Coach finds healing a year after Apalachee school shooting

From Atlanta News First

WINDER, Ga. (Atlanta News First) - One year after the horrific shooting at Apalachee High School that left four people dead, including beloved defensive coordinator Ricky “Coach A” Aspinwall, former head football coach Mike Hancock is still healing.

For Hancock, the tragedy was more than a community loss — it was deeply personal. And it ultimately forced him to step away from the job he loved.

“I still don’t remember everything from that day. A lot of it’s a blur,” Hancock said.

He and another P.E. teacher had been running an ultimate frisbee game when the calls came over the walkie-talkie, urging staff to get students inside. They rushed everyone into the football fieldhouse, which became a refuge as the nightmare unfolded. Hours later, Hancock learned Aspinwall had been killed.

A community in mourning

In the days that followed, the football field became a place of mourning.

“We did a vigil one night. People left memorials to the victims on the field. It became a place to remember them,” Hancock recalled.

The team honored Aspinwall with T-shirts bearing his motto: “Effort, Attitude and Trust.” Hancock tried to be strong for his players, parents and fellow coaches. But privately, he was unraveling.

“It was in my nature to take care of everybody else instead of myself,” he said. “I neglected myself.”

Silent struggles

By March, Hancock knew he could no longer continue.

“I was struggling. I was battling,” he admitted. “I didn’t know I had depression. I didn’t know I had PTSD. As a 50-something year old male, those things didn’t happen to me. Or so I thought.”

He stayed home from work some days, pretending to his wife he was still going in.

“I was lying to my wife. I was lying to everybody else thinking I was OK. That was the wake-up call.”

The turning point came when a former colleague texted him a link to a sermon by Gainesville pastor Jentezen Franklin.

“God didn’t create me to live like this,” Hancock realized. “Not to let depression cripple me.”

That sermon pushed him to call his pastor, who connected him with a Christian counselor.

“Sitting down and talking to someone — that’s what Even with support, it wasn’t easy to seek help.

“A lot of times people stereotype football coaches — that we have to be a man’s man,” Hancock said. “Growing up in the 70s, it was ‘Put your big boy pants on and move on.’”

But he learned opening up was the opposite of weakness.

“My legacy isn’t wins and losses. My legacy is showing it’s OK to persevere, to admit you’re struggling,” he said.

Now Hancock makes it a habit to reach out to others, sending texts just to check in.

“People don’t like to talk about their struggles, but if you show that you care, people are going to be more willing to open up,” he said.

Faith, family and a new mission

Hancock credits his faith with giving him perspective.

“I could be bitter at God, or I could say, ‘God, how are you trying to use me?’ If one person goes to seek mental health because of what I’ve been through, that’s a blessing.”

He admits it’s still hard to return to Apalachee’s campus.

“We played a JV game there recently, and I told our head coach, ‘I’m not ready to go back.’ He was respectful of that,” Hancock said. “Time heals all wounds, and there’ll be a time when I have to go back.”

He still grieves for his friend Aspinwall.

“We only had two years together, but I’m thankful for that friendship. I miss seeing him every day.”

Even with support, it wasn’t easy to seek help.

“A lot of times people stereotype football coaches — that we have to be a man’s man,” Hancock said. “Growing up in the 70s, it was ‘Put your big boy pants on and move on.’”

But he learned opening up was the opposite of weakness.

“My legacy isn’t wins and losses. My legacy is showing it’s OK to persevere, to admit you’re struggling,” he said.

Now Hancock makes it a habit to reach out to others, sending texts just to check in.

“People don’t like to talk about their struggles, but if you show that you care, people are going to be more willing to open up,” he said.

Faith, family and a new mission

Hancock credits his faith with giving him perspective.

“I could be bitter at God, or I could say, ‘God, how are you trying to use me?’ If one person goes to seek mental health because of what I’ve been through, that’s a blessing.”

He admits it’s still hard to return to Apalachee’s campus.

“We played a JV game there recently, and I told our head coach, ‘I’m not ready to go back.’ He was respectful of that,” Hancock said. “Time heals all wounds, and there’ll be a time when I have to go back.”

He still grieves for his friend Aspinwall.

“We only had two years together, but I’m thankful for that friendship. I miss seeing him every day.”

For Hancock, that means teaching his players about resilience, faith and compassion.

“Check in on your people,” he said. “There’s somebody in your phone you haven’t talked to in a while. Pick it up, send a text: ‘I’m thinking of you.’ That’s what matters.”

Today, as the one-year mark since the Apalachee tragedy arrives, Hancock says he’ll try to make the day as routine as possible. But he doesn’t shy away from talking about it.

“It’s therapy for me to talk about it,” he said. “And if by sharing, someone else gets the help they need — that’s why I’m here.”