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The 17th of September was a quiet, calm day. Very little fanfare, a routine, garden variety, run-of-the-mill work day for me after a tumultuous day and night that had occurred on the 16th of September-the day before.
But something was not right.
Something seemed peculiar. The
meeting we had all lived through and witnessed the night before was a real
event. It happened. It was not a dream. It was a train-wreck of the worst kind and
the effects of it were still on my mind.
Yes, we had a tremendously emotional meeting on the 16th,
we fired a popular coach, and we witnessed a significant display of civil
disobedience. We watched a meeting get
out of control. Thank God it ended up
diffusing itself, with some well-placed improvisation, some additional
discussions on boring routine agenda items, some luck, and the presence of 6
Armed Deputy Sheriffs encircling our dais.
But before it ended, threats were made. Persons had to be physically restrained. One person was held back by three grown
men. Threats were made. How many weapons
were in the room, over and above the guns in the Deputies’ holsters? Nobody knew, and nobody knows. Was that kid in the video holding a
weapon? Couldn’t tell. More Threats were
made, loudly.
“I’m going to KILL HIM!”-this was one threat that was made
from the group in the audience, and it was reported to the appropriate
authorities. But who said it? Nobody could specify who it was. Kill who?
That’s my question as the newspaper reports I’m the pivotal third vote
to fire the coach. Kill me? Or was this threat directed to Bill Slayton,
the other vote to fire the coach? Or was
it directed to
