A Reader Shares Their Experience From The Colorado Shooting

I got an e-mail from Tim McGrath, a reader of the site and a writer/director/producer/actor who has been in Colorado filming an indie movie. Tim was inside the theatre when the shooting happened last week and this is his story that he wanted to share with everyone.


Hey Everybody,

For those of you I'm not friends with on Facebook (or don't check it like a certain brother I won't name), I wanted to share this with you. I wrote this for my family and close friends, but so many people have reached out I decided to share it with everyone. I'm learning the shooting really did affect a nation, not just those of us directly involved and our loved ones. My goal is that by sharing one story of what went on in the theatre and living with it since then, it will help everyone be able to process and better work through this incident. Hopefully for the better. I'm sending much love to you all.

Best,

T


Writers write. It's how I process.

The hardest part was that you just didn’t know anything. You didn’t know where the shooters were, how many, or how long it would last. A movie theatre, a very predictable place, had become a dangerous, foreign location. Every move seemed like a life or death choice, and that made it harder to make any move. But you knew it wasn’t a good idea to stay put, as that just made you a sitting target.

I have no idea how we ended up in theatre 8 instead of theatre 9. I’m in Colorado directing and acting in a movie I co-wrote. Some very nice producers really like the script and our ideas for what’s entertaining, so they are backing the project. Pretty exciting times. After a meeting with the cinematographer, I drove to Aurora with my cousin and co-director Ryan, and my friend and co-writer Tyler to catch the midnight show of The Dark Knight Rises. We love film and Chris Nolan. Still do. We didn’t all have tickets for the same after-midnight show, but the theatre employee told us it didn’t matter which of the theatres we sat in as the theatre was adding showtimes as they sold out. So we chose 8.

I’ve been asked often about the details of the experience. They’re awful. In the fingerprint scene with Anne Hathaway, the gunshots started. The air in the theatre started to get smoky with tear gas, the emergency strobe lights started flashing and alarms and pre-recoded voices sounded as there were more gunshots. The lights in the room stayed off and Anne Hathaway’s gun battle on screen played loudly. People were yelling. Debris was falling on some and others were yelling to stay away from the walls where the bullets were coming through. Some people saw bright flashes with more gunshot sounds. We heard people were hit. As a group, the audience in the theatre began slowly walked toward the exits until the crowd stopped moving and started pushing back, as the people exiting were being shot. We stopped and looked around inside the theatre, not sure what to do, but not wanting to be trapped and easy targets. Someone figured out we could leave through the projection room at the top of the theatre. A lot of people didn’t think it was a good idea to leave. A few of us tentatively left the theatre into the balcony over the theatre lobby, hoping no one was waiting for us. We were lucky. We crawled along the balcony and down the stairs as we looked every which way for where the shooter or shooters may be next. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we waited, hiding on the ground behind the short railing wall, taut, and scared, for what we guessed was the right time to make a run for the door. We made a guess and made the run. Once we were outside, we ran for the car. Many people, both calm and crying, were in the parking lot. Along with a lot of chaos. We heard there were explosives rigged. And there was the possibility the shooting might happen in the parking lot. We couldn’t think of a better idea than making our way toward the car. So we circled as wide as we could to the other side of the parking lot and got in the car. Oddly, that walk felt a bit like being toward the back at a music festival, where it was more quiet, but a lot of commotion and people were milling about nearby. After we arrived at the car we started to drive around the back of the theatre, but we decided not to. This was good, because we later heard the back of the theatre was home base for the shooter. We left the lot through a side exit, and the police stopped us, asking if we had seen anything. We knew then they were just as confused as we were. We waited at the light for police cars to drive by us and back toward the theatre. We lost count after 45 police cars, ambulances and fire trucks from every city and county drove past us at full speed. As the adrenaline began to fade, tears made their way to my eyes, but didn’t stream down my face. We got home and waited for hours for any news. There was very little, other than a blogger with a police scanner. We got to sleep at 4, and our phones started buzzing at 6. We didn’t sleep much.

Each time I’m asked about the incident, I feel a pang of guilt, because comparatively, I got out easy. I had a sense of relief as we left the parking lot. Many people didn’t get that relief, so I feel guilty. They say it’s normal to feel this way, but this sure doesn’t feel normal. And so I continually process this in my head.

The mental image that has not left me since that night is when we were crawling down the staircase, as we neared the point where we’d have to make a run for the door leading to the outside. We knew we couldn’t stay, because if anyone came to the top of the stairs we were helpless, but it was tough to decide the best moment to run near a door where moments before a gunman was shooting people. I looked over my shoulder and saw Ryan and Tyler pressed along the wall. It is much, much more gut-wrenching than you would think, seeing your loved ones having to hunker down in hopes of being protected from a killer or killers. The most intense feeling I had the whole night was in this moment, and five days later, it hasn’t left my belly.

Lastly, a lot of people have asked what I have learned through this experience; is there any good that comes of it; or do I have any new insight on life. As a person who’s made his living creating movies, I’ve come to value an imagination and a strong belief system as the most effective tools to get anything accomplished. As soon as the pops began, I just started to imagine we would be ok. This mental work was an effort. My natural reaction was to be terrified. But that’s not helpful, so I just stuck with my imagination. Doing that brought with it a strength and calm in the midst of everything. I was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of love. And I had a raging energy in my belly and soul to protect Ryan and Tyler. As I’m sure they wanted for me. I don’t know my imagination helped us make it out alive and unhurt, but it helped me in the moment, and it has helped me in the moments since then, when my mind wanders to scary places. So I’m choosing to walk away from this in a way I think would make my grandpa proud. I choose to not be terrified. I choose to allow this experience and feeling in my belly to continually motivate me to be more of the person I want to be. I will continue to create. I will endeavor to inspire. I will treat people in the way they should be treated, regardless of how they treat me. I will wrestle with my dogs and make jokes with my friends. And I’ll give the world as much love as I have in my heart, because that’s what feels best to me.
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