Last Friday, John Hackney had already left his restaurant for the night when Laura “Lauri” Ann Carleton was shot and killed two miles away.

Both were business owners in Lake Arrowhead, a scenic alpine town in California. Hackney owns the neighborhood gastropub The Lakefront Tap Room, and Carleton—a mother of nine children—owned a clothing store named Mag.Pi a five-minute drive away.

Hackey tells Reckon that he and Carleton were not close on a personal basis, but that she was a regular at his restaurant and that he was “definitely aware of her presence in the community” and that she was “a really prominent part” of the community at large. In an Instagram post by Lake Arrowhead LGBTQ, a local queer organization, a comment said, “The mountain is a little dimmer now.”

Gunman Travis Ikeguchi murdered Carleton last week after making “disparaging remarks” over a Pride flag hung outside of Mag.Pi, according to a news release by the San Bernardino Sheriff Department.

Flags symbolize community membership and unity, and the LGBTQ pride flag was first created by Gilbert Baker in 1978 when elected official Harvey Milk asked for a flag to represent the LGBTQ community. The pride flag has since evolved to include the trans flag colors, Black and brown members of the community and intersex people. In the height of the AIDS and HIV epidemic, the pride flag was intended to replace shame with resilience within the community.

For Carleton, who was not of the LGBTQ community and whose shop was not specifically for queer people, the display of her pride flag symbolized her allyship for the community.

Now, business owners like Hackney are wrestling their desire to publicly support the LGBTQ community while keeping their businesses safe.

Lake Arrowhead is nearly 78% white, according to the 2022 Census, and 47% of all residents are registered Republican, according to San Bernardino County government data. Both state senators representing the town are also elected Republicans.

Hackney adds that due to COVID-19, where people from nearby places like Los Angeles sought to move out and buy homes, he’s noticed that the area see an increase in more progressive residents—though right-wing extremists remain.

His restaurant, which holds a Google Maps “LGBTQ-friendly” attribute, goes all out for Pride Month.

“We sponsor the boat parade that happens in Lake Arrowhead, and we have rainbow flags all through the month of June, as well as rainbow Jello shots on parade day,” Hackney said. “We’re definitely very colorful.”

Despite the shooting, Hackey still feels persistent in expressing his support for LGBTQ by adding a “This is a safe space” banner on the window of the restaurant. Though he still admits feeling somewhat fearsome, following Carleton’s murder.

“All of a sudden, it’s kind of a heavy decision to do this,” he said. “But I’m not going to let a terrorist dictate what we do and say at our business. It’s a really fine line that we’re going to have to walk.”

There is some semblance of protection: Hackney feels that his location in a touristy area offers security and surveillance that’s higher than the rest of Lake Arrowhead. Outside of California, other business owners are ruminating over the same problem.

Even businesses in progressive towns across the nation are having to reconcile with public displays of pride. Because public displays range from official “LGBTQ-friendly” attributes on businesses’ Google pages to informal pride stickers on their front doors, there is no reliable data for how many businesses are open about queer support. Based on accounts in Kentucky and Florida, Carleton’s murder is echoing a sense of doubt nationwide.

During Pride Month, one of the drink specials at Trouble Bar was called “F*ck DeSantis,” referring to Florida’s governor spearheading anti-LGBTQ legislation this past year. Kaitlyn Soligan Owens is the co-founder and co-owner of the bar, based in Louisville, Ky.

When the bar first opened, a ramp was installed instead of any stairs so that those with mobility issues could come in the front door and not face any challenges. Most of their bartenders have typically been folks of color. Walking into the bar, there are two flags on right, saying: “Abide no hatred,” while the other says “Better South.”

“To get all the way to our bar and be upset about anything, you must have gotten past these giant flags,” said Owens, who is a Jewish and queer woman whose activism started in the 90′s. “I come from the ACT UP, die-in, loud, proud and very confrontational time of activism.”

For Owens, putting up a big sign is an effective way to communicate most effectively to people when they’re engaged in a physical space. Recently, Trouble Bar partnered up with local artist Shelby Rodeffer to illustrate a mural on their ceiling-to-floor windows that say, “Pride began in a bar.”

As someone who is responsible for the establishment, Owens felt discouraged by the murder of Carleton and what that might look like for her bar and its staff members. She told Reckon that “[Lauri’s murder] was the saddest fucking thing I can possibly imagine.”

Having weighed the pros and cons of being vocally progressive while minimizing harm, Owens is choosing to follow her gut, which tells her to keep being publicly outspoken.

“If someone would like to tell me what I can do that will keep me and the people I love safe, I will do it,” she said. “But what the United States has taught me is that nothing I do will keep me safe, so I might as well just do what I want. The greatest threat we face is still domestic terrorism.”

Given that the Pulse nightclub shooting in 2016 happened down the street from his restaurant, anti-LGBTQ shootings are not unprecedented for Jason Lambert. Lambert is the owner of The Hammered Lamb, a neighborhood pub based in Orlando, Fl. Since the shooting seven years ago, security guards work at The Hammered Lamb on the weekends.

Since Gov. DeSantis passed an open-carry law this year, which allows the carrying of concealed weapons without having a government permit.

On the patio of The Hammered Lamb is a large rainbow mural that says, “Peace Love Pulse.” On one of the walls, a six-by-eight feet artwork looms over the crowd. Made from 15,000 bottle caps, the colors are arranged to resemble a rainbow.

“There’s no question that we’re gay friendly,” Lambert said.

He tells Reckon that the climate nationwide right now is “so hostile and toxic,” and that he completely redid The Hammered Lamb’s alarm and camera systems, as well as implementing more panic buttons to be prepared and be extra cautious.

“Pulse was an eye opener for us,” he said, adding that his colleagues who are business owners are feeling tentative about public support. “Especially in the straight community, there are a lot of business owners I know that are actively supportive behind the scenes but don’t advertise it to not risk the blowback or loss of business.”

According to Lambert, the fear overall has not deterred business owners from still doing what they believe is right—prioritizing safety for staff and for customers.

“We’re not gonna go back in the closet or be ashamed of who we are,” he said.

Owen believes that a part of being vocal about politics comes with the territory of being susceptible to harm. Beyond Carleton’s murder, showing public displays of LGBTQ pride is a risk she is willing to take as a business owner.

“I worry every time the door opens. I will always worry every time the door opens.”