Scarring and healing: Paying tribute to victims of Borderline immortalized in ink
Scarring and healing: Paying tribute to victims of Borderline immortalized in ink
by Eric Licas
Mourners who visited Kathy and Ken Dunham’s Newbury Park home in the aftermath of their son’s death last year often wondered why there were no family photographs adorning the walls.
Just hours after learning that their 21-year-old son, Jake, had been among the 12 people killed in the Nov. 7, 2018, attack at the Borderline Bar & Grill in Thousand Oaks, his family was forced to evacuate, fleeing the destructive Woolsey fire that raced through the Conejo Valley.
So the Dunhams piled their precious possessions, including family photos and keepsakes, into their car as they fled — but found themselves too emotionally drained to unpack when they returned.
Their home was spared from the fire, but its walls were left bare for weeks after the shooting.
RELATED: Here are the stories of all 12 Thousand Oaks mass shooting victims
“It was hard because we didn’t have anything to look at,” Ken Dunham, 55, said. “We had a news photo of the tragic event, and that’s it.”
Afterward, as he and his wife went over keepsakes Jake had left behind, the couple decided they never would find themselves without a memento of him again.
They hired a tattoo artist in May, and had two of the last messages their son would ever write to them inscribed onto their skin.
The letters inked permanently onto Kathy Dunham’s inner forearm are written in Jake’s handwriting, transcribed from a Mother’s Day note he had sent not long before he died.
A similar tattoo, worn in a matching location, by Ken Dunham quotes the last birthday card his son had ever given him. When he glances at it, he is transported back to a cherished day spent celebrating with Jake, who had a preference for heavy India pale ales. It’s a memory even more precious now in his absence.
“He had just turned 21, so we were able to go out together. I got off of work early, so he picked me up,” Ken Dunham said. “We went and had some beers at some of the brewhouses and just had a good afternoon. That’s what this card represents, is that day.”
It has been a difficult year for their family, Kathy Dunham, 51, said. Emotions have run high in their household as she, Ken, and their daughter, Alexis, 24, have struggled to cope with Jake’s death. But the mother has found some solace whenever she looks down and reads the words “I love you!,” written in her son’s distinct style, just above her wrist.
The couple’s prominently worn ink has also opened up opportunities to share their experiences with others. They view conversations sparked by their tattoos as chances to keep their memories of Jake, a risk-taker who lived his life at full throttle by the slogan ‘hold’er wide,’ alive in the community.
“People don’t really know what it’s about until they see it and start asking,” Kathy Dunham said. “Otherwise, people are afraid to approach you and bring up the subject. To me, I’d rather they bring up the subject to know that you remembered my son, that my son is in your thoughts, is not forgotten.”
The note on Kathy Dunham’s arm is her only tattoo. It did hurt a bit, but only took about 45 minutes to complete. Besides, the oncology nurse said she has a high tolerance for pain.
“A Good Hurt”
Modern tattoo machines use an electric motor to rapidly jab ink-coated needles in and out of a person’s skin. Larger pieces can take dozens of hours to complete, often broken up over several days into long sessions.
The sustained, stinging, burning sensation that comes with getting a tattoo has a calming, stress-relieving effect on Kaelyn Carter, 21, of Port Hueneme. The former Thousand Oaks resident calls the feeling “a good hurt,” and had her first piece done on her shoulder at the age of 18 to commemorate the death of her grandfather. Carter’s tattoo artist completed her ninth and most recent piece, a tribute on her forearm to her friend Cody Coffman, about a month after he was killed at Borderline.
For her, remembering the lives lost at Borderline means honoring her friend’s sacrifice. As smoke filled the building and gunfire rang out across the dance floor, Coffman shielded his friends while they hid under a table, witnesses said during his funeral. Many managed to escape, but the 22-year-old was struck in the head by a bullet and died that night.
Carter remembers him as a goofball and a hero. She recently moved from Thousand Oaks to Port Hueneme, with plans to carry Coffman’s memory far and wide as she starts a new family and travels with her husband, Brandon, a member of the U.S. Navy.
Last November’s tragedy rippled across the Conejo Valley, impacting people like Sean Lindsay, 37, of Simi Valley, who had never met any of the victims. The electrician grew up in Thousand Oaks, used to frequent Borderline and had been trained as a chaplain. After he learned about the shooting, he traveled to a growing impromptu memorial site at the bar’s parking lot to offer counseling.
“Some people were angry. Some people were really sad. Some people were really confused,” Lindsay said. “I don’t have all the right words to say, but the people that wanted to talk, I was just trying to let them talk.”
He would often start a conversation by offering a tissue to a weeping stranger. He heard numerous accounts of loved ones lost, and spent as much as 10 hours a day listening to people grieve in the period immediately after the shooting.
Many of the stories Lindsay heard shook him. At times, he wanted to cry with those he spoke with, but held back.
“I didn’t feel that that would help,” he said “So, I just checked my emotions, and just tried to listen as much as possible. “
But on at least one occasion the weight of what he had been told became too much for him.
“I was in the shower after work. All of a sudden, all of the sights, all of the sounds, all of the stories, they all came up at once,” he said. “And the next thing I know, I’m sitting in the corner of my shower crying.”
It was then that Lindsay decided he needed to channel all of the feelings building up inside of him. He turned to the same artist Carter had commissioned, and had a tribute piece tattooed onto his shoulder. The process helped him move forward from the tragedy, while allowing the spirit of the 12 people killed last year to live on in his memory.
Both Carter and Lindsay intend to get even more ink in memory of what took place at Borderline. The Dunhams also plan on expanding their tribute pieces to their son. Kathy has been considering a piece honoring her relationship with her daughter for years, and also wants a tattoo of Jake’s truck, a prized possession of the off-roading aficionado, inscribed onto her shoulder. Ken Dunham said he is currently working on a design, and will take his time searching for an artist able to capture his son’s likeness for a portrait on his upper left arm.
“When I’m flying across the desert on my dirt bike, I’ll know he’s right there with me,” he said.
All credit goes to Eric Licas
Originally published on https://www.dailynews.com
