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Erica Mahoney
Hey, I'm Erica Mahoney, host of Lemonada's hit podcast Senseless. I want to tell you about an app that's honestly been a game changer for me, Duckbill. Duckbill is like an executive assistant for your personal life, powered by AI and real humans who tackle your to do list so you don't have to because life is busy. So think of Duckbill like your personal task force that never gets tired, never procrastinates, and gives you a break. All you do is submit a task and they get on it fast. I've used Duckbill to manage my calendar, book doctor's appointments for my kids, order thoughtful gifts for my husband, and even plan my podcast, launch party venue and all. It helps me show up for the people I love and take better care of myself because time is power and everyone deserves extra help in reclaiming theirs. So if your plate is overflowing, pass a few things off to Duckbill. Life is short, so duck it. Use code senseless for 50% off your first two months at getduckbill.com that's getduckbill.com Lemonade this podcast relives an account of gun violence and the trauma that follows. Please take care when listening. I've wanted to be a journalist since I was in third grade. That year, my mom had a show called that's Life on KWAB Radio in Boulder. She let me have my own little segment called think about it workingassetsradio.com and 1490 Kwab Boulder. Hi, I'm Erica Brin with Think about it or Working Assets Radio. You know, whether a mom works in the home, out of the home, or in and out of the home, I'm pretty sure about one thing, and that is moms love their kids all over the world, and every time you tell us something nice, it matters. Here are some ways to let us know you're proud. You can say things like good job, Nice try. I really like how you tackled that. But most of all, we like to hear I love you just the way you are. Just think about it. This is Erica Brain for Working Essets Radio. Good job, Erica. We do love you just the way you are. This is Ellen Mahoney for kwab. I loved everything about being in the radio studio, from the aroma of fresh ground coffee to the bright red on air light and hanging out with my mom. In high school, I joined a teen talk show at the community radio station KGNU and went on to study broadcast journalism at Syracuse University. I joined the college TV station. We were serious but we were also learning. Some of my funniest memories happened at Citrus TV every year. There was a blooper reel. Here's a clip from 2010 When I'm co anchoring and the weather reporter was on the wrong side of the studio during our live newscast. Durie is here with the full forecast. Durie seems like having some technical difficulties. She's making her way over to the weather board right now from the green screen. Thanks. After college, I started working as a local TV news reporter, eventually landing on California's Central coast in Salinas. The job was tough. I covered a lot of gun violence as a nightside reporter. I was sent out to crime scenes all the time and often alone. After two years, I felt numb, burned out and ready for change. I decided to return to my roots in radio. That's when I started reporting for kazu, the local NPR station. The pace was slower and I had more autonomy over what I covered and how My inner child was beyond thrilled with KAZU news. I'm Erica Mahoney. It's that time of year again when thousands of western monarch butterflies begin to show up in the Monterey Bay area to spend the winter. For over a decade, my job has been to tell stories. Stories of hope and of heartache. One of the most difficult ones I ever covered was the mass shooting. It happened back in 2019 at the Gilroy Garlic Festival in Northern California. It marked the very first time I ever reported live on the air for a national network. I dreamed of this moment since I was a little girl, but this was not the feel good story I wanted to define my debut. The festival was known for its garlic ice cream, kids activities and live music, all to celebrate the city of gilroy, which is 80 miles south of San Francisco and nicknamed the Garlic Capital of the world. But on July 28, 2019, a fun day at the fair turned into a life or death situation when a young man opened fire and people had to run for their lives. Gilroy was outside in my station's coverage area, about an hour's drive north, but producers at NPR headquarters in Washington, D.C. were blowing up my phone. They wanted a story about the shooting to air nationally, and I was one of the closest reporters to the scene. My news director at KAZU was out of town. You don't have to go, I remember her saying over the phone. It's your choice, she said. Mass shootings cast a shadow over my life since the same year I started my Think about it radio segment when I was just nine years old. That's because Columbine High School was not far from my elementary school. My family attended the memorial after the devastating mass shooting in 1999 that shocked the nation. My brother and I both remember going, and he was only in kindergarten. From that moment on, the possibility of mass shootings was always in the back of our minds. In high school, I went back for a track or a cross country meet at Columbine. And then we went and walked around the Memorial of Columbine. And it was, like, very impactful for me to be there at that, just because it was a big deal back when it happened, even though I was in kindergarten. Sadly, it was just the first of multiple shootings that were close to home. And now another one, this time in Gilroy, California, a community I knew and cared about. I told my news director, I'll go. I'll do it. My fiance drove so I could work in the car. We parked at the Reunification Center, a makeshift gathering place inside a covered parking lot. I interviewed a woman who'd been volunteering at the festival for nearly two decades. She worked in the children's area. When the gunfire rang out, she helped people get to safety. She told me she never thought this would happen in Gilroy. It was dark out by the time city officials arrived for a press conference. I stood in a sea of reporters and prayed my microphone would record properly. The mayor, Roland Velasco, looked devastated. Thank you all for being here. First, let me say that I want to express my. My extreme shock and sadness for what has happened today. This is an active investigation. I would ask for the thoughts and prayers of the community as our Gilroy police officers continue to investigate this tragic and senseless crime. Next, Police Chief Scott Smithy spoke. This is one of those press conferences you never want to have to give in your community, and it's sort of a nightmare that you hope you never have to live in reality. Three people were killed, and we'd later learn they were all young, 6, 13 and 25 years old. The shooter also died after turning the gun on himself. The collective heartache followed me home. With the deadline quickly approaching, I suggested the sound bite of the woman talking about how she never thought this could happen in Gilroy. But the NPR producer I was assigned to work with wanted something different, saying, everyone says that nowadays. As a journalist, I get it. We can be cynical and jaded. We cover a lot of horrible things constantly. According to the FBI, there had already been 16 active shooter incidents that year, and it was only July. So, yes, maybe it starts to sound cliche when someone says they never thought it could happen here, but it's also true. I was there. I saw the pain in their eyes and felt their shock and disbelief. So cutting that soundbite bothered me. The next day, in the early morning hours, NPR's Steve Inskeep interviewed me on Morning Edition. All these years later, I wonder if this debut was a bad omen or just a reality check on life in the US Erica Mahoney of Kazu is covering this story. She's on the line. Good morning. Good morning. What is the Gilroy Garlic Festival normally like? It's normally very festive, Steve. It's a big summer celebration. There's food, there's garlic ice cream, there's music. It's very family friendly. Oh, my goodness, I wish I was having a conversation with you about the garlic ice cream. But instead, we have to discuss this tragic series of events. What was it like when you arrived at the festival? This time? It was chaos. I actually landed at the Reunification Center. It was a parking lot at a nearby college, Gavilan College, actually set up by the festival organizers as an initial place where they could hop on the bus and go to the festival and come back. But after the shooting happened, it became a place where families and people attending the festival could find each other, get information about their victims. So again, very, very chaotic. What did people say about their experience? I covered the aftermath of the Gilroy shooting for weeks until it was time to move on to the next headline. Then the pandemic took center stage. One day while driving into work, I told my mom over the phone, at least with fewer people in public spaces, there have been less mass shootings. She said, I thought that, too. But then in the spring of 2021, I found myself watching yet another press conference about a mass shooting. This time it was personal. Good evening. Can everybody hear me okay? In Boulder, Colorado, my hometown and a place I love, we had a very tragic incident today here at the King Soopers. There was loss of life, the King Soopers grocery store I grew up going to five minutes from where my parents still live. I couldn't stop thinking, how could this be happening in Boulder, in my safe suburban hometown that everyone calls the Boulder Bubble? So, yeah, maybe this thought is cliche by now, or maybe it's the only logical response because when your reality is destroyed, it's incomprehensible. After the first press conference wrapped up hours after the shooting, my dad was already long gone. But we didn't know that yet. And little did I know that part of me would die. That day too, for I'd also find myself on the other side of so many things. My job, my identity, this American tragedy, and the life I once knew. I'm Erica Mahoney and this is Senseless, a podcast about moving forward after the unthinkable. This is an ad by BetterHelp. Men today face immense pressure to perform, to provide and keep it all together. I see it daily with my husband who is also a hard working dad. So it's no wonder that 6 million men in the US suffer from depression every year and it's often undiagnosed. If you're a man and you're feeling the weight of the world, talk to someone. Anyone. A friend, a loved one. A therapist. I can't imagine moving forward after losing my dad without my incredible therapists. Therapy has helped me untangle thought patterns I didn't even realize were holding me back and given me tools to respond to stress and my PTSD with more clarity and compassion. I've become more self aware, more emotionally resilient, and honestly kinder to myself. With over 35,000 therapists, BetterHelp is the world's largest online therapy platform, having served over 5 million people globally. And it's convenient too. You can join a session with a therapist at the click of a button, helping you fit therapy into your busy life, plus switch therapists at any time. As the largest online therapy provider in the world, BetterHelp can provide access to mental health professionals with a diverse variety of expertise. Talk it out with better help, our listeners get 10% off their first month@betterhelp.com senseless that's betterhelp.com senseless As a mom, wife, friend, and now a podcast host, life is a lot. One minute I'm chasing the kids in the yard, the next I'm racing to the recording studio. It's not easy, and honestly, it's a little overwhelming. But I wouldn't trade this life for anything. And I know I'm not alone. I see you juggling all the things looking composed on the outside while quietly unraveling inside. From birthday parties to doctor's appointments, dinner plans to back to back meetings, we could all use an extra set of hands. That's where Duckbill comes in. Duckbill is like an executive assistant for your personal life, powered by AI and real humans who tackle your to do list so you don't have to. Because life is busy, it's messy, it's complicated, and Duckbill makes it a little bit easier. All you do is submit a task and Duckbill gets on it fast. I've used Duckbill to stay on top of my calendar, schedule appointments, order thoughtful gifts, and even plan my podcast, launch party venue and all. Duckbill helps me show up for the people I love and take care of myself. I so if your plate is too full, hand off a few things to Duckbill. Life is short, so duck it. Use code senseless for 50% off your first two months@getduckbill.com that's getduckbill.com as the weather warms up, I feel that familiar urge to refresh my closet. But I'm not wasting money on pieces I'll only wear once or for just one season. Quince changes that their clothes are timeless, breathable, and feel far more luxurious than anything else at this price. Quinn's has everything I need for summer, like 100% European linen shorts and dresses from $30 Italian leather platform sandals, luxury swimsuits, and so much more. One of the best parts of summertime to me is swimming. After my dad died, I spent a lot of time in the water because it's healing. My kids love swimming too, and this summer we're spending a lot of time at the pool. I just got the softest towels from Quince and the cutest one piece swimsuit for my daughter in this adorable strawberry print, her favorite fruit. The suit was half the cost of similar brands and the material is rated UPF 50 for sun protection against UVA and UVB rays. Best of all, Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical and responsible manufacturing practices in premium fabrics and finishes. Give your summer closet an upgrade with quince. Go to quince.comsenseless for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's Q U I N C E dot com senseless to get free shipping and 365 day returns. Quince.comsenseless in the space between what was our life, a world with my dad in it, and what would become our life, minutes felt like hours as we waited in limbo, me hundreds of miles away in California and my mom and brother in Boulder. So it was a slow kind of unfolding of a nightmare. Reporters on TV kept announcing the location of the Reunification Center, a term that stings in retrospect. My mom and brother Drew went. He came and got me and we drove there and we were both shaking. There were all of these news teams and I remember walking up the steps and we were being filmed and I didn't like that. And then when we got inside, everybody looked distraught. Nobody knew what was happening. And Drew and I stayed there for a little while, and someone was really angry. I remember a family member, and that upset us. So we decided to leave. And I remember walking down the steps and being filmed again. And we just got in the car and Drew was a mess. Meanwhile, I was watching the first press conference about the shooting at King Soopers. When it ended, I slammed my laptop shut. Police were reporting multiple fatalities. I ran to the bathroom and called my mom for the tenth time that day. My mom, it's bad, I said while kneeling over the toilet, feeling like I was going to throw up. She paused for a long time. Then she said something I'll never forget. If dad is gone, she said, we'll figure out how to carry on. Up until then, my mom had remained hopeful, telling Drew and me there was still a chance dad was okay. But now she was finally admitting out loud something was very, very wrong. Her message was complex, and it would turn out to be something I would cling to at my lowest points. She was telling me that if dad was gone, he would want us to keep going. I knew it was true. But carry on, I thought. How? I stood up, turned around, splashed cold water on my face from the bathroom sink. The young woman staring back at me from the other side in the mirror was unrecognizable, hollow. And yet I was six months pregnant with life growing inside of me. I looked at my belly in the mirror. It was a very visual reason to not give up on life. Later that night, Boulder Police Chief Maris Herold spoke at another press conference. The first thing I want to say is, I want to say our hearts of this community go out to the victims of this horrific incident. We know of 10 fatalities at the scene, including one of our Even though there was no official confirmation my dad was one of them, the chance of him surviving started to dissolve. The truth was catching up to us. I want to reassure the community that they are safe and that we will try to do our best over the next few hours to identify the victims. And we'll be working with the coroner's office to do that as promptly as possible because I know there are people out there waiting for an answer, and I am very sympathetic to that. And we will work around the clock to get this accomplished. My husband, Brandt, and I began to surrender. Yeah, I think at that point we kind of had enough information. His parents came over to sit with us in our living room. My father in law helped us book plane tickets to Denver for the next day, and my mother in law brought dinner. It was a really good, like, pozole soup, But I couldn't enjoy it, really. And then the next thing I remember, just as we went to bed, which was kind of weird to, like, be going to bed. Lying in bed, I felt so many emotions all at once. Confusion and despair and anger. Rage coursed through my body. I imagined myself screaming at the shooter in court as I stared at my ceiling. Then I just felt bad. If I ever got the chance, I planned to tell him this. That I wish he'd received more love in his life. Because then maybe none of this would have happened. Meanwhile, my brother and mom were just trying to make it through the night, too. I remember we didn't eat. We didn't eat dinner. And my neighbor Debbie was so helpful. We were upset, so she called a crisis counselor. Well, there were two women who came over that evening, and I really thank her for that. And the two women were very helpful for Drew. Just trying to talk him into a better place, which was almost impossible. Then they left. And I remember Drew and I slept on sofas in the TV room. And we sort of were awake, but maybe fell asleep for a little bit. But I remember looking out the picture window and I saw a shooting star. And by that point, I. I thought Kevin had died. And I thought, that's Kevin. Kevin's saying hi. I also received a sign. Around 1:30am after tossing and turning all night, I decided to get out of bed. I walked into the living room and stood in front of the window. Outside, the moon cast a ray of light across the treetops. Farther away, twinkling city lights tried traced the boundary between land and sea. At the edge of the Monterey Bay, Earth was offering a moment of peace. I inhaled and exhaled for the first time in a long time. Then, out of nowhere, I saw a flash of bright white light on the single country road to our house. I waited to see if it would move forwards or backwards or if it would blink again. But nothing else happened. Perhaps it was just headlights, but it felt like a sign for my dad. I heard his voice in my head. I'm on the other side now. I'm with Brenda. Brenda was my dad's little sister, my aunt. She had just passed away. It was like my dad was preparing me for the arrival of the truth, which was about to be officially announced. Because less than a minute later, right after I crawled back into bed, my cell phone rang on my nightstand. Brant, sleeping beside me, woke up. My brother was on the line. All I could hear through the phone was guttural crying. My little Brother trying to form words. The coroner called. He cried out, dad's. Finally we knew the truth. Twelve hours after my dad was killed, Shattered. My brother ran into the front yard. Yeah, I think then I went outside and like, like, was just, like, on my knees in the front yard. Like, it wasn't that cold out. And was just like, what? How did this just happen? Things unfolded in a surreal way. My mom was worried Drew was having a major anxiety attack and wondered if she should call for an ambulance. Right around the same time, two police officers showed up and came into the house to check on everyone. Drew calmed down. Meanwhile, someone from the coroner's office called my cell phone. They said very kindly and carefully, we heard you're pregnant and want you to take care of that baby. I laid in bed with my husband, Brandt, depleted from all my crying and eventually, sleep overcame me. And then I just remember holding you all night. You just cried in my arms. It was really hard. And it was kind of the first time for me to feel really, like, helpless and just. The only thing that I could do is just be there for you and hold you and comfort you. Because there was nothing I could do to bring your dad back. Foreign I'm Erica Mahoney, and this is senseless. Stay with us, parents. We know the child care crisis is not just another headline. It's a daily struggle playing out in millions of homes across this country. I'm Gloria Rivera, and this is. No One Is Coming to Save Us this season. We're demanding a child care system that actually works for kids, parents and educators. We mean free birth to five. Full day nearby, easy to apply. No One Is Coming to Save Us. Season five from Lemonada Media, out now. The sun rose the next day, but I'd never felt so dark inside. Brandt and I wanted to hide beneath the covers, but we had to get ready for our flight to Colorado. The morning began with another press conference. The police chief officially announced the names of the 10 victims now that all the families had been notified. Denny Strong, 20 years old. Nevin Staczynski, 23. Still so early in the aftermath, some of the names were pronounced incorrectly. Ricky Oz, 25. Trelona Barkanoviek, 49. Suzanne Fountain, 59. Terry Leiker, 51. Officer Eric Talley, 51. Kennedy. Kevin Mahoney, 61. Lynn Murray, 62. Jody Waters, 65. Our hearts go out to all the victims killed during this senseless act of violence. We are committed with state, local and federal authorities for a thorough investigation and will bring justice to each of these families in the midst of angrily packing to fly home, I felt compelled to post on Twitter to show the world who my dad was, a wonderful, real human being ripped away for no good reason. I posted a picture of him walking me down the aisle on my wedding day less than a year ago. Here's what I wrote. I am heartbroken to announce that my dad, my hero Kevin Mahoney, was killed in the King Sooper shooting in my hometown of Boulder, Colorado. My dad represents all things love. I'm so thankful he could walk me down the aisle last summer. I am now pregnant. I know he wants me to be strong for his granddaughter. Thank you to the Boulder police for being so kind through this painful tragedy. I love you forever, dad. You are always with me. As I threw clothes into my suitcase, not caring what I wore because that seems so trivial now, my phone started dinging over and over again. What's that sound? I thought dozens of Twitter notifications were waiting for me on my phone. For some reason, it never occurred to me the post would go viral. And that's when the interview requests started piling up in my inbox. I felt overwhelmed. I wondered how I'd ever get back to all of these reporters and whether I should say yes or no. For so long, I've asked people to share their hard stories with me, and now I was being asked to do the same. But being on the other side of the story is not easy. Even if I wanted to talk, I questioned whether I could form sentences. I was barely conscious at this point. Unsure of where to turn, I called one of my editors at npr. It must have been strange for him, too, to have one of his reporters caught in the crosshairs of this major national news story. We discussed the pros and cons around saying yes and how'd we go about it. We agreed that if I did do interviews, I should speak with NPR first. My editor's advice was to stick to stories about my dad and not get political or start talking about gun reform. Part of me agreed journalists are supposed to remain neutral. But another part didn't. My dad was just killed in a mass shooting, and I'm not supposed to have any feelings about that. In the end, I decided I did want to talk. I needed to share how badly this hurt, and in many ways I felt like my entire background and career had prepared me for this moment. We scheduled the recording for later that day, after my husband and I flew to Colorado. When we landed at Denver International Airport, Brandt and I were exhausted. We felt like zombies walking to baggage claim. As soon as we spotted my mom and brother waiting for us behind a revolving carousel, we rushed into each other's arms and you just came over to me crying. And you, we hugged and then you hugged Drew and you were just really upset. When we got home, it felt the same and different all at once. My dad's hiking boots were in the same place, his clean laundry in a basket upstairs. But colorful flowers were everywhere, spread across the dining room table and the kitchen counter in all sorts of beautiful vases, our fridge already full of food from neighbors. Not long after, Brandt and I solemnly unpacked our suitcases downstairs in the guest room, just over 24 hours after my dad was killed in a mass shooting, I got ready for my first interview with NPR's Noel King. Sitting cross legged on the pullout couch, I worried that as soon as she asked about my dad, I, I would just crumble and have to cancel the whole thing. Answering the questions was a lot harder than asking them. I had to take several breaks, moments of sobbing that were thankfully edit out in post production. The interview aired on the radio show Morning Edition the next day. On a mountain overlooking Boulder, Colorado, there is a giant star glowing. It's normally lit up in the winter for the holidays. But for the last two nights and for eight more, the Boulder star is shining in honor of the 10 people killed in Monday's shooting at the King Soopers grocery store. One of them was 61 year old Kevin Mahoney. His daughter, Erica Mahoney, is the news director at member station KAZU in Monterey Bay, California. She spoke with Noel King. Tell us about your dad. If I could give him an award, it would be the Best dad award because he was like a dad to the entire neighborhood here in my hometown of Boulder, Colorado. He would play outside with us for hours in the summertime, like hide and seek all over the neighborhood. A lot of my friends have been texting me today and throughout this time saying that he was like a dad to them, too. He was just like the best dad ever. Have you learned, Erica, what your dad was doing at the supermarket on Monday night? He was going grocery shopping to step up for my mom, you know, during the pandemic. He was the one that would do a lot of the shopping and, and King Soopers is five minutes from our home. That's where I've gone since I was 5 years old. And so he was, you know, supporting the family and getting groceries. What did your dad do for a living? How did he spend his time when he wasn't being a dad he was in the hotel business. You know, at a certain point in life he actually decided to retire early. And I'm just so happy that he did that now because he was able to do the things he really loved. He traveled a lot and he went skiing a lot and he visited me a lot. So I'm really thankful for that. He did decide to do that. Over the next few days, my mom and I did more interviews. Sharing our story gave us a sense of purpose. In those first blurry days. We spoke with Anderson Cooper on cnn. The interview was difficult though, because we couldn't see his face during the remote recording on my laptop, my mom and I did our best to look into the blank screen while sitting side by side at our dining room table. 61 year old Kevin Mahoney proudly walked his daughter Erica down the aisle just this summer. She, along with her mom, Kevin's wife Ellen Mahoney, joined me earlier. Erica and Ellen, thank you so much for being with us. How are you both holding up? Well, it's of course obvious, understandably, very difficult that we have had so much love and support from after cnn, we did another remote interview with C. By day three, after answering so many questions, many of them the same ones just asked in different ways, my mom and I decided to slow down. But before we stopped, we wanted to do one last interview with a local journalist we both knew, Kyle Clark from 9News Denver. Early in my reporting career, I had shadowed Kyle at nine News, and he'd spoken to my mom's class at Metro State University in Denver, where she teaches in the journalism department. On the day of the shooting, Kyle and my mom both pulled up to King Soopers at the same time. My mom was there trying to find dad, and Kyle was there to cover the breaking news. But instead of asking her for an interview, he comforted her. It's something neither one of us will ever forget because he showed up as a human being for One by one, we are learning about the 10 Coloradans lost. Kevin Mahoney had the kind of kindness that made him adored, not just by his kids, but by a neighborhood full of them who saw him as a second dad. Last year, his daughter Erica convinced him that she did not need a big, elaborate wedding delay due to the pandemic. All she needed was him by her side, walking her down the aisle in her backyard. He preferred the outdoors anyway. I spoke with Kevin's daughter Erica and his wife Ellen at their home in Boulder. With multiple cameras and tall lights set up in our living room. The conversation we had with Kyle stood out. There was a level of comfort that allowed us to open our hearts. We hiked a lot together all around here, which is why we love it here. He hated people who littered. I just have to throw that out because that was something that really bothered him. I asked the Mahoneys for one small thing that each of us could do to celebrate Kevin's life. His daughter suggested that we each go on a hike and connect with nature, and his wife said we should pick up some of that litter along the way. Later, when I read the comments on the online post, my heart swelled. People were promising to go pick up litter in honor of Kevin Mahoney. It was all the evidence I needed. As tough as speaking out was, there was a tangible, positive outcome, and that's why I did it in the first place. After the adrenaline of interviews wore off, a new reality began to sink in. Like all Americans, we knew about the lives senselessly lost in mass shootings, and we worried about this possibility. But still, we never imagined it would be one of us. Never for a minute. It was not part of my reality, but it happened. Now our world revolved around trips to the justice center to meet with the district attorney and his team who would pursue the case against the shooter. Each of the 10 families who lost someone were partnered with three a victim witness specialist from the DA's office, a victim advocate from Boulder police and a public information officer to help with my media interviews. They would show up to our front door whenever we needed them. Although they had separate roles, they all morphed into helpers in my mind, answering any and all questions we had as we navigated the broken road ahead. One of our questions was, when can we get Dad's car back? It'd been sitting in the King Soopers parking lot ever since the shooting, in the same spot my dad had chosen to park but never got the chance to pull out of. Around four days later, we got the go ahead to pick it up. My brother wanted to be the one to get it. When he arrived at the Table Mesa Shopping center, the parking lot was still a crime scene, all blocked off. It was kind of interesting, to be honest, because it was like I was walking through a crime scene and I wanted to sit there and investigate. Officials set up a help center at the Chase bank next to the supermarket. As Drew waited for the car key, some of his closest friends showed up for support. He says the car smelled just like dad. Two cups of coffee sat cold in the center console. My dad always got one for today, and one for tomorrow, I think we had to, like, really squeeze everyone in. And I. And I drove. I shouldn't have driven it. I should have had someone else drive out of there. When he got home, he burst into the house, and I rushed to him as he collapsed on the floor. The groceries are still in the trunk, he explained. It was an awful reminder of just how close my dad came to getting out of there, how tomorrow should have come. My mom and I talked about whether we should use the groceries that hadn't gone bad. It felt wrong to just throw them out and wrong to cook with the ingredients. Drew tossed the cappuccinos. The milk had obviously spoiled. One of the fundamental basics of journalism is the five the who, what, when, where, and why. As the shooter was charged with more than 100 criminal counts, the motive remained unknown. He was from a town about 25 miles away. Why Boulder? Why King Soopers? Why? And why my dad at that exact moment? Boulder police Detective Sarah Khonsu says it was a massive crime scene. There's a lot to do. There's a lot to see. Trying to figure out who was where. We've got really good crime scene people. The best. You've got the FBI out there that's working the crime scene, but there's so many people that were evacuated out, and the scene has changed as people are driving away. Shell casings get caught up in tires. There's a lot that changes in the scene in an emergency like that. So putting all of the pieces together with the FBI, with all of the other agencies that helped us out was a lot. It was a big undertaking. Investigators began digging into why right away, but after following many leads, they were ultimately unable to find an answer. There was no why in this story. And you were, like, literally tasked with making sense of the senseless. Yeah, trying to. I don't. I don't know if we're ever going to know because we don't know why. And I think. I think everybody wants to know why. I want to know why. But putting together, I can tell the story. I can tell the story of what happened to the people that were in that store, and hopefully that can give some. That's the sense that I can make of everything, is I can tell the stories of what happened to the victims. The literal part of it. Yes, yes. Does it weigh on you that you can't provide the other part, the why? I just want to know. I don't know if it weighs on me so much, but to me, there's no reason. And I. I guess there's never a reason when it comes to murder. But at least some people have a reason. They can say, well, I did this because of this. We just don't know. And that's frustrating to me because if we don't know here, how do we ever prevent it from happening again? It's so random. It's 100% random. There's, I mean, we know from his phone that he was looking for places where people are. He was looking at other stores. He was looking for functions and events where people would be. He was looking for mass casualties. But that store, that day, that time, those people, completely random. I mean, it's just hard. It's like, how do we live with. How do we live with this? How do we live with this? Question mark I don't know the answer to that. I don't. How do I live with this senseless act? It's the question that set me on a journey of understanding, healing and discovery. I'm Erica Mahoney, and you're listening to Senseless. Next time on Senseless. We go back to that fateful day in Boulder as police and survivors try to make sense of what happened. It brings up that question of why am I? What is my purpose? Like, why was I saved? Senseless is written and reported by me, Erika Mahoney. I'm your host and executive producer. Christa Almanzan is our senior producer and executive editor. Original music, sound design and mastering by Hannis Brown. Audio editing and sound mixing by Jeremiah Edding. News clips in this episode are courtesy of NPR's Morning Edition, KGNU, Community Radio, CNN and Nine News Denver. This podcast was made possible by support from Community Foundation Boulder county and the Boulder County Arts Alliance. The episode was recorded at Coop Studios in Boulder, Colorado. Special thanks to Brad Turner. Executive producers for Lemonada Media are Jessica Cordova Kramer and Stephanie Whittles. Wax. Thanks so much for listening. You can follow Senseless wherever you get your podcasts or listen ad free on Amazon Music with your prime membership. If you haven't yet, now is a great time to subscribe to Lemonada Premium. You'll get exclusive content from Senseless, where we take a deeper dive into the web of pain caused by gun violence through extended conversations and fresh interviews. Just hit the subscribe button on Apple Podcast or for all other podcast apps, head to lemonadapremium.com that's lemonadapremium.com and coming up in the second premium episode, my friend and journalist David Kaplan finds himself on the other side of the story, too. Just imagine being 25, quite literally having the worst, worst day of your life. Your best friend has just been shot and killed on live television doing a job that you do every single day. Like, I remember that day as vividly as though it happened yesterday. That exclusive episode of Senseless is available now with Lemonada Premium. See you next time. Sa.