Scott Kleber, 62, is one of the oldest doctors in his Midtown Atlanta medical office. He is also the closest to the waiting room. That put him just steps away from Wednesday’s shooting.
“We hunkered down for a few minutes, and I cracked open my door. I hear a cry for help from the waiting room. You can’t let someone who needs help not get help,” said Kleber. “I open the door carefully and gently and I did not see a shooter, but I saw three bodies — three injured. One [had] a gunshot wound to the head. That was near the front desk. She was motionless, and it was pretty clear she succumbed to her gunshot wound. There was a lot of blood from her head.”
Kleber said a second victim with arm and leg wounds was barely moving, but still breathing. Then he saw a third victim, the patient who cried out for help.
“She has a facial gunshot wound. She has blood in her mouth, but she is stable. I just tried to make sure I could stop the bleeding. She and I put pressure on the wound. I reassured her that help was coming.”
Kleber described the scene as “warlike” with “blood everywhere.” He said the last of the injured was a staff member who works the front desk. Somehow, despite her injury, she managed to make it to a back office.
“She is breathing and conscious with a bullet wound from her front abdomen through her back, a through-and-through gunshot wound,” Kleber said. “And there is another employee, who appears to have a graze wound, offering comfort to her co-worker.” Kleber said he reassured the injured woman. “I listened to her lungs. I told her, ‘EMS is coming. Hold tight. People are going to take care of you.’”
Talking to The Washington Post from his home Wednesday night, Kleber wanted to make one thing abundantly clear.
“I am not a hero,” he said, “and I am not reckless. But when I crept out to help people, there were police SWAT teams and security, and they have guns. They are looking for the shooter. I am a lot more comfortable when I have police protecting me.”
Nancy Habif, Kleber’s wife, told The Post she learned of the shooting from the family of a co-worker in her husband’s office. “I knew there was an active shooter, but when I did not hear from my husband, I thought maybe he was shot. I texted him and said I’ve got to hear from you immediately. He called me as he was taking care of the people who were injured to let me know he was okay.”
Amid the carnage in the waiting room, one unforgettable image among many stayed with Kleber in the hours after the shooting.
“There is an elderly woman clutching her chair, distraught and wide-eyed but not histrionic. I went to her several times,” he said. “When we got ushered out of the office and down the elevator, out of the building to a safer space, I touched base with this elderly woman again. She’s okay. I said, ‘I was touched by your bravery,’ and she said, ’I’ve been a patient in your practice for 60 years. I have been treated by three different doctors. You have always taken care of me, and you took care of me today.’”