Eighteen-year-old Canada school shooter killed family before attack
Jesse Van Rootselaar tragically shot her mom, 39, and 11-year-old stepbrother at home before attacking her old school.
Heartbreaking tragedy unfolds in remote Canadian town. A quiet community in British Columbia is reeling from one of the deadliest mass shootings in the country’s history, claiming nine lives including the shooter.
The Shooter’s Story
Jesse Van Rootselaar, an 18-year-old trans woman born biologically male, carried deep struggles that ended in unimaginable violence. She first turned the gun on her own family—her 39-year-old mother and 11-year-old stepbrother—in their home in Tumbler Ridge, a tight-knit spot of just 2,400 souls. Then, she marched to the high school she’d attended and dropped out of four years prior, unleashing horror on innocent lives. Police Commander Dwayne McDonald shared these gut-wrenching details, painting a picture of a young person who’d slipped through cracks despite red flags.
Rootselaar battled mental health issues for years. Cops had visited the family home multiple times, even apprehending her under the Mental Health Act for evaluations. She once held a firearms license that lapsed, and though weapons were briefly seized from her place, they got returned. “We’ve been there on multiple occasions dealing with mental health concerns about our suspect,” McDonald said, his voice heavy with the what-ifs. No clear motive has emerged, and she wasn’t connected to her school victims—just a ghost from her past returning with deadly intent.
The Rampage Unraveled
It started Tuesday in this peaceful Pacific province enclave. After the family killings—discovered when a relative alerted neighbors—Rootselaar grabbed a long-barreled gun and a modified handgun. She stormed the school, where officers arrived in just two minutes. Shots rang out at them too, but they pushed through. Inside, the nightmare: six dead—a 39-year-old teacher and five kids (three 12-year-old girls, boys aged 12 and 13). One lay in a stairwell, the others likely in the library, frozen moments of terror. Twenty-four others wounded, their lives shattered forever. The shooter ended it with a self-inflicted wound, found amid the chaos.
Imagine the panic: kids diving for cover, teachers shielding students, the air thick with fear in a place where everyone knows your name. McDonald stressed no one was specifically targeted, but that offers little solace. “No information anyone was picked out,” he noted, underscoring the random cruelty.
A Community Shattered
Tumbler Ridge, nestled far from urban bustle, feels worlds away from such evil. Families who waved at each other daily now mourn together. The school, a hub of small-town life, became a killing ground—echoing wounds that may never heal. Police recovered the weapons, piecing together how legally held guns fueled this atrocity. Canada, no stranger to gun debates, faces tough questions: How did seized firearms slip back? Why didn’t mental health interventions stick?
Prime Minister Mark Carney called it devastating, his words mirroring a nation’s grief. This ranks among Canada’s worst mass slaughters, rivaling past horrors but carving its own scar. Officers’ quick response likely saved more lives, yet the toll—nine gone, including a family wiped out—stings like a fresh wound.
Echoes of Pain
Think of the stepbrother, just 11, full of dreams cut short. The mother, 39, robbed of seeing her kids grow. Those students—barely teens—robbed of first loves, graduations, futures. The teacher, a beacon for those kids, gone in an instant. And Rootselaar herself, a troubled soul whose cries for help twisted into something monstrous. Mental illness doesn’t excuse this, but it humanizes the heartbreak—systems strained, warning signs missed in a rural corner where resources stretch thin.
Neighbors huddle now, sharing hugs, stories, tears. Vigils flicker with candles, prayers whispered for healing. “Why here? Why them?” echoes in hushed tones. As investigations grind on, Tumbler Ridge leans on resilience—the quiet strength of folks who’ve faced wildfires, recessions, now this. Canada mourns, demands answers, clings to hope amid ruins. In the end, it’s faces lost, not just numbers, that linger—a raw reminder of life’s fragility in the unlikeliest places. Fingers crossed for light in this darkness, for a town to rebuild, hearts to mend.