Babblin' Brooks: In memory of the Hrubys

It was just like any other Monday - or so I thought - 10 years ago when I arrived to work at The Marlow Review on Oct. 13, 2014.

The end of the previous week had been somewhat odd. Our boss, John Hruby, had not shown up the previous Friday. Someone in the office had tried to reach out to him, but there had been no response. We thought since it was the weekend of the Oklahoma-Texas football game the family may have decided to go down to Dallas and he hadn’t been near his phone. He was the boss. He owed us no explanation for his absence, so we went about our daily routines. 

On Monday I made my usual drive toward Duncan down Highway 81 for the Stephens County Commissioners meeting. I would pass him driving the opposite way toward the office in his familiar pickup truck on most Mondays. That day, though, I didn’t see his truck.

I discovered the courthouse was closed when I arrived. It hit me that it was Columbus Day so there would be no meeting.

I was still mad at myself for wasting the time and gas for the trip to Duncan when I arrived back at the office. I passed by the desk of one of my co-workers who was on the office phone. She was visibly upset. I asked her what was wrong. She said, “I think John and Tinker are dead.” 

In shock, I sank to the ground with my back against the wall.  

When we got the confirmation that they, along with their daughter Katherine, had been murdered in their home, we locked the office door. The four of us had no idea if the murders had been personal or newspaper-related. If it was the latter, we could be next. I called the police department and asked them to keep an eye on us throughout the day just in case. I tried thinking of stories we had run that would cause a person to commit such an atrocious act. I could not think of one.  

Despite everything that happened, and with the employees still in shock, we were determined to put a newspaper out that week. That meant leaving the office to get news. 

Later in the day as word started to spread, we made a Facebook post as a staff confirming the report. 

As the day wore on and more and more media began calling, the journalist in me told me we could not keep silent. I thought it would be hypocritical to refuse to talk to the press. If this had happened somewhere else, I would be doing the same thing they are. I started to agree to do interviews on Tuesday.

I was in my office Tuesday morning conducting an interview with a reporter from The Duncan Banner. Afterward, as I escorted her out to the door, the lobby, which had been empty the last time I had been there, was full of reporters and photographers from newspapers and television stations.

It was not something I was used to. I was the one who asked questions and got information. I was supposed to be the messenger.

We spent the better part of Tuesday afternoon doing interviews with newspapers and television stations talking about the Hruby family. 

Another issue was the newspaper the next day. After spending the better part of Tuesday doing interviews, I still had a lot of writing to do. Some of it was related to the murders of John, Tinker and their daughter Katherine and others were not.

I spent all night at the office writing stories and uploading photographs. In the early morning hours, I went home to get breakfast, take a shower, put on some fresh clothes, and went back to the office.

We got the paper out on time. I was so proud of our team of four. We each had a job to do and all four of us did them well despite our emotions. There was no boss to lead us, we were equals. We each did what we were trained to do. We had people later tell us that they would have understood if we had not put out a newspaper that week. That thought never entered any of our minds. We knew John would have wanted us to put out a paper.

On Wednesday, pictures and the story were on the front page of The Oklahoman and The Tulsa World. It was surreal. I was numb and just going through the daily motions. 

When the news of what happened started to be pieced together, it was even more shocking as a family member, Alan Hruby, was responsible for the three murders.

Much of what happened after that is a blur. The community support was great. People sent us lunch at the office for two straight weeks. A makeshift memorial was set up outside the office.

It was the most stressful month of work in my life. We didn’t know what would happen to us, but we kept showing up for work. Many months later things started to get sorted out.  

One by one over the next few years, each of us four remaining employees would go on to do other things, but we will always have that bond of surviving together. We will always remember John, Tinker and Katherine.