Gabby_ A Story of Courage and Hope - Alison Hanson [85]
That’s when my friend Tilman Fertitta came into my head.
Given his restaurant and casino businesses all over the country, he had his own plane. When I told him about the shooting, he jumped into action. “The plane is about to be taken apart for maintenance,” he told me. “Let me call them right this minute.”
He stopped the mechanics in time and had the plane fueled while I packed two suitcases. I didn’t know how long I’d be in Tucson, so I figured I’d better be prepared. The girls begged to come with me, and I finally relented. After my mom offered to join us and look after them, the four of us jumped into my car and headed for Houston’s Hobby Airport.
At first, there was nothing on the news about the shooting. We were listening to CNN on the car’s satellite radio. But then, shortly before we arrived at the airport, the first “breaking news” from Tucson was reported. It was about forty-five minutes after the shooting began.
Once the news was out, my cell phone started vibrating as friends and colleagues learned what had happened and tried to reach me. I didn’t answer any of their calls. We were too frantic rushing to get onto the plane. Once it was in the air, I tried to figure out if the TV system on board would work. It turned right on, and we were able to get CNN and Fox News.
In hindsight, however, watching the television was a great mistake.
We had the TV set to Fox, which at first had limited information, but then reported news that had just aired on National Public Radio: “Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona has been shot and killed during a public event in Tucson, Arizona.”
It was the most shocking moment of my life.
My mother screamed and the girls began crying. I was so distraught I didn’t know what to do except to stand up and go into the plane’s tiny restroom.
I sat in there on the lid of the toilet with my head in my hands. I cried. Gabby was the most amazing person I had ever met, full of life and optimism. Now she was gone. What would the coming days look like? I didn’t know what to do or what I could say to my kids and my mom. Through the bathroom door they could hear the muffled sounds of my grief, and I could hear theirs.
After a few minutes, I wiped away the tears, splashed some water on my face, and pulled myself together the best I could. I came out of the bathroom and hugged the girls. Claudia later said it seemed as if my whole body was crying.
We switched on CNN, which also was reporting that Gabby was dead. “I should tell you,” said the CNN anchor, Martin Savidge, “that NPR is now reporting that Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords has, in fact, died, as have six other people.” A few minutes later, he said: “For those of you tuning in, CNN has confirmed that Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords was killed at a shooting that took place at a grocery store.”
“Confirmed.” That was the word CNN was using.
Minutes later, one of the pilots, Dave Dinapoli, yelled back to us in the cabin, “Tilman is on the phone.”
I picked up the phone and Tilman said, “I’m watching the news and they’re saying Gabby died. I don’t believe it. Something is screwed up here.” Other news outlets had been reporting that Gabby was taken to the hospital. Dead people aren’t usually taken to hospitals. Tilman told me how to use the phone on the plane so I could try to call Pia.
Pia answered right away. “I’ve spoken to Gloria,” she told me. “She’s at the hospital now. Gabby is there and she’s alive. They’ve taken her into surgery.”
I repeated what Pia had told me to Claudia, Claire, my mom, and the pilots. We were numb but relieved. Hearing that Gabby was dead had been rock bottom for us. After we learned that she was still breathing, at least for my family, there was reason for hope.
From the plane, I was able to send an e-mail to Scott Simon, my friend at NPR. His show,