This past weekend I had the privilege of attending the 2025 Oklahoma Press Association Conference at the Grand in Shawnee with my colleagues from several sister newspapers. On Saturday night, I had the honor of winning first place in Community Leadership with my “Boo to Domestic Violence” campaign where I shed light on the dangers and reality of Domestic Violence in the county in our local Checotah newspaper, the McIntosh County Democrat. However, this year’s win has been bittersweet, not just because my daughter and I have lived through our own domestic abuse nightmares, but because we just laid to rest our own loved one, Rachel Lenèe Stewart, the day before this conference. Though we desperately try our hardest to bring awareness to this horrific problem every year, domestic violence doesn’t ever take a day off. Hence it has literally left us devastated and at a loss for words as it has forced us to say goodbye way too soon.

Two weeks ago our lives literally changed forever. In the small rural town where I grew up, a horrific act of violence stole away a daughter, a niece, a sister, a cousin, a mother and a friend from our family. On May 27, a devastating decision made by one young man not only cost Rachel her life but also his life. This senseless act left two families agonizing the reality that their loved ones will never be coming home and worse their children, three of his and one of hers, will mourn their parents’ untimely death for the rest of their lives. Sadly, I understand this murder – suicide is not just a tragedy for us as family but also to the whole county that watched these kids grow up in our communities. She was the band color guard who performed every Friday night during football season. He was the football player that we cheered on as he scored a touchdown. She was the soloist in the church program who could belt out a tune like no other. He was the lost soul trying to make it back to a caring Savior. So how did this senseless act happen? Why did we just have to bury a beautiful 31-year-old who was still needed by her 7-year-old son? Why did he resolve to leave his three children fatherless? There are still so many questions and no real resolutions. You are just in disbelief and constant grief wondering how you could have seen this coming and how you could have stopped it.

Yet when I got the frantic call from Rachel’s aunt Leslie Gail, I assure you I never thought I would hear the words “Rachel has been shot.” And when I was finally able to reach someone in authority to ask them which hospital she was being taken to I never in a million years thought I’d hear the words “She’s not being taken anywhere.” As those words resounded in my head, my mind tried to desperately process what this officer was really saying to me so I asked, “Are you telling me she’s dead?” And he stated “Yes ma’am I am. I’m so sorry.” I think those words will forever remain in my memory. They were so final, so heart wrenching and yet so infuriating! I found my emotions swinging from one extreme to the next but in the end I had to come to grips with the reality that Rachel was never coming home, would never grace our presence again and would never get to watch her baby boy grow up to become the man God called him to be.

For days I had to personally pick up the pieces of this family’s shattered lives. I had to ask my son to go with me to her home late on the night she was killed because she had a dog named “Moe” that she adored and she had also picked up a stray mama dog that had six pups and now we would have to find homes for all of them. I had to call to get a burial plot by her nana and papa that we had no idea we would need so soon. I had to ask my daughter to help me write her obituary because I wanted to remember who she was, not just what had happened to her in her final moments. I had to go with her two best friends and her cousin to pick out the perfect new dress to bury her in. I had to curl her hair one last time and place on her head a beautiful flower crown we used to cover the unforgettable wound left behind not only to her but to us who had to see it. I had to put together pictures and have my husband put together a slide show capturing her short 31 years. Those songs now echo in my head and tears still roll down my cheeks.

As I followed the hearse that carried this sweet young mother to the graveside where she would rest in peace beside her precious grandparents I couldn’t help but break down and scream at the top of my lungs “Why God? Why?” I don’t know if I’ll ever understand this controlling and conniving spirit that brings so much heartache to so many families. But I made a promise to Rachel on the day we put her in the ground that I will tell her story until the day I die and I will do my damndest to bring awareness to domestic violence and its sickening reality that plaques us all. I promise you, Rachel, Felicia and I will not be silenced by domestic violence and we will do our best to tell our stories and your story too. We love you sweetheart. May you rest in peace while we try to find ours.