Recently, I discussed how “fake news” is not new. Well, guess what? Neither is the media’s tradition of sensationalizing tragedies and turning criminals into celebrities. Case in point: The names Dylan Klebold, Eric Harris, Adam Lamza and Eliot Rodger are much easier to find in a Google search than the name of a true hero, who this week helped avert an attack similar to the 1999 Columbine High School shootings. For purposes of this blog, I’m going to refer to this hero as “Dad.” You see, “Dad” is a father from Frederick County, Maryland, who put aside most parents’ natural instinct to be liked by their children. “Dad” risked social fallout, perhaps irreversibly changing the course of his own life, by outing himself as a bad parent who raised a monster.
But instead of reading details and seeing pictures of “Dad” online, you’re more likely to notice the resurgent fame of the jackhat who posted a video of himself shooting his daughter’s laptop computer with a .45 pistol over a social media post. Or stories of the Daisy-Dukes-wearing dad who attempted to embarrass his scantily-clad daughter by mocking her on social media. You may not remember those men’s names, but their faces, viral videos and elementary antics are etched in the public’s memory. And you’ll not likely find much about the truly courageous “Dad.” You don’t know his name yet? Neither do I, but I’d like to share what I know about him:
“Dad,” whose 18-year old daughter, Nichole Cevario, attends Catoctin High School, went where few parents would dare. He “invaded her privacy” and read her diary. Now I don’t know Nichole, but I know teenagers. I can guess that she neither gave him permission nor would have been gracious or loving toward her father if she knew he wanted to commit this ultimate act of parental betrayal. I also don’t know what prompted “Dad” to read his daughter’s private writings. But in doing so, he found details about Nichole’s carefully constructed plot to carry out an attack on her high school, scheduled for April 5, 2017. As if risking his teen daughter’s wrath was not dangerous enough, “Dad” then did the truly heroic – he called the police on his own daughter. When the police investigated, they discovered Nichole had amassed a stockpile of materials for constructing pipe bombs plus other explosives, a shotgun and detail on the steps she was taking to carry out an attack. Her diary entries included preplanning activities, a study of school authorities’ coming and goings, and information on exits, entrances and school security.
Learning of “Dad’s” bravery, I recall how the media sensationalized the young men who shot up Columbine High School. Many of us remember the blame and shame we felt for the young men’s parents. We called them ostriches. We blamed them for ignoring signs. We watched the nightly news circuit tear apart their lives, examining what they “should have known” and what steps – if any—were taken to protect the community from their “monster” children.
At some point after the Columbine shootings, when copycat school shootings began occurring more regularly, we heard noise about not sensationalizing the offenders. For a while, instead of continuing to publicize the shooters, the media purportedly highlighted the casualties. Trouble is, the public’s appetite for gore was not satiated. We tell ourselves that we are not addicted to morbid details. In fact, many of us – I included – convince ourselves that we look because we are seeking clues about our own worlds. Could we be living next door to the next school shooter? Is one of their mothers a teacher at our child’s elementary school? If we were siblings of one of them, would we have noticed the warning signs and spoken up? What if I were their mother? Would I know and would I be willing to do what “Dad” did this week?
Fact is, I’m not sure I’d be willing to do what “Dad” did. And this is precisely what makes “Dad” a hero.
So, I wonder. Where is the media attention today on “Dad” – clearly the most courageous father off all time? After “Dad” spied on his daughter and informed authorities, the police investigated, finding a genuine threat. Nichole was taken initially to a hospital for a mental health evaluation before she was arrested and charged with possession of explosives, intent to create destruction, and other charges.
There are no reports yet as to the exact catalyst behind “Dad’s” concerns or his compelling need to invade her privacy. Did he suspect this honor student and all around “normal girl” was up to something dangerous? Was she acting out on social media? Cutting classes? Was he worried about her mental health, fearful that she was depressed or suicidal? We don’t yet know why he was so willing to risk his daughter’s future, not to mention his family’s social standing, by calling the police. He may have even tried to convince himself it was implausible for his little girl to carry out such a calculated, horrendous plan. By anyone’s best guess, there was no reason to believe she was anything but a typical, dramatic teen, right? We don’t know if he spoke to Nichole before he called authorities. But somehow his overwhelming duty to protect the community from harm outweighed any denial or doubts about his daughter’s ability to carry out the plans he found.
What does “Dad” have inside him that separates from parents who bury their heads in the sand and hope their gut feelings are wrong? We may never know. But we should know this: “Dad” is a hero. He is what a parent should be. No, he’s not famous. He didn’t videotape his antics and won’t get celebrity spots on late-night shows. The only way we’d know more about “Dad” is if he hadn’t spoken up and Nichole had been able to carry out the attack plans. Then the public would blame “Dad” for bad parenting. Others would pass in judgment, firm in their knowledge that they would have seen warning signs about their daughter and acted differently.
Fortunately, those parents won’t get the chance. “Dad” showed us what responsible parenting looks like. I feel for him. He must be in such pain now. But I am grateful. Thank you, “Dad.” I hope there are many other parents out there just like you. I truly hope that you, Nichole and your family members get the help you need.
