One Year After the Attack on CDC: a poem of resistance and remembrance
On the first anniversary of the deadly shooting attack at CDC, epidemiologist and poet Maeve O’Reilly shares a poem.
Content warning: This article contains descriptions of the August 8, 2025 shooting attack at CDC’s Roybal Campus.
We revisit our series of 💌Love Letters to Public Health with a poem to mark the one-year anniversary of the attack on CDC, in which DeKalb County Police Officer David Rose was killed while responding to protect CDC employees and others on campus. Full-time CDC epidemiologist and part-time poet Maeve O’Reilly shares her writing in honor and memory of Officer Rose.
Tomorrow marks one year since the deadly attack at CDC’s Roybal Campus, the US federal public health agency’s main headquarters in Atlanta. First and foremost, let’s remember and honor Officer Rose, who was killed in the line of duty while protecting others that day. My thoughts remain with his family, loved ones, and colleagues. The words “thank you” feel wholly inadequate in the face of such sacrifice.
As a CDC employee, I was not on campus that day, but many of my colleagues were there, including some who witnessed the attack and others who spent many hours under lockdown while law enforcement secured the campus. Although my role at CDC did not require me to report daily to the Roybal Campus, it was a place I knew well and worked from frequently. The trauma reverberated through our CDC workforce far beyond those physically present that day. Many of my colleagues returned daily for months to a workplace where visible reminders of the attack remained, including damage from bullet holes and doors destroyed during the security response to clear the building. For many of us, the trauma has been compounded by the absence of meaningful acknowledgement from national leaders. To this day, we have not heard from the White House any recognition of the devastating attack on a federal public health agency and the people who continue to serve there.
Anniversaries like this can bring up many different emotions. Some readers may find today’s poem comforting. Others may find it difficult. There is no right or wrong way to respond, and if today is not the right day for you to read it, that’s okay.
Today’s contribution offers one person’s reflection on the shooting and its aftermath. It does not seek to represent the experiences of everyone affected. Rather, it adds one voice to the growing record of how this moment has been experienced across the public health workforce.
Like every article in The Public Health Workforce is Not OK newsletter, this piece is offered as an invitation to conversation and reflection. Thank you for continuing to trust this community with your stories. If this piece inspires you to reflect or share your own experience, I would be honored to hear from you. Please get in touch.
One year after the attack on CDC: a poem of resistance and remembrance - 💌Love Letters to Public Health #15
By Maeve O’Reilly, PhD, MS (She/They)
Author’s note:
This poem is an act of resistance to erasure.
It refuses to minimize or silence what happened and documents one lived experience of the August 8, 2025 shooting at CDC’s Roybal Campus and its aftermath. I was not on campus that day, and I do not attempt to represent the many different experiences of those who were. Rather, this poem reflects what it was like to witness the attack from afar while fearing for friends and colleagues whose safety I could not immediately confirm.
Like many people, I have spent the past year trying to make sense of the shooting, the silence that followed, and the attacks on public health and its workforce that continue today. I found that many of my strongest emotions were rooted in care: care for the people I work alongside, care for the integrity of our work, and care for the mission that brought so many of us into public health in the first place. This poem is also an invitation to explore this connection and care as one possible source of healing.
If this poem resonates with you, I hope it reminds you that you are not alone, especially tomorrow. If it does not reflect your own experience, I hope it still serves as a reminder that you are not alone and that there is no single correct way in which to carry grief or mark this anniversary.
Thank you to the friends and colleagues who have carried me through this past year. I hope these words honor, in some small way, the care that has sustained so many of us.
One year after the attack on CDC
I. Let us name what happened, since the ones we need to simply will not. Domestic Terror Attack Almost Mass Shooting Driven by lies about liberty and shots. pinging messages in my kitchen no way this is real almost can’t process the spider cracks bullet hole in the glass of a window that I know my mind it implodes myracingthoughtsthumbs frantic,searching forSignalsoflife my phone, a faulty vital signs monitor ————flat-line————— until proven otherwise 500 rounds of misinformation — misplaced blame a decorated officer, husband, father collapsed to the ground sent early to his grave and the shooter the shooter he writes his own End. II. In the after — buried whispers, not even the usual thoughts and prayers. Leaders demanding fealty to lies (that got us into this mess) and then insisted on marching past the scattered glass before we could even catch our breath. I mean, you don’t just move on from something like that. III. Now it’s one year later and the shots never stopped. We’re hitting walls before justice, and sometimes I just feel so damn lost. But I refuse to lose the audacity to care. I crack open my chest and love what is there. Love grief, love outrage, love doubt, love hate — let myself feel their Mack truck weight. Hug my threenager heart until the tantrums subside. Until I can see that pain it’s my care. If I reach out my hand, will you help raise me up? I’ll be there for you on the days you can’t fake it. I don’t know yet where this is going or the totality of what we lost. The only thing that I’m sure of is that together we can make it.
“Maeve O’Reilly” is a pseudonym for a current CDC employee who wishes to remain anonymous to protect their privacy. The author wishes to honor and remember Officer David Rose and his sacrifice to protect people they deeply care for. They also hold space for a future where our government’s highest officials appropriately acknowledge this tragedy, what led to it, and the injustice of the aftermath.
The views expressed here are those of the author and do not represent the views of any organization, employer, or institution with which they are affiliated.
Action steps
All newsletter authors are invited to share action steps to address their priorities. We compile all suggestions into the Resistance Action page.
On this anniversary, first and foremost, please take care of yourself and seek any support that you need. Anniversaries of traumatic events can bring up many different emotions, and there is no single right way to respond. Give yourself permission to acknowledge whatever this day brings up for you.
If you would like to use your voice to honor Officer Rose, support the public health workforce, or stand up for the values that guide public service, consider taking the following steps:
Be present for your colleagues if you are able. Crises end, but trauma lingers long after. Check on your CDC colleagues and others who have been affected. If you are a manager or leader at CDC, create an environment of patience, care, and compassion for staff who may be struggling to recover after the shooting, with this anniversary, or with the sustained attacks on their life’s work. Consider how you can create space for staff to process, connect, and seek support without judgment.
Show your care for the public health workforce, who have worked through sustained attacks over the last year and a half. Help remind them that their work and commitment are still worth recognizing. Share a message here.
Remember and honor Officer David Rose in whatever way feels right to you. Take a moment to recognize Officer Rose’s sacrifice as he responded to protect others at CDC’s Roybal Campus. In the Atlanta area, pay your respects by visiting and adding to the memorial for Officer Rose at the main entrance to CDC Roybal Campus at 1600 Clifton Rd NE. Elsewhere, you can leave a message of remembrance here. (Click on “WRITE A REFLECTION” beneath Officer Rose’s picture.)
Use your voice to support evidence-based public health. Reports indicate that misinformation about COVID-19 vaccines played a role in motivating the attack. Misinformation can cause real-world harm, undermine trust, and place public servants at risk. Exercise your power and right to hold your representatives accountable. Support and vote for leaders and policies grounded in evidence, expertise, and respect for public service.
Reach out and reconnect. One of the strongest protections we have after trauma is community. Send a message to a colleague, reconnect with someone you have lost touch with, or create space for conversations about what this anniversary means.
Photo: In memory of Office David Rose, Officer Down Memorial Page
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I close by emphasising what I said in a previous newsletter:
“At this time of uncertainty for the public health workforce, let’s remember our commitment to science and evidence and data. We know that validating emotions and baggage has a place too, but we need to be able to identify them and distinguish opinion from fact.
Let’s recommit to kindness and mutual support for the public health workforce and beyond. If leaders are trying to sow divisions among us, the best we can do is to respond with empathy, and by strengthening, connecting, and lifting up one another.
Right now, the best I can offer my fellow public health professionals is a place* to gather and reflect and share and vent and organize and ask questions and offer support to one another. We’re going to need that now more than ever.”
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Thank you for focusing on this tragic event and calling it out for what it was. Thank you Maeve O'Reilly for such a poignant poem. It made me cry. Please don't let them take your audacity to care! ❤️🩹❤️🩹💓💓