Columbine may have stunned the nation, but many students don’t realize that a year later the U. Arkansas had a school shooting of its own—one that inevitably impacted the Razorback family. On the first day of fall classes in 2000, John Locke, an English professor, was shot and killed in his office in Kimpel Hall by a former graduate student, who then shot and killed himself.

As the shooting quickly turned into a national story, the Arkansas Traveler staff worked to produce a special four-page issue that came out the next day with the breaking news, features on the police involvement, the professor and university support services, a 911 phone call transcript, several large photos, and this statement from President Bill Clinton:

“Hillary and I were shocked and heartbroken to learn of the tragic shooting earlier today at the University of Arkansas on the first day of fall classes. We know that two more lives were taken on a day that should have been filled with hope and promise for students and faculty.

“We send our heartfelt thoughts and prayers along with those of the American public to the families, the university, and the entire Fayetteville community as they work through this difficult time.”

Matt Mills, a public safety commander with UAPD, was one of the officers on the scene. He said  that Columbine had changed the landscape of how officers approach and respond to active shooters on campus.

“None of the officers had active shooter response training at the time, but there are now three instructors that are certified to teach active shooter response training nationwide. Since the incident in 2000, they have taught classes locally to probably hundreds of officers in Northwest Arkansas alone.”

There are also departments across campus who particpate in active shooter response drills.

Journalism student Ryan Plunkett was just a few rooms over from Locke’s office the day it happened. “I was just sitting in class and we heard a loud bang. We didn’t know what it was but I had cousins in Columbine and I immediately knew,” he said. “I looked out and people were running everywhere. Then we heard a second shot—the suicide.”

James Easton Kelly was a comparative literature student for years but had a habit of withdrawing from classes every semester. He had tried to re-enter the program for the fall of 2000 but his committee would not let him continue. Locke, the head of the comparative literature program and Kelly’s advisor, was possibly the only one who was ready to give Kelly another chance.

After a few days, word spread that Kelly had carried a list in his pocket with names and office numbers of the committee members, likely his intended course of action. Journalism professor Phyllis Miller said Locke died a hero.

“He was defending the student and nobody else died,” she said. “It could have been another Columbine but it wasn’t and I give him the credit.”

Miller’s office was KIMP 131, directly under Locke’s 231, and she said it took her a long time to go down there. “It was creepy coming back.”

However, as a professor of public relations, she said that the university did a great job of getting information out quickly, organizing press conferences and releasing updated information.

Even though it was a tragic event and classes and campus life went on, Professor Locke and the events of that day were not and will not be forgotten. The serenity garden in front of Kimpel Hall is in Locke’s honor, and there will always be the Traveler archive lest we forget.