Why We Went Back To Columbine

By Walter Isaacson, Managing Editor

I want to explain why we returned to Columbine this week, running a chilling cover photo and stories about killers we would rather forget.

Although we worked hard last April to report the news in the days following the shootings, we felt there were questions that still needed to be answered. So six weeks ago, we sent a team back to Littleton, Colo., to investigate what actually motivated the killers and find out what they were really like. What could we learn about how to spot--and deal with--the demons that can lurk inside the souls of seemingly average kids? What was the community doing to heal its wounds and prevent such shootings in the future?

In the course of our reporting, correspondent Tim Roche was allowed to view the five videotapes made by Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold before their massacre. In them, they explain their insecurities, hatreds, worries, desires and motivations. When you read what was going on in their minds, you will be frightened and sickened, but you will understand better the twisted motives that drove them. We were also given access to much of the evidence collected by investigators, including videotape of the gunmen taken by a school security camera, which provides a clearer picture of what actually happened.

Assistant managing editor Dan Goodgame, who led our team, is the father of three schoolkids and the husband of a teacher, and he was sympathetic to the concerns of the survivors and others in the community. "Family after family told us what they wanted most was to know everything about what happened and why, so that the deaths would have some meaning and might help others stop such things," he says. "What we have uncovered is far more than any of them have been told. While they won't be happy to see the killers back in the news, they'll have more of the answers they've been seeking."

Klebold and Harris say on the tapes that they did not want to be seen as copycats and that they were planning their own horror before other school shootings made news. Nevertheless, we had to wrestle with whether running a picture of them might seem, perversely, to glorify them to other twisted minds or give them the publicity they wanted, even though they are dead.

Indeed, it would be nice if we could always avoid showing evil people on our covers. "It's not our tendency to sensationalize crime or do covers on the crime of the week," says editor-in-chief Norman Pearlstine. "Sometimes, however, a shocking picture--of a wartime execution, a brutality, a kid with a gun--along with an analysis of the tale behind it serves to focus our eyes on things we would prefer to ignore but instead should try to understand. I think it is worth the pain if it forces us to confront the issues of guns and violence and hidden anger in our schools, communities and families."

This story is not so much about kids seeking glory as it is about grownups not looking and seeing, about people who preferred to sugarcoat rather than confront reality. We're likely to get letters from people saying they had to hide the issue from their children. I understand. Some of us may be hiding it from our own little kids as well. But I don't think we should hide the shocking images and stories from ourselves. The concept of a kid in a school cafeteria with a gun is one that should disquiet us.

Before you make a judgment, please read the stories, written by Nancy Gibbs, Andrew Goldstein and Sam Gwynne. I think you will find them sensitive, and I hope you will agree that they provide a new level of insight into what happened at Columbine. You will also learn how the parents in that community have tried to find ways to help others avoid a similar tragedy. If it makes you want to join their cause, you can do so by contributing to the fund they are supporting: the HOPE Columbine Atrium and Library Fund, c/o The Denver Foundation, P.O. Box 24035, Denver, Colo. 80224-0035 www.hopecolumbine.org) which has announced its drive to raise at least $3.1 million to build a new library for the school.

Walter Isaacson, Managing Editor