Visitors read the raised bronze letters of the Columbine Memorial plaques in whispers, asking questions to God, survivors, the community, and each other.

The confusion still hangs in the air, blending with the sounds of current events. The headlines and sound bites ring in your ears as you run your hand along the rough red sandstone wall built into the side of a hill where students once gathered before football games, after class, and in times of joy. After the massacre, the hill became a rallying point for students and community members to find news of those murdered or injured, to look down upon the school in horror, or to display handmade memorials of sorrow.

I was recently assigned by Education Week to visit the Columbine Memorial to make portraits of Frank DeAngelis, who was Columbine High School’s principal during the 1999 shooting. His commentary, published this week, addresses the complex emotions that go along with not only being in a leadership position during the shooting but long after the physical destruction.

“Frank DeAngelis was 43 and in his third year leading Columbine High School when normal life ended forever with what was then the deadliest school shooting in the nation's history. DeAngelis drew on his Catholic faith, his family and friends, and therapy to return to the school, determined to keep alive the memory of "the beloved 13" who were killed that day and rebuild the spirit of the school.

The toll on him included his first marriage and, for a while, his health. After the shootings, he poured even more hours than before into increasing feelings of connection, attending as many school events as possible and reaching out to disaffected students.”

DeAngelis’ phone is constantly ringing or buzzing with messages, especially as the state and world read and watch anniversary articles stream across their feeds. It’s obviously not the path he intended his life to travel. Along that path, he carries the baggage of guilt and sorrow.

To this day, on every April 20, DeAngelis calls each family who lost a loved one and each former student who was injured in the shooting. He spends his time speaking to educators and to groups across the county who intersect with schools around safety concerns. And he continues to reach out to survivors of school shootings, especially principals and students, telling them that they need to find their support system for the long haul, as he did.

“I've had a lot of survivor's guilt,” he says.