It’s been over a decade since the news broke about the Century 16 theater. You probably remember where you were. I do. It was one of those moments that just stops everything. But as the years crawl by, the legal battles and the headlines about the shooter tend to drown out the people who actually mattered. The victims of the aurora shooting weren’t just statistics or "souls lost." They were people with unfinished laundry, favorite movies, and complicated lives.
We talk about "The Twelve" a lot. It sounds like a title. It’s not. It’s twelve distinct lives that got cut short in a dark room full of popcorn and flickering light. When we look back at July 20, 2012, we shouldn’t be looking at the court cases. We should be looking at the people who were just trying to see a midnight premiere of The Dark Knight Rises.
Who They Really Were
Jonathan Blunk was 26. He was a Navy veteran. He had three tours under his belt. When the shooting started, he didn't run. He pushed his friend, Jansen Young, under the theater seat and shielded her with his body. He died doing that. It’s the kind of split-second heroics you see in movies, but it happened in a theater in Colorado. He left behind a wife and two small kids.
Then there’s Alexander J. Boik. Most people called him AJ. He was 18 and had just graduated from Gateway High School. He was the kind of guy who loved making people laugh. He was headed to the Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design. He had a whole life of creating things ahead of him. He was at the theater with his girlfriend, Lasamoa Cross. They were planning a future. That’s the thing about these tragedies—it’s not just the person who dies; it’s the entire timeline of their potential future that gets erased.
Jesse Childress was 29. He was a staff sergeant in the Air Force. He was a cyber-systems operator. People who worked with him at Buckley Air Force Base talked about how he was the guy you could always rely on. He was also a big sports fan. He played on softball and bowling teams. He was just a guy out with friends on a Thursday night.
The Youngest Among Them
It’s hard to talk about Veronica Moser-Sullivan. She was only 6. Honestly, it’s the part of the story that still feels the heaviest. She had just started school. She was excited about life. Her mother, Ashley Moser, was also shot and ended up paralyzed, losing her unborn baby as well. It’s a level of loss that most of us can’t even begin to wrap our heads around.
When people search for information on the victims of the aurora shooting, they often find the grim details of the crime scene. But Veronica should be remembered for being a little girl who liked to play and learn, not for being the youngest victim of a mass casualty event.
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The Bravery of Ordinary People
Gordon Cowden was the oldest person killed. He was 51. He took his two teenage daughters to the movie. He was a small business owner. He was described as a "true Texas gentleman" even though he lived in Aurora. He loved the outdoors. When the chaos started, his focus was entirely on his kids. They survived. He didn't.
Sacrifice in Theater 9
John Larimer was 27. He was a Navy Petty Officer 3rd Class. Like Jonathan Blunk, John used his body to protect his girlfriend. He was a cryptologic technician. He grew up in Crystal Lake, Illinois. His family remembers him as a guy with a great sense of humor who loved his job.
Matt McQuinn was also 27. He was there with his girlfriend, Samantha Yowler. When the shots started, he dove on top of her. He took the bullets. She survived, but she had to live with the weight of that sacrifice. It’s a heavy thing to carry. You spend the rest of your life wondering why you were the one who got to stay.
Micayla Medek was 23. She called herself "Cayla." she was a student at the Community College of Aurora. She worked at Subway. She was a huge Green Bay Packers fan. Her family waited for hours at a nearby high school to find out what happened to her. The waiting is often the worst part for the families. That period of limbo where you still have a tiny shred of hope, even though you know deep down that the news is going to be bad.
Career Dreams and Stolen Moments
Jessica Ghawi was a budding sports journalist. You might know her as Jessica Redfield. She had actually survived a shooting at a mall in Toronto just a month before the Aurora tragedy. She wrote a blog post about how fragile life is after that Toronto incident. It’s haunting to read now. She was 24. She was vibrant, ambitious, and she was doing the work to make her dreams happen.
Alexander "Alex" Teves was 24. He had just earned his master’s degree in counseling from the University of Denver. He was a guy who spent his time helping others. He was a "hero" in every sense—he also shielded his girlfriend, Amanda Lindgren, during the attack. His parents, Caren and Tom Teves, became some of the most vocal advocates for victims' rights after the shooting. They started the "No Notoriety" movement, which asks the media to stop showing the faces and names of killers and focus on the victims instead.
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The Last of the Twelve
Rebecca Wingo was 32. She was a mother of two daughters. She was a veteran of the Air Force and worked as a customer service representative. She was also a student. She was busy. She was active. She was living a full, chaotic, beautiful life.
Alexander "Alex" Sullivan was celebrating his 27th birthday that night. It was also his first wedding anniversary. He was a big guy with a big heart. He loved movies. He worked at a movie theater himself (a different one). He was exactly where he wanted to be on his birthday—at the movies.
The Ripple Effect of Survival
We talk about the twelve who died, but the victims of the aurora shooting also include the 70 people who were injured. Some were paralyzed. Some lost limbs. All of them walked away with PTSD that doesn't just "go away" because the trial ended.
Take Caleb Medley. He was an aspiring comedian. He was shot in the eye and suffered a massive brain injury. He survived, but his life was permanently altered. He couldn't speak or walk for a long time. His wife gave birth to their son just days after the shooting while Caleb was in a medically induced coma. These are the stories that don't always make the "anniversary" segments on the news, but they are the reality of what gun violence does to a community.
The Trauma of the Uninjured
Then there are the people who weren't hit by bullets but were in the room. They had to run over bodies. They had to listen to the sounds. The psychological toll on the survivors in Aurora is immense. Many struggled with substance abuse or lost their jobs in the years following. The support systems for victims are often temporary, but the trauma is permanent.
Lessons We Keep Learning (Or Not)
The Aurora shooting changed how we go to the movies. It changed security protocols. It sparked endless debates about gun control and mental health. But for the families, it didn't change the fact that there’s an empty chair at every Thanksgiving dinner.
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The Problem with Notoriety
One of the biggest takeaways from the Aurora tragedy, largely thanks to the Teves family, is the shift in how we talk about these events. There’s a push to starve these shooters of the fame they crave. When we focus on the victims of the aurora shooting, we deny the perpetrator the legacy he wanted. We choose to remember the Navy vet, the aspiring journalist, and the 6-year-old girl instead of the person who tried to erase them.
Limitations of Support
It’s worth noting that the financial support for victims is often messy. After Aurora, there were disputes about how the millions in donated funds were distributed. Some victims felt the process was opaque. It highlights a recurring issue in the U.S.: we are great at reacting to tragedy with donations, but we aren't great at long-term care for survivors.
Actionable Ways to Honor the Victims
If you’re reading this because you want to do something, don’t just read the names. Act.
- Support the No Notoriety Movement: When a tragedy happens, share the stories of the victims, not the shooter. Avoid clicking on articles that use the killer's name as a "hook."
- Donate to Local Trauma Centers: Organizations that provide long-term mental health support to survivors of mass violence are always underfunded.
- Engage in Community Safety: Whether it's advocating for better mental health resources in schools or supporting sensible gun legislation, find a way to get involved in the conversation that feels right for you.
- Visit the 7/20 Memorial: If you’re ever in Aurora, go to the "7/20 Memorial Garden." It’s a beautiful, peaceful place near the Aurora Municipal Center. It features 83 crane sculptures—one for each person killed or injured. It’s a place for reflection, not just sadness.
The Aurora shooting wasn't just a news event. It was a shattering of safety in a place that was supposed to be about escape and fun. By remembering the victims of the aurora shooting as individuals—with hobbies, quirks, and families—we keep their humanity intact. That’s the best way to fight back against the darkness of that night.
To honor them properly, we have to remember how they lived, not just how they died. We have to look at their photos and see the smiles, the graduations, and the service uniforms. They were us. We were them. And that’s why we can’t forget.
Next steps for those looking to help include researching the 7/20 Memorial Foundation, which continues to support the community and maintain the memorial site. You can also look into the National Center for Victims of Crime to see how legislative changes are being made to support survivor rights across the country.