Ferris City Manager Brooks Williams
CBS News Texas
After the death of a 17-year-old and the arrest of five individuals, Williams said he's been fielding many questions from concerned residents.
"I do believe that people, when there's tragedy, look at government," he said.
However, Williams stressed that local government alone cannot prevent such incidents. In
a recent statement widely shared throughout the city, he spoke candidly about the limits of government intervention.
"We needed to have a very plain conversation with the public about if you're looking for the government to solve your problems, you're looking in the wrong place," he said. "I think about my kids. I think about their safety, and there's not a thing I wouldn't do for people in this community."
City
strengthens unified safety response
Williams said the city remains committed to public safety. He noted that multiple security cameras at the park are aiding the investigation, and the city is pursuing additional safety measures.
"We went from separated units in terms of EMS, police, and fire, and that's now a unified group under the Department of Public Safety, triple certified," he
said.
Technology aids, but families key
Ferris has also adopted new technology, including artificial intelligence tools to detect weapons. Still, Williams said these measures are only part of the solution.
"All of this is the last line of defense," he said. "Those words were really to challenge people to start to look in the mirror and ask themselves, what are you going to do in your
home? What are you going to do with your kids?"
Complete statement from city manager
We've heard the questions and statements:
What is the City going to do to make sure this never happens again?
What is the City going to do to keep violence out of our parks?
What is the City going to do to stop
people from bringing weapons into public spaces?
The city can just tear the park down for all we care.
The city should have never allowed this park to be public.
And beneath those questions and statements, we've begun to see something else, an implication that perhaps the responsibility for a human being's decision to commit violence should be laid at
the feet of those tasked with maintaining infrastructure, creating programs, or enforcing laws.
We want the public to know, we are not passive in the face of these challenges. We have made meaningful investments in public safety, in partnerships, and in building trust with our community. And we will continue. We will continue to invest in personnel and expand our public safety workforce. We will continue deploying advanced
security cameras throughout parks and high-traffic areas. We will implement new AI detection systems capable of identifying visible and concealed weapons in real time. While no technology is infallible, these are additional layers of vigilance we are putting in place, not as a promise of perfection, but as a sign of our commitment.
We are also evaluating an expansion of our partnerships to include mental health professionals,
outreach teams, and local organizations that work with youth, because we understand that enforcement alone is not enough, we must address root causes, not just symptoms.
And yet, even with all of that, it is both heartbreaking and frustrating that a tragedy becomes the backdrop for a larger misunderstanding of what any city, ours or any other, is capable of doing alone. It should be known, without any misconceptions, there
is no ordinance, fence, patrol, or policy that can eliminate the human capacity for violence when someone is determined to cause harm.
We live in a time when responsibility is often displaced onto institutions, as if the mere existence of a local government, county government, school district, or other public entity somehow creates the ability to prevent every act of evil. That's not how it works. We can provide lighting,
presence, programming, and enforcement. We can invest in our youth, build partnerships, and encourage community involvement. And we are doing those things, and we will continue to do so.
But if the argument is that the problem stems from a space being public rather than private, or open rather than restricted, then we've missed the real danger. Making the assumption that safety can be guaranteed by geography, or that human
nature changes with zoning designations, is like thinking evil needs a key card to get through the gate. That is not how this works.
This was not a zoning failure. It was a moral failure. A cultural one. And it is not one that the City of Ferris, or any city, can fix alone.
The belief that government can somehow remove the desire to do harm from a person's heart
is a dangerous illusion. We are not battling a lack of ordinances, we are battling human nature. And the idea that policy alone can save us from ourselves is not only false, it is the very delusion that keeps us from doing the real work of change. You cannot regulate away hatred, bitterness, trauma, revenge, or the glorification of violence that infects so many parts of our culture. These are not policy problems, they are people problems. Human nature problems.
Frankly, this line of thinking is part of the problem. It implies that an institution, city, school, county, or otherwise, exists to undo human nature, to intercept evil before it even manifests, and to do so without the partnership of the very people it serves. It turns accountability into something we outsource, and in doing so, it paralyzes progress. Because when you believe someone else is supposed to fix everything, you stop asking what you are
supposed to do.
We didn't get here overnight. We got here through years of moral erosion, of ignoring red flags, of celebrating rebellion while silencing wisdom, of convincing ourselves that law enforcement is the enemy and personal restraint is optional. We got here by mocking faith, removing mentors, and letting screens raise our children. And not just any screens, screens flooded with chaos, cruelty, and clout-chasing. We expect young people to choose peace
while the adults in their lives model outrage. We demand discipline from teenagers while feeding them a daily diet of dysfunction, watching grown men and women treat disrespect like entertainment and division like a brand. If you don't believe that, just spend five minutes reading how people talk to one another on a community Facebook page. Social media isn't just shaping youth, it's showing them what adults have deemed acceptable. And then we act surprised when that darkness doesn't skip a
generation. And now we want to blame others and a lack of external solutions? No. We have to be more honest than that.
We are in a societal moment where it's easier to demand external solutions than to confront internal truths. But real change doesn't begin at City Hall, it begins in the mirror. It begins by recognizing that the brokenness we fear in our world is too often a reflection of the brokenness we tolerate in
ourselves, in our homes, and in our communities.
The truth is, it will take all of us. Parents. Educators. Faith leaders. Coaches. Neighbors. And yes, cities too. But not cities alone. If we're serious about change, then it's time to stop pointing fingers and start linking arms. Because safety isn't the sole product of government, it's the product of community.
We grieve with the families. We are resolute in pursuing justice. And we invite everyone to take part in building a culture where this kind of violence no longer has room to grow.
As it is written, "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9).
Government can guard gates, but only truth and
transformation can guard hearts. That is where the real battle lies.
