It was a Monday morning like any other in Midtown Manhattan, the sidewalks humming with the usual corporate hustle, until a man in body armor strolled into 345 Park Avenue carrying an AR-15-style rifle and a head full of rage. The shooter, identified as 27-year-old Shane Devon Tamura from Las Vegas, opened fire in the lobby of the skyscraper that houses the NFL, Blackstone, and other heavyweights. Four people were killed in a flash of calculated violence: NYPD officer Didarul Islam, Blackstone executive Wesley LePatner, building security guard Aland Etienne, and Julia Hyman, a promising analyst barely out of Cornell. One more person was seriously wounded but survived.
Tamura then rode the elevator up to the 33rd floor, bypassed his apparent target—the NFL office—and put a bullet in his own head.
The Shooter: Misplaced Grievance
Tamura wasn’t a random nutcase. He had a motive, a plan, and just enough blind hate to carry it out. Once a high school football standout and casino surveillance worker, Tamura left behind a detailed suicide note that made his reasoning painfully clear. He believed he had CTE—chronic traumatic encephalopathy—a degenerative brain disease associated with repeated head trauma.
He blamed the NFL for what he believed was the slow collapse of his mind and demanded that his brain be studied after death. He cited other players-turned-suicides like Terry Long and railed against institutional betrayal. The irony? He never made it to the NFL. But in his ill mind, football gave him the disease, and the NFL ignored him. His note had the flavor of a twisted martyrdom fantasy—some kind of final reckoning aimed at a faceless empire of expensive suits and denials. Except Tamura took the wrong elevator and killed people who had nothing to do with any of it.
A sad irony ineed.
The Weapon and the Road to Mayhem
Tamura’s arsenal was assembled legally—at least in Nevada. He was armed with a M4-style semiautomatic Palmetto State Armory PA-15 rifle equipped with a scope and a barrel flashlight. He also had a loaded Colt Python .357 caliber revolver in his car, along with extra ammunition.
He had a valid concealed carry permit, and by all accounts, he brought the rifle and ammo with him in his vehicle during a cross-country drive to New York. Investigators are still tracing the parts and purchases, but the prevailing theory is that he built the weapon piece by piece, a method increasingly used by individuals looking to sidestep direct regulation. He also brought meds—lots of them—and notes that showed planning, obsession, and a tunnel-vision kind of fury.
His car, discovered blocks away, functioned as his mobile armory.
If You Hear Shots—Move Like You’ve Trained for It
You don’t need to be a combat veteran to survive an active shooter. But you do need to think like one. The golden rule in any active shooter situation is this: run, hide, fight—in that order.
If there’s a clean escape, take it without hesitation. Move to safety as fast as you can. For the love of God, don’t stop to film what’s going on. This isn’t a day at the beach. And don’t wait for someone to tell you it’s okay to move. When it’s “go time” and the rounds are flying, you are the only one in charge of your destiny. Don’t try to be a hero. If you are with someone else (kids, a friend, etc.), grab them, say firmly, “follow me,” and get the hell out of the kill zone.
Remember, it’s much harder for a gunman (even a trained marksman) to hit a moving target than a stationary one. Make like a rabbit and speed to safety if possible.
If running isn’t possible, your next move is to hide—lock doors, barricade with whatever’s available, silence your phone, and go completely silent. Make yourself a ghost. If the shooter finds you and there’s no other way out, it’s fight time. You use anything and everything: fire extinguishers, chairs, pens, even your fists. Go for the eyes, the throat, the knees. Commit. Half-measures will get you killed. There are no rules here, only one last chance at survival.
Cover vs. Concealment: Know This Before the Rounds Fly
This isn’t a video game. Not all hiding spots are created equal. What I’m about to tell you might save your life. Memorize it.
Concealment hides you from sight—it might keep a shooter from seeing you, but it won’t stop a bullet. Think curtains, cubicles, potted plants. This is plan B. Many bodies have been recovered from active shooter scenarios when victims chose concealment over cover.
Cover, on the other hand, can save your life. Concrete walls, heavy desks, filing cabinets, engine blocks—these can eat rounds and keep you breathing. If you’re stuck, stack materials between you and the threat. Go low, stay behind hard angles, and always assume the shooter knows the building better than you do.
When You’re Trapped in the Kill Zone
If you’re locked in with no way out, think proactively. Barricade the entry point. Shut off the lights. Text 911 if you can—whispering won’t do if you’re ten feet from death. Spread out if you’re in a group. Don’t cluster together like a meatball platter. Keep calm, listen, and be ready to act. Law enforcement will eventually breach…it will seem like forever. When they do, don’t make sudden moves. Keep your hands visible, follow commands, and stay alert to the possibility that more threats could remain.
When It’s All Over
Once the shooting stops, the trauma doesn’t. Adrenaline crashes. Shock sets in. Some people shut down, others spiral. Seek help. Even if you weren’t hit, your nervous system took a hit. Talk to someone. Rehearse what you did right—and what you’d do differently next time. Because sadly, there may be a next time.
Hard Truths and Moving Forward
Tamura didn’t just bring death to Midtown; he brought another brutal reminder that grievance-fueled violence doesn’t always wear a uniform or fly a flag. Sometimes it comes dressed in body armor, talking about brain damage and vengeance.
This shooter was hunting ghosts and found real people instead. The tragedy is senseless. But the lesson is crystal clear: Don’t wait until it happens to you.
Exercise situational awareness. Plan your escape routes. Know your surroundings. Learn the difference between hiding and surviving.
Because when the hammer drops, it’s not the loudest person in the room who lives—it’s the one who’s already halfway to the exit.