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Imagine having your only family member taken from you in an act of violence while shopping at Walmart.

When Margie Reckard was killed in the mass shooting in El Paso, Texas, 61-year-old Antonio Basco was left with no living relatives. Basco and Reckard had been married for 22 years.

"Me and my wife had a bond, a magnificent bond," Basco told CNN. "I never felt anything like that in my life." He said they had "a wonderful life" together.

Basco has spent every day since the shooting visiting a makeshift memorial for his wife outside of the Walmart where Reckard was shot and killed. He prays for her and talks to her. He even slept there one night.


"I can't stay away from here," Basco told CNN. "All I know is that my wife never hurt someone."

It's a heartbreaking story with a heartwarming twist. Basco has invited the public to his wife's funeral, and the supportive responses from fellow El Paso residents, as well as the rest of the country, have been overwhelming.

Perches Funeral Home posted a Facebook invitation to Reckard's funeral, and in two days it's already been shared 14,000 times. In fact, the response has been so great that the location of the funeral had to be changed to a bigger venue.

The funeral home has a capacity of 250, but at least 1,000 people are expected to come.

"We're getting calls constantly, every two or three minutes," Harrison Johnson, the funeral director at Perches Funeral Homes, told NPR. "It really surprised us." Dozens of people have already ordered flowers for the funeral as well.

People have joined Basco at his wife's Walmart memorial to offer their support. A local journalist, Carlos Armendáriz, even set up a GoFundMe page for Basco after taking his photo at the memorial and getting a strong response from people. "My intention was that people can help him as much as they can," Armendáriz told CNN.

"If it wasn't for all of these people, I don't know how I would make it," Basco said.

El Paso was rocked to its core by the mass shooting, by far the worst act of violence the peaceful community has seen. The gunman, who had penned a white supremacist manifesto explaining his motive, drove ten hours to the border city specifically to kill Mexican immigrants. Basco's wife was not his intended target, but hatred has a habit of harming indiscriminately.

RELATED: Most domestic terrorism comes from white supremacists, FBI tells lawmakers

The support that Basco is receiving is wonderful, and the way El Paso has come together in the wake of such a tragedy highlights the humanity that resides there. There is beauty in the response to this tragedy.

But it's a tragedy that never should have happened in the first place. Basco shouldn't be planning this funeral. I shouldn't be writing this article. Because the greatest country with the greatest economy that espouses the greatest freedoms and the greatest political system in the world should not be a country where people fear being shot to death while grocery shopping.

Or sitting in a movie theater.

Or attending a concert.

Or walking down a high school hallway.

Or practicing subtraction in a first-grade classroom.

In no other developed nation do children regularly rehearse what to do if a gunman enters their school. In no other developed nation do school custodians and secretaries have to learn what various kinds of bullet wounds look like in a child's body. In no other developed nation do citizens walk into a public place and immediately plan for what they'll do if someone comes in and starts shooting. That thought is rightfully horrific to people on the outside looking in.

Of course, mass shootings are not the primary sources of our gun violence rates. But the fact is that guns kill as many Americans as car accidents (in fact, more in 2017). Twice as many children died from gun violence in America as police officers and soldiers combined from 2013 to 2017. Toddlers shoot and kill more Americans than foreign-born terrorists.

We. Have. A. Problem.

RELATED: Twice as many American children die from gun violence as police officers and soldiers combined

Rather than do what every other developed nation has done—enact nationwide gun legislation that requires some combination of background checks, waiting periods, safe storage, limits on ammunition, and mandatory basic safety and usage training—to try to prevent the carnage, we rehearse for it. We accept the underlying fear and the sacrifice of children as the price we pay for America's gun obsession. We accept that a toddler pulling a gun out of his mom's purse and shooting her in the grocery store is just another manifestation of freedom. We accept a man losing his only family member in a mass shooting as the price we pay for an unreasonable attachment to and interpretation of an amendment written when guns couldn't shoot 36 people in under 30 seconds.

I hope that thousands show up to Marie Reckard's funeral to bear witness to the senseless loss of her life. I hope Antonio Basco feels uplifted by this outpouring of support from the masses. I hope the country they and millions of others whose lives have been impacted by gun violence call home finally decides that we've sacrificed enough Americans at the altar of gun rights.


On Friday, July 14, demonstrators will march more than 20 miles from the NRA headquarters in Fairfax, Virginia, to the Department of Justice in Washington, D.C.

The organizers behind January's much-lauded Women's March are hosting the peaceful, mass-mobilization effort in response to a dangerous, fear-mongering advertisement created by the NRA. The 60-second video seems to be a thinly veiled call to arms against progressive voices (particularly those protesting President Trump and his ilk) and people of color.

Protests erupted in Minnesota after Officer Jeronimo Yanez was acquitted on all counts in the shooting death of Philando Castile. Photo by Stephen Maturen/Getty Images.


Women of all backgrounds and political beliefs deserve to feel safe in their communities, but instead, many are being bullied into silence.

So until equality and justice prevail, they will march.

A statement from the NRA2DOJ Facebook event laid out the impetus for the mass demonstration.

"Recent actions of the NRA demonstrate not only a disregard for the lives of black and brown people in America, but appear to be a direct endorsement of violence against women, our families and our communities for exercising our constitutional right to protest. On July 14th, Women’s March and partners will mobilize a mass demonstration, again grounded in the principles of Kingian nonviolence, to denounce the false and intimidating rhetoric of hatred and send a clear message that our movement will proudly and bravely continue to strive for the respect of the civil and human rights of all people."

A woman holds up a tapestry that says 'BLACK LIVES MATTER' on the steps of the Minnesota State Capitol building. Photo by Stephen Maturen/Getty Images.

This is much bigger than an inflammatory video. Gun violence is a national issue that puts women at considerable risk.

Piecemeal federal and state-level laws do a poor job of keeping guns out of the hands of convicted domestic abusers and stalkers. Federal laws that prohibit domestic abusers from owning guns don't apply to dating partners or those convicted of misdemeanor-level stalking. And even with federal laws in place, officials often don't have the manpower to enforce these laws at the local level. And the laws mean little when people can buy guns from unlicensed private sellers without a background check.

In more than 50% of mass shootings, the shooter killed a family member or current or former spouse or intimate partner, according to research by Everytown for Gun Safety. In 18% of mass shootings, the shooter had been previously charged with domestic violence. These patterns are too clear to ignore.

[rebelmouse-image 19528706 dam="1" original_size="750x390" caption="Ismaiiyl Brinsley, Robert Lewis Dear, and Esteban Santiago are attackers with a history of domestic violence. Photos via Cobb County Sheriff's Office/Getty Images, Handout/Getty Images, and Handout/Getty Images." expand=1]Ismaiiyl Brinsley, Robert Lewis Dear, and Esteban Santiago are attackers with a history of domestic violence. Photos via Cobb County Sheriff's Office/Getty Images, Handout/Getty Images, and Handout/Getty Images.

Women's March hopes this mass mobilization effort will lead the NRA to take the following actions:

  1. Remove the irresponsible video advertisements from the group's social networks.
  2. Apologize for suggesting, encouraging, or inciting violence against communities of color and people who disagree with the Trump administration.
  3. Release a statement defending Philando Castile's Second Amendment rights. Castile — a black concealed carry permit holder with a registered weapon — was shot and killed by Officer Jeronimo Yanez during a traffic stop. Yanez was recently acquitted of all charges, but the NRA has yet to defend Castile's rights or concealed carry privileges, leaving many to wonder if the advocacy group cares about the rights of people of color.

Given the NRA's apparent attitude toward apologies, these demands are a long shot.

Their initial response to an open letter from Women's March was a video titled, "We Don't Apologize for Telling the Truth."

But, ultimately, nothing can stand in the way of women with passion, political might, and persistence. Absolutely nothing.

Photo by Emma McIntyre/Getty Images.

On Monday, April 10, Cedric Anderson walked into North Park Elementary School, where he killed his wife, Karen Smith, as well as a student and, ultimately, himself.

A police officer responds to the shooting at North Park Elementary School. Photo by David McNew/Getty Images.

According to a Los Angeles Times report, Smith, a teacher at the school, was in the process of attempting to divorce Anderson when he murdered her.


Outwardly, Anderson was a doting husband — prone to over-the-top declarations of love. His history of domestic violence allegations suggests a darker story.

While it's unclear what exactly transpired between Anderson and Smith before the shooting, her family reports that she was terrified of her husband, refused to talk about their relationship, and even went into hiding at one point.

Anderson (L) and Smith (R). Photos via San Bernardino Police Department via AP.

When relationships turn abusive — or potentially so — friends and family of the victim are often prone to wonder: "Why doesn't he or she simply leave?"

In Smith's case, she did leave. And she was murdered.

"Leaving is not always the immediate safest choice for somebody," says Bryan Pacheco, public relations director for Safe Horizon, an organization that assists victims of relationship and familial abuse.

Frequently, leaving an abusive partner can increase the danger to the victim. One study, which surveyed data from three cities in three English-speaking countries, concluded that women were three times more likely to be murdered by estranged or former husbands than by their current spouses.

"In an attempt to get the victim to stay, abusers will escalate their tactics," Pacheco says. "They’ll escalate the abuse. They’ll escalate the coercion. They’ll escalate the abusive behavior in an attempt to get that person to stay."

To help provide victims with a way out, organizations like Safe Horizon try to mitigate the risks abusive relationships can pose, even when they're nominally over.

Photo by Frederic J. Brown/AFP/Getty Images.

Part of what made Anderson such a danger to Smith was his familiarity with her routine: He knew where she worked — and he most likely knew that, as her spouse, he could access her workplace without raising suspicion.

When Safe Horizon makes contact with a victim who wants to break up with an abusive partner, it helps them come up with a safety plan, which entails determining the least risky time to leave — often when the abuser is at work, on vacation, or on a lunch break.

Shelter locations, where victims might temporarily relocate, aren't made public to prevent stalking or worse. A victim who leaves might be placed in a shelter in a different neighborhood or neighboring town to minimize the risk of running into their abuser.

"This is where you sort of understand how difficult it is to leave, because often someone might have to uproot their life for their safety," Pacheco explains.

For friends and family members, it can be heartbreaking not to urge loved ones to leave their abusive partners.

Pointed questioning can cause victims to shut down, as Smith reportedly did with members of her family. Victims might be hesitant to end their relationships for fear of further violence, and individual situations are nuanced and complex.

A bus waits outside of North Park Elementary School. Photo by Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images.

The best thing loved ones can do, Pacheco says, is offer unconditional support — and connect them to organizations that have the resources and expertise to assist.

"Use language that they’re using," he explains. "Maybe you notice a physical mark. You can say something like, 'I notice that you have this scar on your arm. What happened?' and sort of determine how comfortable they are speaking to that."

More importantly, friends and family can simply be present when victims are ready to seek aid.

And the most helpful thing?

"It’s really just to believe somebody," Pacheco says.

Fearing disbelief can dissuade victims from leaning on their loved ones for support. It makes it difficult for victims to go to the police to report early warning signs. And, most critically, it can dissuade them from seeking a safe way out.

Simply believing victims could go a long way to making tragedies like Smith's far less common.

On June 12, 2016, the worst mass shooting in U.S. history took place at Pulse, a prominent LGBTQ nightclub in Orlando, Florida.

The tragedy rocked the entire country (and world). But it was especially devastating to the Orlando community.

Photo by Gerardo Mora/Getty Images.


It was a day that won't soon be forgotten in central Florida.

More than four months later — and just two miles down the road from where the atrocity took place — the NBA's Orlando Magic dedicated its season opener on Oct. 26, 2016, to those who lost their lives this past summer.

"I couldn’t be more proud of this community,’’ said Magic CEO Alex Martins of Orlando's coming together in the months since. "I will be shocked if there’s a dry eye in the audience tonight."

Brandon Jennings, who played for the Orlando Magic last year. Photo by Maddie Meyer/Getty Images.

Performer Brandon Parsons sang “Forty-Nine Times,” a heart-wrenching song dedicated to the 49 victims of the shooting.

“Tonight, we honor their lives, the heroes who emerged that early morning, and a healing community that showed the world love always conquers hate,” the team's announcer told the filled stadium.

A rainbow-colored banner, printed with the number 49 and all the names of those who were killed, hung from the rafters.

Photo by John Raoux/AP Photo.

"It will be our way of making sure that we don’t forget those who lost their lives in this tragedy," Martins said of the colorful banner.

Players' warm-up shirts sported a rainbow heart and the #OrlandoUnited hashtag, paying special tribute to those affected.

Orlando Magic player Elfrid Payton. Photo by John Raoux/AP Photo.

Magic fans used the #OrlandoUnited hashtag on social media to share how the pre-game events went far beyond basketball.

Since June, the Orlando Magic have stood with other local athletic groups in solidarity with Pulse and the city's LGBTQ community.

In the aftermath of the shooting, the Magic — along with Orlando City Soccer Club and the Orlando Solar Bears ice hockey team — funneled millions of dollars into the OneOrlando Fund, which is aiding victims' families and survivors during their time of recovery.

Between the Magic organization and the DeVos family, which owns the team, $500,000 was given to the charitable fund.

Photo by Gerardo Mora/Getty Images.

Last night's dedication was particularly moving because it showed a pro sports team proudly standing alongside the LGBTQ community.

That's big.

Homophobia and transphobia in sports are still very real, especially in the U.S. That's why groups like Athlete Ally are so critical — they combat the various forms of discrimination queer men and women face in locker rooms and on athletic courts everywhere.

Retired NBA player Jason Collins. Photo by Alex Goodlett/Getty Images.

It's an injustice many athletes, like retired NBA player Jason Collins, know all too well.

"I want to do the right thing and not hide anymore," Collins, who was the first NBA player to come out as gay in 2013, said of his decision to live openly. "I want to march for tolerance, acceptance and understanding. I want to take a stand and say, 'Me, too.'"

In Florida, #OrlandoUnited has proven to be so much more than a catchy hashtag.

It's reflective of a community that gets why we all hurt when one group hurts. When one family mourns, we all bear the pain.

And when we heal together, it shows why no amount of hate — or bigotry, or some warped idea of morality — can prevent love from conquering hate.

Photo by Manel Ngan/AFP/Getty Images.