One of the most awe-inspiring sights on our impressive campus is, of course, the Tower. Truly discovering the meaning of the term “better late than never,” I took my first Tower tour last week after a mere three years on the Forty Acres.
For those who have never been: go. Now. Seeing the rolling hills to the west, one of our country’s most important cities to the south, and picturesque fountains, luscious trees and many of the schools to the east is truly awe inspiring.
The UT Tower has a good deal of lore and trivia as well, such as just edging out the state capitol in height or turning beautiful burnt orange after a win (sometimes with a large number “1”, which we were unfortunately robbed of last Wednesday).
However, the Tower also conjures up images Austinites and Longhorns are not so fond of. Namely, an occasion in early August, 1966, that resulted in 17 people, mostly students, dead and many more injured.
This day is difficult to discuss for many on campus, even today, and will come up in conversation far less frequently than one might imagine.
For those who don’t know, an ex-marine suffering from a cancerous tumor in his brain — the best guess as to what caused his actions taken that day — ascended the Tower on August 1, 1966, and began firing a rifle indiscriminately at civilians. Approximately an hour and a half later, he was gunned down by two of Austin’s bravest police officers, and the horrific incident was over.
This rampage is one that will scar UT’s history for as long as our doors remain open — but that does not mean nothing can be learned from the incident. Aside from the obvious need for metal detectors now in front of the elevator and the better care given to someone who has a tumor that can drive a person to do something like what the ex-marine did, Austin learned that day that guns make people safer.
On the surface, that statement sounds silly, given that without guns, the incident couldn’t have possibly occurred in the first place. But following that line of logic would lead us to ban many things we don’t consider dangerous, like cars that drunk people can drive, steak knives that can be used to rob houses and anything that could be used as a weapon.
Without question, the shooter himself should not have had access to a weapon in his mental state. What needs to be remembered about that day, though, is that students and civilians around campus went to their homes and came back armed.
Any report about the day shows that once they realized they were under attack, the people who had the presence of mind to shoot back began to open fire. This had the dual effects of forcing the sniper to aim out of the water spouts, reducing his line of sight and consequentially his victims, and forced the sniper to play defense rather than ensuring that no police could make their way up the tower to stop him.
The students last spring who marched to the capitol were quite adamant that such an incident would never occur again. They superficially hypothesized that if they could ensure the concealed carry on campus bill making its way to a vote at the time could be halted, weapons could not find their way into the hands of students, and everyone on campus would be safe.
While well-intended, the idea of barring constitutional rights for students here at UT in order to guarantee everyone’s safety is asinine. For example, one needs to look no further than that horrific August day when a shooter, who lived off campus, was able to carry a gun onto campus with ease.
Some people point to statistics, showing that, in a crisis, people lose what they learned in training and aren’t as accurate as they need to be. Indeed, when a civilian went up to the tower to take down the sniper, he did accidentally discharge his weapon. One incident aside, the police that day give credit to the people who aided them and said that without such aid, more would have died.
This year’s legislative session has ended. But the issue of guns on campus will undoubtedly come up in the future. When it does, consider the fact that the most notorious incident of gun related violence in our school’s history would have been far worse had it not been for students who were armed. Many freedoms can be abridged in the name of safety, but in this case, our freedoms have been abridged, and we are less safe for it.
Prelosky is a government senior.
This brings us to the same question as always. Why are those who choose to attend college so much less trustworthy than any other adult? If we can generally trust people with CHL permits to carry safely, what makes those carrying on a college campus SO much more dangerous?