Marcus Weaver was sitting next to a friend in the Century Aurora 16 theater wondering who threw a smoke bomb in the middle of the movie they were watching.
Then came the shots. It was July 20, 2012.
Amid the chaos of trying to exit the theater and realizing his friend was slumped lifeless in her seat, Weaver failed to notice he had been shot in the arm.
The massacre left Weaver with scars and lingering pain, but the aftermath of that day forced him to face his troubled past and surround himself with supporters to guide him through the darkness.
Familiar with overcoming hardships, he now uses his experiences to mentor those in need.
Weaver, 43, said he grew up with an abusive stepfather and had run-ins with the law after graduating from college.
For 11 months, he bounced from jails and detention facilities across Colorado. During that time, he gravitated toward Bible studies and faith.
“Faith put this idea in my head that I could change, I could do something to help people,” he said.
Released about eight years ago, Weaver found that his criminal background hindered him in the job market.
In 2007, he sought shelter in New Genesis, Denver transitional housing for men.
“They offered me a job, and I didn’t screw it up,” he said.
He began hunting for career, clothing and housing resources for men in the shelter and formed a relationship with his current employer, DenverWorks.
DenverWorks serves mainly low-income job seekers with barriers to employment, including criminal background, substance abuse and disabilities.
For the next few years, Weaver worked with low-income neighborhoods and hiring managers who accepted individuals with background issues.
“It felt really great, like this was my purpose,” he said. “If you can give a person a job, that changes everything for them. I felt really good for the first time in my life.
“Then it happened: July 20, 2012.”
Weaver and his friend, Rebecca Wingo, 32, were enjoying a midnight premiere of the Batman movie “The Dark Knight Rises” when Weaver saw smoke coming across the bottom row of the theater, followed by shots.
Weaver ducked and ensured that Wingo got down as he watched the eerie silhouette of the firing gunman.
“I could hear bullets whizzing by my head. I didn’t think I was going to get out of there,” Weaver said.
When the shots came to a halt for a few moments, Weaver tried to get himself and Wingo to safety, but Wingo was lifeless.
Weaver was unaware “she had already expired.”
He barely remembers getting out of the theater and realized he had been shot only after a little girl outside told him his arm was bleeding.
Weaver arrived at Parker Adventist Hospital with two bullet holes in his arm and was treated within six hours.
His grief would not be so easy to treat. The tragedy set him back, mentally and physically.
“It wasn’t just about my trauma. It was about losing Rebecca,” he said.
He turned to his community, his faith and Megan Sharp, now his wife, whom he started dating soon after the shooting.
Weaver and Sharp were married in March, and the couple shares four sons in “a blended family,” he said.
For the next year, Weaver spoke about his experiences. He visited jails, schools and wherever else he thought his story could make a difference.
While he loved the work he was doing, he said he neglected taking care of himself.
“I wasn’t going to therapy. I wasn’t taking care of my arm. And I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was depressed, and I didn’t know why,” Weaver said.
After three months of bleakness, Weaver started attending therapy in December and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and depression.
“People don’t realize how difficult it is. … They don’t see you at 3 a.m. when you’re just suffering,” he said.
Images of the shooting would replay in his head at night, and he had trouble sleeping.
Additional doctor visits revealed that Weaver’s arm was not healed. A November surgery is scheduled with the hope of easing his pain.
To advance his healing, he knew he had to get back to helping those in need.
He started applying for jobs in March and got hired at the organization that gave him his fresh start: DenverWorks.
“It was an honor to be hired at DenverWorks. … I see a lot of my former self in the people I’m helping. You see them change. Get a suit, get an interview, get the job. It’s so important,” Weaver said.
Jenifer Reynolds, executive director at DenverWorks, said it’s Weaver’s passion for the job that makes him an exemplary worker.
“I think it’s because of what he was able to get service-wise when he came here. That’s not something you can train somebody for,” Reynolds said. “He genuinely cares about the person that walks through the door.”
Also, Weaver is finishing up his last two semesters at the Denver Institute of Urban Studies on the University of Northern Colorado at Lowry campus. He will graduate with a degree in nonprofit management.
“The community has always been there for me,” he said. “Now it is my time to take a bigger role by starting my own program very soon.”
As he ponders starting his own nonprofit and moving on, darker thoughts linger in his mind.
Weaver is not looking forward to the upcoming Aurora theater shooting trial, which is scheduled to begin in December.
“It will be hard to have to sit there,” he said, “and relive it again and again.”
Elizabeth Hernandez: 303-954-1223, ehernandez @denverpost.com or twitter.com/ literally_lizzy
Denverworks fundraiser
A DenverWorks fundraiser will be held at The Wildlife Experience in Parker. “Carnival for a Cause” will be from 1 to 4 p.m. Sunday at 10035 S. Peoria St. The family event will feature costume contests, crafts, games, music, food and more. General admission and some activities require the purchase of tickets.
