Chapter 5
If any stage of grief is more non linear than depression, I think it’s acceptance. I continue to have bad days. In all honesty, this project has brought up a lot of emotions that I have pushed down since Borderline and the Hill and Woolsey fires.
But in the end, I’m more than willing to relive those feelings – to sit in front of a metaphorical window and reflect – if it means that the story of Thousand Oaks will be remembered in the way that it deserves. Mass shootings have come and gone even after Borderline, and wildfires in California are seen as normal, or as a price to pay for living here.
But Thousand Oaks should not be remembered for what happened in 2018. Yes, that is now a part of our story, but our community should be remembered for its resilience. In the face of pain and partisanship, loss of land and loss of life, we have grown.
“Right now, I'm good. And oddly, right after, I was okay. Well... I thought I was okay. And then on and off during the year it would sort of hit me. And then at the one year mark, when we started doing all the anniversary stories, I think that's when it hit me hardest, and I finally could let it out.”
-Becca Whitnall, Thousand Oaks Acorn reporter
The Healing Garden, pictured above, is located at Conejo Creek North Park in Thousand Oaks, and it was completed in time for the one year anniversary of the Borderline shooting and the fires that came after.
“When I need time to think and reflect, I usually just find somewhere quiet I can be by myself. There is a park I grew up next to that I’ve spent a lot of time at. That one is also a really personal spot because while the fires were happening, I read that the park was on fire. I assumed that meant everything was gone and I had completely lost a place that was really big in my childhood, but it turns out there really wasn’t much damage at all. I’m super grateful for that.”
-Riley Harris, USD student, Thousand Oaks resident
Though his wife frequents the Healing Garden to grieve the passing of their son at Borderline, Marc Orfanos does not go often. He does not like to grieve in a public space, and instead remembers his son in spaces around their house, like the backyard, or Telemachus’ room which is full of books.
“When I need to make those kind of connections, they are more around our home… I find no comfort in acknowledging death. I find comfort in acknowledging life.”
-Marc Orfanos, father of Telemachus Orfanos
When we talked about Borderline, Luke Bessolo mentioned how much he remembers enjoying dancing with his friends, especially the dance “Redneck Angel” and the corresponding song “The Middle”.
“[To reflect] I just try to remember what it was like. I picture myself on the dance floor, it's dark, and the speakers there were so loud that you could feel it in your chest. Whenever I think about it I just try to remember the best parts about it. Like when one of my favorite songs would come on and you could just hear it in your chest, and it's one of the line dances everyone knows. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.”
-Luke Bessolo, University of Arizona student, Borderline attendee
In talking to Shannon Ashlee McGee, who has been quoted in the captions throughout this project, she highlighted that the process of acceptance continues, even during a pandemic that forces most to stay apart.
“The zooms [weekly Zoom parties] help, and now we’ve been dancing in the streets, which has helped a lot. I’m very fortunate to be part of the Borderline family... I wish that day never happened, but this community came together like no other and we didn’t let evil win. We continued to dance no matter what.”
-Shannon Ashlee McGee, frequent Borderline attendee