Sandy Hook Grandparents Share Stories
Their journey since the tragedy last year has been through unparalleled pain and numbing grief into a struggle to move on
Losing a grandchild is tragic under any circumstance. But when the loss is born of an act as unspeakable as the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School last Dec. 14, the anguish can barely be comprehended. How do grandparents cope when their grandchild is taken from them in such a brutal and public way? How do they begin to console a son or daughter drowning in grief, even as they struggle with their own? On the first anniversary of an atrocity that shocked the nation, AARP The Magazine visited grandparents of four of the children murdered at their Newtown, Conn., school. With generosity and grace, eight men and women told us how they have endured these last fitful months — through birthdays, holidays, never-ending tributes and commemorations, political windstorms, media invasions and countless everyday moments that remind them of the bloody day that reshaped their lives.
The Volkmanns received scores of cards and letters: "wonderful, but at the same time a constant reminder of that awful day," says Laurine. — Dan Winters
Laurine & Alfred Volkmann
Melbourne, Fla.
Grandparents of Jack Pinto, age 6
"Al and I first heard about the shooting when there was a news flash on TV," recalls Laurine, 72. "We were just finishing breakfast, lingering over a second cup of coffee. When they announced it was our grandchildren's school, we just couldn't believe it. We contacted our daughter Tricia immediately, then got into the car. We were living on Long Island at the time, about two and a half hours to Newtown. As we made the trip to Connecticut, we listened to the radio, and reports of casualties kept coming in. We were in constant touch with Tricia. She was at the local firehouse, waiting with other parents to be reunited with their kids. As the number of parents there dwindled, Tricia realized — I think we all did — that the children who hadn't been brought in were probably the ones who had been killed.
"When we arrived at their house at about 3 o'clock, Tricia was curled up in a corner, shaking. I have never seen anybody in such pain. I just wanted to be alone with my daughter and hold her. But I couldn't. The house was bedlam. The phone was ringing constantly, and the media were camped out on the front lawn. At one point, a reporter tried to sneak in through the garage. Fortunately, a state trooper was assigned to each family and helped keep things under control."
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