Sitting across from a smiling Cortney Whanger in her Henrico County living room, where numerous family photos adorn the walls and a very fluffy, protective house cat watches, it would be hard to guess that Whanger is a survivor of America’s deadliest mass shooting.

While she was not among those shot, it took years for her to come to peace with the event in which a gunman killed 60 people and forever changed the lives of hundreds of others.

Five-and-a-half years ago, she dropped to the ground alongside hundreds of concert attendees in Las Vegas as a gunman fired into the crowd. She had been at the Route 91 Harvest country music festival with her now-husband, Josh, as well as her aunt and uncle. The men, who had been near the back of the crowd, were able to flee a bit sooner, while Whanger and her aunt would spend four hours hiding in a bathroom.

Josh and her uncle witnessed deaths. Whanger said she is grateful to have seen only wounds.

“I remember at one point when we were all piled on top of each other, hearing a woman say ‘but I’m on top, but I’m on top!’” Whanger said.

Almost every detail of the night is forever ingrained in her memory — she said it was a strange experience when she revisited Las Vegas to seek closure and saw the bathroom they had hid in for several hours after running around the area.

Six months after the shooting, Whanger nearly dropped to the ground again when she heard jackhammers in the new General Assembly Building under construction. She had been at the Virginia State Capitol to attend the 2018 March for Our Lives.

“Jackhammers still get me sometimes,” she said.

Still, she has continued to heal in a number of ways — connecting with fellow Route 91 survivors and with survivors of other shootings; taking a temporary break from concerts before realizing that chapter of her life is closed permanently; and visiting Las Vegas one final time for memorials and purchasing Route 91 merchandise, the proceeds of which go to victims with lingering medical bills.

Then advocacy emerged as another form of coping.

Whanger was involved with the safety committee at her daughter’s school and supported measures to close schools on election days, as many schools serve as polling precincts in Henrico.

She also testified to the General Assembly on behalf of legislation to ban bump stocks. The devices augment weapons to grant automatic firing capabilities. The mass shooter who forever changed her life had used the tool. The bills did not pass during the 2018 legislative session. More recently, a ban issued by President Donald Trump’s administration in December 2018 was struck down in federal appeals court.

Whanger’s 13-year-old daughter, Peyton Carroll — inspired by her mother’s advocacy — has aspirations of becoming a lawyer and running for Congress someday.

“I think my mom’s experience affected me wanting to run for office someday,” Peyton said. “I would probably be out auditioning for shows or maybe even be in the medical field — I never thought I’d be the type of person to want to run.”

Though Peyton was grinning when she spoke about her passion for laws aimed at reducing gun violence and her growing interest in democracy, tears erupted when she reflected on the first week after her mother survived the Oct. 1, 2017, shooting.

“I would see her crying and I would think ‘what can I do to help? There’s nothing I can do but, like, be next to her,’” Peyton said amid sniffles and intermittent pauses taken in an attempt to collect her emotions. Whanger handed her a tissue and placed her hand on Peyton’s back.

“And it’s not just the survivors being affected. It’s like their whole family and everyone around them,” Peyton said. “It’s the people who support me and know what she went through.”

Whanger added it has taken the family a long time to accept that it is okay to still feel sad about their trauma, even five years later. Their mental health is better now, but “not a day goes by where I don’t still think about it,” Whanger said.

Amid a recent spate of mass shootings and gun violence, both nationally and close to home in Virginia, Whanger said the news brings herself and other survivors “right back to the trauma.”

On a more lighthearted note, Whanger said she was so proud of her daughter for spending her day off from school visiting the state Capitol for Lobby Day. Each year on the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday, it is customary for those interested or involved in advocacy to meet with members of the General Assembly, attend rallies and sit in on committee and full-chamber meetings.

Peyton, who also shares a love of dance with her mother, spent a portion of the day at auditions before going to the Capitol. She had planned to meet with Sens. Ghazala Hashmi, D-Chesterfield, and Janet Howell, D-Fairfax, but they were tied up in committee meetings that Peyton watched.

Peyton said she has started to pay more attention to state and national government and that she has occasionally written about politics in essays for school assignments.

Gun bills are among the measures that may not see much traction in this legislative session, with Democrats controlling the Senate and Republicans controlling the House of Delegates. The matter could feature in campaigns this fall as all General Assembly seats are up for election.

Still, Whanger said it is “frustrating” that the issue falls along such partisan lines, especially with recent mass shootings and instances of students bringing guns to schools.

“We can fight about it all day long, but why not try something and see if it works,” she said. “You can take it back if needed, you know, but just try something. Doing nothing is not working.”

For example, she has her eye on Senate Bill 1139 sponsored by Sen. Jennifer Boysko, D-Fairfax, which concerns gun storage requirements — something Whanger’s husband already observes.

“We have guns in our house. So it’s not that we are anti-gun. I mean, my husband hunts. After Vegas, he got his concealed carry permit. Everything is locked up,” Whanger said.

The bill has passed the Senate but may not progress through the House, where a number of Democratic gun bills have been defeated. The Senate defeated a GOP-backed bill, Senate Bill 1353, by Sen. Tommy Norment, R-James City, that would have increased sentencing minimums for gun-related offenses.

Bills must get through both chambers before a governor chooses whether to sign them, veto them or seek amendments.

Whanger, who used to identify as a Republican, said she now votes for Democrats. Her husband remains Republican, so Whanger said they “probably cancel each other out sometimes.”

The couple agree on such matters as gun storage, background checks and a wait time for licenses. They hope more legislators can agree as well.

Though she said it can feel hopeless to be vulnerable and speak out only to see little or no traction on legislation, Whanger wants to come back to the Capitol and get more involved in lobby groups. Peyton, in the meantime, is considering applying to become a page in a future legislative session where she can assist with daily tasks and witness lawmaking up close. It would not be the first time she juggled her schoolwork with extracurriculars — and, as a page, she would be a student of a different kind.

“I try to understand all of the different sides,” Peyton said. “Otherwise, we’re just drifting apart.”

Las Vegas survivor, daughter find healing in political advocacy

Sitting across from a smiling Cortney Whanger in her Henrico County living room, where numerous family photos adorn the walls and a very fluffy, protective house cat watches, it would be hard to guess that Whanger is a survivor of America’s deadliest mass shooting.

While she was not among those shot, it took years for her to come to peace with the event in which a gunman killed 60 people and forever changed the lives of hundreds of others.

Five-and-a-half years ago, she dropped to the ground alongside hundreds of concert attendees in Las Vegas as a gunman fired into the crowd. She had been at the Route 91 Harvest country music festival with her now-husband, Josh, as well as her aunt and uncle. The men, who had been near the back of the crowd, were able to flee a bit sooner, while Whanger and her aunt would spend four hours hiding in a bathroom.

Josh and her uncle witnessed deaths. Whanger said she is grateful to have seen only wounds.

“I remember at one point when we were all piled on top of each other, hearing a woman say ‘but I’m on top, but I’m on top!’” Whanger said.

Almost every detail of the night is forever ingrained in her memory — she said it was a strange experience when she revisited Las Vegas to seek closure and saw the bathroom they had hid in for several hours after running around the area.

Six months after the shooting, Whanger nearly dropped to the ground again when she heard jackhammers in the new General Assembly Building under construction. She had been at the Virginia State Capitol to attend the 2018 March for Our Lives.

“Jackhammers still get me sometimes,” she said.

Still, she has continued to heal in a number of ways — connecting with fellow Route 91 survivors and with survivors of other shootings; taking a temporary break from concerts before realizing that chapter of her life is closed permanently; and visiting Las Vegas one final time for memorials and purchasing Route 91 merchandise, the proceeds of which go to victims with lingering medical bills.

Then advocacy emerged as another form of coping.

Whanger was involved with the safety committee at her daughter’s school and supported measures to close schools on election days, as many schools serve as polling precincts in Henrico.

She also testified to the General Assembly on behalf of legislation to ban bump stocks. The devices augment weapons to grant automatic firing capabilities. The mass shooter who forever changed her life had used the tool. The bills did not pass during the 2018 legislative session. More recently, a ban issued by President Donald Trump’s administration in December 2018 was struck down in federal appeals court.

Whanger’s 13-year-old daughter, Peyton Carroll — inspired by her mother’s advocacy — has aspirations of becoming a lawyer and running for Congress someday.

“I think my mom’s experience affected me wanting to run for office someday,” Peyton said. “I would probably be out auditioning for shows or maybe even be in the medical field — I never thought I’d be the type of person to want to run.”

Though Peyton was grinning when she spoke about her passion for laws aimed at reducing gun violence and her growing interest in democracy, tears erupted when she reflected on the first week after her mother survived the Oct. 1, 2017, shooting.

“I would see her crying and I would think ‘what can I do to help? There’s nothing I can do but, like, be next to her,’” Peyton said amid sniffles and intermittent pauses taken in an attempt to collect her emotions. Whanger handed her a tissue and placed her hand on Peyton’s back.

“And it’s not just the survivors being affected. It’s like their whole family and everyone around them,” Peyton said. “It’s the people who support me and know what she went through.”

Whanger added it has taken the family a long time to accept that it is okay to still feel sad about their trauma, even five years later. Their mental health is better now, but “not a day goes by where I don’t still think about it,” Whanger said.

Amid a recent spate of mass shootings and gun violence, both nationally and close to home in Virginia, Whanger said the news brings herself and other survivors “right back to the trauma.”

On a more lighthearted note, Whanger said she was so proud of her daughter for spending her day off from school visiting the state Capitol for Lobby Day. Each year on the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday, it is customary for those interested or involved in advocacy to meet with members of the General Assembly, attend rallies and sit in on committee and full-chamber meetings.

Peyton, who also shares a love of dance with her mother, spent a portion of the day at auditions before going to the Capitol. She had planned to meet with Sens. Ghazala Hashmi, D-Chesterfield, and Janet Howell, D-Fairfax, but they were tied up in committee meetings that Peyton watched.

Peyton said she has started to pay more attention to state and national government and that she has occasionally written about politics in essays for school assignments.

Gun bills are among the measures that may not see much traction in this legislative session, with Democrats controlling the Senate and Republicans controlling the House of Delegates. The matter could feature in campaigns this fall as all General Assembly seats are up for election.

Still, Whanger said it is “frustrating” that the issue falls along such partisan lines, especially with recent mass shootings and instances of students bringing guns to schools.

“We can fight about it all day long, but why not try something and see if it works,” she said. “You can take it back if needed, you know, but just try something. Doing nothing is not working.”

For example, she has her eye on Senate Bill 1139 sponsored by Sen. Jennifer Boysko, D-Fairfax, which concerns gun storage requirements — something Whanger’s husband already observes.

“We have guns in our house. So it’s not that we are anti-gun. I mean, my husband hunts. After Vegas, he got his concealed carry permit. Everything is locked up,” Whanger said.

The bill has passed the Senate but may not progress through the House, where a number of Democratic gun bills have been defeated. The Senate defeated a GOP-backed bill, Senate Bill 1353, by Sen. Tommy Norment, R-James City, that would have increased sentencing minimums for gun-related offenses.

Bills must get through both chambers before a governor chooses whether to sign them, veto them or seek amendments.

Whanger, who used to identify as a Republican, said she now votes for Democrats. Her husband remains Republican, so Whanger said they “probably cancel each other out sometimes.”

The couple agree on such matters as gun storage, background checks and a wait time for licenses. They hope more legislators can agree as well.

Though she said it can feel hopeless to be vulnerable and speak out only to see little or no traction on legislation, Whanger wants to come back to the Capitol and get more involved in lobby groups. Peyton, in the meantime, is considering applying to become a page in a future legislative session where she can assist with daily tasks and witness lawmaking up close. It would not be the first time she juggled her schoolwork with extracurriculars — and, as a page, she would be a student of a different kind.

“I try to understand all of the different sides,” Peyton said. “Otherwise, we’re just drifting apart.”

Las Vegas survivor, daughter find healing in political advocacy