local police permits for carrying a handgun. These are not controversial outside of the U.S. Senate.
Increasingly, Americans have come to realize that no one is safe. In that heartbreaking video, a young woman, I think just hours after the shooting, was asked by a newscaster whether she found it hard to fathom that the school shooting had happened at her school. To paraphrase her answer, she said: No, I wasn't surprised. It happens everywhere, and I just figured it was a matter of time before it happened here.
Nicole Hockley, who lost her son at Sandy Hook, says all the time that she
never, ever expected to be one of these parents grieving the loss of a child. She reminds everyone she talks to that you don't imagine you will be in that situation either, but if you don't do something about it, if you don't stand up and speak truth to power, it might be you too.
I will continue to come to the floor and tell these stories--these voices of the victims who have been silenced through gun violence. Hopefully, at some point, we will wake up to the need for change.
I yield the floor.
I suggest the absence of a quorum.