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Mourners outside Club Q in Colorado Springs in the wake of the nightclub shooting on Saturday night.
Mourners outside Club Q in Colorado Springs in the wake of the nightclub shooting on Saturday night. Photograph: Kevin Mohatt/Reuters
Mourners outside Club Q in Colorado Springs in the wake of the nightclub shooting on Saturday night. Photograph: Kevin Mohatt/Reuters

‘Enough is enough’: grief and anger in Colorado Springs over gay nightclub shooting

This article is more than 1 year old

Among the mourners outside Club Q, there was little doubt anti-LGBTQ hatred was a motivating factor in the deadly attack

While officials held off on releasing a motive in the shooting at an LGBTQ nightclub in Colorado Springs that killed at least five people and injured another 25, there was little doubt among the thousands of mourners who have now gathered across the city: they believe the motive was hate.

“It has to stop,” said the Rev Roger Butts of the All Souls Unitarian church, of what he described as a social and political landscape in the US rampant with anti-LGBTQ rhetoric and misinformation. “Enough is enough. We have to stand up.”

At a midday vigil on Sunday, Butts’s church in downtown Colorado Springs opened its doors to more than 700 people.

Located in the shadow of the southern Rocky Mountains, the Colorado city of nearly 500,000 residents is home to five nearby military bases and the staunchly anti-gay organization Focus on the Family.

It was hard growing up LGBTQ in the city, said 31-year-old Sarah Clark as she stood outside the vigil with a rainbow flag.

“There was very little visibility. It was very underground … Club Q was a safe space for people like me in a very conservative part of Colorado.”

Patrons described Club Q – the scene of Saturday’s deadly shooting – as so much more than a bar.

“Club Q was always a secondary home to a lot of us,” said Alex Clemons-Laput, an LGBTQ activist and lifelong resident of Colorado Springs.

After a number of local LGBTQ-friendly bars and advocacy organizations dwindled over the decades, Clemons-Laput said: “Club Q was really the heart of the community.”

There are regular family events held at the club, he said, attended by his two children.

It was described as a place that gave people a sense of belonging in an environment that otherwise could be hostile.

Clemons-Laput used to work with the now-defunct Pride Center in Colorado Springs, which he said had been “burned down and shot up” at different points in its history. His own car was also shot at, he said.

“We are soaking in violence in this town,” Butts said. “We are soaking in militarism in this town. We are soaking in guns in this town.”

Still, Butts said he remains hopeful that “a world of peace and radical acceptance is possible”.

In the year leading up to the Club Q shooting, more than 300 anti-LGBTQ bills were filed by lawmakers in the United States, along with a proliferation of anti-LGBTQ rhetoric on social media and from elected officials.

The Colorado congresswoman Brianna Titone, the state’s first out transgender state legislator, tweeted on Sunday: “When politicians and pundits keep perpetuating tropes, insults, and misinformation about the trans and LGBTQ+ community, this is a result.”

The far-right Republican congresswoman Lauren Boebert tweeted on Sunday: “This morning the victims & their families are in my prayers.”

However, given Boebert’s past usage of slurs when referring to transgender people, and warning drag queens to “stay away from the children” in her district, Titone responded to Boebert, tweeting: “You spreading tropes and insults contributed to the hatred for us. There’s blood on your hands.”

The investigation is still in its early stages and little information has been released about the 22-year-old suspect, who was injured and is in police custody.

However, many of the mourners on Sunday found more than coincidence in the fact that the shooting occurred shortly after a drag show ended at Club Q, and before a brunch had been scheduled for Sunday morning in honor of 20 November as the transgender day of remembrance, an annual observance since 1999 in honor of trans people killed in acts of anti-transgender violence.

A memorial to the victims of the nightclub attack. Photograph: Helen H Richardson/AP

The brunch was canceled, and instead rows of flowers steadily accumulated just outside the police tape near Club Q as law enforcement officials continued to process the crime scene.

Several organizations and individuals were on scene to pass out water bottles, cookies and flowers, and to provide any kind of emotional support they could.

Alison Reidy, mother to a gay and a trans son stood next to the police tape with the sign “Free Mom Hugs”.

And despite being a stranger to nearly all who took her up on the offer, the “dozens and dozens and dozens” of hugs she gave were tight, long, and emotional embraces.

“I can’t do much but I can come out and hug people,” Reidy said.

Asked if she was shocked by the shooting in her home town, “I want to say yes,” she said. “But no. It doesn’t surprise me any more. It’s not if it’s going to happen, it’s when and where.”

Angel Galeana, who describes himself as bisexual, stood outside the Unitarian church holding a bouquet of white flowers and a stuffed unicorn.

He moved to Colorado Springs just three months ago. Having recently turned 21, Galeana was planning to celebrate soon at Club Q.

“Waking up knowing I could have been there was horrifying,” he said. Still absorbing the shock, Galeana’s message on Sunday for others was to “support your friends in the LGBTQ community. Tell them they are loved. I know there is still hatred toward us. But as long as we support each other – and no one is alone – we will get through this.”

Clemons-Laput said he resisted normalizing the hate and the gun violence. “Why do we put up with these things we have the power to solve?”

Colorado Springs nightclub shooting: 'Our community is shattered' – video

He also emphasized the need to honor the people who died in Saturday’s shooting – but also not to forget about supporting those who were injured, and those who were traumatized. “Those are also people who will suffer for the rest of their lives. As a community we need to continue to help them.”

Of the two unidentified bar patrons who were able to tackle the suspect and probably prevent more deaths, Clemons-Laput said he was not at all surprised at the heroism. “I didn’t find that unexpected,” he said. “Not in the gay community. If you don’t fight back you end up dead. When you have people who want to stop you from being you – and stop you from loving who you want to love – you continue to have to battle.”

Clemons-Laput hopes that “out of the darkness” of Saturday’s shooting comes dialogue, education and a chance to move forward in a way that people can learn to disagree without becoming enemies.

“The LGBTQ community is going to rise because they always do,” Reidy said. “Because they protect their own. They are fierce. For everyone else – love will never hurt you. The gays are not coming for you. There is no agenda. It doesn’t hurt you to let people be themselves.”

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