The news came, much as it did 18 years ago.

A call from our office. There had been a shooting at Fort Hood. Had we seen anything about it on TV?

We had not, but what our office manager, Brenda Smith, was describing sounded gravely serious.

The memories of another fateful day in Central Texas history -- almost 20 years before -- flooded my mind. As was the case last week, we had just wrapped up another edition and had gone home for lunch. Then, my brother, Fred, had called me to say, “There’s some kind of hostage situation going on in Killeen.”

On Nov. 5, 2009, it was a mass shooting at the Soldier Readiness Processing site at Fort Hood. On Oct. 16, 1991, it was a deadly shooting spree at a Luby’s cafeteria in Killeen that left 24 dead and 20 wounded.

The Luby’s massacre at the time was the worst mass shooting in United States history, exceeding even a July 18, 1984, killing spree in San Ysidro, Calif., when a gunman opened fire at a McDonald’s restaurant, killing 21 people. Now, the Fort Hood massacre was being called the deadliest shooting spree ever at a U.S. military installation.

Sadly, mass shootings have been an all-too-frequent occurrence in recent U.S. history. The deadly day at Columbine. The Virginia Tech massacre.

But, as horrific as these incidents were, they were not repeated in the same location.

When I think of Killeen, I think of Fort Hood. And when I think of Fort Hood, I think of Killeen. The city -- roughly a half-hour’s drive from Lampasas -- and the sprawling Army base are inseparable, at least in my mind.

Why Killeen, almost 20 years ago? And why Fort Hood now? Why such carnage in roughly the same locale, separated only by two decades of time?

In the Luby’s massacre, a 35- year-old Belton man, George Hennard -- a former merchant seaman -- rammed his truck through a front plate-glass window at a crowded cafeteria and then began shooting. He killed many of his victims at point-blank range. Among the dead were Glen Spivey, a Lampasas County native and brother of Lampasas County Tax Assessor-Collector Linda Crawford. Su-zann Neal Rashott of Kempner also lost her life, as did the parents of Suzanna Gratia Hupp. Mrs. Hupp would later become a state representative and a nationally known proponent of the right to carry concealed handguns, so law-abiding citizens can help protect themselves from occurrences similar to the one at Luby’s.

At Fort Hood’s Soldier Readiness Processing site on Thursday, a 39-year-old Army major, psychiatrist Nidal Malik Hasan, reportedly fired more than 100 bullets as he killed 13 people and wounded some 30 others. Like his predecessor in mass crime, George Hennard, Nidal Hasan shot his victims with calculated lethality. He targeted some of his victims three or four times and went for the head, neck and chest oftentimes.

Both men felt the need to make a statement as the chaos began. Hennard said: “Is it worth it? Is it worth it? It’s payday.” He also declared: “Tell everybody that Bell County is bad.” Hasan, witnesses said, yelled: “Allahu Akbar!” -- “God is great” in Arabic.

For the families whose loved ones were snatched from this life by, first, George Hennard, and now, Nidal Hasan, there are far more questions than answers.

In today’s highly uncertain, cataclysmic times, one thing is certain, though. There will be a reckoning, an accounting for one’s actions. The Bible puts it this way: “Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, this he will also reap.”

Whether you are George Hennard or Nidal Hasan.