They are among the plaintiffs who, in the cases filed in Lake County, are suing parties they say share responsibility for the mass shooting that left seven people dead: Smith & Wesson, the gunmaker; Red Dot Arms, a Lake County gun store; Bud’s Gun Shop, an online gun distributor; Robert Crimo III, who is charged with the shootings; and his father, Robert Crimo Jr., who signed the papers that allowed his son to legally buy a weapon when he was 19 years old.
The following is from their statements:
Lauren Bennett, shot twice in her hip and back and had other family members who also were wounded, said in a written statement:
“I was shot multiple times on the 4th of July. That morning, I attended the Highland Park parade with my family. This included my husband, my two youngest sons, my parents and my husband’s parents.
“To understand my ordeal, please envision a place that you feel most happy and safe and then if you can, imagine the unimaginable … because that is what we experienced that day. We’ve been attending this parade for decades, my husband, since he was a child. For those reasons — my senses were not attuned to violence but to family and celebration of this great country.
“During these first moments of the parade, literally out of the clear blue sky, I heard what sounded like how I would describe — as many firecrackers going off, but sounding more violent, more precise and with a direct aim.
“Sitting at a Fourth of July parade in Highland Park, which has always been a place of safety, I would have never imagined that the turbulent sound I heard and hail of concrete fragments and shrapnel I saw, was actually a maelstrom of bullets from a Smith and Wesson M&P15.
“Within the first few seconds, while most people were unaware what was happening, I was hit for the first time. I felt a tight shock in my back and hip, and saw my entire lower left side was bleeding. I knew right then we were under attack. At that precise moment, I assumed I was a target, and maybe I was, because when I got up to run I was hit again by another bullet that deeply cut through my upper back.
“For those who have never felt a bullet rip through your skin, let me explain how it feels. Imagine a hot metal, dart-like projectile tearing through your body at a supersonic speed, faster than the speed of sound. You’ll feel it burn through your skin, and likely you will quickly grab whatever part of your body was hit (because you know something is not right), only to feel that excessive amounts of blood draining out of you and soaking everything. At this point, you most likely feel as if you are dying, maybe wondering if this is how it all ends, I can assure you that is what I was thinking.
“It’s hard to release the words of what happened to my body because it’s so surreal. One bullet entered my lower back, right next to my spine, and exited through my hip, tearing through my body’s tissue. The other bullet deeply tore through my upper back, just like my lower back. This bullet was also a hairline from my spine.
“This one was directly behind my lungs and heart and fortunately was not a centimeter deeper, or else I would not be standing here today. Two doctors in the emergency room looked at my back in shock, amazed that I had survived what should have killed me. And in case I ever need the reminder of that day and how my body had been violated, how I almost died, I have deep bullet wound scars that will always be painted on my lower back, my hip and across my left upper back.
“We ran to survive, we ran through bullets darting all around us in every direction, we ran around and over pools of blood that engulfed the unfortunate people who would not be going home to their families that day. My husband was running with our 6-year-old and 9-year-old boys, literally for their lives, shielding them while exposing himself to the shooting bullets because we all know that their young, innocent lives are far more precious than our own.
“Those boys dodged bullets, jumped over fallen bodies, while running behind me, looking at my blood-soaked body, and they assumed their mother was probably bleeding to death. We survived in a battle zone that day, and will carry the most horrendous images with us for the rest of our lives.”
“As we’ve been healing in these following weeks, we have to come to terms with the reality that perpetual safety in the most shielded of places is nonexistent. Our experience will forever be with us, some of us physically, many of us mentally, and who knows how these injuries will manifest in days or years to come. One thing is for certain, moving forward my family and I learned on that violent and traumatic day — that we are ALL constantly in the line of fire, and until we realize this so shall we all remain.
“I also want to take a moment to express my feelings about the unbelievable series of events and decisions that led to this horrifying event.
“...My family and I are calling for full accountability for all those who contributed to the fear, the physical and emotional pain and the unthinkable nightmares that now define our lives.”
Lorena Rebollar Sedano, who was shot in the foot: “Personally, as one of the victims, it was a terrifying day, the most frightening day of [my] life.
“It will remain forever in our memories, where our lives changed completely, especially those who lost their loved ones. After that day, my life is not the same. I am afraid to go out to places where there are crowds of people, and I think that is not fair. Because of the marketing and advertising of these kinds of weapons our lives will not be the same. That is why we demand justice so that this person pays and all those responsible pay for what they did.”
Mirna Rodriguez, who was shot in her backside: “The 4th of July changed the lives of my whole family, especially my 5-year-old son.
“For him it was like his first parade, since he had only gone when he was just a baby before the pandemic. He was super excited when I told him that we were going to the parade. He asked me what’s a parade? I explained to him what we celebrate and that there was going to be candy and lots of fun stuff to see and he was super excited.
“But I did not tell him he would need to be terrified. We never expected the fear of losing one of our children or my husband’s life or maybe my own life. We didn’t know if we would make it out alive at that moment when the shooting started.
“..After the tragedy, my son doesn’t want to know anything about parades, he’s very scared and he has nightmares at night. My older children who are 19 years old and 16 years old don’t want to talk to anyone about what happened that day, they are so traumatized they prefer not to talk about it at all. I don’t know for how long the nightmares will live in our lives. That’s why we demand justice and that these types of weapons do not reach the hands of sick people like the person who did this to us.”
Michael Zeifert, who was shot in the chest:
“My family’s experience is just one of many; the whole community has, and will continue to be, impacted by this horrific event. I feel extremely grateful that my family and I are all still here today, and that we have each other to help us deal with the aftermath of this event.
“I empathize with all the individuals impacted by mass shootings, and especially with the families whose loved ones were lost. As a community, I am hopeful that some good can come from this and that we as a society can work together to prevent future mass shootings.
“On July Fourth, my wife, my four young children and I attended the Highland Park parade with the anticipation of a fun-filled day of watching the parade procession and in participating in various celebratory activities at Sunset Park. Unfortunately, a little after 10 that morning, my family and I experienced gun violence in what is seemingly an increasing trend in our country. A gunman, for reasons unknown to me, decided to open fire on the parade crowd, a group of innocent people, who had gathered together to celebrate our nation’s independence as a community.
“...In the immediate aftermath of this event and even today, my family and I are trying to process and accept the impact this event had on all of us; we are striving to figure out how to positively move forward. As it relates to physical trauma, I was shot in the chest during the shooting, but fortunately received medical attention quickly. On the mental and emotional side, the impacts have been more severe and life-changing.
“My family’s sense of safety has been forever compromised.”
As a parent, what I once thought to be impossible fears of my children are now our reality. My children’s fears need to be addressed and acknowledged on a daily basis. They ask questions I cannot answer. My children want to know why someone would shoot people watching a parade. As I put my children to bed, I receive questions on if they could be shot while they sleep? Or whether that loud noise is another gunman? These types of questions are now the norms in our lives.
“My wife saw me, her husband, get shot, covered in blood, and bleeding from the chest. She saw the flash of the muzzle, and the gunman firing rounds into the crowd. She was put in the difficult position of seeing me injured and our children in the line of the shooter’s bullets. For myself, recovering from my physical injuries has been more straightforward than the mental side. I have vivid memories of being shot, of trying to cover and protect my children while gun fire is raining down all around us. I am haunted by the still present helpless feeling of how to protect my family from gun violence in the future.
“...As my family and I move forward, we have begun the process of accepting our new reality and how our lives will forever be changed by this tragedy. As part of our recovery, we feel it is appropriate to hold accountable the actions of others that enabled the gunman to carry out this senseless act. More importantly, we are advocating that we as a society need to take additional steps to prevent and limit the amount of destruction a gunman can cause at any one time.”
“As I now know firsthand, the damage gun violence can cause to a family or a community is so much greater than just the physical toll. I am hopeful that something good can come from this tragic event and that it can lead to positive actions or changes around gun violence.”
Amelia Tenorio, who was shot in the back of a thigh and whose son was shot in a leg:
“The Fourth of July was a day we used to go to the parade every year as a family. This year, just as we all left home happy to see it one more time, without imagining the tragedy that we had to live through.
“It was very terrifying for me to see my 11-year-old son, injured in his leg, crying. He asked me what I had done to him, what had happened to him. At that time I was just hugging him to keep him calm. Before the tragedy our life was calm.
“We went for a walk in the afternoons, we went out to the park without fear that something bad would happen to us; after that day nothing is the same.
“...Now we live with fear and with the trauma that we have left. That is why we demand that justice be done and that they stop marketing and advertising these kinds of weapons to people who harm innocent people.”
Silvia Vergara, who was shot in the leg:
“What I thought was going to be the first Fourth of July that I had all my daughters together changed in an instant. It was not the Fourth of July we had hoped.
“Now we have to go through life with trauma and fear. The thought of going out in public is a big challenge for us due to the fear that it could happen again.
“The sound of fireworks, screams or big bangs put us into a state of panic and fear. Those occurrences bring back memories of that day. Not only do we have to face that challenge, but I also have to ensure that my daughters and grandkids understand that everything is going to be okay, we will get through this together.
“...God has given us a second chance, and we are here to make sure that justice is served. This horrific event not only damaged my family, it damaged the whole community, we have to make sure that this doesn’t happen again.”
Leah Sundheim, the daughter of Jacki Sundheim, who was shot and killed:
“Before July 4th, if asked to speak about my mom, I would have answered with a casual smile and a simple, ‘She’s the best.’ If I was feeling poetic I would have said that when I think of her it fills me with a comfort similar to a kitchen still warm from a freshly baked pie. After July 4th this does not feel like enough. How do you accurately describe years of love and safety? How do you begin to weave thousands of moments, the tiniest of details into a larger image? How do you properly share the feeling of being rocked to sleep, the joy of dancing around the living room, and the years of conversations?
“For 28 years I lived in a world, certain that no matter what happens my mom is just a phone call away. After the phone rang on July 4th and my dad had to tell me that my mom went to the parade, that she was shot, that she was dead. My life is now broken into a before and an after.
“On July 8th I spoke words I should never have had to say at my mother’s memorial service. These words came easily to me. Words that I wrote as I flew back to a home I no longer recognized. I typed them up sitting next to a stranger as tears ran down my face and I fought to take my next breath. But the words flowed easily in that moment. I was able to summarize in the shock what I was feeling and what I wanted myself, my dad, and my community to feel. Just like it was easy to say those words in front of hundreds of people on July 8, just 4 days after our lives had forever changed.
“Now it is harder, it is so much harder to write down how empty I feel. It is much harder to acknowledge and face that this After is my new normal, because the world does not stop, not for anyone or anything. The world can slow for a moment, but that moment is different for everyone.
“For some it is just a momentary pause, a brief second to read the headline of another mass shooting, for others this moment is a few days of funerals and shiva, and for some it is weeks of crying, of missing work and other activities. But for me, for my dad, it is a seemingly endless moment of after, that is now our new world.
“...I will spend the rest of my life trying to weave the before into the after. To never forget her laugh, to fill a new home with warmth and love, to keep her memory alive.
“But I hope that this after takes on a new meaning. I hope that after this time it is different. I need this time to be different.
“I need there to be accountability for those that allowed this tragedy to take place. I need there to be some form of justice for my mom’s senseless violent death. I need to know that after this time something will change.”
Bruce Sundheim, Jacki Sundheim’s husband:
“On July 4th my world was shattered. Jacki my wife of 31 years was senselessly murdered along with 6 other souls and scores of wounded. I was not with her that day, I had decided to work the holiday instead. It is a decision that I will regret for the rest of my life.
“Jacki loved the 4th of July, she loved parades, she loved fireworks, she loved Highland Park and our country. She loved parades so much that she was hoping to go to the Deerfield parade later that afternoon.
“I was unaware of the events occurring just a short mile away. I received a phone call from Jacki’s sister who was sitting next to her. Jacki’s been shot I was told. How could she be shot, I asked. A lot of people have been shot was the response. It was then I realized that the nightmare of another mass shooting had crashed into our community and our lives.
“I did not personally experience the terror of those present or the horror of the scene. As I raced to get to her, I was blocked as it was an active crime scene.
“Waiting with officers, the phone calls began, first her sister informed me that she had died. Rather than have her find out from another I had to make the worst call of my life, informing my daughter that her mom had been killed. As I waited in agony my phone started to ring. All my wife’s close friends, having heard the news and unable to reach her, called me. I shared their grief again and again as my phone continued to ring.
“It is incomprehensible to me that someone could just decide to try and kill a large group of random people. I find it hard to wrap my brain around the amount of wanton hate and pure evil that would drive someone to do this. Unfortunately, this seems to be repeated with a horrifying regularity.
“I have always supported the constitution and with it the second amendment.
“I understand its purpose and can see the point of view of both sides on gun ownership.
“If people were rational, responsible, and guided by a moral code I would continue to support it.
“The fact that an untrained individual with a troubled history, along with public statements of violent intentions can buy a weapon, shoot 80+ rounds hitting dozens of people tells me that despite the right, this situation is untenable. There needs to be a check on corporations that market these weapons to the public knowing a portion of the public is capable of this type of horror.”
“There must be accountability from all of us to see that the sanctity of life is protected and celebrated.”
Liz Turnipseed was wounded when a bullet ripped through her pelvis:
“Every night, before I go to bed, I re-live the same memory from that day. It’s the moment I’m shot. I remember the sonic boom from the bullet hitting my body and then being thrown to the ground.
“I remember looking up and seeing my daughter’s stroller knocked down on its side and immediately terrified that my baby was shot as well. Of all the pain and the fear and the carnage of that day, the memory that haunts me the most, every day, is that I may have lost my beautiful baby.
“Seeing my husband covering her with his body, we both knew that even though I was shot, the most important thing was to keep her safe. Thank God, he did that. He kept her safe. And we are filing today for her and so that we can hopefully help to stop more families from having to experience that.”
Jon Straus and Peter Straus, sons of Stephen Straus, who was was shot and killed:
“The evening of July 3rd my family and I had been out to dinner with my parents, and my dad mentioned that he would be attending the 4th of July parade in Highland Park, as he had for decades. This was the same parade he had taken us to as kids and a fun tradition he still enjoyed and wouldn’t think of missing, even at the age of 88. Naturally I thought nothing of it and wished him a good time.
“The following morning my brother and I heard about shots fired at the parade, and like most people we thought, “That’s terrible, but it could never happen to us.” But we still needed to hear my dad’s voice to know that he was OK, so we called his cell phone again, and again, and again.
“No answer. Panic quickly set in and it was a terrifying wait for some sign that he had escaped the horror that was unfolding on the streets of our home town. Since I (Jon) am the one who lives in Chicago (my brother is in California,) I hurried up to my parents’ house in Highland Park.
“Halfway there on the expressway, a call from the Highland Park Hospital E.R. flashed on my phone screen, and my body flooded with a sickening feeling of dread. The voice on the other end identified himself as a physician at the hospital. ‘Is he OK?’ I gasped. No, he was not. Our father was one of the victims. He was gone.
“There are no words that can truly convey the trauma of having a loved one stolen from you; violently snatched away, with no rhyme or reason, never to return. There would never be a goodbye hug or kiss. There would be no opportunity to thank him for all the love and support he showered on us over the years. There would be no more jokes, laughs, or conversations. Our dad had been stolen from us and we would never get him back.
“The bullets that ended our father’s long life also forever altered the path of our family. Now, we would share the unwelcome distinction of being yet another American family shattered by random gun violence. Now, we must forever carry the burden of being one more in a growing number of “unlucky ones” who crossed the path of a deranged, angry, and soulless killer who felt the need to make a “name” for himself, to be written in the blood of his innocent victims. That our family’s name will be forever associated with his is also a part of this bleak, ongoing horror story.
“We stand here today because of a growing cancer in the fabric of American life that threatens us all, where desperate lost souls can easily outfit themselves with military-grade weapons and impulsively wreak havoc on their communities in a matter of seconds, turning a joyful celebration into carnage. In the aftermath, the pain, loss and grief that we must endure is never ending. This time it was our family, next time it could be yours. If our father wasn’t safe attending an ordinary hometown celebration of American values, none of us are safe or ever will be.”
