LEWISTON, Maine — The family and friends of two of the victims of the Lewiston mass shootings have started a foundation in their name to carry on their legacy.
Lucy Violette and her husband, Bob, were both killed at Just-In-Time Recreation on Oct. 25, 2023. They were two of 18 people killed, 13 others injured, and countless other witnesses who are now living with the physical and mental scars from that night.
Cassandra Violette, the wife of Bob and Lucy's son, has set up the Bob and Lucy Violette Bowling Foundation to honor her in-laws. The goal is twofold: Increase visibility and awareness of youth bowling and raise money to help families pay for the costs.
"A lot of the mission for us is to keep their legacy alive for the benefit of the kids that are here. That's what they would want," Violette said.
Cassandra said she has been part of the Violette family since she was a teenager. Bob and Lucy were like parents to her.
"[Lucy] helped me learn how to be a mom," Violette said. "She taught me a lot about being more patient, more delicate."
Lucy worked for Lewiston Public Schools in the business office for 52 years. District staff honored her life by dedicating the office where she worked to her and adding a memorial bench.
"You left a legacy, and we are all honored to have known you. Her smiling just a few days ago is the image I see when I close my eyes. That’s the memory we should carry with us," school staff wrote on the district Facebook page two days after the shooting.
Lucy brought those same qualities to her volunteering at the bowling alley. She and Bob coached kids in the Lewiston-Auburn U.S. Bowling Congress Youth league. The league runs 26 weeks out of the year.
"They were always together in every way and everything that they did," Violette said.
Not just at the alley, Violette said. If Lucy had an appointment or an errand, Bob would drive her. He would drive her to work every day and pick her up.
Bob coached for 12 years. One young man he became very close with was named Owen. His mother, Amy Bushway, is the league secretary, despite not being a bowler herself.
"We brought our son here for a youth league. We were like, 'Oh, well, let's try bowling.' And he never left. And a big reason is because of Bob," Bushway said. "He was his teacher. He was his friend. He was like a grandfather. He was a lot of things. To me, too."
Bushway said Bob would text multiple times a week, asking for help to post on the league's Facebook page, though Bushway had a feeling Bob knew how and just wanted to have a reason to connect.
"I was supposed to come, and I changed my mind. At 3:15 [p.m.] on Oct. 25, I changed my mind. He was like, 'We'll take care of it.' That was the last text. It's crazy," Bushway said.
The alley now has memorials throughout. Bowling pins decorated with the names of each victim are placed high on a shelf. One of the bar tables has the pictures of each of the victims who died at Just-In-Time. Art hung high on the walls bears all the victims' names. And on the youth league's bulletin board are two patches: one for Aaron Young, which shows a bowling pin with Aaron's initials wrapped in a gold ribbon, and circular one with a set of pins with "Lewiston Strong" arced across the top, and "Coach Bob" across the bottom.
Bob had a distinctive voice, they said, even over the din of the pins and balls.
"I would know right away. I would hear his voice," Bushway said. "I think that's the weird part coming in here now. I don't hear that."
Bushway remembers how Bob was constantly encouraging strangers at the alley to sign up for their youth league, almost as if he was recruiting. She remembers how she would advise young bowlers to "move two boards to the left," or take videos on his iPad or iPhone to critique their form in hopes of helping them bowl their best game.
Bob was the one who spearheaded adding practice on Wednesday nights.
"He was here early, so Bob was very passionate about being here on time every Wednesday," Bushway said. "It's not going away now, for sure."
Lucy, Bushway said, was the "cheerleader," someone who could offer a listening ear or a word of encouragement.
"There was never a seat empty next to Lucy," Bushway said.
After Oct. 25, getting back to bowling was not easy, Bushway and Violette said. The kids insisted on playing together again.
"I 100 percent was like, 'I'm never coming back here,'" Bushway said. "My son was like, 'Mom, I want to go both my friends. I want to be back with my friends.'"
"The first night we were here, they all started bowling and I was like, 'OK,'" Bushway said with a sigh. "This is what they would want. I know that's what they would want."
Bowling, Bushway said, is unlike other team sports, especially for the parents. At other sports, parents might spread out in the stands, but bowling alleys have much tighter quarters, leading parents to get to know one another more intimately.
"There's family. It's community; it's connection," Bushway said.
"People like us lost family, but we're all connected in a way that you can't really even put it into words," Violette said.
Violette and her husband, John, moved their family to Oklahoma in 2021 but moved back to Maine nine months later.
"I would say it was unbearable how bad we missed Bob and Lucy. My husband was having a really hard time," she said.
When they moved back to Maine, the home they had lined up burned down, essentially forcing the family of six to move in with Bob and Lucy into their three-bedroom, one-bathroom ranch house.
"I'm just really thankful that we had that time because we stayed with them for about six months under the same roof. Our kids had nighttime routines with their grandparents, morning routines with their grandparents," Violette said. "They were always involved, but it was a whole different level of being involved, and those are some of the best memories that we have."
Then, they moved to Oklahoma in May 2023. After the shooting in October, they moved back to Maine again.
"They're present in my life, every day," Violette said, holding up a necklace. In the shape of two dog tags are impressions of Bob and Lucy's fingerprints. The backs read "all our love, all our lives," the saying they signed each card with. "They're always with me in that way."
To heal, Violette started the foundation.
"It's hard, but it's healing. It's very emotional. I've tried to be present with the community and the kids around, which is therapeutic for me and for my kids to be with other kids that understand the gravity of what we've gone through," Violette said. "My heart feels full because I know that they would be really, really happy with what we've been doing for the kids."
They are carrying Bob and Lucy's passion for kids in their hearts and in practice. They say Lewiston is stronger now after what happened that Wednesday night in late October.
"There was a time when we thought this could get taken away," Bushway said. "We thought we might not have this place again, and I think that made people feel something inside that we don't want to lose this. This is important to us. And the people who are no longer with us would want us to band together and keep it keep it going.
"I think that brought people together in a stronger way, I think [with] a more grateful heart. I live with way more appreciation for this community than I did before and in the grander sense of like Lewiston Strong. I was born and raised here. I live here now and raising my kids here and I'm proud of that. And I think that brought a sense of that pride and feeling together.
"It's sad that tragedy has to do that to you, that that brings you together. But I think that it just made us it did make us stronger and carrying on people that we love, their legacy is super important."
