Jeff and Tammy
BREAKING: Mass shooting. Alerts like these are jarring for everyone even though they’ve sadly become so much more frequent. You don’t have to have been involved to understand the horror of such a traumatic event. For Tammy Roberts – it was just such a tragedy that changed her life forever. On the morning of June 5, 2017, the former Central Florida elementary school teacher was home, enjoying a quiet morning as she was easing into her first day of summer break. Her husband, Jeff, had already left for his job at the small manufacturing company where he worked. As Tammy happily puttered about the house with the TV on in the background, she heard a news announcement about a workplace shooting in Orlando.
“When they said where it was, I knew. Nobody had to tell me.” The crime took place at Fiamma Awnings, a small Italian-owned manufacturing warehouse where Jeff had worked for seven years and was just transitioning into his new role as manager. The lives of Jeff and four other employees were taken in a matter of seconds that morning.
Tammy quickly called her son, Cory, who had not yet heard about what had happened. Cory immediately came to the house to be with his mother. Not yet having been notified officially by anyone, they relied on news reports live from the scene to find out what little they could. “We were glued to the TV,” Tammy recalls. When they heard announcements by law enforcement directing family members to a location to gather, they dashed over, driving through a scrum of news reporters who were already there ahead of them. But even then, still without confirmation, Tammy knew that her college sweetheart, the man she married at age 20, was gone. “I had tried to call him; he didn’t answer. I knew.”
As shocking as this tragedy was, Tammy previously had an inkling in the back of her mind about the possibility of this very thing happening and by the person who eventually killed her husband. Just months earlier, Jeff had shared with Tammy that he’d terminated an employee with a long history of problematic behavior at work. Tammy was aware of the ongoing issues that led to his termination and asked Jeff about the chances of the worker coming back with a gun. Jeff dismissed her anxious inquiry saying the guy was angry but “he wouldn’t do that.” “A few months later, he did,” Tammy confirms.
“When they said where it was, I knew.
Nobody had to tell me.”
Tammy, who speaks softly by nature, calmly recounts the events of that unthinkable day as well as what happened in the days that followed; she remembers it all. While she and her son waited with others to confirm what they anticipated, news media had already swarmed her house, the neighbors’ homes and had even called Jeff’s parents in Oklahoma as they trying to absorb the horror of what they had been told just moments before. “The deputies even helped us cover our license tags so media couldn’t identify us, but they were already at our house.”
She vividly remembers the panic she felt knowing it was her grandson’s first day staying at home on his own and prayed that he did not turn on the TV and see what had happened to his beloved grandfather. If any luck was to be had that day, it was this; Tammy’s son and daughter-in-law were close friends with one of the area’s highest-profile news anchors who was covering the story in real time. Their friend graciously kept their youngster with her own children in her home, respecting and honoring her friends’ desperate need for privacy.
Today, seven years later, the circumstances of Jeff’s death remain unimaginable, but clear. And so are Tammy’s memories of her husband and the life they cherished together. “It was good. It was easy.” When they first met in college, “It was like we had known each other forever. If felt like we were supposed to be together. We just clicked.” When she describes Jeff, she smiles, and laughs, remembering that some people felt the over six-foot tall man looked intimidating, when he was actually just a ”teddy bear.” He played every sport in school, including All-State Football. She also remembers his enormous laugh, fabulous sense of humor and work ethic.
“He followed the rules. He was responsible, a hard worker and he cared deeply for his friends and family. ”
Jeff was deeply curious about things. He liked learning. He discovered online poker and played successfully until he eventually lost interest. For a time, he became so engaged in and proficient at raising orchids, he launched a successful blog under the pseudonym Ellen Reader and actually developed a significant fan base. “I have no idea where the name came from,” she laughs. “When he wanted to do something, he just learned about it and went and did it.”
Tammy says her near 40-year life with Jeff was clearly unfinished – they had big plans. They were going to retire, sell their home, get an RV and take their time to drive around the country together. Their plans were real and exciting. Yet like every other surviving spouse, Tammy’s entire life was changed forever. She had to create a new plan and find a new way to live—without her best friend and for the first time ever, on her own.
Jeff’s confidence, and Tammy’s years in a classroom, gave her the strength to figure out a way forward after she lost her mate for life. That first summer she was gutted; Jeff was gone, and she wasn’t working. She was left with empty hours, a shattered heart swirling in profound grief. She returned to the classroom in the fall to the awkward reactions of others who were uncomfortable about the trauma Tammy was experiencing.
“Everybody knew so it wasn’t like I had to explain. Everybody knew.” Tammy recalls one particularly difficult moment at the start of the school season. “Every year they made us watch videos about active assailants. Well, I couldn’t do it. I walked out.” She says, “Many friends and colleagues came running after me to make sure I was okay.” It was also difficult when she began interacting with parents of her students. “I could kind of feel the pity or whatever. It wasn’t in a negative way, but I mean I could feel that.”
Despite friends telling her to hold off making any kind of big decision, Tammy began to proceed with the plan she built with Jeff – she sold their home. “I just couldn’t stay in that house.” She moved to a small retirement community that to her surprise brought respite, solitude and comfort as she continued to teach and find her footing alone.
Shortly after, Cory moved his family back to Missouri where Tammy and Jeff had started their lives together. She decided to leave Florida and follow them about a year later. Once again, she bought a small house and continued the adjustment of living and being alone. Today she spends a good deal of time with her grandson which brings her great joy. She says she loves that at age 17, Alex has “a keen entrepreneurial spirt.” Another tangible change — she’s also had to resume living in a colder climate, “I’m wearing socks,” she jokes.
Like many surviving spouses, Tammy says she understands why others feel uncomfortable about Jeff’s passing, but due to his tragic death, she also feels the pressure of having to comfort others and minimize their awkward feelings.
She also shares that shortly after Jeff’s death she was approached by various advocacy groups to tell her story, requests she turned down. “I don’t really want to be public with all of it. You know, every time there’s another shooting, I am sick to my stomach and I can’t watch it. It just brings it all back and I feel it all again.
What Tammy does value and embrace is when people talk about Jeff. “When someone says something about him, I’m so appreciative. One friend told me that she admired our relationship and I cried for about a half day, but those kinds of things I want to hear.”
The tragedy remains with her always. “I was angry for a long time. Jeff will never see our grandson grow up,” she says. “I will never be the same. Part of me is gone. I can function and be okay, but I will never be totally happy again and I’m okay with that.”
