Robert Conlin - The Lewiston Shooting

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.

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