Bullet holes in tinted glass.
An abandoned silver Mustang and the mangled remains of a green gate.
Police officers crouched behind patrol cars, guns raised.
FBI agents stepping between yellow evidence cones.
Bowed heads, hands clasped tight.
A mother, weeping on her knees among small American flags and white crosses.
Hundreds of people standing shoulder to shoulder along the road, a sea of red, white and blue.
Five caskets.
Five men lost.
July 16, 2015, is seared into Chattanooga's memory.
The terrorist attack left scars here; left families fatherless, a community hurting. But in the year since, signs of healing rose, too – memorials, murals, statues, flags. The city vowed to be stronger.
Chattanooga is not the same.
The memory of that day, of those men, of the fear and pain, the hope and love, is still fresh.
Chattanooga will not forget July 16, 2015.
And today, we remember.
