LEWISTON, Maine — Ben Dyer was shot five times during Maine’s deadliest mass shooting, when a gunman killed 18 people to a bowling alley and a bar.

A year later, Dyer and fiancée Keela Smith want to turn the worst day of their lives into the best.

Like Lewiston prepares to score THE somber first anniversary On Friday, Dyer and Smith looked hopefully to the second. Dyer proposed to Smith this spring, buoyed by a new outlook on life and determined not to hold back. They chose October 25 as the wedding date next year, the same day as the shoot. They want to get the day back.

“So we can always have a good reminder for us. Something that we don’t fear every year and that doesn’t break our hearts every year,” Smith said. “Because it’s going to be, ‘Oh, this is our wedding day.’ This is the day we took it back and made it ours.”

The couple, both 48, are among dozens of people directly affected by the shooting who are still trying to find ways to overcome physical and emotional trauma. For many, the anniversary brings back unwanted memories.

“I have nightmares every day,” said Megan Vozzella, 39, whose husband Steve Vozzella was killed at Schemengees Bar & Grille. “I will always have nightmares. As we get closer and closer, I’m not sleeping well.”

Megan says her husband managed to crawl out before he died. Thinking of him in pain and trying to hold on is what gives him nightmares.

Vozzella, who is deaf, speaks through a sign language interpreter. Her husband was one of four deaf people killed while playing cornhole at the bar. Megan went to the same school as three of them and they all knew each other well.

Megan and Steve were two weeks away from celebrating their first wedding anniversary when Steve was killed. They met in 2009 and met on a camping trip, something they still enjoy doing together. They have a 13-year-old daughter, Bella. That night, Megan lost both her husband and much of her community.

“We thought we would have a future, raise a family and grow old together. And they’re all gone,” she said. “The world is upside down.”

Lewiston is planning an anniversary ceremony Friday to honor the victims, survivors, first responders and others affected by the tragedy. The evening will include music, speeches and two moments of silence.

The draw started just before 7pm at the Just-In-Time Recreation bowling alley. Armed with a semi-automatic rifle equipped with a scope and laser, Army Reservist Robert Card he killed eight people in 45 seconds. He then drove 4 miles to the bar, where he killed 10 more people. Later he committed suicide.

“We were just a bunch of people sitting around doing something we like,” recalls Dyer, who played cornhole at the bar. “Eating snacks and food, having a few drinks and throwing bags. And then all hell broke loose.”

Dyer lay on the ground after being shot, trying to staunch the blood pouring from his right arm. He looked up to see Card staring at him. As the gunman took aim, Dyer raised his arms and bowed his head, saving him from a fatal shot. He closed his eyes and tried not to breathe.

Dyer lost a finger and the use of his right arm. These days, he buys clothes that are too big so he can slide them on more easily with one hand. He’s still figuring out how to cook and throw cornhole bags with his left hand. Every time he looks at his scars in the shower or fumbles with the buttons on his shirt, it reminds him.

“I’m still living that day,” he said. “But I’m alive.”

In the months leading up to the shooting, both the army and police failed to seize Card’s guns despite knowing his mental health was deteriorating and he was making ominous threats, a commission of inquiry found. About 100 survivors and relatives of the victims are now taking steps to sue Army.

Since the shooting, Maine has strengthened its “yellow flag” law. and made other changes to gun laws. But it did not ban assault weapons, as some advocates wanted.

The US surgeon general declared in June that armed violence a public health crisis. Dr. Vivek Murthy said Americans want to be able to go to school, the supermarket or their house of worship without worrying about being killed. He called for a ban on assault weapons and high-capacity magazines for civilian use.

Dyer, who like many people who live in Maine likes to hunt, said his experience hasn’t changed his views on guns.

“Your car can be a lethal weapon if you want it to be, if you took it to a parade and cut people off,” he said. “So my opinion on guns is no different. I still own them and I still buy them.”

As Dyer speaks on the deck of his Auburn home, the sound of gunfire echoes in the woods beyond. Dyer said the volleys don’t bother him because they’re far away. In fact, he said, he’s excited to learn how to hunt again, this time using only his left arm.

Like Dyer, Vozzella doesn’t see guns as the problem, but instead blames the failings of the mental health system. She remains angry with the police and army for not confiscating Card’s weapons before the massacre.

“They missed a lot of opportunities,” she said.

Vozzella’s daughter remains afraid to go to school, worried that a shooter might appear. It’s been a difficult year for both of them, Vozzella said, but they’ve found solace in going on camping trips and spending time with family and friends.

Vozzella shows the tattoo on his arm he got shortly after the shooting — a heart with angel wings and the words: “In loving memory Stephen M Vozzella.”

“It never gets easier,” she said. “For the rest of my life, it will not be easy to carry on. But I’m slowly getting through each day and finding my new normal.”

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Associated Press reporters Rodrique Ngowi, Robert F. Bukaty, Patrick Whittle, David Sharp and Holly Ramer contributed to this report.