Never again could anyone say, “It will never happen here.”
Because it did.
October 25, 2023 was just an ordinary night in Lewiston, a small, working class city of 37,000 in central Maine. Friends and families had gathered to do what they loved to do with the people they wanted to be with at a bowling alley called Just-in-Time Recreation Center and Schemengees, a popular sports bar and restaurant. They felt immune from the violent crime that seemed to wrack the rest of the country in a state that the FBI had just named the safest in America.
Then Robert Card II, a deeply paranoid Army Reserve soldier, walked into both places with a high-powered rifle and opened fire, killing 18 people and wounding 13 more. He then fled to a third location, where, according to the evidence and the testimony of his best friend, he likely planned to lay in wait and kill his ex-co-workers when they came to work the next morning.
The tragedy is that the numerous red flags he had raised in the months before weren’t enough to stop him before he carried out his terrible plan. A combination of watered-down gun control laws and law enforcement and military negligence made sure of that.
In THE LEWISTON SHOOTINGS – An All-American Tragedy, author and award-winning journalist Robert Conlin traces the shootings that deeply scarred a community that thought it was the last place on earth where a mass shooting would take place. 
FROM THE BOOK
Halloween was less than a week away, and the decorative ghouls and witches, grinning pumpkins and scythe-wielding zombies that stalked the shadows of Lewiston’s imagination wilted as the sun rose higher behind the eight majestic spires of the iconic Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul Catholic Church on Bartlett Street. If those 170-foot-high spires were to ever disappear, Lewiston would be as unrecognizable as Paris without the Eiffel Tower.
Two miles north at Just-In-Time Recreation Center on Mollison Way, the close-knit staff would be making sure the pinsetter machines on each of its 34 bowling lanes were working properly, food was prepped and beer kegs primed for the influx of league participants later in the day, and rental shoes and bowling balls were cleaned and ready to go.
Four miles south of them, the equally tight-knit staff at Schemengees Bar & Grille on Lincoln St. would be setting up for the lunchtime crowd, and readying the pool tables and cornhole lanes for a busy night of league play. It’s not an easy name to pronounce, but that didn’t matter to its many dedicated regulars who gathered there after work for a fun time out with friends.
No one could know during that ordinary October day that the pulse of daily life in Lewiston and the area would be on life support just an hour after sunset that very evening. No one, that is, except the man who would be responsible for making sure of that.
REVIEWS
“A gripping and harrowing account of an unimaginable tragedy and a poignant commentary on the broader issues of gun control, mental health and community safety…Conlin’s investigative prowess shines through and provides a comprehensive, thought-provoking, informative and deeply moving analysis.”—Al Warren, Host of House of Mystery Radio on NBC
“Robert Conlin has done an excellent job with an incredibly delicate topic in today’s society! The only difference between most mass shootings and this incident in Lewiston, Maine, is that the situation was not as black and white as people would like it to be. Conlin did an excellent detailed job of capturing not just the situations but the nuisance behind both shooter and victims, letting you know why this issue doesn’t hold simple solutions. Robert also goes the extra mile by following the law and legislation and holding those in power who need to be, accountable. Lastly, Conlin doesn’t forget the most important thing about this tragedy, the stories and legacy of the victims. This book is rich with information and emotion, a gripping read, indeed! Four and a half stars.”—Tim Dennis, Host Darkness Radio/True Crime Tuesday
“As the co-host of ‘Stop the Killing’ podcast, I deeply appreciate how Robert Conlin’s THE LEWISTON SHOOTINGS: An All-American Tragedy weaves together the complex threads of a mass shooting into a single, compelling narrative. Conlin expertly dissects the multiple systemic failures—from ineffective gun legislation to the numerous warning signs that were alarmingly ignored—which allowed the perpetrator to commit such a heinous act. His work shines a light on the urgent need for reform, highlighting how the very safeguards designed to prevent such tragedies were bypassed, making this book an essential read for anyone committed to understanding and preventing future atrocities“—Sarah Ferris, co-host ‘Stop The Killing’ podcast (www.sarahferrismedia.com)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
In any event, I’ve worked in more than a few occupations in my lifetime. In fact, I made up a list of all the ones that exceeded three months. Here goes: busboy; waiter; bartender; Navy cook; security guard; bicycle mechanic; overseas tour guide; bank clerk; warehouse worker; brick mason; chimney sweep; auto salesman; oyster farmer; retail store owner; news reporter and editor; magazine publisher.
So why not be a book author? It might not be real work, but it still counts as a job!
Honestly, it’s been the most satisfying job of all. It’s very gratifying to put your heart and soul into a project for a big chunk of time and eventually end up with something real you can hold in your hands, and glance over at on the shelf.
The only material thing that will last when I’m gone are the books I wrote. They might be like the bad penny that gets passed from one temporary owner to another, but they’ll outlast anything else I labored at. Well, the chimneys I helped build all over midcoast Maine might be around as long, provided we got the mortar mix right that day.
So I’ll keep writing books: non-fiction reportage; fiction thrillers; ghost-written memoirs. It will never get old, even as I inevitably do.
When I’m not writing, I enjoy spending time with my six kids. We camp all over Maine, spend a lot of time on and in the water – fresh and salt – and are always on the lookout for an adventure. I’ll keep playing ice hockey until I can’t lace up my skates. I’ll keep trying to fix up this 200-year-old Maine house. I’ll keep looking for love in all the wrong places.
And I’ll keep grumbling about AI. Which, by the way, knows well enough to stay far away from me at my computer. The thought of giving up the job I love to something not even real enough to call a robot makes me want to hurl a brick through the screen.