A Tulsa shooting victim died barricading a door. His wife watched their 54-year marriage end without a goodbye.
TULSA, Okla. — Deborah and William Love were at a routine appointment for her recent back surgery when they heard gunfire. The elderly couple were in an exam room with a physician assistant on the second floor of the Natalie Building on the Saint Francis Health System campus.
More shots rang out.
"We heard it up front, 'pow, pow,'" Deborah Love, 72, said. "(The physician assistant) stuck his head out the door and he said, 'It's a shooter.'"
The door of the room did not have a lock, so the three propped their bodies against it to keep the gunman out.
Police later said the target of the attack was Dr. Preston Phillips, who performed Deborah's back surgery in December, and a similar surgery on William, her husband of 54 years, in April of 2021.
As the door knob began to rattle from the outside, Deborah said the only thing going through her mind was "we were going to get killed."
WATCH: Tulsa shooter had 'intent to kill' doctor after ongoing pain from surgery, police say
When the shooter couldn't get into the room, the three could hear him move down the hallway. The physician assistant left the room, Deborah said. She and her husband stayed behind, holding the door shut in case the shooter returned.
"Then we could hear him coming back," Deborah recalled.
The gunman tried to push through the door again, then fired through it, striking William.
"He went down, and he didn't say a thing ... he laid there moaning," Deborah said before breaking into tears. "He wouldn't turn over and he wouldn't say nothing and his eyes weren't open."
She pressed her hand against the gunshot wound, which she indicated was near his left shoulder, in an effort to staunch the bleeding.
BACKGROUND: Tulsa shooter blamed doctor for ongoing pain, then shot 'anyone who got in his way,' police say
"He lost the blood so quick," Deborah recalled. "I thought maybe they hit his artery in his neck."
"It didn't look good," Deborah said, sharing her story from the gravel driveway of her home in Mannford, Oklahoma, a little more than 24 hours after her husband was killed. "I don't know where the bullets went that went through the door. I don't remember seeing them ... unless one stayed in him, I don't know."
The couple that would have been married 55 years in August weren't able to say goodbye to each other. William never regained consciousness, Deborah said, and when law enforcement officials arrived she was forced to leave and was not allowed to stay with her husband.
William was one of four people killed by the gunman, Michael Louis, in the Wednesday afternoon attack at the medical facility before Louis fatally shot himself. The others included Dr. Phillips, another doctor, Stephanie Husen and a receptionist, Amanda Glenn.
Police say Louis went to the facility armed with an handgun and AR-15 style rifle he purchased just an hour before the attack with the intent of killing Phillips. The doctor had had performed back surgery on him a few weeks earlier and Louis blamed him for his continued pain, police said.
Deborah was taken to a nearby high school while St. Francis doctors worked to save William, but the couple's daughter, Karen Love, was told that his wound was "catastrophic."
Some of the family rushed to Tulsa as soon as they heard about the shooting — skid marks on a paved part of the driveway are still visible at the home where the family parks vehicles.
But they still haven't seen William's body due to the ongoing investigation.
"My sister and I wanted to (see him), and so that part was hard," Karen said.
'That's why he held that door'
William and Deborah Love were from Lyons, Georgia, and grew up much differently than the life they built for their children.
Born in a rural sharecropping family, William probably didn't own a pair of shoes until the age of 14. His father died when he was around 6 months old, and his mother died when he was 12.
"(William) was the kind of guy that they don't make anymore," said his son-in-law Bobby Lowry. "That's why he did what he did ... that's why he held that door."
If you want to help: How to help Tulsa shooting victims, families
Standing in a circle in the gravel driveway, the sun beating down its warm rays, Williams wife, daughters, son-in-law and grandson smiled and laughed as they remembered William.
Karen Love shared that William was an amazing dancer from the time he was 8, and his favorites were the two-step and jitterbug. "He could cut a rug," family members would often say.
Cheryl Lowry, William and Deborah's youngest daughter, smiled as she said her dad looked like James Dean back in the day.
William and Deborah were married in 1967, and William joined the army the next year. He served for 27 years, including a tour in Vietnam.
"He made a whole lot for himself," Cheryl said.
Passions for his country, travel and his military service
William flew two now-tattered American flags outside the home in Mannford — one next to a soldier figurine that wears First Sergeant insignia, his rank in the army — a physical representation of what his children described as a strong sense of patriotism.
Just this week, William told Karen he needed to order some new flags, she said.
Karen Love said her father was passionate about traveling and wanted his daughters to see the world. They were able to visit many countries during his service in the military.
"He exposed us to stuff we'd have never seen if we just stayed in a trailer or small home in Georgia," Karen said.
Fact? Checked. Make sure you have the real story with the Checking the Facts newsletter.
For over a decade, William and Deborah lived out of a nice motorhome. They would spend time in Oklahoma from June to October, missing the cold winter and tornado season, and spent the rest of the year traveling the country.
They moved in with Karen, in Mannford, when William was diagnosed with cancer in 2019. But he was a fighter, his family said, later beating the sickness.
"He was the toughest man I ever met," said his grandson Kevin Calibani.
William and Deborah recently bought a brand-new RV, with plans to travel again.
Now, the RV sits parked between two storage buildings on the north side of the Mannford property. It will likely be unused by Deborah, who is unable to travel alone, according to her daughter.
A loving husband, father and granddad
William told his daughters they could "do anything," Karen said.
And in the modern age, a favorite way he showed his care was to send random texts of encouragement, his daughter Cheryl said. She received those two or three times a week, she said.
"He was very demonstrative with his love," Karen said.
And even when he was sick or not feeling his best, he made time for his grandchildren, his grandson Kevin Calibani recalled.
"Whenever we were kids, playing football with him he'd still chase our ass down," Calibani said.
'Bill died a hero'
During Thursday's press conference, St. Francis Associate Chief Medical Officer Dr. Ryan Parker was brought to tears while apologizing that her staff was unable to save William's life.
"To the family of Mr. Love, I'm so sorry we couldn't save you," Parker said. "We are grieving with you."
Thinking back on the horrific events that took William's life, his family is in agreement that what happened that day happened for a reason.
In fact, Deborah's appointment was originally scheduled for 11 a.m. that Wednesday. It was pushed back twice, first to 1 p.m. and finally to 4 p.m.
And if that wasn't enough, the physician assistant they were seeing was a little late to the appointment. From all appearances, the two should not have been there when they were.
"I'm not the most religious dude in the world," said son-in-law Bobby Lowry. "But if you are then you have to believe God put that dude there for a reason."
Certainly, the family knows that if William hadn't been there with his wife to hold the door closed, it could have been her that was shot.
"Bill died a hero," Bobby Lowry said.