The assassination attempt on Donald Trump has put the former president in a category that hundreds of other Americans have been forced into in recent decades: the victim of a high-profile mass shooting.
For those who’ve been at the scene of public shootings or lived through the media whirlwind that followed a loved one’s death to mass violence, the past week has felt like a “rinse and repeat” of more than a decade of this type of violence, said Christian Heyne, the chief officer of policy and programs at Brady, a gun violence prevention organization named after former White House press secretary Jim Brady, who was shot in the head during an assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan in 1981.
“Every time this type of gun violence happens, it trudges up a lot of trauma,” said Heyne, whose mother was killed and father was injured in a shooting rampage in Thousand Oaks, California, in 2005. In addition to Heyne’s mother, a police officer was killed in the attack, and five other people were injured.
After Saturday’s shooting, Heyne was brought back to the day his mother was killed and his community was terrorized. He’s troubled that more people now face the trauma he’s lived with for nearly 20 years.
“The thing that baffles me is that we can be in this cycle of rinse and repeat but we’re not tapping into a conversation about how we prevent the next shooting,” he added.
For many like Heyne, Saturday’s shooting was a reminder of their own losses and a stark reminder that gun violence can touch anyone, including a presidential nominee surrounded by armed law enforcement. The policy solutions, they say, are the same they’ve asked for following every mass shooting tragedy.
“The fact that a 20-year-old with an AR-15 was able to get that close to killing a previous head of state is the reason that we have to focus on the gun at the end of the day,” said David Hogg, co-founder of March For Our Lives, a violence prevention group founded after 17 of his classmates were killed at their high school in Parkland, Florida.
As the news of the Trump rally flooded television, one of Hogg’s first thoughts was of his mother, who he says is deeply affected by news of shootings. Then, he began calling out what he sees as the fallacy that more guns will ensure protection from mass shootings. “We’re not going to bulletproof our entire society,” he said.
Now, he’s looking forward with hope that the near-killing of the leader of the Republican party will push lawmakers to build the trust amongst themselves needed to pass gun policies at the state and federal levels.
“The former president of the United States has heightened security and additional secret service, and this still happened. We need to change the conversation.
“We have to have some semblance of trust between these major party political leaders,” Hogg continued. “Do I think Republicans are actually going to step up to the plate and do something? I don’t think so. But I hope so after the crown jewel of their movement was threatened.”
The only similarity Hogg saw between the Parkland shooting and Trump’s assassination attempt was the deluge of conspiracies, speculation and misinformation that have become commonplace following high-profile shootings at Parkland and Sandy Hook elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut. “This is America, people love conspiracy theories in general,” he said.
“There’s this range of public outcry that we continue to live through,” echoed Mark Barden, whose seven-year-old son Daniel was one of 26 people killed in the 2012 tragedy in Connecticut. “There’s sympathy, empathy, outrage and anger. There’s sadness, there’s horror and fear and then conjecture.”
After 12 years of advocacy through Sandy Hook Promise, the organization he co-founded with his ex-wife Nicole Hockley, Barden says he has grown used to the intense news cycle that follows high-profile shootings. He’s found a way to move past the ugliest parts of the post-mass shooting news cycle, he says, to focus on spreading awareness about identifying the warning signs and behaviors that often precede mass public violence.
“I spend all of my intelligence and mental capital on getting people to know the signs and giving them the tools to make an intervention on themselves or somebody else,” he said.
“I think this could be – depending on how this unfolds – a catalyst moment,” Barden said of the rally shooting in Pennsylvania on Saturday. “There’s an opportunity for folks to understand that this doesn’t have to be our way of life.”
