Fri. Apr 10th, 2026

‘I’m Not Ashamed to Say Aurora is my Hometown’

Ardisia Knowles stood outside the Century 16 movie theater the night of the Aurora, Colo. massacre, a night that changed her life. Photo by Leah Beilhart/The Minaret

When life is threatened, your entire outlook of it changes. You never really know when or where your time on this earth will end. The delicate nature of life should make you appreciate it more, as well as the little things and people you love most.

It was a cool Thursday night on July 20 with the moon high in the sky. My friend Susan and I were dropped off at the Century 16 theater in Aurora by her older brother. Tonight was the premiere of the new Batman movie, The Dark Knight Rises, but we decided to save that for next weekend. Instead, we bought tickets for Magic Mike. The aroma of buttered popcorn filled the buzzing lobby as friends and families prepared for the night which would invoke stories, debates and conversations that would last for the coming weeks.

***

Our movie ended and as we were leaving, both of us saw more friends just arriving for the premiere of Batman: The Dark Knight Rises. I saw Richard, my boyfriend, still working and getting ready to get off of his shift in twenty minutes. I said good bye to him as Susan and I waited right outside of the theater for our ride.

***

At 12:20 a.m. Susan and I were standing outside the theater entrance doors. In the midst of casual conversation, a crowd of people started storming out of the movie theater. We stood there confused, and as more ran out looking terrified, we started to believe something was wrong and began running with them. Once we got far enough away we stopped and asked a man what was happening.

The man warned us, “Someone let off tear gas in there. I used to be in the military, so trust me, do NOT get in your cars.”

At the same time Susan and I were running from the theater, the Batman movie had started in theater number nine. Suddenly a man in a black trench coat walked to the front of the theater and left through the exit door. A few audience members noticed this strange act, but dismissed it and continued watching the movie. A smoke bomb was detonated minutes later, and shots were fired seconds after. The man in the trench coat who left the room came back wearing a gas mask and holding a gun. He fired randomly into the crowd and ascended the stairs, firing into each individual row.

The audience inside theater number eight was initially unaware of the happenings next door. Bullets started flying through the walls. People then realized they needed to escape danger and struggled to find a safe exit.

At the theater entrance doors, two brave employees stayed behind to coordinate safe exits from the building for the customers. The gas had spread to the lobby and caused everyone to cough profusely. One of the helpful employees was my boyfriend Richard.

Police officers began showing up just before 12:30 a.m. There was confusion as to what  exactly was happening inside the theater. Susan and I were a safe distance away resting by a stop sign. A man stepped out of his car and asked if we needed a ride. “What’s going on?” he asked, with worry on his face. “My children are in there.” The fear in the man’s eyes made me realize this was not a joke. Studying the mayhem at the theater, my eyes began to water and my heart raced. I worried about my friends and Richard, but Susan assured me they were fine. She took my hand and we started running again. Soon after her brother picked us up nearly a quarter of a mile away from the theater and took us home.

***

The shooter ultimately did not resist arrest. My boyfriend’s manager congratulated him for his unbelievable bravery. All my friends that were present that night were thankfully not among the victims or injured individuals. But my heart aches for those who lost loved ones that night.

One man was able to strike fear into a crowd of people on July 20 and essentially an entire nation. People are now afraid to go to a movie theater. The affected victims are afraid to go anywhere. I was afraid to smile for the longest time. Smiling would mean everything was alright, but it wasn’t. I still have a ways to go to repair myself emotionally.

This experience taught me how truly precious life is. It can be taken away in an instant. Caught in the middle of that night has taught me to live as if I’d die tomorrow. I’m not ashamed to say Aurora, Colo.  is my hometown. I am more proud of my town than ever before because we came together as a community and celebrated life. We mourned for the 12 lost lives and prayed for those still in the hospitals. Above all, we appreciated life, as you should do with your own lives every day.

Ardisia Knowles can be reached at ardisia.knowles@spartans.ut.edu

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