Hundreds of people showed up Sunday for a memorial to a 15-year-old Wisconsin boy who held his social studies class hostage before shooting himself last week, setting aside the terrifying standoff to remember him as a quiet, helpful leader who loved the outdoors.
MENOMINEE, Mich. — Hundreds of people showed up Sunday for a memorial to a 15-year-old Wisconsin boy who held his social studies class hostage before shooting himself last week, setting aside the terrifying standoff to remember him as a quiet, helpful leader who loved the outdoors.
Sam Hengel's family held the gathering in a school auditorium in Menominee, Mich., because they expected so many supporters. Menominee lies just across the Menominee River from Marinette, Wis., where Hengel held 26 classmates and his teacher at gunpoint for nearly six hours.
Barb Post of Marinette, Wis., said she didn't know Hengel's family but attended anyway to show support.
"You care about the people and the family, and you understand it could happen to anybody," Post said.
Why Hengel took his class hostage remains a mystery. Other students and his teacher have said he was well-liked and had many friends.
The standoff Dec. 29 at Marinette High School began when Hengel returned to his sixth-hour Western Civilization class from a bathroom break. He had two semi-automatic pistols and a backpack jammed with more than 200 rounds of ammunition and a pair of knives.
Students and police said he immediately fired three shots, blasting a hole in a wall and tearing apart a film projector. Students talked to him about everything from hunting and fishing to his favorite movies in an attempt to keep him calm.
No one else in the school apparently recognized the sound of the shots as gunfire, and Hengel told the teacher to post a note on the door telling seventh-period students to report to the library. As a result, no one realized the class was in danger until about a half-hour after school ended, when a man came to the school office looking for his daughter.
Principal Corry Lambie determined the last class the girl attended was Western Civilization and went to the room to find the door locked. When Lambie unlocked the door, Hengel pointed his gun at him and told him to leave. Hengel allowed the girl to go with Lambie.
The standoff dragged on for four more hours, with teacher Valerie Burd acting as a go-between for Hengel and police.
A SWAT team stormed the room after Hengel fired three shots at about 8 p.m., destroying the classroom phone and hitting a computer. Hengel shot himself as officers reached him. He died the next morning.
Flurries fell under an overcast sky Sunday afternoon, adding to a feeling of gloom. The line to greet the teen's parents and two younger brothers stretched out of the auditorium and into the lobby, where mourners gazed at collages of photos depicting Hengel as a small child, holding a string of fish and paddling along on a canoe trip with his family.
On a table was a message board. Hengel's brother, Ben, had written "I will always miss you, brother" on it. Next to the board were pin-on buttons emblazoned with Hengel's face and take-home cards listing symptoms that might indicate suicidal thoughts.
Hengel's family stood in front of the auditorium's stage and hugged one well-wisher after another for more than two hours. They had set up a tent, a canoe and paddle and a mock campfire on the stage. They hung up Hengel's Boy Scout and tae kwon do uniforms and his replica Green Bay Packers jersey with linebacker A.J. Hawk's No. 50 on the front next to the stage.
A slide show showing Hengel hiking in the woods, canoeing and riding horses with his family played before the ceremony started. Many of the photos featured him with his father, Jon.
The Rev. Nicholas Johannes told the crowd he wondered why Hengel did it as he held the boy's hand in the hospital, but said he'll never know. Hengel was a good person and God would not judge him on one act, Johannes promised.
People's lives revolve around work so much they don't listen or help each other anymore, he said. "This is not about Sam's sin. This is about the world's sin. Something has gone terribly wrong," he said. "We need to say 'I love you' and mean the words."
Keith Schroeder, Hengel's scoutmaster, said he had looked forward to seeing how Hengel would turn out as a man, because he was such a compassionate youth and always had a smile on his face. He said Hengel would be any Scout's partner and made the best French toast in the troop.