Jessica Dean spent her Tuesday evening reading charging documents from the Jackson County Prosecutor’s Office over and over again, trying to make sense of what happened when gunfire erupted last week following the Chiefs Super Bowl LVIII victory rally.

Dean, a nurse at a hospice care facility in Wichita, was one of thousands leaving the rally Wednesday, when she heard at least a dozen shots. People pushed and ran through the crowd.

She was leaving with some family members to find the rest of their party, when she saw two men and a woman bleeding on the ground near a guardrail. Someone had already begun CPR on one of the men.

As crowds ran from Union Station, Dean told a police officer near the other man — who she later learned was Lyndell Mays — that she was a nurse. The officer allowed her to help.

“I think my brain was telling me to run, that ‘you have a husband, you have kids at home, you’ve got to go,’” she said. “There’s something about, when you see somebody laying there like that, my heart could just not leave them.

“If it was me or somebody I loved, and the roles were reversed,” she continued, “I would want or hope that somebody would help.”

On Tuesday, Mays was charged with second-degree felony murder, unlawful use of a weapon and two counts of armed criminal action. Dominic M. Miller, who was also allegedly involved in the altercation, faces the same charges.

The incident left 24 people injured by gunfire, and killed 43-year-old Lisa Lopez-Galvan, a mother and beloved local disc jockey.

Jackson County prosecutors allege the shooting began after an altercation between Mays and a group of people they say he had no prior history with. The group allegedly approached Mays to see “why they were staring at each other,” according to probable cause affidavits.

Mays was allegedly the first person to fire a gun in the crowd, before he was subsequently shot and taken to an area hospital.

‘I don’t want anybody’s life to end’

When Dean started to help Mays, she noticed a bullet wound in his chest, and another near his groin that bled as she started chest compressions. To stop the bleeding, she grabbed the sweatshirt from her waist and put pressure on his wound, she said.

At one point, she noticed the officer standing behind her, probably to keep her from the handgun she noticed laying a few inches from her knee. The officer told her he’d stay there, in case the shooters returned.

When emergency medical crews arrived, they took over for Dean.

As Dean stood, she heard people arguing behind her, as some in the crowd tried to take photos of the victims who were being treated. She joined hands with someone next to her, and a group of them formed a circle around the victims, in hopes of giving them privacy.

Dean also learned that Mays’ sister was behind her. She explained to her what EMS said about her brother — that he was in critical condition but still had a pulse and was getting the help he needed.

It’s difficult, Dean said, to know that the person she helped is accused of inciting the violence that day, but she doesn’t regret what she did. As a nurse, she said it’s important to help any person, regardless of who they are.

Dean started her career as a nurse in a correctional facility, but she said she avoided looking up the charges brought against the people she cared for. She didn’t want their past actions to affect the treatment she provided, even if it was inadvertent.

After the shooting but before charges were filed, Dean talked with Mays’ sister again for an update on his condition. If she could go back, Dean said she would still help Mays without hesitation. She wishes the best for his family and knows they’re dealing with a lot.

“At the end of the day, I still wanted to know how he was doing,’ Dean said. “Despite the charges that he’s facing, I don’t want anybody’s life to end, regardless of their involvement in it.

“Even with his (alleged) involvement and getting the gun out and everything else, I wish he nor anyone else that day would’ve been a victim of gun violence.”

Support from loved ones

After emergency medical crews stepped in, Dean found the rest of her family and returned to the Kansas City apartment where they were staying.

Originally, they planned to stay until the next day to continue celebrating the Super Bowl victory, but they packed their bags instead. Dean showered and threw away her bloodied clothes and shoes.

During the three-hour drive back to Wichita, Dean, her sister and her sister-in-law didn’t talk about the shooting.

In the days to come, they knew they’d hear more about what happened on the news and relive the moments over and over. But in the car, they could turn off the radio and reminisce on the births of their children and major birthday parties.

“We decided we were going to keep our minds on something a little bit happier,” Dean said.

While Dean was originally supposed to take time off the rest of the week, she asked her boss to return to work early. She wanted something to do during the day, so that she could keep her mind off the tragedy she had experienced.

She’s talked to her nine siblings and other family every day since the shooting and told her older kids about what she experienced.

Her best friend stopped at a Scheel’s in Wichita and told them about Dean’s shoes — a gift from her 22-year-old stepson that were ruined by blood. The store associates replaced the pair and also gave her a sweatshirt, shirt and leggings.

It’s been hard to sleep some nights, Dean said, but her family, friends and community have helped her as she continues to cope.

“I usually like to be the one being supportive and trying to help other people,” Dean said, “but it’s nice when you need it to know that people can be there for you, too.”

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