Since writing the book, The Lewiston Shootings: An All-American Tragedy, I’ve been asked a number of times why I chose to write about this horrible event. I’ve also been questioned on social media for doing so and it’s been suggested that I’ve capitalized on others’ pain to profit for myself.
The emphasis on my motivations for writing the book, rather than on the issues raised about why it happened and what can be done to prevent it from happening again, wasn’t completely unexpected. It comes with the territory, and this territory is full of buried landmines of grief and anger.
I’d like to acknowledge upfront that the book was released with some errors, and that those errors have upset some people who care deeply about the eighteen victims of the shootings. Of the 80,000 words in the book, an unforgivable error and one that haunts me was in misidentifying a victim at Just-In-Time on one of the six times his name was mentioned. I am deeply sorry for this mistake, and I apologize to his family and friends for having made it. I also got a victim’s age wrong, and misspelled another victim’s name one of the six times he was mentioned. All these errors were corrected by the publisher as soon as I notified them.
I do understand any anger expressed by family members, friends of the victims, and survivors for those errors and for telling the story. I understand that anger is a part of the grieving process, that they are trying to move on with their lives, and any retelling of this tragedy can prevent them from doing that. I understand that seeing a social media post or a TV interview publicizing the release of the book can retrigger their grief and trauma. And I certainly understand how upsetting it must be to see them misidentified.
I wish there was a way to avoid all of this. But you don’t spend nine months of your life writing a book about the most traumatic event in the history of the state of Maine to let it gather dust without being read. I wrote the book so people could learn - about why Robert Card II did what he did, about why he wasn’t stopped before he did, about what lessons can be applied to help prevent a potential future tragedy.
I wrote it so there would be some public accountability for the institutional failure to get Card the help he needed, because that’s why I wanted to become a reporter forty years ago. Call me a naive ‘boomer,’ but I still believe in the power of the press to help bring about necessary change.
I wrote it because I love this state and the people who live here, and the fact that it happened an hour away from where I live at a bowling alley I’d been to before, told me that I should be the one to write it rather than someone from away.
And I wrote it to memorialize the victims. So that they might be remembered in the wider world beyond their circle of family and friends. Honestly, I was brought to tears many times as I did, and I see their faces and think of them and their families to this day and likely always will. They’ll never be random unlucky strangers to me.
This story doesn’t end with the publication of my book. There will be many more news stories about the upcoming independent commission report. There will be a PBS Frontline documentary airing near the first-year anniversary. There might even be more books by other authors.
If it’s any solace to the people who are still hurting about the loss of your loved ones, every account - whether it’s for the right intention or not - will remind us all of the beautiful people lost, and why we have to find a way to prevent it from happening again. If any of this results in stopping a potential future tragedy, then their ultimate sacrifice won’t be in vain.
