Bailey – The Platte Canyon High School student body let loose Thursday, laughing so hard it seemed they could hardly stay in their seats.
Comic and motivational speaker Craig Zablocki told them it was OK to release their fear, to put down their sorrow and just let it out with guffaws and giggles, or tears if they preferred.
In September, 53-year-old Duane Morrison seized the school and held six girls hostage in a classroom, molesting some before fatally shooting 16-year-old Emily Keyes and himself as a SWAT team broke in.
“Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago, and sometimes it seems like yesterday,” said Cathy Rheinberger, the school district’s director of educational services, who invited Zablocki to put on his program “Positively Humor,” as he had done at Columbine seven years ago.
Zablocki understands grief.
Twenty years ago on Dec. 30, his older sister, Christine, was raped and murdered. The killer was never caught. Zablocki carries her picture in his briefcase.
“There was a time I thought I would never laugh again,” he told the students.
But his sister, a teacher, always made others laugh, even cheering up strangers.
And that’s what Zablocki has done with his life, speaking to hundreds of audiences across the country about lightening up, owning their feelings and shirking the worries about what other people think.
Before the presentation, he met with Casey Keyes, Emily’s twin brother. He wouldn’t elaborate on their conversation.
“I gave him my card and told him to call me whenever he wants,” Zablocki said, the easy smile slipping from his face.
He told jokes to the students in the gym, then pulled some from the audience to do improv sketches, make up silly songs, wiggle on the floor like fish. Teachers and students howled.
At the end he asked for questions, expecting serious thoughts about grief and coping.
The first question: Why do people have fingernails?
“To help open letters,” Zablocki shot back.
The last question: What is the meaning of life?
“It’s love,” he said.
As the kids wandered out of the gymnasium, handshakes and hugs seemed a little more noticeable than when they came in. A girl with misty eyes rushed up to Zablocki and thanked him.
He replied: “No, thank you.”
Staff writer Joey Bunch can be reached at 303-954-1174 or jbunch@denverpost.com.
