Post by Ken Nagele on Mar 14, 2005 18:02:49 GMT -8
Greetings,
Our hearts go out to the victims and their family members, and to the church members of the recent LCG tragedy. One never knows when our lives may be cut short. Below is an article on the unfortunate event.
Ken Nagele
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Woman recounts explosion of anger at service
By MEGAN TWOHEY
mtwohey@journalsentinel.com
Posted: March 13, 2005
Brookfield Hotel Shooting
Ella Frazier liked Terry Ratzmann even though the New Berlin man had a strange sense of humor that could rub members of their church the wrong way.
It was pandemonium. I looked back and saw the gun and the black sunglasses. The gunshots kept exploding.
Untangling a tragedy: Police focus on shooter's computer files, job and anger over sermon
22 shots; one minute of terror: Woman recounts explosion of anger at service
Living Church of God: Violence is opposite of teachings, founder says
Faith transcends buildings: Meetings in rented spaces not uncommon
Gunman: Ratzmann called smart but angry
Memorials: Carpenter finds personal mission amid tragedies
Editorial: A time to mourn
An eyewitness recollection of the scene
The two shared a love of plants and an interest in Australia, a country both had visited. Over time, they came to sit together at the Saturday services of the Living Church of God. Ratzmann would lean over and make comments about the sermons to Ella and her husband, Earnest.
But Ratzmann was in no mood to chat early Saturday afternoon when he crossed paths with Earnest in a hallway of the Sheraton hotel in Brookfield, where the services were held.
Ratzmann was wearing black sunglasses. When Earnest said hello, Ratzmann grunted and brushed past him. He didn't take a seat near the Fraziers when the service began. He didn't take any seat.
Instead, Ratzmann walked in 20 minutes late, stood in the back of room and began firing a 9mm handgun.
"It was pandemonium," said Ella, 61, who dropped to the floor when she realized what was happening. "I looked back and saw the gun and the black sunglasses. The gunshots kept exploding."
A minute later, silence. After firing 21 rounds at others, Ratzmann had turned the gun on himself.
Twenty-four hours later, Ella was still trying to piece together details of the bloody scene. They were so gruesome, she had become convinced an evil power was at work in the Brookfield hotel.
"It was like spirits got ahold of him," Ella said as she sat in her modest upstairs apartment, gazing out her living room window at her quiet Milwaukee neighborhood.
Ella knew that Ratzmann had been struggling with bouts of unemployment over the last couple of years. She was among those who took note when Ratzmann disappeared before the end of a taped sermon two weeks ago that focused on how bad fortune befalls those who make ungodly choices, even though he was expected to give the closing prayer. She also found it strange when Ratzmann, who attended services conscientiously, didn't show up last week.
Still, Ella said she never expected that Ratzmann would turn violent. She certainly didn't expect him to unleash his anger on members of his own church.
Saturday's service began at 12:30 p.m. According to Ella, this is what happened next:
The 50 to 60 members of the church who had shown up for the service sang three songs and recited a prayer.
Then Glenn Diekmeier, a member, took to the lectern to deliver a sermonette. It was about Jonah ending up in the belly of the whale.
Soon after the sermonette began, gunshots exploded in rapid succession. Ella and Earnest, 59, were sitting in the third row.
When she turned around, she saw the gun and sunglasses. She knew it was Ratzmann.
The couple crawled under their seats as screams erupted from the congregation.
From the glimpse she got of Ratzmann, Ella assumed he was aiming to kill the pastor, Randy Gregory, and his wife, Marjean, and their son James. The family was sitting in last row, essentially right in front of Ratzmann.
But Ella sensed that he wanted to kill others as well.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to kill us all," Ella said.
Ella was still on the ground when the gunfire stopped and someone near her said: "It's over. Terry shot himself."
Ella surveyed the scene from where she lay. "I could see blood everywhere," she said.
Ratzmann was slumped on the floor in the back of the meeting room.
Earnest rose and headed toward the back. Randy Gregory and his son James were dead. But Marjean was still alive. A bullet had entered her shoulder and had come through her breast. She was crying for help.
"She wanted water," Ella said.
Earnest kneeled down and removed the bullet from Marjean's bra and gave her eyeglasses to a fellow church member.
When he stood up, he was covered in blood.
Chandra Frazier, Earnest and Ella's daughter, had been sitting in front of the Gregorys, along with Gerald Miller and a woman named Dorothy.
Miller had been shot but had still been able to throw his body in front of Dorothy to protect her. He then had walked down the center aisle toward the front of the room. He didn't make it far. When Ella looked up, she saw Miller in the middle of the aisle, in a pool of blood.
Chandra ran to the front of the room, where she found Ella on the floor.
"She was screaming: 'Where's Daddy? Where's Daddy?' " Ella said. "I pulled her down, then she pulled me up. We went back and forth like that. It was horrible."
When the police showed up, they ushered the survivors out the room's front door and into a separate room. Later the group was divided into three rooms.
Everyone was dazed. A young boy who looked to be around 11 or 12 was shaking. He told Ella a bullet had whizzed by his cheek.
"In the first room, someone kept shouting 'Close the door, close the door,' " Ella said. "People were afraid there was going to be more shooting."
For several hours, the survivors shared their stories with the police. In the late afternoon, they were allowed to leave.
Back home Sunday, Ella was clinging to hope that the congregation would live on in spite of the tragedy.
"I'm sure we'll continue," Ella said. "But not in that room. We'll never go back to that room."
Our hearts go out to the victims and their family members, and to the church members of the recent LCG tragedy. One never knows when our lives may be cut short. Below is an article on the unfortunate event.
Ken Nagele
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Woman recounts explosion of anger at service
By MEGAN TWOHEY
mtwohey@journalsentinel.com
Posted: March 13, 2005
Brookfield Hotel Shooting
Ella Frazier liked Terry Ratzmann even though the New Berlin man had a strange sense of humor that could rub members of their church the wrong way.
It was pandemonium. I looked back and saw the gun and the black sunglasses. The gunshots kept exploding.
Untangling a tragedy: Police focus on shooter's computer files, job and anger over sermon
22 shots; one minute of terror: Woman recounts explosion of anger at service
Living Church of God: Violence is opposite of teachings, founder says
Faith transcends buildings: Meetings in rented spaces not uncommon
Gunman: Ratzmann called smart but angry
Memorials: Carpenter finds personal mission amid tragedies
Editorial: A time to mourn
An eyewitness recollection of the scene
The two shared a love of plants and an interest in Australia, a country both had visited. Over time, they came to sit together at the Saturday services of the Living Church of God. Ratzmann would lean over and make comments about the sermons to Ella and her husband, Earnest.
But Ratzmann was in no mood to chat early Saturday afternoon when he crossed paths with Earnest in a hallway of the Sheraton hotel in Brookfield, where the services were held.
Ratzmann was wearing black sunglasses. When Earnest said hello, Ratzmann grunted and brushed past him. He didn't take a seat near the Fraziers when the service began. He didn't take any seat.
Instead, Ratzmann walked in 20 minutes late, stood in the back of room and began firing a 9mm handgun.
"It was pandemonium," said Ella, 61, who dropped to the floor when she realized what was happening. "I looked back and saw the gun and the black sunglasses. The gunshots kept exploding."
A minute later, silence. After firing 21 rounds at others, Ratzmann had turned the gun on himself.
Twenty-four hours later, Ella was still trying to piece together details of the bloody scene. They were so gruesome, she had become convinced an evil power was at work in the Brookfield hotel.
"It was like spirits got ahold of him," Ella said as she sat in her modest upstairs apartment, gazing out her living room window at her quiet Milwaukee neighborhood.
Ella knew that Ratzmann had been struggling with bouts of unemployment over the last couple of years. She was among those who took note when Ratzmann disappeared before the end of a taped sermon two weeks ago that focused on how bad fortune befalls those who make ungodly choices, even though he was expected to give the closing prayer. She also found it strange when Ratzmann, who attended services conscientiously, didn't show up last week.
Still, Ella said she never expected that Ratzmann would turn violent. She certainly didn't expect him to unleash his anger on members of his own church.
Saturday's service began at 12:30 p.m. According to Ella, this is what happened next:
The 50 to 60 members of the church who had shown up for the service sang three songs and recited a prayer.
Then Glenn Diekmeier, a member, took to the lectern to deliver a sermonette. It was about Jonah ending up in the belly of the whale.
Soon after the sermonette began, gunshots exploded in rapid succession. Ella and Earnest, 59, were sitting in the third row.
When she turned around, she saw the gun and sunglasses. She knew it was Ratzmann.
The couple crawled under their seats as screams erupted from the congregation.
From the glimpse she got of Ratzmann, Ella assumed he was aiming to kill the pastor, Randy Gregory, and his wife, Marjean, and their son James. The family was sitting in last row, essentially right in front of Ratzmann.
But Ella sensed that he wanted to kill others as well.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to kill us all," Ella said.
Ella was still on the ground when the gunfire stopped and someone near her said: "It's over. Terry shot himself."
Ella surveyed the scene from where she lay. "I could see blood everywhere," she said.
Ratzmann was slumped on the floor in the back of the meeting room.
Earnest rose and headed toward the back. Randy Gregory and his son James were dead. But Marjean was still alive. A bullet had entered her shoulder and had come through her breast. She was crying for help.
"She wanted water," Ella said.
Earnest kneeled down and removed the bullet from Marjean's bra and gave her eyeglasses to a fellow church member.
When he stood up, he was covered in blood.
Chandra Frazier, Earnest and Ella's daughter, had been sitting in front of the Gregorys, along with Gerald Miller and a woman named Dorothy.
Miller had been shot but had still been able to throw his body in front of Dorothy to protect her. He then had walked down the center aisle toward the front of the room. He didn't make it far. When Ella looked up, she saw Miller in the middle of the aisle, in a pool of blood.
Chandra ran to the front of the room, where she found Ella on the floor.
"She was screaming: 'Where's Daddy? Where's Daddy?' " Ella said. "I pulled her down, then she pulled me up. We went back and forth like that. It was horrible."
When the police showed up, they ushered the survivors out the room's front door and into a separate room. Later the group was divided into three rooms.
Everyone was dazed. A young boy who looked to be around 11 or 12 was shaking. He told Ella a bullet had whizzed by his cheek.
"In the first room, someone kept shouting 'Close the door, close the door,' " Ella said. "People were afraid there was going to be more shooting."
For several hours, the survivors shared their stories with the police. In the late afternoon, they were allowed to leave.
Back home Sunday, Ella was clinging to hope that the congregation would live on in spite of the tragedy.
"I'm sure we'll continue," Ella said. "But not in that room. We'll never go back to that room."