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Las Vegas Shooting Survivor Explains Why He Won't 'Let Fear Change the Way I Live'
Mourners pay tribute at a makeshift memorial on the Las Vegas Strip for
the victims of a mass shooting in Las Vegas on Oct. 2, 2017. 'We Were All Sitting Ducks': Country Music Family Reflects On the Vegas Massacre.
Route 91 was Nick Champion's fifth festival with a group of
like-minded country fans that the 25-year-old met through line dancing
at Borderline Bar & Grill, a country bar near his hometown of
Thousand Oaks, California. His second year at the fest, Champion was
joined by about 70 or 80 of his Borderline friends -- but as the weekend
of fun and music climaxed with Jason Aldean's set Sunday night (Oct 1),
a gunman began opening fire on the crowd, partway through Aldean's set.
The attack ended up killing at least 58 and leaving more than 527 injured -- though miraculously, no one in Champion's large group was even harmed. But that doesn't erase the horrors they all witnessed. For some members, the experience has made them swear off music festivals altogether.
That's not the case for Champion, though, and after making it back to Thousand Oaks safely, he talked with Billboard about the night of the shooting from his and his friends' perspective – and about why he's decided he "won’t let fear change the way I live." Take a look at an edited transcript of what he said below.
The attack ended up killing at least 58 and leaving more than 527 injured -- though miraculously, no one in Champion's large group was even harmed. But that doesn't erase the horrors they all witnessed. For some members, the experience has made them swear off music festivals altogether.
That's not the case for Champion, though, and after making it back to Thousand Oaks safely, he talked with Billboard about the night of the shooting from his and his friends' perspective – and about why he's decided he "won’t let fear change the way I live." Take a look at an edited transcript of what he said below.
I
started going to Borderline in 2013. That’s pretty much how it all
started. I have a huge group, hundreds of people and friends, we all
line dance and stuff together in Southern California. We go to
Stagecoach and Route 91 every year, it’s a big thing for us. I think at
this one, there was probably 70 or 80 of us total, just scattered all
over the event.
[Sunday, before the shooting]
was pretty much perfect. After Big & Rich, I went over to the
smaller Nashville stage and then met up with a group of girls that I
ended up being with [the rest of the night]. We went over to main stage
for Jake Owen, and then after Jake Owen some people left, so we kind of
moved closer and more to the right where we ended up being for Jason
Aldean. Everything was just going pretty much perfect.
Probably
around five songs in, if I remember correctly -- it was during “When She
Says Baby" -- it sounded almost like a cross between fireworks and a
crackle type of sound. We all looked toward the west because that’s
where it sounded like it came from, and then kind of looked at each
other like, “Well, that was weird. Not quite sure what that was.” And
then after a second or two, just kind of went, “OK, whatever,” and
started looking back at the stage. A couple seconds after that was when
more gunshots started. The first -- that little burst -- sounded like
maybe around 10 shots. That was more like the barrages that you hear on
video.
But even when the first real one started, we all kind of
looked around like, “What exactly is going on?” People started backing
away a little bit, but because I was with a group of six girls, really, I
was thinking, “Chill out, everyone” because I don’t want everyone to
start running, and then have the girls I’m with start getting run over.
And then, I remember looking back over my shoulder toward the stage and
seeing the band start running off stage, and that was when I snapped
into sober mode. At the start of the day, I said, “I’m going hard. It’s
the last day.” But I went from drunk to snap-sober as soon as I saw the
band moving off the stage. It was pretty much just a complete snap. What
I was hearing, and the sound I was hearing, was the worst thing it
could be.
You could see people dropping. You could hear shots
hitting. But a lot of people were dropping, and you couldn’t tell who
was dropping because they were getting shot and who was dropping because
they’re dropping. On our side, we started moving because everybody
realized what was going on. We started moving to the northeast and got
20 or 30 feet, and then you could feel the shots shift closer to our
side. You could just feel it -- you could hear it, you could feel it. I
guess he was just kind of spraying around, because the crowd was so big.
Because
I was with that group of girls, I kind of snapped into, “My job is now
just to get them out.” Everybody on the entire side for the most part
just seemed to drop to the floor when we could hear the shots shift over
to our side for a couple seconds. Feeling everybody in the area drop to
the floor, it was the weirdest feeling. And seeing people dropping, and
knowing that some of them are dropping not voluntarily.
I’ll
never forget the sound. Hearing the difference between shots hitting
pavement and hitting the Astroturf, hitting stage equipment and railing
and metal, stuff like that, and the difference between those three and
it hitting people. I could hear that people were getting hit.
Whoever
it was [shooting], it seemed like it was more than one [shooter],
because the shots were so rapid, and that they were inside, because it
was a lot louder than you’d think it would be for how far away he ended
up being. So I looked back over my shoulder to the west to see if they
were on top of us or if they were next to us, to see how close they were
so I knew what direction to go. The girls were on the floor, and I
said, “Get up and don’t stop.”
I was trying to look around as we
were running to see still where it was coming from and to try and make
sure we went the right direction, and also to see if there was anyone
else around me. There was six girls [with me], and once we got up again
and started running, there were only three. I was looking around trying
to see where the other three went because they just weren’t right in
front of me anymore and they were before. I didn’t know which direction
they went, so I just decided I was going to stay with the three that
were right around me.
And then we ran out the makeshift gate, in
the middle of the festival if you’re going from the stage to the
Nashville stage, halfway-ish. I remember running past it and looking,
and there was at least 10 people just hiding right behind it. There was
obviously hundreds of us running out. And I remember looking back,
seeing a lot of people that were just laying on the ground not moving,
and I remember thinking, “This is not good.”
A lot of people just
froze. They laid on the ground and just kind of sat there and didn’t
know what to do. In general, there’s two responses: You’re either going
to act quickly, or you’re going to freeze up. It was really frustrating
for me to see how many people couldn’t make a decision, and it kind of
broke my heart knowing that people didn’t know what to do. But obviously
they didn’t know where it was coming from, there’s no way people in the
first couple minutes knew that he was that high and that laying down
wasn’t going to help them at all. But in my mind it was, “Are they on
top of us? No? We’re getting out.”
[We kept] running east -- there
was a ton of us -- we went through a couple properties over some fences
and walls, stuff like that. And then eventually got to Tropicana Avenue
a little farther down. The stream of emergency vehicles coming down
Tropicana was constant, it was nonstop, and it was just insane.
People
were running through the street, and there were cars pulling over and
asking, “What the hell is going on?” and people were just yelling. The
girls I was with were calling their parents, they were having a really
hard time. A cab pulled over and asked the girls if they wanted to get
in, and so that’s pretty much what we did. We got in the cab and it took
us to their Airbnb, which was just east of the airport. We were pretty
far away within 10 or 15 minutes.
Once I got into the cab, I
started calling people I knew from the group that were there and trying
to see where everybody’s at and if they’re alive. Once we got to the
Airbnb, that’s when the main effort of everybody connecting and trying
to fill in the gaps of who saw who, who knows who’s okay, who talked to
this person, who’s missing, who have we not heard from, all that. It was
a nonstop frenzy of the entire group, all trying to coordinate and
figure out if everyone’s accounted for or not. I was kind of waiting the
whole time to see who it was going to be that we weren’t going to hear
from.
Then a couple hours later, the other girls showed up -- they
had been at the airport. They were on the runway, hearing about that
was pretty crazy. I know a truck had knocked down the fences, somebody
in a truck broke down one of the fences along the side of the airport so
people could run through.
I wanted to go back [to the grounds],
because I knew a lot of my friends were first responders back here or
military or ex-military, and I knew that they were going to be trying to
help, and I wanted to do the same thing. The only reason I didn’t was
because I was with the girls, and they were not in a good spot. If I had
ran out on my own and gotten a quarter, half-mile away, I probably
would’ve stopped, thought about it and then gone back.
My friend
Sarah said she was really glad I was with them, and they don’t know if
they would’ve done the same thing if they were by themselves. That kind
of makes me feel like I had a bigger impact -- obviously I would’ve
wanted to help more people, but at least knowing that things might not
have gone the same for them if I wasn’t around made me feel better about
that. We both kind of felt guilty that we didn’t go back in… I guess
that’s normal though. But out of pretty much everybody that I personally
know and talk to, nobody got hurt at all, which is pretty insane. We
got really lucky.
My truck, the whole time, was in the Luxor
parking lot, and I knew my best friend was in Luxor -- that’s where she
ran to -- so I knew that’s where I was going, I just didn’t know when I
was going to be able to get over there. So I got an Uber back towards
the Strip -- we couldn’t get in, so I had him drop me off on the freeway
and then I hopped over the concrete barrier on the side and the fence
to Frank Sinatra Drive and I went in the back of Luxor to meet up with
my best friend. That was around 5:00 a.m.
She was in the lobby,
and we kind of sighed and looked at each other. It’s just so many
different emotions and thoughts all at the same time. I think once the
sun came up is when you really started playing stuff in your head.
Yesterday, at work, it was just a never-ending, three-minute movie
trailer just running over and over [in my head]. I was telling my
friend, it’s almost like I keep replaying it like I’m going to see
something new, or some new detail I’m going to notice that I didn’t
before. But, it’s always the exact same.
I think, overall, what I
kind of have taken from this is that we need people that make good
decisions, and that think clearly in situations like this -- people that
are going to make quick decisions and make the right ones. I think
about those videos they make you watch at school or work about active
shooters. If I’m ever in the room with one of those [playing] again, I’m
probably going to say something like, “I would like everyone to pay
attention and take it seriously, what we’re watching, and think about
what you would do in a situation so that you’re prepared when it
happens. Because it could happen to you.”
I’ve thought about it --
I think every guy, at least, for the most part, has thought about what
they would do. Because as kids we grow up playing with toy guns and
acting out war scenes, so in your head you kind of imagine what you
might do in a certain situation. But when it’s real, it’s not the same
thing.
I hesitate to say that [it was like war], because in my
head I keep trying to downplay it – like, “Oh, I didn’t get any blood on
me, I didn’t see anyone’s face shot off.” Because I know a lot of
people who have been in that situation, and I don’t want to equate it to
the same thing. But in some ways, it was exactly… people were just
getting torn up. In my head, the only movie I can think of that I would
compare it to would be the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan.
That’s probably the worst thing I’ll ever see in my life. You don’t
want to say that for sure, because you don’t want to jinx it -- but for
it to get worse than that, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to have to
find out.
One thing that’s really weird -- I’ve been to at least
10 concerts, festivals, whatever, and I’ve never bought one piece of
merchandise, ever. And on Friday when I walked in the gate, I took five
steps in, looked at the merchandise tent, and decided I’ll go check it
out. I ended up buying the lineup poster and a 4x6-foot Route 91 flag. I
remember thinking, “I feel like this weekend is going to be one for the
books, and I’m going to want to remember it.”
We’re going to be
hanging the Route 91 flag up at our college night tonight at Borderline.
We’re going to be doing a little moment of silence. The poster [I
bought], I’ll probably frame it with my wristbands and keep it
somewhere. I think when I go to Stagecoach in April, I have a truck, so
I’m going to probably put an American flag and the Route 91 flag up in
the bed and keep that up while I’m in Indio.
A lot of people [from
my group of friends] have already said they’re never going to anything
again. It sucks, because having the atmosphere we have, it’s something
that’s allowed us to have a better time than other people. We have a
better time than 98 percent of people that go to these, just because we
have such a big group. And thinking about the fact that that’s going to
change is kind of heartbreaking.
If they have [Route 91] again
next year -- I don’t think they will, or I think it’ll be somewhere else
or under a different name -- but I’m still gonna go. And I’m still
gonna go to Stagecoach. Even though I’ll never be as comfortable again
in that kind of setting, whether it’s concerts, clubs, bars, anything
where there’s a big group of people in any kind of confined space, I’m
never going to be as comfortable again. But it’s not going to stop me,
and I don’t want to let fear change the way I live.
Obviously,
we’re not going to have everybody [at the next festival], but I think
I’m going to try to get people to kind of change and think of it in a
different way if I can. Because I think it’s something -- it’ll stick
with you in a deeper way and for a longer amount of time if you don’t at
least try to force yourself, even if you are truly forcing yourself in
the beginning, to try to get past it and not let it affect you in a way
that’s profound. The bottom line is we’re never going to forget it, so I
think you don’t have to try to forget it.
I’m sure the first few,
it’s gonna be a lot more difficult to have the same amount of fun. I
think over time, if you just kind of force yourself to keep putting
yourself in those positions, eventually it’ll get easier. It’ll get
better.
Hopefully tonight (Oct. 4), I’m going to see as many of
them as possible, and that’s going to probably help a lot. I’m really
anxious to see everybody and as many people that were there, especially,
as possible. A big thing is, until I see someone in person, I don’t
know if my brain really completely believes that they’re fine. I just
feel like I need to see them in person to know 100 percent that
everything’s fine with them -- physically, at least.
I don’t know
how I’m going to react once we all are there, doing our moment that
we’re going to do. We’ll see. But people who were there, you just kind
of look at each other and you’re like, “We kind of have this thing now.”
You know what I mean? Just, “You were there -- you know.” That feeling.
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