Teresa Scalzo, formerly of Easton, works at the base as a civilian attorney for the U.S. Navy.
Teresa ScalzoFrom her office window, Teresa Scalzo could see a commotion at the Washington Navy Yard.
Scalzo, an Easton native who works as a civilian attorney for the U.S. Navy, watched as people scurried outside her first-floor office window on the military base Monday morning.
“We were trying to figure out if it was a drill and a police officer waved for us to get back,” she said. “That’s when it got pretty chaotic.”
Within minutes, word came from a colleague whose spouse was in a different building where a gunman opened fire. Several gunshots had been heard.
Scalzo was among thousands at the Navy Yard locked down Monday after a shooting rampage left 13 people dead, including the gunman.
“It’s scary but you’re trying not to be scared, so it’s kind of surreal,” said Scalzo, a former assistant district attorney in Northampton County who now works as a sex crimes prosecution expert for the U.S. Navy. “I think what frightened me the most was having the helicopter above.”
Scalzo’s office building on the base is about two blocks from where authorities say 34-year-old Navy reservist Aaron Alexis slaughtered 12 people.
When she realized media reports of the developments began to spread, Scalzo said, her thoughts turned to her family and letting them know she was OK.
“As soon as it made the news, I called my mom,” said Scalzo. She knew her mother, Marie Scalzo, of Palmer Township, would be worried. So, too, was her brother, Easton police Chief Carl Scalzo.
She spoke to them frequently throughout the tension-filled day.
“Between text and phone calls, it must have been about 50 times,” she said.
“In my building we were very lucky,” said Scalzo, 44, a 1986 graduate of Easton Area High School. “They let us stay. We had our computers and our cellphones. I had (communication with) my mother and my brother all day.”
Family watching news accounts back in the Lehigh Valley actually had a better idea than Scalzo about what was transpiring not far from her office building.
“I didn’t want to watch it,” she said. “We were mostly getting information from the Internet.
“We didn’t really have a concept about what was going on on the other side of the base with all the armored cars and people.”
The Washington Navy Yard was closed today. Scalzo said she doesn’t expect to return until later this week at best.
It took several hours for employees to leave the base because they were funneled through a central location to be questioned before being bused off the premises.
She got home to Alexandria, Va., about 8 o'clock Monday night.
As the day started to unfold earlier, she said, her first impressions were that the gunfire was a case of domestic or workplace violence -- not terrorism, she said.
“I don’t know if that was because of my training,” said Scalzo. “I never really thought of us as a target. I didn’t even think of terrorism until we started hearing news reports that there may have been three potential shooters.”
The stories of some of those who died started to surface today. Scalzo said she did not know any of those identified as victims, but was finding today tougher to deal with repercussions of the tragedy than the day it happened.
“(On Monday) I was focused on trying to stay safe,” she said. “Today it’s much worse because I wasn't in the mode of ‘I’m going to get through this' anymore.
“When the fear subsides, you wake up and you think ‘Wow, that was really frightening.' It just kind of hits you -- the adrenaline is gone and emotions take its place.”