This following is a first person account of the shooting at a Knoxville church on July 27, 2008.

Per Wiki: An unemployed Tennessee truck driver named Jim David Adkisson went on a shooting rampage at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church in Knoxville, Tennessee. Adkisson opened fire on members of the congregation during a church youth performance, killing two people and wounding six others before he was restrained by church members; according to police, he had planned to keep shooting until the police arrived and killed him.

The account: I don’t remember what the weather was like that morning as we drove to visit a church that somebody had told us was a good place. I can’t recall exactly why we decided to visit on that particular day, and certainly have forgotten what I ate that morning. I don’t know what was on my mind as we pulled into the parking lot, but I assume I was grumpy as it’s a safe bet that’s what I am feeling when my wife drags me into a place I have never been before. I am also pretty sure that I kept those thoughts to myself because as any wise man knows, it’s best to not argue with a woman who has just a few weeks left in her pregnancy on pretty much anything.
I don’t remember what we talked about as we walked our two-year old son Cooper, our only child at the time, to the children’s area and then proceeded to the sanctuary. I didn’t really know what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was going to be a children’s show, “Annie, Jr”, instead of the normal Sunday service, as I am sorry to say I find sermons pretty dry for the most part. I actually do remember thinking that was something I could never have imagined taking place at the churches I grew up in, but if I was going to be dragged out on a Sunday morning to a place I had never been at least it might be entertaining.
I don’t remember a single face of another person as we sat down on the pews on the back-right side of the sanctuary as this was our first time there and we knew no one. I have limited recollection of the exact song and couldn’t tell you where we were in the play when a gentleman walked in late to the back of chapel with a guitar case. I couldn’t tell you what he looked like because I wasn’t facing that direction. Unfortunately, this is when a perfectly ordinary day became unforgettable…
BOOM…I was startled by what I thought was an extremely loud sound effect as part of the play. BOOM, I hear a few screams and shrieks, BOOM. I see the lady in front of us fall over quickly, the children on stage are running for cover, and everyone around us is trying to crawl under the pews for safety. Panicking because my extremely pregnant wife wouldn’t fit under the pew, I push her as far down as she will go between the benches. I lay on top of her while trying to look and see what was going on around behind us. A scuffle by the entrance is the only real movement I see. I taste the smell of smoke and dust and something else in the air around us, and then it was over. It couldn’t have lasted much more than a minute, but I live that minute regularly in my mind.
I remember crawling and helping others stumble out of the fire exit of the building. I can’t forget our fear that there was more than a single shooter around us. I clearly recall the kind group of people who volunteered to stay with my wife as I went to try and find my son. I remember frantically trying to stay low and move quickly around the outside of the church to the back corner where the children had been located, climbing the gate, and not feeling any relief when no one could be found. I will never forget the joy when we were returned our son from the church next door. The next few hours are less clear as the police came and eventually let us go home. I do remember gathering my wife, soon to be daughter, and son into our car, and driving away.
When we got back to our apartment, my in-laws came over to be with us. I remember calling my parents and completely breaking down. I recall the anxiety I felt that Jes would go into labor from the trauma. I vividly remember seeing the spot of blood on my wife’s purse that never went away from one of the two victims who died that day. I never replaced the broken shoelace on my shoes from when it got caught climbing over the gate that day. I also remember going to the police station to give a statement and returning to the church once more because I refused to be afraid of a place. I remember feeling terrible grief and anger over the stupidity of it all.
July 27th, 2008 was one of the worst days of my life and a memory that I hoped would eventually fade in time. Unfortunately, I am reminded of it every time another person walks into a place with a gun and shoots innocent people. The frequency of these reminders seem to come almost daily over the 4,000+ days since I lived it even though I know that isn’t true. Most people have the privilege of forgetting there was a shooting at a church in Knoxville over a decade ago, but not those of us directly impacted by it. Hell, it isn’t even remembered as a “mass shooting” because only 2 people died and 6 were injured. I envy those with the ability to forget that every time these things happen, the victims aren’t just those who died.
If I remember correctly, it was Einstein who said, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” Unfortunately, Einstein isn’t here today to remind us of the ability to unite together to fight a common foe. Amidst the barrage of people arguing, politicians pontificating and the endless stream of innocent victims, I just wish we would remember that we all should be fighting against people dying, and the only reason politics is involved is because that is the only way to change laws. I pray we remember that every day spent bickering and name-calling while another innocent dies or is traumatized from an active shooter is just another day of choosing to do nothing about it.