THOUSAND OAKS SHOOTING Inside
the unending horror and heartbreak
When the first “pop” broke through the music at Borderline Bar & Grill in Thousand Oaks, California, on Nov. 7, the over-18s College Night crowd was revelling in a Wednesday night out. “It’s always working-class, country-loving people – a mellow place,” says John Hedge, who had been finishing up a drink with his stepdad. Then came the loud crack. “The room got all smoky, and I thought to myself, ‘ What the hell is going on?’ And then you just hear people screaming and diving.” Shaken and stunned, Sarah Deson, there to celebrate a friend’s 21st birthday, says simply, “I now know what gunshots sound like.”
Only 11 days after 11 people were shot dead in a Pittsburgh synagogue, the horror of a mass shooting was felt again, this time in this tight-knit enclave outside Los Angeles. Former Marine Ian David Long, 28, walked into Borderline wielding a handgun equipped with an illegal extended magazine. He fatally shot, point-blank, security guard Sean Adler, 48, and cashier Kristina Morisette, 20, who worked closest to the door. He then gunned down 10 others – leaving an additional 22 wounded – before turning the gun on himself, police say. Ventura County Sheriff Geoff Dean described the scene inside Borderline as “like hell” but acknowledged that the toll might have been worse had the bar-goers not been conditioned by mass shootings in America. “Patrons exited out of fire escapes, they ran out back doors, they went through windows, they hid,” says Dean. Unfortunately, our people have learned that this may happen, and they think about [ how to escape].”
Heroism shone through the darkest horror of that night. Sheriff’s Sgt. Ron Helus, 54, charged into the bar “to save people and made the ultimate sacrifice,” says Dean. Off-duty, unarmed officers who happened to be at the bar were credited with shielding fellow patrons – “A parent said, ‘They stood in front of my daughter,’ ” Dean told reporters – while Cody Coffman, 22, shepherded others towards escape before he was shot. “He was a protector,” says Deson. “He is one of the reasons I’m alive.”
Michael Morisette has now been forced by gunfire into the growing, grieving ranks of parents burying children. “I’m kind of consoled by the fact that Kristina was one of the first people shot, she didn’t know what was happening, she didn’t have to struggle,” he says. “It was quick.”