The second day of the Jeremy Christian trial saw eight witnesses—all of them people who had been on the MAX train with Christian on May 26, 2017, or who were on the scene shortly after Christian stabbed three people, killing Ricky Best and Taliesin Namkai-Meche and wounding Micah Fletcher. The witnesses’ varying accounts of that afternoon, and their own reactions to it, shows how thin the line can be between an uncomfortable but manageable interaction and a fatal one.

It also offered insight into how people’s reaction to violent rhetoric is informed by their own identities and life experiences.

(You can read about the first day of the trial and learn more about the charges against Christian here.)

Christian boarded the Green Line MAX headed toward the Clackamas Town Center at around 4:20 pm that day. At that time, several of Tuesday’s witnesses—Amy Farrara, Jessica Krohn, Analuisa Rivera, and Amee Pacheco—were already on board, sitting in the same train car that Christian entered. All four women were coming home from their jobs on the west side of the river, and all used the MAX often to commute.

In court Tuesday, Pacheco recalled that Christian sat down next to her in one of the train’s two-seat rows after boarding, then moved to a seat across from her when it became available. She said Christian began making racist, anti-Islamic, and xenophobic comments soon after boarding. But she wasn’t overly concerned at first, and she didn’t think other passengers were either.

“It’s not uncommon to have people on the train yelling,” Pacheco said.

As Christian’s behavior grew more erratic, Pacheco was one of a group of people repeatedly telling him to “shut up.”

Analuisa Rivera, sitting nearby, had a different reaction. Rivera noticed Christian soon after he boarded as well, and recalled him making derogatory comments about Muslims and saying people “should go to their own country.”

“In my four years [riding the MAX], I had never witnessed something like that,” Rivera said Tuesday through a Spanish-language interpreter, using a tissue to catch her tears as she spoke. “[I felt] intimidated … Because I am a woman of color. I am Mexican.”

As the MAX train continued traveling eastward, Christian’s rhetoric escalated, and the volume of his voice rose. Amy Farrara and Jessica Krohn, sisters-in-law who worked at the U.S. Bancorp Tower and often commuted home together, also noticed the commotion Christian was causing.

“There was a lot of shouting, and arguing between some people,” Krohn said. “It’s the MAX, so there’s often shouting, but it seemed to reach a breaking point midway between the Lloyd Center and the Hollywood Transit Center. That’s when the driver came on the intercom telling people to calm down.”

Though Farrara and Krohn weren’t quite sure what was happening, something told them to get their phones out and start filming as the train moved closer to the Hollywood stop. Rivera started filming on her phone as well.

In the same train car, two military veterans—Shawn Forde and Morgan Noonan—were trying to strike a balance between wanting to keep their fellow passengers safe, and not escalating the situation with Christian.

Noonan had his earbuds in, but wasn’t playing any audio in them—a habit of his, he said, that keeps people from bothering him during his commute. That's why he heard when Christian started shouting “mostly racist comments mixed with political statements… provocative behaviors.” He had a bad feeling Christian might not stop at ugly words.

“For me, why would someone say that on a crowded train?” Noonan said. “I was thinking, ‘You must be confident with yourself saying that in this crowd.’ That’s when the hairs on my neck went up.”

But Noonan chose not to approach Christian, noting that “I’m not going to convince him not to be a racist in 15 to 20 minutes by walking up to him and trying to explain why he’s wrong.”

Noonan, who is white, has a Black son. He said he’s learned through his son’s experiences that trying to engage with people saying racist things can often make matters worse.

“African Americans have a much higher tolerance than [white people] do,” he said, “because there are different ramifications to what they do.”

Shawn Forde, a 6-foot-4 Black veteran of the Marine corps, was making a similar calculation around this time. He saw Christian harassing two young Black women, one of whom was wearing a hijab. “He was looking right at them, talking about slicing throats,” Forde said. Forde inserted himself in front of the girls, hoping to absorb some of Christian’s hateful speech for them. But he was reluctant to get too close to Christian, or try speaking with him.

“I’m in the whitest city in the whitest state, so I’m aware of people saying things to me,” Forde said. “Life experience has told me engagements like this can end badly. … He was amping himself up for something, I just didn’t know what it was.”

Instead of confronting Christian, Forde pushed the red button that alerts the MAX operator of an emergency on board. He said he must have pressed it 20 times in a row.

The story of what happened next is now well-known. Tensions escalated between Christian and three men—Best, Namkai-Meche, and Fletcher—and Christian stabbed all three just as the train was pulling into the Hollywood station.

Videos shot by Farrara, Krohn, and Rivera were shown in court Tuesday. They depict people screaming and running to the other side of the car as the train slows to a stop.

From Krohn’s video: “Oh shit. Oh my god.” “Help!” “911, 911.” “In the neck, in the neck.”

In Rivera’s video, cries of “Somebody help me” and “Oh my gosh” ring out as the automated MAX voice declares “Doors to my left. Puertas a la izquierda.”

Pacheco, who was still sitting near Christian during the stabbings, said her memory goes blank when trying to recall that part of the MAX ride. But a photo shown in court depicts her grabbing Christian’s arm as he holds a knife, trying to disable him.

“I became scared when I realized he had stabbed [people],” Pacheco said. “I thought it was going to be a fight where he was pushing and hitting. It didn’t occur to me that he would actually hurt anyone.”

“I underestimated the situation,” Pacheco added.

She also saw Christian lunge toward Forde, yelling “Who wants some more?” But Forde avoided making contact with Christian as he stepped off the train.

At the Hollywood MAX station, army veteran Marcus Knipe was waiting to board a Westbound train with his family and a neighbor. The group was planning to go to the Rose Festival carnival on the Portland Waterfront. As he neared the MAX, Knipe saw Micah Fletcher stumble out of the eastbound train with a deep wound in his neck.

“I heard some screaming before doors opened,” Knipe said. “When doors opened there was more screaming. People were rushing off the MAX and on the stairs to leave the area. That’s when I knew something was wrong.”

Knipe used his basic army medical training to help Fletcher until the first responders arrived. Those first responders included Jason Young, a Gresham Police Department officer who was part of the regional transit police division.

Young was in his patrol car when he first got the call that something was happening on an eastbound MAX train.

“It was reported that there was someone on the train yelling, swearing, yelling lots of racist-type things,” Young said in court.

“What went through your mind?” asked Don Rees, a prosecuting attorney.

“Just another disturbance on the train,” Young answered. “We get a lot of those calls everyday.”