Five Years Later: A Reflection on the Walmart Tragedy
TRIGGER WARNING: The following story includes references to gun violence and the mass casualty that took place on August 3rd, 2019, in El Paso, Texas. We empower you to decide if this content is safe for you; if not, we welcome you to read the other journal entries on our website, here.
The Grand Candela Memorial in El Paso is a 30-foot tall obelisk to commemorate the victims and survivors of the Walmart shooting. Photo taken by Briana Vargas for the Texas Tribune, 2020
Today, August 3rd, marks the fifth anniversary of the mass tragedy that took place in El Paso, Texas, in 2019. On this day, we remember the 23 lives taken, the lives still with us today who endured the pain and fear on the day of – and the community of El Paso that will forever be changed.
On the fifth anniversary of this tragedy, we’re honored to share a personal reflection by Attorney Bernadette Segura, a TRLA Staff Attorney of over a decade, a native El Pasoan, and a mother of three, who was part of TRLA’s first-responder team after the El Paso mass casualty.
In this personal reflection, Attorney Segura recalls that Saturday morning, the days and months after the shooting, and reflects where she is today, five years later.
Our heart stands with the El Paso community on this day.
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It’s been five years.
Five years since that mass text on Saturday morning alerted my entire county about an active shooter at the Walmart near Cielo Vista Mall.
It has been five years since I stepped into my grandma’s “favorite Walmart.”
Five years of looking for the emergency exits every time I go grocery shopping.
Five years of looking over my shoulder.
Before August 3rd, 2019, mass shootings were not something I worried about. I thought that my corner of Texas was insulated. We’re over a seven-hour drive away from any major Texas city. We’re closer to the Pacific Ocean than we are to Houston. We are the only city in Texas in a different time zone – Mountain Standard Time, better known as El Paso Time.
It all changed on the morning of August 3rd, when an angry young man with a gun walked into a Walmart in my hometown, shooting everyone in his path regardless of their age, color, nationality, creed, or purpose at the store. He wore ear and eye protection while he pulled the trigger.
Five years ago, I still worked for TRLA as a public benefits attorney, taking cases in several other legal specialization areas.
Five years ago, I was pregnant with my third son, watching my other two sons play Minecraft on a Saturday morning, sipping my coffee.
Everything happened fast after that.
I immediately started fielding calls from people, checking if I was safe. It wasn’t until the evening and the following day that I started getting calls from social workers I’d previously worked with. They wanted to know what to do if their hospital was trying to discharge someone from the shooting if they could give my number to a patient, and what legal aid was going to do.
In the blink of an eye, TRLA attorneys worked to establish a place for us in the community response to help advise our neighbors. We wanted to help, to guide. We started TRLA on a journey to provide legal aid response after a mass shooting. We did what we could. We advised clients. El Paso attorneys joined the committee to help our community decide what to do with all the money that would be donated in the aftermath.
What we didn’t know, we figured out as we went. We “faked it ‘till we made it,” and now other legal aids are looking to us for help dealing with gun violence in their service areas regularly.
After five years, I look around my life and my office, and I see reminders of the work I’ve done in the aftermath of a mass casualty event. I’ve “worked” on two legal aid responses to mass casualty events, and I issue spot so many others I read about in the news. I think about the families coming to the legal aid for help. I think about the different legal specialization areas that could help. I think about the attorneys who might be caught off guard by the situation or are leveled by the trauma. I think about the legal aids already being overwhelmed with cases; they may not have the resources or staff to handle an influx of “unusual” cases.
“Five years later, I’m forever changed, mostly for the better.”
Five years later, my practice area and specializations now include legal aid response to a mass casualty event.
Five years later, I’m good at thinking about how little money can damage a family’s household. Five years later, I drive by Walmart and remember the specific details of client cases, their faces, and their medical records.
Five years later, I look at my community and I still see the ripple effects of that one young man’s actions.
Five years later, I still think about that morning when I sat with my sons, watching them play Minecraft.
Five years later, I’m forever changed, mostly for the better.