“Let’s just rush in because the cops aren’t doing anything like they are supposed to,” he said. Upset that police were not moving in, he raised the idea of charging into the school with several other bystanders. Javier Cazares, whose fourth grade daughter, Jacklyn Cazares, was killed in the attack, said he raced to the school when he heard about the shooting, arriving while police were still gathered outside the building. Carranza said the officers did not go in. “Go in there! Go in there!” nearby women shouted at the officers soon after the attack began, said Juan Carranza, 24, who saw the scene from outside his house, across the street from Robb Elementary School in the close-knit town of Uvalde. by Anonymousįrustrated onlookers urged police officers to charge into the Texas elementary school where a gunman’s rampage killed 19 children and two teachers, witnesses said Wednesday, as investigators worked to track the massacre that lasted upwards of 40 minutes and ended when the 18-year-old shooter was killed by a Border Patrol team. It may be an unusual trajectory for someone who played moog synthesizer in a popular alternative rock band, but, given the politics of people in her generation, it actually might not be unusual at all.
Now, 20 years later, after getting inspired to enter politics by former President Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign, Westrich is a solidly conservative state representative from blue-collar southeast Iowa who is pro-gun and anti-vaccine mandate. She worked for Flea, played with Spike Jonze in her first band and turned down the opportunity to appear on “Jackass.” But she’s perhaps best known for playing keyboard with the Rentals, a ‘90s band that scored a single hit with the song “Friends of P.” while touring the world with performers like Blur and Alanis Morissette. The first term Iowa Republican was a Zelig-like figure in ‘90s pop culture. Both their tour of the Iowa State Capitol and brief excursion into ‘90s nostalgia were over.īut, for Westrich, neither was. The children laugh politely, and then it is time for them to go back to their school bus. “Well so, you guys know who Madonna is? Madonna signed my band to her record label, and we toured all around the world and got to play all the big coliseums like Madison Square Garden, and then we had videos - you guys know about MTV? - we had two of them, and you can still find them online from a long time ago back in the 1900s.” Westrich then tries to explain her past to the school group of children too young to remember Kanye West at the VMAs, let alone the mid-90s alternative rock scene.
“She was in a famous rock band when she was young you can find the videos on YouTube.”
It’s a school group from his district but he had left Westrich babysitting them for a few minutes. Just then, another legislator, Steve Holt, interrupts with a smirk.
Her audience is a group of about two dozen middle school-aged kids seated on the floor in the back corner of the room. Westrich, a petite cheery blonde, is just finishing up explaining how a lawmaker can summon a legislative page to their desk if they have a specific request to add to a bill. The state Legislature is out of session, and only a handful of members are lazing about the chamber catching up on correspondence. It’s a drowsy rainy Thursday at the Iowa State Capitol, and Iowa State Representative Cherielynn Westrich is speaking to a school group about how a bill becomes a law.