Nerves and emotions here in Ottawa are still raw, days after a lone gunman shot and killed a reservist standing on guard at the National War Memorial and then stormed his way into Parliament’s iconic Centre Block.
The deadly shooting, which took the life of 24-year old Cpl. Nathan Cirillo, a reservist from Hamilton, and in-jured three others, has left the nation’s capital reeling.
Emotions range from grief to sorrow, edged with shock, anger and utter bafflement.
On a typical Wednesday morning, I arrive at Parliament around 9:50 a.m., in time for the usual caucus outs (reporter jargon for interviews with MPs and cabinet ministers coming out of their weekly caucus meetings).
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It is the busiest day on the Hill, with everyone milling about and sprinting down the marble hallways chasing this story or that.
That Oct. 22 morning, though, I was running late. A CTV news alert, combined with a frantic text from my brother as I headed out the door, told me at least one shooter was on the loose.
Time stood still.
Panic, fear and near paralyzing worry set in as I hurried out the door. Several of my colleagues were already on the Hill. I had no idea if they were safe.
Adrenalin took over as I drove to the office, the eight-minute drive a blur and unmemorable apart from a frantic phone call to my mother to reassure her I was unharmed.
Having worked on Parliament Hill in various capacities for nearly five years, I would be remiss if I didn’t admit that the thought of a shooting on Parliament Hill had previously crossed my mind.
After all, Parliament Hill, with its symbolic Peace Tower, marbled hallways and intricate carvings, is one of the most recognized buildings in the country. It is the heart of this country’s democracy, where legislation is crafted, moral issues debated and the Canadian identity solidified.
It’s not the first time the building has come under attack.
For example, in the 1960s a man died during an explosion in a parliamentary bathroom while trying to prepare a bomb.
Nor will Parliament be immune in the future from incidents like the one last week.
In the aftermath of the Oct. 22 shooting, many in Ottawa and around the world argued Canada had lost its innocence.
The country had changed forever, they said. Parliament Hill would never be the same.
There is no question the date will be remembered as a dark day in Canada’s history books, when innocent blood was inexplicably shed for reasons that may never be fully understood.
The grief is only compounded by the senseless murder of another unsuspecting solider, warrant officer Patrice Vincent, in Quebec just days earlier.
Nor will Parliament Hill let her new scars, reflected in the broken windows, bullet markings and chipped wooden benches along her hallowed Hall of Honour, hold her back from fulfilling her democratic duty.
The tragedy last week must not be used as an excuse to make decisions out of fear and contempt, especially with so many questions about the gunman, his motives, and the gathered evidence left to be answered.
Instead, consolation must come from each other.
As those both on and off the Hill struggle to regain some sense of normalcy, we as a nation have all been comforted by countless acts of human kindness.
Partisanship and politics, for the most part, have been replaced with genuine compassion and expressions of concern. Hushed conversations dominated with questions of “how are you holding up?” or “how are you doing?,” backed with bipartisan handshakes, hugs and claps on the back still echo throughout Parliament’s halls.
Down the street, the mountain of flowers at the War Memorial — lilies, red and white carnations, roses and daisies, most accompanied with handwritten sympathy notes dotted with tear stains — serve as a sweet smelling reminder of this country’s pain.
Hundreds have gathered there in the days since, many dressed in Canada sweaters, hats and mitts and other Canadiana. The heavy silence is broken only by a child’s cries and weighted with a collective determination to move forward.
United in grief, our resolve remains: Canada has not lost its innocence.
The country, and its people, simply won’t let it.
