On Wednesday, October 25th, terrorist Robert Card opened fire on Schemengees Bar and Sparetime Recreation in Lewiston. It was the 10th deadliest mass shooting in US history, and the deadliest in Maine’s history. 18 Mainers lost their lives, and 13 others were injured. 

The tragedy put the eyes of the world directly on the shell-shocked people of Maine, as Lewiston joined a group of communities across the country that no one wants to be a part of; a group of communities that no one deserves to be part of. Residents across the state are rocked to their core.  Maine is considered one of the safest states in the country, where the people are friendly and look out for each other. This type of stuff just doesn’t happen here, many Mainers have found themselves thinking. For many, the shock might never settle in.

As part of the healing process, vigils were held for the victims. Linda Nailor was invited to be the ASL (American Sign Language) interpreter for the vigil in Lisbon. The deaf community in particular has been grieving this week as 4 people who lost their lives were deaf. She has lived in Maine for 40 years and has never felt such a sense of community. “It was… I don’t know if I can describe it. I don’t know words- surreal.” she told The Beacon. “Never used that word in my life.” Thousands of people came together to sing harmoniously in the candlelight. It was the embodiment of being there for your community. Being there for your people, as Nailor put it. She spoke of one the most heartwarming moments of the evening and said she was brought to tears as everyone gathered inside a church at the vigil and held their hands up, signing I love you in ASL. 

Nailor has many personal connections to the tragedy. She told this reporter that she and her husband, a pastor in the area, are friends with the owners of the Bowling alley. She lives right down the street from where they found Card’s vehicle that night, and where the manhunt was conducted. She said that she watched the search helicopters from her window, watching the spotlights search the forested landscape of rural Maine for the suspect. “To know that the manhunt was happening half a mile away, talk about surreal…” she said. She reflected on how unnerving it was to see FBI agents and SWAT teams right where she lived and said she had never been so afraid in her life. “He could’ve been anywhere,” she said. His car was found in the parking lot of the very same trails she would take a young deaf girl she works with, the same trail on which she’s had picnics. “I’ll never look at it the same,” she adds about the trail. She is just one of so many people across the beautiful state with a personal connection to the tragedy. 

When asked how the community can heal from this, she takes a long, deep breath. “Oh isn’t everyone asking that question.” She says the best thing we can do is keep that question fresh in the front of our minds. As you drive across Lewiston, and most of Maine, you will see a variety of signs and tributes to the victims. Every business in the area displays a sign with a heartening slogan. Lewiston Strong, Maine Strong, they read. She spoke of the admiration she has for Leroy Walker, father of Joseph Walker, who just days after tragically losing his son, was at a local trick-or-treating event for kids. He reckons they need a smile on their faces now more than ever. 

The word community can not be said enough. Maine is one small town, as many national media outlets have remarked. And Mr. Walker is a heartwrenching and inspiring example of just how strong the sense of community is in Maine. Healing will be challenging. October 25th will always be a dark shadow for the people of the State, but the people have each other, and will never be alone.