Author: Stu Bell is a Tumbler Ridge native. He and his wife Amber have three kids, two of whom attend Tumbler Ridge Secondary.
When Kylie Smith’s parents were having custody issues, Stu and Amber took her and her brother in to live with them for the better part of a year. Like so many, he was deeply affected by the shooting. He posted this on Facebook, and I asked if I could share. Here’s what he wrote.
It’s happening.
My old school, Tumbler Ridge Secondary School (TRSS), is being torn down, and I am feeling a massive amount of relief.
We all know what happened.
The building had to go.
There’s been a few around town and online who disagree. Comments and laments like “but that was my school, I want to revisit”, “the building didn’t do anything wrong” and “no kid who doesn’t want to return HAS to go in there, but the rest of us should” circled the internet the day the news of the schools demise came out.
I remember that day very well, it was Kylie’s birthday. It should’ve been her 13th birthday party. We had a party for her. My 5-year-old daughter Isla got really upset, she couldn’t understand why Kylie wasn’t at her own birthday party. She just wanted to see her Kylie again. No more than 15 minutes afterwards, all of our phones vibrated with the email that came in letting know the decision had been made, and the school was coming down. It felt like Kylie got us a gift for her birthday. Soon we wouldn’t have to look at the building where she lost her life every single day. A place where we thought—no—KNEW, that our babies were safe in.
Some of that relief was soured in the hours that passed as we saw what some people were saying online. Some comments so toxic, and only three months after the event, that it was clear that even some local people did not have empathy for what the kids actually went through that day.
The kids, the teachers, the support staff, the first responders—they bore witness to something so awful, it will stay with them forever. Many will call it by name: PTSD. I have met military vets who will avoid certain aisles of the grocery store because seeing a certain product will trigger a memory so vile that it will takes them weeks to recover from. That is how powerful PTSD can be linked in the brain after a horrible event. So many people who were in that school on that day will have triggers they are yet unaware of, and I think it’s our job as a society, as a community, and as family, to help mitigate and protect them from those triggers. We have generational trauma to navigate here.
My teenagers made it very clear how they felt when we spoke of the school—no one should go in there again. That sentiment was shared by most everyone who was in there that day. In fact, if you could read between the lines, one could see a clear correlation between those who were against the school being demolished and how connected they were to the school. The closer to the building one was on February 10, the more they felt it needed to go.
There’s a handful of people who think the building could’ve been repurposed. I understand this sentiment, and the longing to be less wasteful in our throwaway society, but still disagree. This is Tumbler Ridge, and I can’t imagine that building becoming anything that wouldn’t inevitably bring some students back inside. Some people have suggested offices, or a banquet hall, or some private venture. In any of these I can easily imagine in ten years from now, when the students who were in there have entered the work force, that at least one would walk through those doors thinking they were going to be okay. I can also imagine they might not go back home to their families the same person that day as PTSD symptoms set in. Maybe those symptoms begin to affect the mental health of those around them, like the families many of them will have. Individually this isn’t likely, but spread it across the number of students who were in there that day, and give it a scale of decades, and it becomes almost inevitable. We have now seen what how person’s mental health can damage the lives of those around them. Part of why I have felt so strongly about this, is not just because demolishing the school is the right thing to do, but as time goes on it becomes a matter of public safety.
Some folks have tried to argue it’s a waste of taxpayer money. That’s an argument I can’t get behind. What’s the point of taxes if not for things like schools, hospitals, roads, firehalls? In recent years we’ve watched the value of cash being eaten away by inflation—that $20 bill that’s sat in the drawer for a year now doesn’t have the spending power it did when you first stowed it away. What makes anyone think that the money the government is holding onto is any different? The best way to protect that value is to invest. Infrastructure has always been a sound investment, not just in value stored, but value returned to the people in quality of life. Those making that argument haven’t thought it all the way through in my opinion. The money must be spent somewhere, it’s about time Tumbler Ridge got its share back.
Today is a day of rebirth. We are tearing down the old and building anew. This is both spiritual and physical. We need this. I am so sick of looking at this building everyday.
I loved that school; it’s the only high school I ever attended. My brother and sister went there, my mother taught there. It’s the end of an era.
The first time I held a girl’s hand, the first time played guitar on a stage, the first time I stood up to a bully. These all happened within the walls of Tumbler Ridge Secondary School. It’s a mixed bag of emotions, but at the end of the day, I’m so happy that I won’t have to see that building every single day anymore.
Goodbye TRSS. I’ll miss the good times we had.
