Santana High School's Class of 2001 marks a bittersweet graduation, recalling March's deadly shooting while looking to the future. 'We've evolved into one school, one heart,' says Principal Karen Degischer.

June 15, 2001

Since tragedy struck Santana High School three months ago, students and faculty have grieved together and healed together.

At graduation last night, 377 seniors received diplomas and three teachers retired, and for one last time, they were together.

Many were joyous as they strode forward in their lives. Others weren't quite ready to abandon the Santana community cocoon.

It was a bittersweet year of heartache and happiness.

On the morning of March 5, a student fired randomly from the doorway of a boys' bathroom on campus, killing freshman Bryan Zuckor and senior Randy Gordon. Thirteen others were wounded.

"Of course, it's more difficult with this graduation," said Karen Degischer, principal of the school for the past 21/2 years. "We've been through a lot together, and we've gained a lot of strength from each other. We've evolved into one school, one heart."

Following the Santana attack, several students received e-mail threats. A second school shooting at Granite Hills High in El Cajon, in which five people were wounded, occurred within weeks.

Since then, students, parents, school staff and the Santee community have tried to help each other cope with the tragedy.

The signs of healing were visible in photo murals ringing the football stadium where the ceremony was held.

For "Reflections of Hope," seniors, faculty and staff took photographs of the people, places and moments that inspired them -- a couple on a bridge in a park, a group of friends at the prom, a pet cat.

Before the seniors marched into the stadium, they had to pass through a gate guarded by a security dog. The staff also checked for alcohol.

About 3,000 friends and family members attended; local and out-of-town media showed up; and a band of protesters flew in from Topeka, Kan., for the publicity.

Ten members of the Westboro Baptist Church held signs and said accepting gays in public schools created moral problems that led to the shooting.

Largely ignored by passers-by, the protesters were watched closely by 11 sheriff's deputies and two members of the Gay Straight Alliance at Granite Hills High School, who held signs touting tolerance.

That theme of acceptance echoed in valedictorian Aemon Cannon's address after he walked to the podium amid raucous applause.

"The Class of 2001 has not and never will be ruled by hate," he said.

Aemon, who wants to be an illustrator of children's books, plans to go to the University of California Santa Barbara, where he has been offered a full scholarship.

He took seven advanced placement courses this year, as many as his schedule would allow. He's a juggler on the side.

"Youth should be like running as fast as you can, always straining to see over the next hill, never wondering if you have gone too far," he said. "But there was a day not so long ago when we all forgot what it meant to be innocent."

He went on to say: "There was a time when we watched two sparrows fall and could do nothing but try to imagine how it could happen to us, happen here."

Aemon confided before the ceremony that many people wouldn't get the sparrow reference from a soliloquy in "Hamlet." In talking about the sparrow, the Prince of Denmark refers to how humans cannot divine God's plan and can't foresee what will happen.

It was Aemon's reference to the March 5 shooting and to Bryan and Randy.

In Randy's place, his mother, Mari Gordon-Rayborn, donned a purple cap and gown and filed in with the other graduates to receive his diploma.

"Randy Michael Kerchner-Gordon" was the first name read aloud as the students lined up to accept their diplomas. As 16 white birds were released into the sky, Randy's mom took the certificate and hugged Degischer.

The graduates erupted, showering emotion upon Gordon-Rayborn, who was now one of them.

The day before the ceremony, graduates talked about the bad times, but also the good.

"We've gone through a lot, but we all will succeed," said Michele Bean, one of the founders of the Santana Peace Council.

This year's Nominating Convention, held every year in the spring, was April 2. An entire day is devoted to speeches from students seeking student government positions.

"It helped people get back in the groove. It was a turning point," said Michaela Shepard.

Students laughed about a senior prank earlier this week that turned the lunch quad into a beach for the day. There was sand, black, yellow-and-white and blue-and-white striped beach chairs, two rattan mats, a partially constructed sand castle and a purple bucket.

They reminisced about their four years.

Memories of freshman year for this class of 2001 centered on a float shaped like a pirate's treasure chest that they built for homecoming. Construction took place on the back patio of the art room. After the class crushed hundreds of cans and sprayed them gold, the students realized they had a problem. It was too big, and they had to remove the fence from the teacher's patio to get it out.

Sophomore year was a time of branching out from friendships formed in elementary and middle school, said Heather Habina.

Junior year was Camp Minitown, a four-day convention on diversity, and the "dream season" for the football team, which won back the coveted Mayor's Cup from arch rival West Hills High across town. They remembered going to the CIF semifinals.

The French Club went to Paris in April; the seniors celebrated their prom at Loews Coronado Bay Resort in May.

The last time just the seniors could be together came after graduation, when they boarded buses for a trip to Disneyland.

In his valedictory speech, Aemon gave them this advice: "Being a senior is realizing how far you've come, and at the same time being wise enough to see how much further you have to go.

"Life is a book and you are its author. Take care that you write a beautiful story."

Staff writer Matthew T. Hall contributed to this report.