MARYSVILLE, Wash. -- Seven months have now passed since the shooting at Marysville Pilchuck High School and the school continues its work toward recovery.
A person involved in that process has some very personal ties to the children of Marysville.
There is nothing more important to Mary Schoenfeldt than family, and hers is a big one.
"Four kids, nine grandkids and currently seven great-grands, but I have three more that are due in the next three months," said Schoenfeldt.
She knows better than most what it truly means to value your loved ones, because she has seen first-hand the aftermath of so many family disasters.
"It's never pretty," she said.
Columbine. Sandyhook, even Superstorm Sandy - just three of the American horror stories she has watched unfold from inside the police lines.
"You can feel the pain and the grief."
Schoenfeldt is one of the world's leading authorities on what to do when a school shooting comes to your community. She literally wrote the book on it. A couple of them, in fact.
Her work is now part of the protocol at schools in all 50 states and a dozen foreign countries. It's brutal work and she does it on a volunteer basis, but it does take a toll.
When responding to the Sandyhook massacre, Schoenfeldt had family members text her pictures of her great grandchildren to remind her that they were ok. She recalls going straight from Columbine High School to a family camping trip in Eastern Washington, which proved to be the best therapy of all.
"And I crawled into my tent at 2:00 in the morning, got up in the morning and went out and sat in a lawn chair. My two-year-old granddaughter came out of her tent, climbed up in my lap and just wanted oatmeal. She didn't care where I'd been, who I was, how tired I was. She just wanted the oatmeal because that's what grandma did when we camped," said Schoenfeldt.
It's that calm, caring grandmotherly demeanor that many say makes Schoenfeldt so good at what she does. And "what she does" is help people deal with disasters. She spent eight years with Everett's Office of Emergency Management. That's where she was on October 24 of last year, when Jaylen Fryberg opened fire at Marysville-Pilchuck High School, killing four students and himself.
"It's my hometown," said Schoenfeldt.
Schoenfeldt got the call that the tragedies that she has followed across the country for the past 15 years had followed her home.
"The heart level says, 'It can't be. This wouldn't happen to us.' I go into other communities and say oh yes it can. And here it is," she said.
There it was, in her very own district where her very own grandson attends school. Schoenfeldt's first instinct was to contact her grandson at Marysville's Getchell High.
"So, I texted Jesse. I said, 'Jess, I'm sure you're fine but please reassure grandma,'" she said.
Schoenfeldt is now the director of recovery at MPHS. Her focus is stabilizing the school and guiding the district through its journey back to normalcy.
"It's the job that no school district ever wants to fill," she said.
But Schoenfeldt is always a grandmother first. The first thing she tells parents when arriving at a school shooting scene is that she wishes she could wave this magic wand given to her by her mother, and make everything better.
"This is what I wish I could do for you, but since I can't I'm going to just give you some thought and see what we can do together."
And she is seeing some magic at work at Pilchuck. While the cafeteria where the shooting happened remains closed, students are opening up. The kids are progressing well. She's even seeing a newfound compassion in the student body.
"And I had one young lady say if she saw someone crying in the hallway, I'll walk up to them, now. Before the 24th of October, if that wasn't my friend, I probably would've walked by," said Schoenfeldt.
It's exactly what she has been hoping for. And as the school year ends, so does Schoenfeldt's time with the district. Her work here done, she's walking away, knowing the students are on the right path.
Schoenfeldt's extended family is a bit bigger after her work at MPHS, and because of that it will be hard to say goodbye. But like any good grandmother, she knows she has to.
"It's like being a grandma and teaching someone to walk. You fall down, you get up, but I'm not going to hold onto your hands forever as you keep going," she said.
