WCC faculty remembers shooting victim
By Phyllis Moore
Published in News on April 18, 2015 10:34 PM
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News-Argus/MELISSA KEY
The name plate featuring slain print shop employee Ron Lane's name remains on a door inside a building on Wayne Community College's campus.
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News-Argus/MELISSA KEY
The memorial of flowers and gifts left for WCC staff member Ron Lane remains on campus despite previous plans to take it down because students, faculty and friends continue to add items as the healing process continues.
Kirk Keller is still sifting through all the emotions that bubbled up Monday morning as he was driving to work at Wayne Community College.
Before the WCC instructor in the business administration/operation management department even arrived, the calls started coming in from co-workers that the campus was on lockdown.
"My first thought -- it was a mistake, that the alarm went off," he said.
He soon learned that it was not a drill, evoking "shock" followed by "extreme concern" for those already at work.
But then came the news that Ron Lane, the print shop technician, had been killed.
"When I found out Ron was dead, then I was pissed, I was mad," he said. "You're messing with our folks. This was someone we have worked with.
"This is our second home. We're tight, the staff, the faculty, students, they become part of your family."
Lane had worked at the college for 18 years. Keller knew him for the past six years.
"We're a diverse group (he said of the campus staff). I think that makes us stronger," he said. "We're the pulse of the community as far as I'm concerned."
Keller said the staff takes great pride in the community college and the role it plays in this county.
"Despite that tragic event, we have rallied together for support and strengthened our resolve to accomplish WCC's mission and retain our well-earned awesome reputation as a topnotch educational institution."
Like any family, even a "work family," those at the college have closed ranks in the days following the incident that claimed one of their own. The media circus has placed them all in unfamiliar territory.
"We're guarded," Keller said. "We're very proud of our reputation, and I feel like somehow it's being challenged, and we're defensive about that."
The atmosphere in the aftermath has been somber, as friends and colleagues support one another.
""There's a lot of embracing or hugging, reassurances because we all were called. I got calls from all over -- from Texas to Maryland and even hundreds of texts and phone calls, people concerned," he said. "That was just my story. Everybody's had that.
"It's almost like it's just an awakening of what occurred. It's the first step in healing. The memorial out front at the clock, that was something to see -- people paying respects and I think it's not only a memorial to him but also to the pain that everybody felt."
The situation is unique to those at WCC, where such a scene was unexpected and unprecedented. It has thrust the college into the national spotlight, while positioning those there in a club they never wanted to join.
"We console each other," he said. "I went to the person who was first on the scene. We need that from each other. It's a lot easier for us because we have gone through it.
"We're guarded about who we let in because this is family."
Some of the news reports have been especially challenging. The announcement that the shooter, Kenneth Morgan Stancil, a student in the welding program who formerly worked in the print shop with Lane, had been an Eagle Scout, it made Keller, himself an Eagle Scout, bristle.
"He doesn't represent me or anything that I believe in," he said. "I'm proud of being an Eagle Scout."
And then there was all the sensationalism overshadowing the person who no longer has a voice, Lane.
"I'm tired of the negativity on Ron, bringing out his personal life," Keller said about the references about Lane's being an openly gay man. "The man was murdered. Nobody deserves that.
"He's one of our own, no matter what. He's always thought well of here. Any time we needed his help, he was there."
Jack Kannan, executive director of the WCC Foundation, had known Lane for 18 years.
"I have probably known he was gay for the last 15 years and that's all. We never had any conversation or talked about that," he said. "I'm not here to defend Ron. I'm here to tell the facts as I see them.
"He was as good a person, if we were at a dinner, I'd usually sit with him because he was interesting to talk to."
Like Keller, Kannan was diverted from coming to work by the notification of the lockdown.
Once that was lifted and people were allowed to leave the campus, Kannan invited several to gather, including his daughter, Jacqueline Kannan, who also works at WCC as marketing and recruitment specialist.
"We met with a group of about 15 people at Longhorn's," he said. "I just wanted them to have a time to just talk and vent.
"This lady knew we were congregating and sent over four trays of appetizers."
Surprised, Kannan said the employee told him, "We just know what y'all are going through and want to do this. This was just very touching to me, to have that kind of empathy.
"And that was just one spoke in the (wheel). In this community, the others, the outpouring of emails and calls that were received. Not just in Wayne County but outside, my cohorts from around the state."
Outside the print shop, the entrance door still bears Ron Lane's nameplate.
It, like the indelible imprint on the hearts of those who knew him, is not easily removed.
Brent Hood, coordinator of educational support technologies, worked with Lane for 10 years, the last three as his supervisor.
He painted a picture of a quirky but positive person.
"He was always joyous. He walked with a little hip in his step, like he was comfortable in his own skin," Hood said. "It was always a shirttail hanging out, a little messy, his color coordination was not all that great, that was just Ron.
"He would stop to help someone, maybe to a fault sometimes."
Lane dealt with faculty and staff more than students, he said, and while Lane had his own way of doing things, his demeanor left people better for having been around him.
"Even if they had any concerns or stress or a bad day, it all went away -- people could walk in there with their troubles and just from his personality, their troubles would go away with that five minutes," he said. "They knew they could go there and get a laugh."
Lane also had a memorable way of fielding calls.
"When he'd answer the phone, he would say, 'Print Shop Ron, how can we help you?' We, not 'I,'" Hood said. "But 'Print Shop Ron,' it was like it became his name.
"Someone actually made him a shirt, embroidered it on there. There's a lot of people that that's what they called him."
The loss has been difficult on the department, professionally as well as personally.
With the last weeks of the semester, and the upcoming graduation, fast approaching, there are also many printing jobs to be done. Jobs that Lane would have deftly handled.
Instead, his co-workers find themselves unable to sufficiently grieve and instead must get back to work.
"As a department, we're working through the (continuity) plan to put ourselves back in business for the college," Hood said. "We'll continue to remember Ron but we know that we're employees of the college so we're expected to pick up by our bootstraps and do the job."