'Channel your anger': Shooting survivors offer advice after Jacksonville attack

Garnell Whitfield Jr. knows what a long and challenging path lies ahead for the survivors of the deadly shooting of three Black people by a white gunman at a Dollar General in Jacksonville, Florida.

A little more than a year ago, a white gunman armed with a semiautomatic rifle killed 10 people at Tops Friendly Markets in Buffalo, New York, including Whitfield's 86-year-old mother, Ruth Whitfield. In documents posted online, that shooter said he hoped the attack would help preserve white power and that he picked the grocery store because it was in a predominantly Black neighborhood.

Whitfield's life was immediately changed. In the 15 months since, he has had to deal with an influx of media requests, addressed Congress about proposed gun control measures, met with survivors of other mass killings and began developing a memorial to the victims in Buffalo.

He's been so busy, he said, he hasn't had time to grieve. But there's more work to be done. He said he hopes to connect with people in Jacksonville, the newest members of "a club that nobody wants to belong to."

"Life is going to be very different for them," he said.

As hate crimes continue to increase in U.S. cities, those who lived through attacks against Black Americans in Buffalo and in Charleston, South Carolina say while life might never be the same, Jacksonville residents may be able to heal by coming together to create change and publicly honoring their loved ones.

"When that nightmare comes to life and white supremacist violence comes to your community it's really destabilizing, it's really traumatizing and very scary," said Kelly Sampson, senior counsel and director of racial justice at the Brady Center to Prevent Gun Violence. "So there's that need to heal writ large."

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Max Anderson, deputy director of the nonprofit organization Open Buffalo, recalled the "deep sense of loss" in the community immediately following the shooting in Buffalo.

"There were people just kind of milling around and in the street by the hundreds," he said. "Hugging, crying, consoling one another, just talking, just looking for human connection."

Initially a "media frenzy" descended upon the area around Tops, but Anderson said days later reporters quickly began leaving as news broke of another mass shooting at a school in Uvalde, Texas.

More than a year later, Whitfield said the Buffalo shooting is "an afterthought in many cases," but he and the community are still working to recover. The pain of the shooting was "heaped upon our pre-existing trauma, trauma of poverty, trauma of discrimination and racism," he said.

Whitfield has had trouble sleeping and said it's been difficult to access mental health care.

"My life is just kind of a mess," he said. "Trying to navigate the so-called systems that are in place to assist victims of violence has been very frustrating."

He advised those in Jacksonville to be proactive about asking for help.

"Find a way to channel your anger, your frustration, in a positive way," he said. "Because oftentimes what happens is, the anger will consume you and you become just like the people who you're angry at."

Healing after a mass shooting

It has been almost a decade since nine churchgoers were killed at the historic Emanuel AME Church, also known as “Mother Emanuel" in Charleston, South Carolina, and that community is still healing. The members — including Susie Jackson, an 87-year-old church trustee and choir member — were at Bible study on June 17, 2015, when a white man joined them and later fatally shot nine of them. Five others survived.

For Melvin Graham, whose younger sister, Cynthia Graham Hurd, was among those killed in Charleston, the healing started for him when soon after the shooting at Emanuel he saw an elderly white woman walking with a bouquet of flowers toward the church. Many had come to place flowers outside the church to honor the victims.

"That's when it sort of hit me that people care," he recalled, adding that the crowd didn’t know at the time that he was Hurd's brother. “Because at that time I was expecting people to run away for fear that, ‘Oh, my gosh there's going to be retribution so I need to stay as far away as possible.’ But instead, people rallied together.”

In the years since, the church and community have held commemoration services. There are monuments throughout the city to honor them, including nine wooden benches with their names on them at a park near the church. A plaque at the front of the church lists their names. A memorial garden is named in honor of Jackson. The names of others are on buildings, including the Cynthia Graham Hurd/St. Andrews Library.

The Graham family also started a book drive. Hurd, who was a librarian, was an avid reader. The foundation has given away thousands of books to local youth.

Healing takes years, Graham said. And there are scars as reminders. And then that gut-punching pain when there's another racist attack.

There have been 34 mass killings in which four or more victims are killed in 2023 according to a database by USA TODAY, The Associated Press and Northeastern University. Meanwhile, hate crimes increased 11.6% in 2021, according to a revised FBI report released earlier this year, and Black people were targeted more than any other racial group.

"In Jacksonville, if the Black and the white community come together to say, ‘This is not who we are as a community. This is not who I am as a person. This is something I will not tolerate,’ then the community can heal," Graham said.

Last year, faith leaders and Biblical scholars from across the country gathered at the church to teach a Bible study on Mark 4:1-20, the lesson churchgoers were studying the night they were killed.

Plans are underway to create the Emanuel Nine Memorial at the church. Church officials hope it will provide a safe space for reflections and help with healing.

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Unlike in Jacksonville, the shooters in Buffalo and Charleston survived to face stateandfederalcharges, including hate crime charges. Some victims' families have since had to face them in court. Earlier this year in Erie County Court, family members of several Buffalo shooting victims spoke about their loved ones and the ongoing mental and physical impacts of the shooting during an emotional sentencing hearing.

Some angrily condemned the shooter. Others, like Kimberly Salter, the widow of security guard Aaron Salter, quoted from the Bible or said they were praying for him.

Christopher Braden said he suffered from PTSD after being shot in the leg and described the slow, painful recovery process.

“Visions haunt me in my sleep every night,” he said. “My scars and pain remind me of how strong I've become.”

Just days after the attack in Charleston, Sharon Risher recalled watching on television from her home in Dallas, Texas as her sister, Nadine Collier, forgave the man who killed their mother, 70-year-old Ethel Lee Lance, at his bond hearing.

"I started screaming and hollering because I couldn't believe it," she said.

It took her nearly two years, but Risher said she, too, was eventually able to forgive the shooter. She credits her faith with helping her change her mindset.

"When I said those words, I was finally released of that and it was like a big relief, a big sigh to say I finally have this off of me," she said.

Still, Risher said the ongoing appeal process has been a constant reminder of the shooting, and she believes it may be a good thing the families in Jacksonville will be spared that experience.

"They won't have to go through a trial, they won't have to go through all of that, and appeals and everything," she said. "So to have the killer not around, it sure will help."

Survivors and families of the victims in Buffalo have also filed a lawsuit against social media companies, the manufacturers of the shooter's weapons and body armor and the shooter's parents.

More than a dozen plaintiffs filed civil cases against the FBI after the Charleston massacre, but it wasn't until 2021 that the Justice Department announced it had reached an $88 million settlement in those cases.

Victims' families turn to advocacy as shootings continue

Survivors of mass shootings have often demanded stronger gun control legislation and fought to keep the memories of their loved ones alive.

Less than a month after the shooting in Buffalo, New York Gov. Kathy Hochul signed 10 public safety-related bills, including one prohibiting New Yorkers under age 21 from buying semiautomatic rifles, making the state among the first to enact a major gun control initiative following a wave of deadly mass shootings.

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One day later, Whitfield challenged Congress to stop the “cancer of white supremacy” and the growing epidemic of gun violence in an emotional hearing on Capitol Hill. Congress later passed the Bipartisan Safer Communities Act, the largest gun safety package in three decades. The measure aims to keep dangerous people from getting firearms and to invest in school safety and mental health resources.

Whitfield said the goal of his advocacy work is to make "sure that people are not allowed to forget what happened here."

He said the situation in Jacksonville is "particularly difficult" because of local leaders such as Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis, who was booed while speaking at a vigil for the victims and has faced criticism for his policies, including the approval of new African American history standards. Whitfield said he hopes the incident will lead those survivors to call for change, too.

In Charleston, many initially focused on removing the Confederate flag from the front of the state Capitol. For many Black citizens, the flag stood as a symbol of slavery and oppression. The shooter posed for photographs in front of the Confederate flag.

That happened. Then efforts turned to legislative action. But a bill aimed at curbing access to guns through expanded background checks failed.

There was also a push for more economic support, including doing more business with minority vendors and companies.

Another bill that would enhance penalties for a hate crime passed the South Carolina House, but hasn’t moved in the Senate. Marlon Kimpson, a former South Carolina senator who represented the district where the Charleston shooting happened, believed there was more resistance in part because it mentions LGBTQ communities.

“Those were efforts that grew out of the tragedy,’’ Kimpson, a Democrat, said. “But even though some of those failed, there is a continuing social engagement and level of activism to push other agenda initiatives.’’

Still, he said, more work needs to be done to heal. “It’s an ongoing process. Even as we look at Charleston today there’s still not economic parity,’’ he said.

Risher has become a volunteer with Moms Demand Action, part of Everytown for Gun Safety. She participates in speaking engagements, meets with other survivors and has written a book about her experiences, all of which she said has helped her process the trauma of the shooting.

"Some people probably won't go that route, but that was the route that saved me," she said.

Despite these efforts, new mass shootings continue to make headlines. Risher said hearing about shootings like the one in Jacksonville takes "you right back to the day that all of that was going on for you."

"Your life is never gonna be the same," she said. "That's just the bottom line."

Contributing: Grace Hauck and Jeanine Santucci, USA TODAY; The Associated Press