Survivors of Texas house of worship attacks deal with renewed trauma after Beth Israel

When Britt Farmer heard four people were taken hostage at a synagogue in Colleyville Saturday, he had one immediate prayer — please don’t let this happen to them, too.

In December 2019, a gunman stepped into West Freeway Church of Christ in White Settlement and, as the collection plate was passed through the pews, pulled out a long gun. He shot Richard White, who was sitting in a pew and reaching for the gun in his waistband. The shooter turned and shot Anton Wallace, who was holding a collection plate, before Jack Wilson, a member of the church’s security team, fired a single shot from down the aisle and killed the gunman.

As he watched the hostage situation at Congregation Beth Israel unfold Saturday, Farmer found himself reliving the moments when he stood at the front of the church and watched two of his friends die.

“I really didn’t watch it, I couldn’t listen to it,” he said. “I kept up with the paper and just started praying, but I could not put myself through watching that and just reliving everything we had to go through.”

Attacks on houses of worship have become tragically familiar. The violence does not discriminate — a Sikh temple in Wisconsin, a mosque in Canada and predominantly Black churches in the South have all been targets.

Each new act of violence ripples out from the people at the center, spreading renewed trauma to those who survived previous attacks. On Saturday, Beth Israel joined the growing ranks of Texans who were attacked on sacred ground — a form of violence that seems to especially shatter any sense of security a community might have.

Other attacks

The Rev. Jeff Laster, 57, has unfortunately seen numerous houses of worship go through what his own Fort Worth church experienced in 1999. Laster, who was a seminary student at the time, was standing near the doors at Wedgwood Baptist Church when a gunman walked inside and started shooting. Laster was shot in the stomach. After 10 minutes of shooting, the shooter turned the gun on himself. Seven people were dead and seven more were injured.

Laster said seeing any kind of violence is tragic, but “when your church or your synagogue is not a safe place, I think that really hits deeper.”

“That was the thing with Wedgwood,” he said. “In 1999, (shootings) had happened in some schools, some churches, but not as widely known... It used to be thought of as a hallowed ground type place. It seems like it’s open game now, as well.”

Farmer, who was the minister at West Freeway at the time of the shooting, said he and his wife spent Saturday together, praying and texting others about Beth Israel.

“I was just asking God not to let that happen again to them,” said Farmer, who became the pulpit minister at Aledo Church of Christ in April.

Seeing news that a gunman was once again attacking a house of worship was difficult for Stephen Willeford, too. Willeford’s name was plastered across news reports in November 2017 when he helped take down a gunman in Sutherland Springs.

On Nov. 5, 2017, First Baptist Church of Sutherland Springs became the site of Texas’ deadliest mass shooting to date. A gunman opened fire on the congregation and 27 people were killed, including the gunman and an unborn child.

Willeford wasn’t a congregant at the time, but lived nearby. With his rifle, sharp shooting and the help of a stranger in a pickup truck, Willedford chased the shooter down. The gunman died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head, according to Texas Monthly.

Watching the hostage situation at Beth Israel was hard on Willeford.

“It’s a hard thing again and again and again realizing how much evil there is in this world,” he said.

Beth Israel’s trauma

It took Laster a month in the hospital to physically recover from his gunshot wound. He worries that those at Beth Israel face an even more challenging recovery.

“Ours happened so quick. Obviously people were killed and injured, but you didn’t have a whole lot of time to think about it,” Laster said. “I cannot imagine sitting there for hours with some guy with a gun not knowing if he’s going to let you go or if you’re going to have time to escape or if he’s going to kill you. Even though they were physically unharmed, but mentally, what struggle are they going to have?”

The shooting at Wedgwood, while traumatizing for Fort Worth and the church congregation, was not an attack on the Christian faith, Laster said. Based on Malik Akram’s antisemitic tirade while holding four men hostage at the synagogue for almost 11 hours, the attack on Beth Israel was fueled by prejudice and antisemitism. That has caused trauma not just for the synagogue and Colleyville community, but for Jewish people across the country and around the world.

“It was maybe not directed at that synagogue, but it was definitely directed at the Jewish people and the Jewish faith,” Laster said. “There are a lot of people in the world who hate Jews and attack synagogues and so you’ve got a lot of different levels of hate going on there. You’ve got innocent people in Colleyville, but because they’re Jewish, it was attacked.”

Jeffrey Cohen, one of the men held hostage at Beth Israel, told the Star-Telegram on Monday that Akram ranted about Jewish people controlling the country. He believed by holding Jewish people hostage, he would hold leverage with the U.S. government, Cohen said.

Halie Soifer, CEO of the Jewish Democratic Council of America, said in an interview with the Star-Telegram Sunday that she, and many Jewish people in the U.S., felt “unsettled” by the attack on Beth Israel.

“It could have been any of our synagogues,” she said. “It’s both a recognition of that and a fear. Of which community could be next.”

Recovery?

In the two years since the West Freeway shooting, Farmer has reckoned with healing, forgiveness and grief. He encouraged members of Congregation Beth Israel to rely on one another and accept the help others offer them.

After the shooting, Farmer said, he focused on looking out for others in his congregation and neglected his own mental health. He urged those at Beth Israel to seek counseling and recovery as soon as possible for themselves.

“There were some things I needed to do not only to continue my job, but just to walk through life,” Farmer said. “There are a lot of opportunities for help, and it doesn’t weaken us, it makes us stronger.”

Willeford, who now attends First Baptist Church of Sutherland Springs, said he helps other churches set up safety response teams. He suggested everyone have training in firearms, as well as safety measures like CPR and first aid.

The support from the Fort Worth community and other churches helped Laster and his church heal after the 1999 shooting. He said he hopes Colleyville and other synagogues will be able to offer Beth Israel connections to counseling so they can talk through their trauma. He said some people in his congregation did not process the attack until months later, and immediate counseling could have helped them earlier on.

“It’s sometimes easier to heal from a physical injury than from a mental one,” he said.

Staff writer Elly Dearman contributed to this report.