In the remote mountain town of Tumbler Ridge, British Columbia, an 18-year-old turned a Tuesday afternoon into one of Canada's darkest days, killing eight people — including five children, a teacher, her own mother, and her young stepbrother — before taking her own life. The tragedy, the nation's deadliest mass shooting since 2020, has exposed not only the grief of a small community but the quiet, chronic failure to provide mental health support to the thousands of Canadians who live far from the systems meant to protect them. As a prime minister prepares to visit and flags fly at half-staff,
Canada's deadliest shooting in years leaves remote community grieving 8 dead
Eight people killed including five children ages 11-13, one 39-year-old educator, and the shooter's mother and stepbrother; 25 others wounded; families devastated and community traumatized.
The police didn't tell us anything. We had to find out through kids.
Mark
Why does it matter that Rootselaar's family moved around so much?
Mimi
The court records suggest instability—her mother was moving the kids between provinces without proper notice to their father. It's part of understanding who this person was before Tuesday.
Luke
But we don't know if that instability caused what happened. The motive is still unclear. We're connecting dots that might not connect.
Mark
What strikes you most about how the families found out?
Mimi
Lance Younge spent six hours at the recreation center and police told him nothing. He learned his daughter was dead from another teenager. That's a failure of communication at the worst possible moment.
Luke
That's fair, but we should be careful—we don't know what the police protocol was or whether they were still gathering information. It's a legitimate criticism of how it unfolded, but not necessarily a condemnation of their judgment.
Mark
The mental health angle—is that the real story here?
Mimi
It's what the community is saying matters most. Rootselaar had police wellness checks. The town has five mental health nurses for 2,700 people. Those are facts that point to a gap.
Luke
They do point to a gap. But we don't know if better mental health services would have prevented this. That's an assumption we're making, not something the reporting confirms.
Mark
What does Tumbler Ridge need now?
Mimi
Immediate grief support, yes. But also the infrastructure they've been without—actual mental health capacity, not just five nurses who are there by exception.
Luke
That's what Ernst is saying, and it's worth listening to. But we should note: we don't have statements from provincial health officials about why that capacity doesn't exist, or what barriers they face in staffing remote areas.
Der Puls
- An 18-year-old killed her mother and young stepbrother at home before driving to the local secondary school and opening fire, leaving eight dead and twenty-five wounded in a matter of minutes.
- Five children between the ages of 11 and 13, along with a beloved assistant teacher, were among the dead — their families left to learn the news not from authorities, but from rumors passed between teenagers.
- The shooter had a documented history of mental health crises, yet Tumbler Ridge — a town of 2,700 — has only five mental health nurses and sometimes goes months or years with no mental health services at all.
- A grieving mayor told mourners in the cold that their responsibility to the victims' families would last 'forever,' even as the community confronts the reality that it lacks the resources to support its own survivors.
- The Prime Minister addressed Parliament with visible emotion and pledged to visit the town, while the national conversation strains between familiar calls for gun control and the harder, slower question of mental health infrastructure in remote Canada.
In the remote mountain town of Tumbler Ridge, British Columbia, an 18-year-old turned a Tuesday afternoon into one of Canada's darkest days, killing eight people — including five children, a teacher, her own mother, and her young stepbrother — before taking her own life. The tragedy, the nation's deadliest mass shooting since 2020, has exposed not only the grief of a small community but the quiet, chronic failure to provide mental health support to the thousands of Canadians who live far from the systems meant to protect them. As a prime minister prepares to visit and flags fly at half-staff, Tumbler Ridge is left to ask a question that policy alone cannot answer: how does a community of 2,700 people, largely abandoned by the infrastructure of care, begin to heal?
On a Tuesday afternoon in Tumbler Ridge — a town of 2,700 people tucked into the Canadian Rockies, more than 600 miles from Vancouver — an 18-year-old named Jesse Van Rootselaar killed her mother and 11-year-old stepbrother at home, then drove to the nearby secondary school and opened fire. Eight people died: five children, an assistant teacher named Shannda Aviugana-Durand, her mother Jennifer Jacobs, and Rootselaar herself. Twenty-five others were wounded. It was Canada's deadliest mass shooting since a gunman killed 22 people in Nova Scotia in 2020.
Among the dead were Kylie Smith, 12, described by her family as "the light in our family" and a girl who dreamed of art school in Toronto; Abel Mwansa, Zoey Benoit, and Ticaria Lampert, all 12; and 13-year-old Ezekiel Schofield. Kylie's father, Lance Younge, spent desperate hours at a local recreation center waiting for word. Police told him nothing. He learned his daughter was gone when a high school student walked up and told him.
Rootselaar had a history of police mental health visits, and court records painted a picture of an unsettled childhood — years of moving between provinces, a mother found by a court to have acted reprehensibly toward her children's father. The motive remains unknown. What is known is that the town she lived in had almost no capacity to intervene: only five mental health nurses serve Tumbler Ridge, and there are stretches of months or years when no mental health services exist at all.
On Wednesday night, mourners gathered in the cold. Mayor Darryl Krakowka told the crowd it was right to grieve openly, called Tumbler Ridge "one big family," and said the community's duty to the victims' families would last — simply — "forever." Prime Minister Mark Carney addressed Parliament with visible emotion, announced flags would fly at half-staff for seven days, and said he would travel to the town on Friday. Canada's response to mass shootings has long centered on gun legislation, and the country's firearms laws are among the strictest in the world. But in Tumbler Ridge, the question being asked is a different one: how a small, remote community — already grieving, already under-resourced — is supposed to find its way through.
On Tuesday afternoon in Tumbler Ridge, a remote town of 2,700 people nestled in the Canadian Rockies more than 600 miles northeast of Vancouver, an 18-year-old named Jesse Van Rootselaar killed her mother and 11-year-old stepbrother at home, then drove to the nearby secondary school and opened fire. By the time the shooting ended, eight people were dead—five children, one educator, her mother Jennifer Jacobs, and Rootselaar herself. Twenty-five others were wounded. It was Canada's deadliest mass shooting since 2020, when a gunman in Nova Scotia killed 22 people.
The dead included Kylie Smith, 12, described by her family as "the light in our family" who dreamed of attending art school in Toronto. Also killed were Abel Mwansa, Zoey Benoit, and Ticaria Lampert, all 12 years old; 13-year-old Ezekiel Schofield; and Shannda Aviugana-Durand, 39, an assistant teacher. Kylie's father, Lance Younge, spent desperate hours searching for his daughter at a local recreation center where students were being reunited with families. Police offered him no information. He learned his daughter was dead only when a high school student approached him and told him what had happened. "The police didn't tell us anything," Younge said. "We had to find out through the community and through kids and rumors."
Rootselaar had a documented history of police visits to her home for mental health checks. Court records from 2015 revealed that she and her family had led what was described as a "nomadic lifestyle," moving between Newfoundland, Alberta, and British Columbia over a five-year span. Her mother, Jennifer Jacobs, had been found by a British Columbia court to have engaged in "reprehensible conduct" by failing to notify the children's father before relocating. The motive for Tuesday's attack remains unclear.
The community's grief was compounded by a stark realization: Tumbler Ridge lacks the mental health infrastructure to support its residents. Trent Ernst, publisher of the town's biweekly newspaper, noted that the town has only five mental health nurses, and there are stretches of months or even years when no mental health services are available at all. "The majority of people that I've talked to are sad more at the fact that Tumbler Ridge doesn't have the level of support for mental health and health services in general," Ernst said. He knew two of the wounded—Maya Gebala, 12, shot in the head and neck, and Paige Hoekstra, 19—both hospitalized in Vancouver. He described Maya as "funky and vivacious" and "full of life" after speaking with her at a recent town carnival.
Wednesday night, as temperatures dropped, mourners gathered in the cold to honor the dead. Mayor Darryl Krakowka told the crowd it was acceptable to grieve openly. He called Tumbler Ridge "one big family" and urged residents to support one another, emphasizing that the community's responsibility to the victims' families would extend far beyond the immediate aftermath. "Forever," he said. Police recovered a long gun and a modified handgun at the school. Deputy Commissioner Dwayne McDonald of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police said there was no evidence that anyone at the school had been specifically targeted. Officers arrived two minutes after the initial call and came under fire when they entered.
Prime Minister Mark Carney addressed Parliament on Wednesday, his voice thick with emotion. "Parents, grandparents, sisters, brothers in Tumbler Ridge will wake up without someone they love," he said. "The nation mourns with you, and Canada stands by you." He announced that government flags would fly at half-staff for seven days and said he would visit the town on Friday. Canada's response to mass shootings has historically centered on gun control—the country has strict firearms laws, and the government recently broadened its ban on weapons classified as assault weapons. But in Tumbler Ridge, the conversation has shifted toward a question the town cannot answer alone: how a remote community of 2,700 people, with no consistent mental health services, is supposed to heal.
Bemerkenswerte Zitate
She loved her family, friends, and going to school. She was a talented artist and had dreams of going to art school in the big city of Toronto.— Family of Kylie Smith, 12, one of the victims
The majority of people that I've talked to are sad more at the fact that Tumbler Ridge doesn't have the level of support for mental health and health services in general.— Trent Ernst, publisher of Tumbler RidgeLines
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