White crosses and American flags honor the Fort Hood dead and wounded outside Killeen's Central Christian Church (Jim Swift/KXAN)
Updated: Tuesday, 10 Nov 2009, 11:12 PM CST
Published : Tuesday, 10 Nov 2009, 8:00 PM CST
KILLEEN, Texas (KXAN) - Nidal Hasan's alleged rampage at Fort Hood last week, sadly, was not the first time this military community has suffered such a fate.
On Oct. 16, 1991, George Hennard smashed his pickup truck into the front window of the Luby's Cafeteria on U.S. 190 in Killeen, and then opened fire in the crowded restaurant. It would be an event the community would never forget.
Before he killed himself after being wounded by police, Hennard had shot and killed 23 people and wounded 20 more. At the time of his death, Hennard still had two automatic clips on him, which could have multiplied the casualties in the incident. It was a shooting scene unmatched until the Virginia Tech rampage in 2007.
When KXAN visited Killeen only a month later, it was time to observe the Thanksgiving holiday, and some survivors already were telling reporters they were healing physically and emotionally. They said they had much to be thankful for.
This time, it's still way too early for that. Random interviews with people on the street from one end of Killeen to the other reveal a deep and abiding pain.
"You can see it in the restaurants, you know," said business owner Joe Arce. "There's very little activity, very little traffic and even right here, Wal-Mart is basically pretty much empty; you can see the parking lot right there, right now."
An employee at a Killeen Subway sandwich shop backed Arce up on that. Gwynne Miller and her coworkers are actually seeing their paychecks impacted by the tragedy.
"It's just not enough people coming in for sandwiches, you know," she said. "We told them (the employees) to clock out early; like I had to go home early."
It seems there is a different way of suffering for every person in town.
"This morning I know that I heard sirens going by," said attorney Andrea Sheinbein. "I don't know if they were ambulances or police cars, fire engines or what, but I kind of froze up, 'Oh no, what's happening again?'"
Standing beside the flag at half-staff outside her downtown law office, Sheinbein goes on: "I think there's a lot of outrage as to how this could have happened, how this could have slipped through the cracks."
Nearby, Louis Burnett, a tile setter by trade, fears the worst: "Truthfully, I think we're going to have a little more, a little more racism, a little more racism than we did before. You know, it happens at times like this. You just get, you get leery of certain people that look a certain type of way."
Not everyone thinks that will happen though. Outside Central Christian Church, 13 white crosses memorialize the dead. Another smaller cross bears witness to the death of a fetus in one of the victims. Behind the crosses, thirty American flags pay tribute to the wounded, including Nidal Malik Hasan, the suspect in the shootings. That was church elder Paul Butler's idea.
"He was a wounded, so there's some compassion there for him, as well as the others," Butler said. "I don't expect a big backlash. I think as terrible as it was, and as horrible, as much hurting as is going on now, I really feel like the healing process has probably already started."
"We don't have a choice" added John Hicks, the owner of a small travel agency who often volunteers at the Fort during deployment and welcome home ceremonies for the troops. "It's only going to make this great community here stronger."
Arce, the owner of a water softening company, was pleasantly surprised by what he's seen so far.
"I was impressed and at awe that the Islamic community has gotten together in support of (the victims) and requesting donations," he said.
And for those who were there in 1991, the Luby's tragedy calls out across the decades.
"Everyone pulls together," said Jami Lovvorn, who owns a flower shop in Killeen. "I was little when Luby's happened, but it happened then, you know; everyone pulls together and I know we can do that again."
Retired Army Sergeant Major Loren Stroup was also here then.
"I'm concerned, but we'll heal," said Stroup. "We healed from the Luby's massacre and we'll heal from this one."