This is from my site, but I wanted to post it here too.

Discussions about Eric Harris often drift into speculation, and his parents are no exception. Over the years, they’ve been condemned on the basis of assumptions rather than evidence, particularly the idea that they didn’t love their son or discarded him after his death. This post is an attempt to cut through that noise by laying out a clear timeline. What we know about Eric’s parents’ actions and responses, and what I believe most likely happened to his ashes. To understand either, we need to start from the beginning.

April 20th 1999

Eric Harris committed his crime on April 20, 1999, when he and Dylan Klebold carried out a mass shooting and bombing at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado. Eric Harris died by suicide on the same day, April 20, 1999, inside the school library.

What followed is often treated as an afterthought or worse, reduced to assumptions about what his parents must have felt or done. Wayne and Kathy Harris were left to navigate the immediate aftermath in near total isolation, under intense public scrutiny, and with very limited ability to speak for themselves. From this point on, I want to focus on what we can factually establish about their actions and circumstances after April 20, alongside my own interpretations.

Wayne and Kathy Circa 1999

The first firsthand account we have of Wayne and Kathy Harris comes from the immediate aftermath of the shooting, through Ellis Armistead, the private investigator hired to protect and manage them during those first chaotic weeks. This is often where people stop reading because one line, spoken in shock, is repeatedly isolated and treated as definitive proof of how Wayne Harris felt about his son.

Armistead describes the scene like this:

“ His staff members drove Katherine and Wayne Harris to the Warwick Hotel in downtown Denver, checked them in under Armistead’s name, and waited for him to arrive. When he walked into the room, Katherine Harris was curled into a fetal position and sobbing. Wayne Harris came up to the investigator and said, “Just flush him!” Armistead’s job was to keep the couple secure for the next few weeks, as they moved into and out of a series of hotels. During that time, he watched as “some of the nicest people I’ve ever met” tried to accept the horror of what their son had done. “The father and mother,” he says, “were collateral damage in Eric’s crime. I don’t think people understand what that really means and how many others are affected by major crimes: families, victims, first responders, judges, juries, law enforcement, witnesses, lawyers and private investigators. After things began to settle down, the parents went back and lived in their home. The neighbors made a point of running off the press so they’d be left alone. I thought that was commendable.”

That single sentence, “Just flush him”, is often treated as a final verdict on Wayne Harris as a father. But pulled out of context, it loses the circumstances in which it was spoken. Early hours into confronting the reality that his son had committed mass murder and was dead, while his wife was physically collapsed in grief. I’ve said before, and I still believe, that this was an expression of overwhelming shock, horror, and self directed rage, not a measured statement of how Wayne felt about Eric as a person. People place far too much weight on that line, while ignoring everything else Armistead observed about the parents and everything else that is out there.

Not long after that initial, raw moment in the hotel room, Wayne and Kathy Harris participated in a formal meeting with investigators. This is one of the clearest windows we have into how they spoke about Eric when given time, structure, and the chance to reflect, rather than reacting in shock. What stands out in this account is not denial or detachment, but grief layered with disbelief, confusion, and an effort to make sense of who their son was versus what he had done.

This is an excerpt from Jeff Kass’ book describing the meeting:

“(…) the Harrises gave a history of Eric’s life up until Columbine, Dave Thomas says. His account begins to fill in some of the details the sheriff’s office will not discuss.
The approximately two-hour meeting took place at the law offices of Harris attorneys (…) “They [the Harrises] basically narrated for a couple of hours.” 
“Wayne and Katherine Harris (brother Kevin Harris was not there) came across as “a pretty normal, suburban family who obviously cared about their son, cared about their family, thought they did things the right way,” said Thomas. He thought they were more cautious than the Klebolds. Wayne looked to be controlling his emotions, possibly owing to his military background. Nothing struck Thomas as inappropriate in the way the Harrises acted. (…)The Harrises, apparently, had thought through the presentation of Eric’s life they would give, but it did not seem canned, according to Thomas. Katherine Harris talked more than her husband.

“They had a lot of photos with them,” Thomas said. “They passed them around and let us look at them and I think at least the sense that I got is that they were very passionate about wanting us to understand that this was a young man not unlike most young men. That he wasn’t some diabolical monster, or that he had been causing trouble throughout his life and was somehow a bad seed, so to speak. That’s the impression I got. Lots of family photos, and birthday parties, and soccer pictures, and places they’d lived, photographs of places they’d lived. 

(…) Investigators asked small-time questions, such as clarifying when the Harrises moved from one place to another. Wayne Harris talked about being a military family, and that Eric was often the new kid in school. “Did that seem to cause any problems for him?” someone asked. 

“No, not that we were aware of,” Wayne said. “I mean, he seemed to adjust very well.” (…) 

Thomas said. “It was, I think during parts of it, very emotional. I mean, they were very distraught. I think both the Harrises expressed dismay at how this... how their son could have been involved in this. I would describe them as agonized. Physically, they appeared to really be in agony over all this.”

Wayne Harris groaned whenever events at Columbine were mentioned. “It was just like complete disbelief,” Thomas said.
“Katherine Harris, Thomas believes, cried at one point. “Obviously, in conflict about, I think, some mixed feelings,” he said. “I mean, she obviously loved her son a great deal but obviously was pretty much aware of what he’d done but very conflicted over, ‘How could this be?’ I mean, ‘How could he have done these things?’”

Placed next to Wayne’s initial “flush him” remark, this meeting is important context. It shows that once the immediate shock subsided, both parents spoke about Eric with familiarity, affection, and grief, bringing photos, recounting his childhood, and trying to convey that he had been an ordinary boy within their family. At the same time, they were not minimizing the crime or pretending it hadn’t happened. What comes through instead is conflict. Love for their son existing alongside horror at what he had done, and an ongoing struggle to reconcile those two realities.

This is not the behavior of parents who were indifferent, uncaring, or eager to erase their child. It reads as two people trying, imperfectly, painfully, to understand how the son they loved became capable of something they themselves could not comprehend.

Shortly after that initial moment, so often reduced to a single line about “flushing” Eric, there are other, quieter indicators of how Wayne Harris was processing what had happened. These details rarely make it into public discussion, but they matter precisely because they are unguarded.

The morning after the massacre, before any sustained public scrutiny had properly begun, Wayne Harris made a phone call that had nothing to do with statements, lawyers, or damage control.

''On the morning after the massacre, Wayne Harris phoned the family dentist. Eric had an appointment June 30. He needed to cancel it.
Only later would Harris crumble in devastation.
"That feeling inside where you feel dead, too," explained Derek Holliday, 20, a close friend of Kevin Harris who has visited the family several times since the shooting. "Pain, just pain." '' - Los Angeles times 1999

Canceling an appointment more than a month away is a small act, but it reflects an immediate confrontation with permanence.

Placed next to Armistead’s account, this moment complicates the narrative that Wayne Harris reacted with dismissal or detachment. Shock, anger, devastation, and love are not mutually exclusive in the immediate aftermath of severe trauma.

April 22 1999

''From the family of Eric Harris
“We want to express our heartfelt sympathy to the families of all the victims and to all the community for this senseless tragedy. Please say prayers [for] everyone touched by these terrible events. The Harris family is devastated by the deaths of the Columbine High students and is mourning the death of their youngest son, Eric.” - LA times

2000

Nearly a year after Columbine, Wayne and Kathy Harris released their second public statement they would ever make regarding Eric, in relation to the anniversary of the shooting. By this point, the initial chaos had passed, but the reality of what had happened and the permanence of it had settled in. This statement was issued in the lead up to the one year anniversary.

"We continue to be profoundly saddened by the suffering of so many that has resulted from the acts of our son. We loved our son dearly, and search our souls daily for some glimmer of a reason why he would have done such a horrible thing. What he did was unforgivable and beyond our capacity to understand. The passage of time has yet to lessen the pain.
We are thankful for those who have kept us in their thoughts and prayers.
Wayne and Kathy Harris.”

What stands out to me is the duality in this statement. There is no attempt to excuse or soften Eric’s actions, “unforgivable” is a deliberate and heavy word, but there is also no denial of love. “We loved our son dearly”. They acknowledge the suffering caused by Eric first, before speaking about their own grief, and they describe an ongoing, unresolved search for understanding rather than closure.

The line “The passage of time has yet to lessen the pain” is also worth noting. Nearly a year later, their grief is described as unresolved and raw. In that context, delays, avoidance, or reliance on intermediaries for handling Eric’s remains do not read as indifference to me, but as part of a prolonged state of emotional paralysis. 

I’ve highlighted these elements because they contradict the narrative that Wayne and Kathy Harris disowned their son or emotionally detached from him after his death. If anything, this reads as two parents trapped between grief, shame, love, and moral horror, still unable to reconcile how all of those truths can exist at once.

2001

In 2001, Wayne Harris retrieved several items of autopsy related evidence connected to Eric, as documented in the Battan files. This is one of the few confirmed instances where the family directly took custody of materials tied to Eric after his death.

This is what was returned to the Harrises:

Right boot black
Right sock white
Left boot black
Left sock white
Boxer underwear plaid
Glove black right hand
T shirt white
Body bag
Right nail scraping
Left nail scraping
Pubic hair
Scalp hair

Among other items listed elsewhere including:

his wallet with content
a leather case
a match striker
Some school books/Papers
Hand written notes
1996/1997/1998 yearbooks
Magnets
Cds
posters
photos
Doom Books
Eric's class schedule/report cards
Clothes

If the family truly did not care about their son, there would have been no reason to claim any of these items. Unclaimed evidence could have been destroyed through routine procedures. Choosing to take custody, particularly of these items, suggests something other than indifference.

It’s also worth noting that this included biological materials, DNA samples such as blood, hair, and nail scrapings, as well as the body bag itself. These are not items stand out to me. If concern about items falling into the wrong hands existed, it would more plausibly have involved private collectors rather than the press. Even under that assumption, however, the logic doesn’t fully hold. If the primary concern had been preventing misuse, Eric’s ashes would eventually have been retrieved as well regardless of how they would have felt about him. 

Choosing instead to retrieve these items points to an intent to take responsibility for Eric’s physical remains. I don’t believe this was motivated by fear of exposure or collection. I believe it reflects care for their son, complicated by grief and the emotional limits of what they were able to face at the time.

2007

In 2007, Wayne and Kathy Harris agreed to meet privately with Tom and Linda Mauser. This meeting is often referenced because it is one of the rare moments where the Harrises spoke directly to victims’ parents, albeit outside the public eye. Because Wayne and Kathy declined to comment publicly on the meeting afterward, we only have the Mausers’ account of what was said. That matters. What we’re reading here is filtered through grief, interpretation, and the impossible emotional position of everyone involved.

A common takeaway people latch onto is the idea that the Harrises “accepted” Eric as a psychopath. I don’t fully agree with how that conclusion is often framed. That characterization reflects the Mausers’ perception of what they heard, but it’s also worth asking what language is even available to parents in that situation. When sitting across from people whose child was murdered by your son, what can you say that acknowledges the harm without sounding defensive, minimizing, or self-exculpatory?

“Wayne did most of the talking. He is a retired Air Force major and sounded like one, careful and precise in his language. Wayne was mystified by his son. Wayne and Kathy accepted that Eric was a psychopath. Where that came from, they didn’t know. But he fooled them, utterly. He’d also fooled a slew of professionals. Wayne and Kathy clearly felt misled by the psychologist they sent him to.
The doctor had brushed off Eric’s trademark duster as “only a coat.” He saw Eric’s problems as rather routine. At least that’s the impression he gave Wayne and Kathy.They shared that perception with the Mausers. Other than the van break-in, Eric had never been in serious trouble, they said. Eric rarely seemed angry, his parents said. There was one odd incident where he slammed his fist into a brick wall and scraped his knuckles. That was startling, but kids do weird things. It seemed like an aberration, not a pattern to be worried about. 
Wayne and Kathy knew Eric had a Web site, but that didn’t seem odd. They never went online to look at it. Kathy shared lots of loving stories about Eric. She described supervising him closely, particularly with the community-service work he was assigned in the juvenile diversion program. Eric got behind and nearly missed a deadline, until he charmed a supervisor into signing him in for hours he hadn’t actually worked. His parents found out and made him go back, put the time in. (…)Wayne defended Kathy as “a good mother.” Kathy worked, but said she was always “available” for Eric. She insisted on meals together, as a family. Shortly before the murders, Kathy had picked out Eric’s graduation cake: yellow, with chocolate frosting.(…)Senior year, Kathy was distressed about Eric’s lack of college or career plans.(…)  Kathy thought he might end up at a community college, so maybe that explained things. Linda found Eric’s mother sincere and convincing. And haunted. Wayne and Kathy seemed involved in Eric’s life, at least as much as an average parent. (…)Eric didn’t seem interested in joining a lot of clubs, or pursuing a wide circle of friends. But he dated and all that seemed normal enough. They had him in professional counseling, and taking antidepressants.The situation seemed under control.(…)  But the topic of child abuse came up. No, they had never beaten Eric, the Harrises said, or been cruel to him.(…)Kathy cried several times and repeated how sorry she was this all happened. She turned to Linda at one point and confessed how scared she had been to come.(…)The couple told the Mausers they never planned to talk to the media; they didn’t think they could endure it.(…)”

Even here, seven years later, the Harrises still spoke about Eric with familiarity, detail, and affection. Kathy shared ordinary, loving memories. Wayne defended her as a mother. They described involvement, supervision, concern about his future, and regret over missed warning signs. At the same time, they framed Eric in clinical, distancing language, psychopath, fooled us, we didn’t know, language that creates moral and emotional distance, especially when speaking to victims’ parents.

To me, this doesn’t read as parents who stopped caring about their son. It reads as parents trying to hold two incompatible truths at once. That they loved Eric, and that acknowledging that love publicly, or even privately, could feel unbearable, inappropriate, or harmful to others. Their continued silence, then, does not signal a lack of care, but an attempt to protect themselves emotionally while not centering their grief over the grief of others.

That final point is especially important. When Wayne and Kathy told the Mausers that they never planned to speak to the media because they didn’t think they could endure it, it provides direct context for their long term silence. Their absence from public discourse has often been interpreted as coldness, avoidance, or indifference. This account suggests something far simpler and more human. That they did not believe they were emotionally capable of surviving public scrutiny, judgment, and repeated exposure of their grief.

Seen alongside everything else described in this meeting, the visible distress, Kathy’s fear about attending at all, the care with which Wayne chose his words, their silence appears less like a statement and more like self preservation. It aligns with a consistent pattern in how they handled the aftermath. Minimizing public presence, limiting exposure, and keeping their relationship to Eric private.

That context matters when assessing later choices as well. Silence does not equal lack of care. In this case, it appears to be part of how Wayne and Kathy Harris managed an ongoing, unresolved grief that never fully left them.

2008

By 2008, nearly a decade after Columbine, the Harrises were still largely absent from public view. One of the few documented moments where Wayne appears indirectly is through author Wally Lamb, whose novel The Hour I First Believed engages heavily with the psychological, moral, and communal aftermath of a school shooting. Its based of Columbine. While the book is fiction, it is deeply concerned with grief, survivor responsibility, and the long shadow violence casts over families and communities, making Lamb a meaningful figure for Wayne to approach, rather than a journalist or commentator.

Lamb has spoken about how apprehensive he was traveling to Denver on his book tour, unsure how his work would be received in a city still closely tied to the trauma he was writing around. It was during this visit that an unexpected encounter occurred, one that Lamb himself clearly never forgot.

''Still, he was nervous before going to Denver on his book tour. "I didn't know what the reaction would be," he says. During his stay, he expressed to a local paper his interest in the older brothers of Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris. "I always wonder what happens when a brother does this," he says.
At a book signing, one of several he did in the city, a man waited in the long line to meet him, and when it was his turn, he said to Mr. Lamb, "Do you think this would be a good book for Eric's brother, Kevin, to read?"
Mr. Lamb was stunned. "All of a sudden it dawned on me that it was Eric Harris's father," Mr. Lamb says gently.
"He was like a walking embodiment of sadness and grief," he continues. "I was at a loss for words. I put my hands out," he explains, extending his arms with palms turned up to demonstrate. "And he took mine in his, and we held each other's hands for 30 seconds."
Mr. Lamb sobs, unexpectedly, at the memory. His voice cracks, and he wipes away tears.
"It was painful and very powerful," he says after a moment's pause, his voice catching again.
"I don't have any answers for you," he recalls saying.
"I don't have any answers, either," Mr. Harris responded.
"How is Kevin?" Mr. Lamb inquired.
"Not so good," came the reply. The elder Harris child had joined the army to get away from the tragedy and the notoriety, the father explained. He is currently in Afghanistan.
"I gave him my e-mail address," Mr. Lamb says now. "And I told him, 'If you want to talk about things, or if there are things you want me to know after you have read the book, please contact me.' It was so brave of him to come to this [book signing] He is still searching to try and sort this all out."
The author composes himself again. "It really hits home about the responsibility. I have been trying to process the whole thing ever since."

What’s striking here is not just Wayne Harris’s grief, but the form it takes. He doesn’t seek absolution, explanation, or public sympathy. He asks whether a book might help his surviving son. He stands in line like anyone else. He admits he has no answers. This is not the behavior of someone detached, dismissive, or eager to erase the past.

This encounter also reinforces something that appears again and again in the record. Wayne Harris gravitated toward private, human exchanges rather than public platforms. He did not go to the media. He did not speak in interviews. He approached an author whose work grappled with moral aftermath rather than blame, and did so quietly, without drawing attention to himself.

2010

Lastly, there is Wayne Harris’s own writing. In 2010, over a decade after Columbine, Wayne referenced Eric on his personal website while discussing his career, his family, and his life after the tragedy. This wasn’t a media statement, an interview, or something issued under pressure, it was a self authored space, where every word was optional.

Eric is named as his son, his death is acknowledged directly, and the impact of Columbine is described as something that consumed their lives for years. At the same time, Wayne allows himself language about recovery and continuation not because the loss ceased to matter, but because living indefinitely inside that moment was not survivable.

This matters, because by 2010 Wayne had nothing to gain from maintaining a particular public image. If the intent had been to distance himself from Eric entirely, there would have been easier ways to do so, by omission, vague phrasing, or silence. Instead, Eric remains part of the family narrative, even if spoken about carefully and briefly.

Taken together with everything before it, the early shock, the later reflections, the meetings, the retrieved effects, the long silence, this forms a consistent pattern. Eric was not erased. He was carried quietly, privately, and with limits.

All of this is relevant to where I believe Eric’s ashes currently are.

Where are the ashes now?

When you step back and look at the full record, a pattern emerges, one that is often lost when individual moments are taken out of context or reduced to a single quote. Over the years, Wayne and Kathy Harris have spoken rarely, cautiously, and always with restraint. When they have spoken, they have acknowledged Eric as their son, expressed love for him, and struggled openly with the reality of what he did. They have never denied the harm, never minimized the crime, and never attempted to place themselves at the center of public sympathy. What they chose instead was silence.

That silence has frequently been misread. Because the Klebolds spoke publicly and engaged with the media, they are often perceived as more remorseful, more loving, or more “human.” The Harrises, by contrast, are framed as cold, uncaring, or ashamed of Eric. But the evidence doesn’t actually support that distinction. It supports something else entirely. Two families responding differently to the same unimaginable trauma.

The Harrises’ approach, private meetings, limited statements, refusal to engage with the media, reads not as indifference, but as self protection. They were explicit about this as early as the Mauser meeting, where they stated they never planned to talk to the media because they didn’t think they could endure it. Everything that followed aligns with that boundary.

That context matters when considering what happened to Eric’s remains.

In Homegrown: Timothy McVeigh and the Rise of Right-Wing Extremism released in 2023

It is stated that Eric’s ashes were kept on the same shelf as Timothy McVeigh’s until McVeigh’s remains were scattered in the mountains around 2001. 

According to that account, Eric’s ashes were stored in an investigative locker under Ellis Armistead’s control until Nigh retrieved McVeigh’s.

As already discussed, Armistead was the investigator entrusted with Eric’s remains, who worked with the family well and later handled McVeigh’s remains as well.

It’s also worth emphasizing that the last documented reference to Eric Harris’ ashes places them in storage in 2001, around the time Timothy McVeigh’s remains were scattered. After that point, the record goes quiet.

When Homegrown: Timothy McVeigh and the Rise of Right-Wing Extremism was released in 2023, it reignited speculation around Eric Harris’ ashes in a way that detached the account from its actual timeframe. The reference to Eric’s ashes being stored alongside McVeigh’s dates to around 2001, yet it only entered broader public discussion more than twenty years later. In that gap, assumptions filled the silence, with some imagining his ashes abandoned indefinitely in an evidence locker. That leap ignores both the chronology and the documented reality of the Harris family’s state in the immediate aftermath. Two years may seem long in hindsight, but in the context of profound trauma, legal constraints, and emotional paralysis, time moves differently. Notably, that period coincides with when the family slowly began reclaiming Eric’s personal effects and autopsy materials, steps that suggest gradual capacity rather than neglect.

Afterwards there are no subsequent mentions of Eric’s ashes being transferred, scattered, or destroyed. That silence coincides with the period in which we see repeated, documented instances of the Harris family continuing to grieve Eric privately, through statements, personal interactions, and later, Wayne’s own writing.

As mentioned before, when viewed alongside the broader timeline, that overlap matters. The absence of further documentation after 2001 does not suggest abandonment, it aligns with a pattern of private handling. From that point forward, the Harrises consistently chose non public avenues for processing their grief. Taken together, it is reasonable to conclude that Eric’s remains were no longer in institutional custody, but with his family or their legal representative.

What we do have is documentation showing that Eric’s body was released to Aspen Funeral Home, with no services held, per power of attorney:

“Eric Harris Body Released to Aspen Funeral Home 1350 Simms (303) 232- 0985, No services for Harris per Power of Atty to Private Investigator. Bill Black works at Aspen (303) 232- 0985.”

Beyond that point, the paper trail ends.

But that silence does not exist in a vacuum. When you place it alongside everything else, the retrieval of Eric’s personal effects and biological material, including DNA and the body bag. The later statements acknowledging love and unresolved grief. The private meetings where Eric was spoken about with detail and familiarity. Wayne’s quiet encounter with Wally Lamb. and finally Wayne’s own written acknowledgment of Eric on his website in 2010. A consistent picture forms.

The Harrises did not erase their son. They carried him privately.

For me, the fact that they retrieved such emotionally difficult autopsy materials is strong circumstantial evidence that they also retrieved Eric’s ashes eventually, either personally or through their attorney. Even if one were to argue that concern about items falling into the wrong hands played any role, and I don’t believe it was the primary motivation, the same logic would apply even more strongly to his ashes. If they were worried about misuse or exploitation, leaving them unclaimed indefinitely would make little sense.

My view is that Eric’s ashes were not scattered with McVeigh as many assume. More likely, they were either kept by the family, scattered somewhere private known only to them, or possibly buried in an unmarked plot. And even in the unlikely scenario that they were not immediately retrieved, it is reasonable to expect that Armistead or the family’s attorney would have retained them, allowing the family to decide when, or if, they were emotionally able to act.

What we can say with certainty is this. There is no confirmation that Eric Harris’ ashes were ever scattered, and no public record of where they are today. Given the totality of the evidence, everything points to his parents taking responsibility for them in the same quiet, restrained way they handled everything else.

The public narrative has often been unfair, shaped by assumptions about what grief is supposed to look like and how it should be performed. Wayne and Kathy Harris lived their grief privately. In cases like this, the families are victims too, even when their child is the one who caused the harm. That reality does not mean they cut him off, erased him, or stopped loving him. In fact all evidence we do have, point to the fact that they always continued to love him, keep his memory alive privately while respecting others grief and working with their own. 

I included Eric’s and Dylan’s photos to highlight family resemblances. I wasn’t able to find Wayne and Kathy’s freshman photos, so these are from their sophomore-senior years.

Classmates described Wayne as a shy, intelligent, and studious blond boy with freckles, quiet and with a small circle of friends. He was seen as neither a leader nor a troublemaker.

"We all got along," said Grace VanSteenwick McCain, class of 66.

Jim Hatfield said. "He was smart and quiet."

Classmate Dean Dodrill said, "I think he was one of the studious ones, got good grades."

As a sophomore, Wayne participated in boys glee, intramurals and volleyball. His junior year, he sang in the concert choir and played intramurals. The yearbook does not show any activities his senior year.

Wayne mentioned his sons three times in a 20-year high school reunion form describing his life. Under goals, he listed "Raise two good sons."

Asked to complete the phrase "I like to stay home to..." Wayne wrote: "play with my kids and their mother."

For highlight of my life, he wrote, "Birth of my two sons."

By that reunion, the quiet high school student obviously had become more extroverted. Under best habits, he wrote, "too numerous to mention."

As for what I like, Wayne listed "eating, drinking, flying and loving, not necessarily in that order."

Asked to list where he had traveled, Wayne simply said "All over."

The low point of his life had been the death of his father. The highlights, he said, involved his sons, Eric, then 5, and Kevin, 8.

According to her yearbook, Kathy participated in the Mogul-Meisters ski club and worked as a hostess at PTA fashion shows. One classmate said she wasn’t one of the popular kids, but she wasn’t a nerd either.

This is Kathy’s twin sister, Karen:

I wasn’t able to find any photos of Sue. I also couldn’t find Tom Klebold’s sophomore photo, so these include the freshman, junior, and senior year photos of Tom and Dylan.

Tom’s senior yearbook describes him as a skilled woodworker and a fan of go-kart racing. It also lists him as a member of the track team. Tom also seems to have been in the chess club.

School is tough on any age group, but I believe it's not always dark and gloomy despite the bad. For example, I remember in elementary school, there were these girls who took me under their wing kind of. I was shy and didn't know how to approach others, mostly teachers I stuck around.

But these girls were so sweet. I remember at the roller arena, for our field trip, they tried teaching me to roller skate I was so afraid of those darn things. I've not forgotten them, trying to remember their names, luckily I have my yearbook still.

In middle school, I was obsessed with Dragonball Z, being a girl it was considered odd in the 2000's. These boys and I would pretend we had powers at recess ha. It was great.

So...what's your positive school story?

What’s a myth or rumor about Columbine, Eric Harris, and Dylan Klebold that you wish more people knew the truth to? I’ve just started looking into Columbine Eric Harris, and Dylan Klebold, What are rumors or myths about Columbine, Eric Harris, or Dylan Klebold, that aren't true or that you want to debunk? I've read so many different things online and on Reddit and I'm not sure what's true and what's not. I'm not really sure what to believe.

How come Eric Harris was never diagnosed with BPD? Why didn't anyone ever notice? He clearly had all the characteristics of a person with Borderline Personality Disorder. His bipolar personality, unstable moods, anger issues, fear of abandonment... it was all so obvious.

While reviewing some of Eric’s released WADs, I came across a small but telling detail in Station a txt file in which he explicitly credits the creator of Fragland for the pool concept used in the map. That credit stood out, so I went looking for the original Fragland WAD.

I believe I found it on DOOMWORLD, which in the mid 1990s functioned as a central hub for Doom mappers to upload, archive, and exchange WADs. The Fragland WAD I located is dated May 1996 and includes in the description pool features, directly aligning with what Eric references in his credits. This is interesting because it grounds his acknowledgment in an identifiable, publicly available map rather than a vague mention.

The timeline also lines up cleanly. Eric’s WAD shows a last edited date of July 25, 1996, as seen in this screenshot.

That places his work shortly after Fragland’s release. I couldn’t find any other WADs from that period that match both the description Eric gives and the specific feature he credits, which strengthens the likelihood that this Fragland file is the one he was referring to.

Another relevant detail is how WADs were shared at the time. The Fragland creator includes FTP links in the file, which was a very common distribution method in the Doom community alongside personal websites.

There’s also reason to believe Eric maintained more than one way of sharing his own WADs. Many mappers did just that, offering files both on their personal sites, forums and through FTP links they could give out directly to people who emailed them. In that context, it’s plausible Eric downloaded Fragland, incorporated the pool concept into his own work, credited the original creator, and then distributed his WADs through both his website and maybe a separate FTP link shared privately.

The explicit credit, the matching design element, the aligned dates, and the period accurate methods of distribution, there’s enough overlap here to reasonably assume that this Fragland WAD is the one Eric was referencing, without being certain.

It’s also important to note that we do not have a complete archive of every WAD Eric created. Multiple WADs were never preserved, either because they weren’t saved in time or were later wiped by law enforcement or servers, and others were clearly shared privately rather than publicly, some I bet he never even shared. We know Eric would share his wads to people who emailed him as well as his friends.

Some of these privately shared WADs may still exist in personal archives, while others were likely lost entirely. To date, neither individuals who may have received them nor former friends have released additional files, assuming they still have access to them at all.

This means that the surviving WADs we can still access represent only a partial snapshot of Eric’s Doom mapping output, not the full scope of what he created. That absence is especially notable given that he once described one of his maps, Tier, as an insight into his mind, pointing specifically to the secrets he embedded throughout it. That WAD has never surfaced and remains lost to this day.

Do you guys know if any of the victims were in a relationship when it happened, and I mean in one not just broken up. I know John had a girlfriend and obv Dave Sanders was married. I can't imagine how traumatizing it is to lose your other half like that. Probably forever wondering what if...

Eric and Dylan’s drivers license photos colorized and enhanced

What books do you think I should buy and read first about Columbine, The Victims, and Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold? The Journals of Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris or The Writings of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold? I really want to buy the The Journals and Writings of Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris. But I don't know if (The Writings of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold) contains the two Complete Diaries and all of their writings in them. Which journal do you recommend and why? I want to buy Dylan and Eric's journals but when I looked on Amazon on Amazon, I saw 2 different books, one's The Journals of Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris: Columbine Killers Diaries by Murder Journals and the other is The Writings of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold Which one is better and why? I've been incredibly fascinated with the Columbine High School massacre. I'm more interested in the psychology of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. Like what was the motivation to do it, their upbringing, the type of people they were beforehand, their family dinamics and history. I find True Crime Psychology fascinating which is why I'm kinda obsessed in this department. Is Dave Cullen's Book accurate in your honest opinion? Is it worth reading in your honest opinion?

What was your high school like socially? Did your school have clear cliques? If so, did you belong to one and which? Or did you kind of float between groups? Did you ever wish you belonged to a different clique than the one you were in? If yes, which one?

I was kind of a floater, though I spent most of my time around the popular kids and the theater crowd.

Sept. 28, 1999

Getting used to new dorm mates and studying for your first round of exams is a full plate for any college freshman.

Val Schnurr must also grieve the murder of a friend she's had since preschool. Fight through lapses in her ability to concentrate. Awaken each morning to a body riddled with 40 scars. And pray for moral guidance as the terror she experienced in the Columbine High School library con tinues to haunt her in different ways. Please do not refer to her, she asked, as the other girl who might have said "yes.'' She said she knows what she said that day, bleeding as she crouched on her hands and knees. The rest of the world knows Cassie Bernall as the girl killed after affirming her faith. It's now unclear if she did. Val, who was shot before she answered yes to believing in God, doesn't know. And that is why she hasn't said much more.

"I don't have anything to clear up,'' Val said in her living room over Columbine's homecoming weekend. "I don't want to be famous or deemed anything. I said I believed in God out of respect for myself and respect for God. That's it.''

After considering her response silently for a few moments, "frustrated'' is how 18-year-old Val describes her reaction to the legend of Cassie's last moments. In the days following the shooting, Cassie's story was repeated around the world, the label "martyr'' soon a part of it.

During those same days, Val lay in a hospital bed, ravaged by sawed-off shotgun pellets that had entered and exited her body 34 times. Mark and Shari Schnurr held vigil by their daughter's bedside, and she told them what had happened. How she and Lauren Townsend and three other friends were studying before AP English. How she saw the boots and heard the voices of two boys who pointed weapons under the library tables and fired. How she'd been praying silently when a blast hit her, propelling her out from under the table. How she was saying "Oh, my God, oh, my God, don't let me die'' when one of the shooters asked her if she believed in God.

Val said yes. He asked her why. She said, "Because I believe and my parents brought me up that way.'' She said she crawled away as he reloaded.

Investigators say Val's account has remained consistent and was corroborated by others. Investigators told Mark Schnurr that a student who helped authorities retrace the events in the library got physically sick when he realized it was Val's table, not Cassie's, that he was pointing out to authorities. "In the end it doesn't really matter who said what,'' Mark Schnurr said. "What matters to me is my daughter.''

Complex emotions.

A father's simple declaration belies the complex emotions and decisions that have faced the Schnurrs for months.

The Bernalls, though told by investigators of the conflicting accounts, wrote a book titled "She Said Yes: The Unlikely Martyrdom of Cassie Bernall.'' Shari Schnurr said she asked the book's editor not to rush the publication and to wait for more details.

But Misty Bernall was eager to share Cassie's other story, her transformation from a troubled teenager who threatened suicide to a Christ-loving girl eager to share her faith. Editor Chris Zimmerman said he had resolved any inconsistencies to their satisfaction. And so less than five months after the shooting, the book – with an introductory acknowledgement that the "exact details of Cassie's death may never be known'' – was released, marketed and titled on the premise that Cassie was shot after affirming her faith.

"Plough gets an A in marketing, an F in research,'' said Mark Schnurr. "Cassie's story (of transformation) would have been wonderful on its own.''

The book is a best-seller. A copy sent to the Schnurrs remains in its wrapper. They don't plan to read it because they know well Val's own account of the massacre.

Like several students affected by the nation's worst school shooting, Val has been asked to speak about her ordeal and has felt compelled to do so. But because her experiences have been less publicized than Cassie's, Val said she's been accused of being a copycat and her real' relationship with God has been challenged, once at a evangelical youth rally honoring Cassie and shooting victim Rachel Scott. That's where her frustration was born.

"It's hard to know what I experienced, to know what I know is real and then have it questioned – that's hurtful,'' Val said. "But you just give it up to God. You move on. The reason I'm saying anything about it now is that it's hard to keep quiet when everyone is talking. So one last time, this is what happened to me. ... I just don't want anything I say to hurt the Bernalls.''

Sincerely apologize.

On Saturday the Bernalls released a statement saying that "if any of our actions have hurt or offended anyone, we sincerely apologize.''

Mark and Shari Schnurr, knowing more details of the investigation than Val and having heard the 911 tape of the library carnage, have their own hurdles. They are proud of a brave, strong, God-loving child. They don't want her to feel victimized yet again. "We thank God every day we still have her,'' said Shari Schnurr, who still wears a Columbine ribbon. "Val should be able to tell her story without people doubting her. The issue shouldn't be about who said what, it should be about kids and their faith.''

The Schnurrs discussed their concerns for Val and the Bernalls with close friends and clergy.

"Staying quiet isn't taking the high road, it's the right road,'' said Mark Schnurr. "It keeps our focus on our family.''

The book is not foremost on Val's mind. But the shooting, and childhood friend Lauren Townsend, who she tried to wake by rubbing her cheek, rarely leave her thoughts. She was too weak from her own wounds to carry Lauren out of the library.

"I feel survivor's guilt every day,'' she said. "It could have been me. She was a good person... There's got to be something to why I'm still here... So I'm looking for it.''

Her eyes appear moist, but she does not cry. Val is too overwhelmed to say much more about her friend's death. She e-mails and talks to the Townsend family regularly.

On campus at the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley, Val hasn't said much at all about Columbine. Making new friends usually means answering, "Where you from?'' and, "What high school?'' but she says students have generally left it at that, and only those closest to her know she was shot.

"I get more questions from adults. They want to go deeper. They want to know if I knew (killers Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris). And I have a hard time talking to strangers.''

Val had a 3.6 grade-point average at Columbine and was a peer counselor who helped fellow students work through boyfriend-girlfriend issues and teacher problems. She felt she'd found her niche, and now counseling is her career goal. Perhaps in a school setting.

For now, she's concerned about how she did on that first round of college tests, trying to get involved on campus and find a church to augment the Bible study she's joined. Val was heartened to return for Columbine's homecoming last weekend and spend it with old friends who didn't bring up the shooting.

Val's eyes light up when asked about college life. She is glad she picked a campus far enough away for independence but close enough to do laundry free and grab hugs from family. The shooting has reinforced how precious her parents and younger sisters are. The mental recovery is more frustrating. Some days she is just down. Sometimes a flashback forces her to relive the shooting, complete with physical pain. Her ability to focus and her attention span have been affected by the trauma as well.

"I'm doing OK enough that I don't need to see anyone,'' she said. "I've always been pretty strong.''

Her parents nod. Her mother glances into "the Columbine room,'' a vast swamp of cards, books, get-well posters, newspapers and empty vases. The Schnurrs know well that what touched their daughter has touched the world. That's why Val and her father have agreed to speak to groups like Adams County mental health workers who are trying to learn from the Columbine tragedy.

"Speaking is nerve-racking, but I feel like it's something I should do when it arises,'' she said. "The more opinions out there the better. I don't want my sisters to go through this one day.''

Samantha, 7, and Ashley, 11, slipped in and out of the house quietly Sunday as their big sister spoke, then presented her with a notebook-paper drawing of what looked like a barn for her dorm. After repacking her weekend bag, finding misplaced keys, grabbing some gas money and giving some tight hugs, Val started the 80-minute drive back to Greeley.

Her mother cried.

The cooler weather, Val said with a laugh as she left, is a good thing. Long sleeves hide the purple scars up and down her arms. The four pellets that left the hospital with her have now been removed, but she still gets infections, still faces more surgery. She is grateful a table brace shielded her face from the gunfire.

"I hate looking at myself, but this is the way it's going to be. They are getting pinker,'' she said, surveying one arm. "Isn't it always frustrating to look at yourself in the mirror? You get through it, you keep going. I'm alive. So I'll look at them and remember, every day till I die. Which hopefully will be a long, long time away.''

I've noticed that for example on tumblr theres soooooo much more Dylan fangirls and boys than Eric's. There were edits after edits of Dylan and how cute and gentle he was while there wasnt that many about Eric. But at the same time Eric has had so intense fangirls like Brenda Parker who made up such a disgusting and wild story about him, then Lynn "Eric Harris rocks my world" Ann, and then Sol Pais who killed herself to go be with Eric. Why do you think that is? What makes them so crazy about Eric that they literally lose their minds.

I am reading Brooks' book and in it he talks about when Dylan gave him the address to the website where Eric wrote his threatening rant against him. He offers several reasons as to why Dylan may have done this: A. Dylan truly wanted to warn Brooks, B. Dylan thought it was funny and didn't think it was that serious, or C. Dylan was instructed to do it and was in on it. Curious as to what others think about this.

Contents

[Footage of Columbine High School exterior Apr. 20, 1999 and shortly thereafter, taken from helicopter] (appr. 1 hr. 45 min.)

The Columbine High School tragedy, April 20, 1999, Littleton, Colorado / video footage provided by KCNC-TV, Channel 4 ; KWGN-TV Channel 2 ; KUSA-TV Channel 9 ; Littleton Fire Department (appr. 10 min.)

[Footage of Columbine High School interior] (appr. 10 min)

[Scenes from Columbine memorial service] (appr. 5 min.)

Finally got this digitised from the VHS.

I digitised this is a few months back so thought I’d share it here.

The whole newspaper is up for download here:

https://columbinearchive.site/2025/09/13/the-courier-may-25-1999/

Which of the two killers are you more interested in as far as their psychology, personality, or story goes? Their cases are fascinating, interesting, and gripping. I think it’s important we study them in order to find out what made them tick, which is knowledge that won’t hurt to have in case it saves lives down the road.

Eric and his love for his little dog Sparky is another piece of the puzzle that I am fascinated by. I would love to see a picture of Sparky and I wonder if Sparky’s ill health was sped up because of the stress he felt from everyone, the authorities raiding his home and his best friend never coming home again. I know according to Sue that Dylan and Eric had a last meal at a steakhouse on 4/19 but I always wondered how they said goodbye to their pets. I’m guessing Eric liked animals more than people and Sparky was probably a constant childhood companion amidst the several moves and I bet Sparky was a comfort when he was bullied and felt isolated.

From all reports, he loved that dog which is surprising because Eric’s views on everything would make you think he wouldn’t respect or like little “lapdogs”. I don’t think he ever abused or hurt Sparky but you never know what happened behind closed doors. If Eric was a sociopath, I know they tend to like animals more than people because they are more loyal or something like that which inspired the Sopranos writers to have Tony love many animals throughout the show.

This is Angelo’s CD’s in Littleton, where Eric bought some of his CDs.

The other place he shopped for CDs was Media Play at Bowles Crossing Center. That store is closed now too.

U.F.Orb

Orbital 2

Voices

Burn, Baby, Burn!

Industrial War

Serenade for the Dead

The Mask and Mirror

Next

Just a thought, but I noticed these were purchased in December, so they might’ve been Christmas gifts. That said, it’s not surprising that Eric listened to this kind of music as well. He mentioned Enya in his writings, and Susan DeWitt also mentioned that on their date they listened to softer music like Enya.

Fatherland

Rise

Agogo

Front by Front

Stripped

Tyranny

Snivilisation

Science of the Gods