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August, 1966. Very hot. A Friday? Don't remember.
Whitman killed his wife the night before his Spree, using a hunting knife. That morning, he used the knife to kill his mother.
He went to the tower wearing khakis; he had a footlocker on a dolly and appeared to be some sort of University janitorial-type employee. He had an M-1 Carbine, a Remington 6mm with a K4, a S&W (IIRC) .357, and sardines, crackers, and at least one gallon of water, a shotgun-pistol and his hunting knife.
He went up to the Observation Deck office, and killed the woman there with the single-shot, sawn-off shotgun. (He had openly used a neighbor's hacksaw and vise, a couple of days before the Spree.) As he was preparing to block the access door into the office, a family showed up. He killed two and wounded at least one, with the shotgun-pistol. I think it was the father and one child who escaped.
He then went out on the south parapet and opened fire with his M-1 Carbine, during the last few minutes of class-change time. The delay from his dealing with the family undoubtedly saved many lives, since most students had already left the South Mall area. It was at that time he killed Patrolman Billy Speed, who was on foot approaching the Mall.
Over the next hour, civilian ground fire was the only useful effort. The Austin PD had only those old .351 self-loaders. Travis County deputies went home and got deer rifles. Afterwards, the then-head of the DPS Homer Garrison told my father that without the ground-fire from citizens, Whitman could have stayed up there until he ran out of food and water. Ground fire forced him to fire through drain holes in the parapet wall, rather than over it. Ground fire then began searching the drain holes.
A National Guard guy entered the tower from the West Mall. A policeman took the NG's M-1 Carbine away from him. They were then joined by Officer Martinez, who had gotten to the tower through a steam tunnel.
Then, the Assistant Manager of the University CoOp arrived. He was a WW II Vet, and had experience in street/city battle in Europe. He organized and led the operation thereafter.
They went to the OD Office. They carefully checked the only access to the deck, on the south side. The two patrolmen moved east and then north along the east side of the tower. The Vet moved west and then north. The west side is not a clear path (Disremember the visual obstacles); he heard some sound and fired a shot in an effort to get a ricochet into the then-unknown Bad Guy.
That shot forced Whitman to the northwest corner of the observation deck. The patrolmen came around the northeast corner, saw Whitman, and ordered him to freeze. He didn't. They emptied a pistol and a shotgun at/into him, killing him.
That's the bare bones of it.
I had just moved from an apartment two blocks from the campus; I went by to check for any mail. I saw a group down the street; looked like maybe an auto accident. Went down to see, comparing my watch with the tower's clock (!). Learned of the shooter. Instantly got behind a tree. Saw a guy standing out in the street, looking at the tower. He got shot in the right, upper chest. I ran for an ambulance. (No sprinter in the world could have stayed with me.) I then directed traffic, trying to keep gawkers from getting shot. Drivers wanted to stop in the intersection of (now) MLK and University avenue and gawk.
I later stepped off the distance from the Tower to where I saw the guy get shot. 420 yards. Several of those who got shot had heard of the activity on their radios and drove over to watch "the action".
Martinez was generally given the credit for the hits that killed Whitman. While honored, he never really got over the affair, and later on left law enforcement.
Whitman was not known to ever shoot at an ambulance nor at any of those rendering assistance.
Art
Whitman had been in the Marine Corps; Honorable Discharge, SFAIK. He was married. He was a Scoutmaster. His GPA was a C+. IOW, everything needed to be eligible to buy licensed firearms under any gun-control system in any state in the country.
He had been to the Student Health Center more than once, complaining of headaches. No treatment beyond aspirin.
Directing traffic, I guess I yelled rather harshly at forty or fifty people who wanted to pause and look. And they'd look at me as I were the dim-witted one.
Whitman dumped one round right at the foot of a Kappa Sig who'd come out of the frat house at the head of University Avenue to sit behind a 4" oak tree and watch. I was just going to yell, "I don't think I'd sit there!" when the clump of turf lifted. Think "Levitation" and "Exit, instanter!" About 550 yards.
A buddy of mine had exited the Tower and was walking on the west mall sidewalk. Whitman bounced a bullet off the sidewalk right by him. He went into the Student Union, just in time to help with first aid for a kid who'd been looking up at the Tower. Whitman spotted him through the window; hit him in the left biceps.
The moral is, if you can't shoot back, practice not being there. And consider the joys of a lack of curiosity.
Art
