June 17, 2015, started like any other humid Wednesday in Charleston. The air was thick. You know that heavy, low-country heat that sticks to your skin? People were finishing dinner or heading to mid-week services. At Mother Emanuel AME Church on Calhoun Street, a small group gathered for their regular Bible study. They were there to talk about scripture. They were there for fellowship.
Then, a 21-year-old stranger walked in. He didn't look like a threat. In fact, the congregants did what they always did—they welcomed him. They gave him a seat next to the pastor. For nearly an hour, he sat there. He listened to them pray. He watched them discuss the Bible. Then, he pulled a Glock 41 .45-caliber handgun from a fanny pack and changed the history of the South forever.
The church shooting in south carolina wasn't just another headline. It was a calculated act of domestic terrorism. Dylann Roof, the gunman, later told investigators he almost didn't go through with it because the people were so nice to him. But he did. He killed nine people in cold blood, hoping to spark a race war. Instead, he sparked a national conversation about symbols, hate, and a level of forgiveness that most of us can barely wrap our heads around.
The Night Everything Changed at Mother Emanuel
It's hard to describe the specific horror of that basement. The victims weren't just names in a report; they were the pillars of the Charleston community.
Rev. Clementa Pinckney was the first to fall. He was a state senator and a man of immense presence. Then there was Cynthia Graham Hurd, a beloved librarian. Susie Jackson, 87 years old, was the oldest victim. Her nephew, Tywanza Sanders, was only 26. He actually tried to talk Roof down before he was killed. He died trying to protect his aunt.
✨ Don't miss: Why Every Tornado Warning MN Now Live Alert Demands Your Immediate Attention
The sheer brutality is what gets people. Roof reloaded his gun seven times. He spared one woman, Polly Sheppard, specifically so she could "tell the story." That's a level of chilling intentionality you don't see often. When the news broke the next morning, the city was paralyzed. People were wandering the streets near the church, crying openly. You’ve got to understand—Mother Emanuel isn’t just any church. It’s one of the oldest Black churches in the South. It survived slavery, fires, and earthquakes. It was a symbol of resilience long before 2015.
The Victims We Lost
- Clementa C. Pinckney (41): Senior Pastor and State Senator.
- Cynthia Graham Hurd (54): Library manager and sister of former State Senator Malcolm Graham.
- Susie Jackson (87): Longtime choir member.
- Ethel Lee Lance (70): The church’s sexton.
- Depayne Middleton-Doctor (49): School administrator and pastor.
- Tywanza Sanders (26): Recent college graduate.
- Daniel L. Simmons (74): Retired pastor.
- Sharonda Coleman-Singleton (45): Track coach and speech therapist.
- Myra Thompson (59): Bible study teacher.
Why the Church Shooting in South Carolina Still Matters Today
Ten years later, the echoes are still loud. Honestly, if you look at how South Carolina reacted, it’s kinda complicated. On one hand, you had this incredible moment of unity. Two days after the murders, family members of the victims stood in a courtroom and told Dylann Roof they forgave him. "I forgive you," said Nadine Collier, whose mother, Ethel Lance, was killed. "You took something very precious from me. I will never talk to her again... but I forgive you."
That moment went viral. It was beautiful, but some family members now feel like that "forgiveness narrative" was used to avoid harder conversations about systemic racism.
There's also the matter of the Confederate flag. For decades, activists had been trying to get the battle flag removed from the South Carolina State House grounds. It took this massacre to finally move the needle. Governor Nikki Haley, flanked by Republicans and Democrats, called for its removal. By July 10, the flag was gone. It was a massive symbolic shift, but many argue that it was low-hanging fruit compared to actual policy change.
🔗 Read more: Brian Walshe Trial Date: What Really Happened with the Verdict
The "Charleston Loophole"
One of the most frustrating details of this case is the background check. Dylann Roof shouldn't have been able to buy that gun. He had a prior drug arrest that should have flagged him. However, because the FBI background check wasn't completed within three business days, the sale went through anyway. This is known as the "Charleston Loophole." Despite years of protests and legislative pushes, South Carolina has yet to fully close this loophole at the state level.
The Trial and the Reality of Death Row
Dylann Roof’s trial was... well, it was bizarre. He insisted on representing himself during the sentencing phase. He didn’t want his lawyers to present evidence about his mental health because he didn't want people to think he was "crazy." He wanted people to know he did it because he was a white supremacist.
In 2016, he was convicted on 33 federal counts, including hate crimes. He became the first person in U.S. history to be sentenced to death for a federal hate crime. Later, he pleaded guilty to state charges to avoid a second death penalty trial, resulting in nine consecutive life sentences.
Today, he sits on federal death row in Terre Haute, Indiana. He’s still filing appeals. Just recently, in 2024 and 2025, his legal team has tried to argue that he wasn't competent to stand trial. The courts haven't bought it. The legal saga feels endless for the families.
💡 You might also like: How Old is CHRR? What People Get Wrong About the Ohio State Research Giant
Moving Toward Real Change
If you're looking for what to do with this information, it’s not just about remembering the tragedy. It’s about understanding the unfinished business in South Carolina and the U.S. at large.
First, acknowledge that South Carolina is still one of only two states (along with Wyoming) without a comprehensive state-level hate crime law. There’s a bill named after Clementa Pinckney that has stalled in the state senate for years. Supporters say it’s necessary to give prosecutors more tools; opponents say it’s redundant because of federal laws.
Second, look at the memorial. There is a planned "Mother Emanuel Memorial" with a survivor’s garden and a fountain. It’s a project meant to honor the "Emanuel Nine," but fundraising and construction take time.
Steps for Actionable Engagement:
- Educate on the Legislation: Follow the progress of the "Clementa C. Pinckney Hate Crimes Act" in the South Carolina legislature.
- Support the Memorial: Research the Mother Emanuel Memorial Foundation to see how they are preserving the stories of the victims.
- Advocate for Background Check Reform: Engage with groups working to close the "Charleston Loophole" to ensure that the three-day rule doesn't allow dangerous individuals to obtain firearms.
- Local History: If you visit Charleston, visit the International African American Museum. It’s built on Gadsden’s Wharf, where thousands of enslaved people first arrived, providing essential context to why this church was targeted in the first place.
The story of the church shooting in south carolina is a story of a city that refused to break. But it's also a reminder that symbols (like flags) are easier to change than laws. The real work of honoring the Nine happens in the quiet, difficult policy meetings and the persistent fight against the ideology that led a young man to a basement in 2015.