Before we stood, I told him he had broken our trust. We would be watching him more closely, and his activities would be restricted. He complained it wasn’t fair for us to punish him on top of the Diversion program; weren’t the legal consequences enough? But his actions had left us no choice. I also said I thought he should see a professional counselor. He said he absolutely did not want to do that. When I told him we would seek help if it was in his best interest, he said definitively, “I do not need counseling. I’ll show you I don’t.”
I was grateful Dylan could get on with his life without going to jail. Years after his death, though, I visited a secure treatment program for juvenile offenders, the type of place Dylan would likely have been sent to, and learned that what I had feared so much would almost certainly have been better for Dylan than returning to school, especially if the culture at Columbine High School was as toxic for him as we believe it was.
The administrator told me, “We’re into saving kids, not punishing them.” He described the supports that would have been available to Dylan, such as professionals who specialized in dealing with mood disorders and PTSD, common in kids who have been bullied. The multidisciplinary team would almost certainly have diagnosed his depression, as well as any other brain health disorders he might have been living with. The staff worked closely with the offender’s parents. There was even a computer training facility there.
We never know what lessons are in store for us, especially when our prayers are answered and events seem to turn out the way we want. At the time, we were grateful he’d qualified for Diversion. But I can’t help wondering if sending Dylan to a juvenile detention facility would have saved his life, and the lives of everyone he took with him.
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It took two months for the Diversion program to begin. In the meantime, Tom and I worked together to tighten the reins at home. We created a curfew schedule, limited Dylan’s social activities, took away his computer keyboard, and restricted his driving privileges. We searched his room regularly, and told him he could not spend any free time with Eric. He was expected to spend time with us, and to be cooperative when he did. Work and his participation in plays at the school were constructive influences, and he would continue to be able to do those things.
Dylan was relieved when the rules were spelled out for him, and accepted our conditions willingly, but it was still a difficult time. He seemed withdrawn, and was quick to anger when we made any demands on him.
His relationship with the outside world didn’t seem to be much better. Roughly a week after the theft, Dylan got a job at a grocery store. He disliked the job itself and hated wearing a flowered shirt as part of his uniform. His attitude was terrible, and his time there ended quickly. Next, he got a speeding ticket. Not long after, he ran a red light on his way home from renting a video, and got a ticket from the same officer who’d questioned him on the night of his arrest.
After the ticket, Tom and I warned him again that he needed to get his act together. Any more mistakes, and the consequences for his future could be positively disastrous. Felons can’t vote or serve on a jury; he’d be disenfranchised. And who would want to hire him?
A month or so after the arrest, I called the Harrises to touch base. We all wanted what was best for our children, and I thought the two families should be in contact to coordinate the consequences we had meted out. Mrs. Harris and I talked about the advantages and disadvantages of keeping the two boys apart. She told me about Eric’s angry outbursts, and said they planned to find professional help for him immediately. I told her we were trying to determine whether Dylan needed to see a therapist or not.
I felt strongly the boys should be separated, but Mrs. Harris did not want to remove the central friendship in her son’s life at a time of crisis. I understood, but felt Dylan needed some distance. We agreed to keep them apart for a while, at least.
There were good times as well as bad. One night, Byron called after capriciously quitting another job. I was so discouraged with both of my sons, I did not know what to do. After Tom had gone to bed, Dylan sought me out. He listened carefully and quietly to my worries about Byron and made a few suggestions while supporting the way I’d handled the call. When I was done venting, he did his best to cheer me up. That night, I felt grateful he had not been sent to jail.
During that interim period, he and a friend started a fantasy baseball league. The activity seemed wholesome and I liked the boy he started it with. Eric did not participate. Dylan also did the sound for a production of The Music Man, which we attended at the end of February. There’s nothing like a school play to make parents feel proud, and we certainly felt proud of Dylan that night.
Still, we were relieved when the Diversion program finally started in March. During the intake process, Dylan was asked to select problems pertaining to him from a long list. Eric checked many of these, including anger, suicidal thoughts, and homicidal thoughts, but Dylan marked only two: finances and jobs.
The intake included an extensive assessment of our family. I stated that Dylan sometimes seemed “angry or sullen” and his behaviors were at times “disrespectful and intolerant of others.” That certainly was my feeling about him that year, especially after the arrest. He never raised his voice, swore in our presence, or talked back, but I could hear disrespect in his voice sometimes when he talked about others. It was the worst thing, in my experience, that could be said about Dylan.
Later, these comments would be seen as incontrovertible evidence that we ignored warning signs and set the stage for violence by tolerating belligerence. At the time, though, I was simply eager for the counselors to know the worst about him, so the experts handling his case would be able to help him if he needed it.
When the counselors questioned Dylan, he admitted to using marijuana a couple of times. This surprised us, so Tom followed up with questions when we got home. Dylan didn’t want to say where he’d gotten the drugs, but eventually confessed that the pot had belonged to his brother. Tom confronted Byron, and warned him that if he brought illegal drugs onto our property again, he’d turn Byron over to the police himself.
Juvenile records are usually sealed, but after the tragedy Dylan’s Diversion reports were released. They stated that Tom and I had “kicked” our older son out of the house for using drugs. That brought me up short. The decision for him to leave home had been Byron’s, made in consultation with a family counselor, and the move itself had been completely amicable. Plus, Byron was still very much in our lives after he moved out; we saw him for dinner at least once or twice a week. In the Diversion interview, Dylan said he loved his brother but that marijuana use was “a waste of time and money.”
He claimed to have used alcohol “a couple of times,” although his journals would reveal he was self-medicating heavily. After he died, I learned that his nickname, on the Internet and among some of his friends, was VoDKa, the capitalized D and K a play on his initials.
Dylan was upset to discover that Tom had confronted Byron about the pot, and Tom explained he’d do anything to keep his boys safe. After the tragedy, though, Tom blamed himself for Dylan’s secret life and worried he’d unwittingly damaged their relationship by violating Dylan’s trust. Had Dylan held back from telling us he was scared of Eric because he knew his father would talk to the Harrises? And of course Tom would have, if he’d had any inkling of the lethal dynamic between the two boys.
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Years after the tragedy, I picked up a parenting magazine in a waiting room featuring an “ethical parenting” quiz. I got all ten questions “right” except for “Would you read your child’s private journal?” The correct answer, according to the parenting magazine, was “no.” I know it would have been my answer too, when Dylan was alive, but it would not be my answer now.