By Christine Byers
The St. Louis Post-Dispatch
MAPLEWOOD, Mo. — For Andy Neff, it’s survivor’s guilt.
“Because I came home,” he said.
For Tim Wisely, it’s the regret of fleeing. “I thought I was a coward.”
For Mike Chellis, it’s a never-ending string of “what ifs": “What could I have done better?”
These thoughts and feelings fester with members of the Maplewood Fire Department’s B crew, survivors of a sniper attack that left their friend and colleague Ryan Hummert dead and two police officers injured a year ago today.
Neff, Chellis and Wisely said they didn’t realize how profoundly the experience had changed them until their friends, children and spouses told them so. Neff and Chellis found themselves drinking more. Neff said his temper grew shorter at home and with co-workers. All became more withdrawn. All suffered from nightmares.
“Sometimes I just get so angry because it’s changed my whole world,” Neff said. “I go to church on Sundays, and part of the Catholic religion says you’re supposed to forgive people. I can’t forgive that guy yet for what he’s done to my life.”
His first fire
Around 5 a.m. on July 21, 2008, the B crew — Hummert, Chellis, Wisely, Neff and Bill Appel — sprang awake. A car was on fire in the 7400 block of Zephyr Avenue.
At the scene, Wisely handed Hummert the hose — it was his first real fire. Then an explosion erupted. They all hit the ground. Hummert fell into Wisely.
Wisely looked at Hummert and saw a massive head injury. He applied pressure to the wound. Neff ran to get medical gear. Hummert already was gone.
Another explosion felled Maplewood police officer Adam Fite. Neff left his comrades tending to Hummert and headed for Fite.
More explosions. A bullet hit Maplewood police Sgt. Mike Martin in the arm.
Chellis and Appel took cover behind the firetruck; Wisely refused to leave Hummert until Chellis ripped him away.
The three hid behind their pumper. An officer yelled to them to run. Wisely did.
A tactical team removed Chellis and Appel after almost 90 minutes. Six hours later, the alleged gunman, Mark Knobbe, set his house on fire and killed himself.
Maplewood firefighters Chris McCracken, Spencer Giles and Ray Holthausen remember seeing Andy and Jackie Hummert collapse on the driveway at the firehouse when they learned their only son had been killed. McCracken still struggles with letting his emotions flow; what he experienced doesn’t come close to what the former B crew endured.
“I feel guilty for having so many emotions, because I wasn’t even there,” McCracken said.
“They were all there in their own ways,” Wisely said.
And they are all coping in their own ways. Martin and Appel declined to be interviewed.
‘I’m A better officer’
Julie Fite was four months pregnant when her husband was shot. Their son, Tony, was born in January.
She sent Christmas cards to the firefighters and paramedics who rescued her husband. She struggled to find the words to say to one in particular — Neff, who dragged Adam Fite to safety.
“How do you thank somebody for giving your husband his life and keeping your family a family?” she said.
A bullet from a 6.5 mm bolt-action rifle pierced the right side of his chest and shattered his sternum. It collapsed a lung, then exited, blowing out the lower portion of his badge.
Fite said the experience has made him a better father to his two sons, Tony, and Victor, 2, as well as a better police officer.
Fite has relived the scenario thousands of times in the past year, contemplating how he would have handled the situation had he not been shot.
“I don’t think of it like a victim reliving a tragedy,” Fite said. “I think of it from a police officer standpoint. This is an experience most officers will never get. It’s a horrible experience, but a good experience to learn from. I believe I’m a better officer because of it.”
Knowing others struggle to cope with the events that unfolded that day upsets him most.
“I see how other people are affected by this, and that’s when it affects me emotionally,” Fite said.
‘No more normal’
Hummert’s parents say they see the pain on the firefighters’ faces.
“My heart breaks for them,” Jackie Hummert said.
“We all owe it to Ryan to do the best with our lives,” she said. “He would hate it if our lives were ruined because of this.
“You have to find a new normal,” she said.
Neff still is struggling to find his. When a friend asked if he was getting back to normal, Neff replied, “There is no more normal.”
“I just want my life back,” he said. “But it won’t ever come back.”
Despite their continuing struggles, there have been bright spots. Like the community support. For the week after Hummert’s death, surrounding fire departments covered for Maplewood.
When they returned to duty, one of their first calls was for a man having chest pains. When the man learned they were Maplewood firefighters, he ordered his wife to write them a check for $100 to the nonprofit group the firefighters founded in Hummert’s honor.
“Here he is having a heart attack, and he’s worried about writing us a check,” said Lt. Tim Marhanka. “It was unbelievable.”
But little things pop up in their daily lives to bring the pain rushing back.
Fire Chief Terry Merrell remembers looking at his calendar to schedule a meeting and seeing the date he was supposed to recommend Hummert’s permanent hiring still marked there.
“It’s always going to be a part of you,” Merrell said. “I don’t know how it could not.”
For comfort, Neff keeps pictures of his children on his cell phone.
“That’s one of the reasons I live and breathe,” he said, looking at a picture of his 3-year-old daughter curled up asleep on his couch.
He smiled and reclined in the chair Hummert used to sit in at the firehouse.
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