Federation-shootings hero proud of what she did, credits her crisis training

Standing in the doorway of her office, face to face with the man who had just shot five of her co-workers, Dayna Klein made a split-second decision that may have saved the life of her unborn baby.

Sensing that the man might shoot at her belly, Klein's left arm flew down to protect the child she had carried for 17 weeks. The bullet tore through her arm and grazed her leg.

Klein collapsed in pain, but she knew she needed to phone for help despite the gunman's threat to kill anyone inside the Jewish Federation of Greater Seattle who did so.

She crawled several feet back into her office and dialed 91l. Almost immediately the gunman returned and this time he aimed his handgun at her head, according to King County prosecutors.

"I knew I had to reach a phone and call 911. The pain was horrible, but it was worth the gamble to me," said Klein, speaking publicly Tuesday for the first time since the July 28 shootings. "I never thought to get myself up and walk to the door. If someone wants to do that, that's great; that's just not me."

Seattle Police Chief Gil Kerlikowske said Klein's decision to ignore the gunman was heroic. But Klein said she's simply "a person who was in the wrong place and the wrong time."

Klein, 37, considers herself lucky for having survived the shootings, which left one woman dead and five others, including her, with bullet wounds. The Seattle woman credits the years of crisis training she received while working at a Boston-area American Red Cross as the reason why she reacted the way she did when the gunman barged into her office building that Friday afternoon.

Now that she's out of the hospital, Klein is pushing for better workplace training in crisis intervention, using her own experience as a prime example of its value.

With a gun pointed at her head, Klein deliberately spoke "calmly," "slowly," "quietly" and "nicely" to the 911 dispatcher to calm the gunman, who police and prosecutors later identified as Naveed Afzal Haq, 30. She hoped her demeanor would prompt the gunman to take the phone and talk to the dispatcher himself.

The gunman grabbed the phone and began ranting about his hatred of Jews and U.S. foreign policy. Klein sat hunched on the floor thinking about her husband, Erez, and their baby due in January. She tightly wrapped a plastic garbage-can liner and a cotton tote bag around her bleeding arm and avoided making eye contact with the man.

"I wanted him to forget I was there, even though he had the gun at me," Klein said. "I was very, very, very quiet. I tried not to cry. I just took care of my arm."

As Klein tried to stay calm, Haq told the dispatcher to connect him to CNN, according to court papers. When the dispatcher told Haq that she couldn't connect him with the media, he put down his gun, walked outside and surrendered to police, according to court papers.

From the carpeted floor of her office, Klein counted the gunman's footsteps. When she was certain he had left the building, she stood up and quickly walked into the hall in search of survivors.

She found 23-year-old Layla Bush crouched on the floor, sobbing and bleeding profusely from her stomach. Klein said she grabbed a blue infant shirt with the federation's "live generously" slogan printed on it — a gift someone brought Klein for her unborn baby. She pressed the shirt against Bush's stomach.

Klein urged Bush not to move and to stop crying. She then walked back to her office to call authorities again.

"At this point I was on autopilot," Klein recalled.

Within seconds Seattle police stormed the hallway yelling Klein's name, she said. Several of her co-workers came out of hiding and they all ran down the stairs toward the street. In the stairwell, Klein saw the lifeless body of her close friend and federation co-worker Pamela Waechter.

Once on the street, Klein said somebody gave her a hug and told her to run to a nearby Starbucks where medics were waiting. When she got there she said she was loaded onto a backboard and the number "3" was written on her head by medics to keep track of patients.

Bush remains in serious condition at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle. Fellow federation employees, Christina Rexroad, 29, and Cheryl Stumbo, 43, are in satisfactory condition and Carol Goldman, 35, has been released. Waechter, 58, died at the scene.

In addition to aggravated first-degree murder, Haq has been charged with five counts of attempted murder, kidnapping, burglary and malicious harassment. Prosecutors have not said whether they will pursue the death penalty.

In the week and a half since the shootings, Klein said, she has rarely given any thought to Haq. Klein, a major-gifts officer with the federation, said she's focused on her recovery and is unsure whether she'll return to her job. She's in New York visiting family, seeing hand specialists and preparing for an interview this morning on the "Today" show.

"I'm feeling very lucky to be alive, and my baby is alive," Klein said. "I'm just thinking an awful a lot about my friends who are in the hospital and my very good friend Pam Waechter."

Doctors at Harborview said Klein's baby survived the ordeal. Klein said the bullet shattered a bone in her forearm, forcing doctors to insert a metal rod under her skin, and caused partial paralysis in her left hand.

"I know there's anti-Semitism in the world, and it's very sad, but it's very true," she said. "I'm not a person who focuses on hate or focuses on anger. I'm a person who takes this and makes one hell of a glass of lemonade."

That glass of lemonade, she said, is her push for office workers to be better trained to handle crisis situations. She said she received such training when she worked for the Red Cross and believes it helped her respond quickly.

"I see this as an amazing opportunity. I see this as a chance for Seattleites and people across America ... to look at some serious issues about workplace safety, gun control, gun violence and empowerment," Klein said. "I'm happy I was able to do what I was able to do. I'm happy my reaction saved my baby. I'm really proud of what I did."

Jennifer Sullivan: 206-464-8294 or jensullivan@seattletimes.com