LEWISTON, Maine– Ben Dyer was shot five times during Maine’s deadliest mass shooting, then a gunman killed 18 people at a bowling alley and a bar.
A year later, Dyer and fiancé Keela Smith want to turn the worst day of their lives into the best.
As Lewiston prepares to host the somber first birthday On Friday, Dyer and Smith look hopefully ahead to the second. Dyer proposed to Smith this spring, emboldened by a new outlook on life and determined not to hold back. They have chosen October 25 as their wedding date for next year, the same day as the shooting. They want to retake the day.
“So that it can always be a good memory for us. Something that we don’t fear every year, and that doesn’t break our hearts every year,” Smith said. ‘Cause it’ll be, ‘Oh, that’s our anniversary. That is the day we took back and made ours.”
The couple, both 48 years old, are among dozens of people directly affected by the shooting who are still alive trying to find ways to process the physical and emotional trauma. For many, the anniversary brings back unwanted memories.
“I have nightmares every day,” says Megan Vozzella, 39, whose husband Steve Vozzella was killed at Schemengees Bar & Rooster. “I will always have nightmares. As we get closer and closer, I’m not sleeping well.”
Megan says her husband managed to crawl out before he died. Thinking of him in pain and trying to hold on is what gives her the nightmares.
Vozzella, who is deaf, speaks through a sign language interpreter. Her husband was one of four deaf people who died while playing cornhole at the bar. Megan went to the same school with three of them, and they all knew each other well.
Megan and Steve were two weeks away from celebrating their first wedding anniversary when Steve was murdered. They had met in 2009 and met on a camping trip, something they still enjoyed doing together. They have a 13-year-old daughter, Bella. That night, Megan lost both her husband and much of her community.
“We thought we would have a future raising the family and growing old together. And they’re just all gone,” she said. “The world is turned upside down.”
Lewiston plans an anniversary ceremony Friday to honor the victims, survivors, first responders and others affected by the tragedy. The evening consists of music, speeches and two moments of silence.
The shooting started at the Just-In-Time Recreation bowling alley just before 7 p.m. Armed with a semi-automatic rifle equipped with a scope and laser, Army Reservist Robert Card killed eight people in 45 seconds. He then drove four miles to the bar, where he killed another ten people. He later committed suicide.
“We were just a group of people hanging out and doing something we love,” recalled Dyer, who played cornhole at the bar. “Eating snacks and food, having a few drinks and throwing bags. And then all hell broke loose.”
Dyer lay on the ground after being shot, trying to staunch the blood pouring from his right arm. He looked up and saw Card staring at him. As the gunman took aim, Dyer raised his arms and ducked his head, saving him from a fatal shot. He closed his eyes and tried not to breathe.
Dyer lost a finger and the use of his right arm. Nowadays he buys clothes that are a size too big so that he can put them on more easily with one hand. He’s still figuring out how to cook and how to throw cornhole bags left-handed. He’s reminded of it every time he looks at his scars in the shower or buttons his shirt.
“I’m still alive that day,” he said. “But I’m alive.”
In the months before the shooting, both the military and police failed to seize Card’s weapons despite knowing his mental health was deteriorating and he was making ominous threats, a commission of inquiry found. There are now about 100 survivors and relatives of the victims take steps to litigate the army.
Since the shooting, Maine has done just that has strengthened its ‘yellow flag’ law and made other changes to gun laws. But it did not ban assault weapons as some advocates wanted.
The U.S. surgeon general declared in June that gun violence is a… public health crisis. Dr. Vivek Murthy said Americans want to be able to go to school, the grocery store or their place of worship without having to worry about death. He called for a ban on assault weapons and high-capacity magazines for civilian use.
Dyer, who like many people in rural Maine enjoys hunting, said his experience hasn’t changed his views on guns.
“Your car can be a deadly weapon if you want it to be, if you drive it into a parade and mow people down,” he said. “So my view on guns is no different. I still own them and I still buy them.”
As Dyer speaks on the deck of his Auburn home, the sound of gunshots can be heard in the woods beyond. Dyer said the volleys don’t bother him because they are far away. He even said he’s excited to learn to hunt again, this time using just his left arm.
Like Dyer, Vozzella doesn’t see guns as the problem, instead blaming them on mental health failures. She remains angry at the police and military for not confiscating Card’s weapons before the massacre.
“They missed a lot of opportunities,” she said.
Vozzella’s daughter is still afraid to go to school because she fears a gunman will show up. It’s been a tough year for both of them, Vozzella said, but they’ve found some solace by going camping and spending time with family and friends.
Vozzella shows off the arm tattoo she got shortly after the shooting: a heart with angel wings and the inscription: “In Loving Memory Stephen M Vozzella.”
“It’s never been easier,” she said. “It won’t be easy to carry on for the rest of my life. But I’m slowly moving forward each day and finding my new normal.
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Associated Press journalists Rodrique Ngowi, Robert F. Bukaty, Patrick Whittle, David Sharp and Holly Ramer contributed to this report.
