How do you deal with loss? How do you process when your whole world has been ripped from you? These are my raw thoughts on the Allen Premium Outlets shooting as a former outlet worker. 

I worked at the Allen Premium Outlets for four years. When the shooting happened, I was in Germany. My dad texted me about the news before I was going to bed. I almost felt guilty for the fear that gripped my heart as I worried about the safety of my friends and family at that moment. Here I am, 5,000 miles away in the safety of another country where I don’t have to pass my time preoccupied with the threat of gun violence every day. 

This is a beautiful reality that I have attained by marrying a German citizen. I have the freedom to walk down the street and not have to worry about getting shot. The utter lack of guns for personal use in Germany means that I don’t have to fear for my life in a crowded cinema. I don’t have to be scared when somebody carries a bulky bag, or when someone reaches into their pocket suddenly, or when I am in a crowded cinema and there is a hooded figure in the back.

To many Europeans, gun violence in America is a running joke. Maybe that’s not fair, but recently, those jokes are heard loudly and they hit hard. Guns aren’t an arbitrary threat or the cartoon drawing in the hand of a caricature; they are a grim reality that pose a risk to Americans each and every day. Unfortunately, I don’t know enough about the topic to provide any solutions at the moment. So, alternatively, here are some of my thoughts about what it was like to work at the outlets in the wake of the recent shooting. 

I was only supposed to work at the outlets the summer before my senior year of college as a part-time job, but I stayed on throughout the year even though I lived 45 minutes away and they were plenty of other clothing stores in between. I then stayed on for three years throughout my career because I wanted to work with the people there. Maybe it sounds strange, but the people who work there would understand; working in that store felt like a second home. My coworkers always had my back. They took care of me through my low moments, and I kept coming back to the store when I felt like I had nowhere else to go. 

I thought the worst day at the Allen Outlets would be that massive hail storm that ruined all of our cars. I’m sure everyone there can remember that day when the sky went from blue to mottled purple before hail pounded down on our roofs with unrelenting fists for thirty minutes. I hid in the back of the store and covered my ears before I came out to help as the ceiling broke and we ran around in a frenzy, trying to mitigate the damage. But that’s what the people who work at the outlets are like, and that’s why my mom drove over to help us- they are people who are always there to help you, people who try to mitigate the damage even when you’re hiding. At least, these are the people I know.

Now there is the grim reality that some feet away, innocent people had their lives torn from them on a day that should have been filled with shopping and family bonding or a simple Saturday at work or anything that didn’t conclude in the senseless loss of life. Not only did my former coworkers have to spend their Saturday shift hiding and fearing for their lives as the lives of others were stolen right outside their doors, but these shoppers and workers had their lives robbed from them when they were just trying to enjoy them or simply earn a paycheck. 

Human nature can be really ugly. I know that all too well. However, I also met many exceptional shoppers over the years in addition to my former coworkers. Some people traveled to the outlets from as far as Australia to go shopping. Others wanted to escape for a few hours through a little retail therapy and were eager to chat or have someone offer advice. And then there were the budding professionals who wanted to upgrade their wardrobes in the hopes of achieving their dream careers, as well as people who had just earned their dream job and were treating themselves. There were husbands and wives who always went shopping together and even sons and mothers who shopped side-by-side into adulthood. 

At the outlets, there are all kinds of people from all around the world who have stories to tell, moments of human connection to give, and ones that were already given. Years later and 5,000 miles removed, I can still remember many of these interactions, as I live in a country where people do not speak my mother tongue and where small talk is not valued. I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like for these people to have walked outside and had their lives taken from them right when they were in the middle of living. The unfairness of it all is too much to stomach.  

I’m so lucky that my friends and family were not hurt in the shooting. But I feel for the people who experienced a much more grim reality that day, especially the little boy who lost both of his parents and his brother. The loss of one’s entire family in a single day is simply unfathomable and not a topic I can speak upon. 

Like so many other Americans, I just can’t understand why this is happening. All I can say is that after living in Germany, this isn’t a reality everywhere. It simply isn’t. I do not live every day in fear of gun violence, because this does not happen where I live. But this is happening to my friends and my family in my home in my country and like so many other people, this breaks my heart.

What I can say about the outlets as a whole is that I know they will soon reopen and that the survivors will rebuild. And I hope that they never have to know the violence of steel and the fear of that day ever again. But that is not something that I can promise. So I am writing this here to say thank you to the people who gave me a second home when I needed one. I wish I could return the safety that you gave to me.