My husband woke me at 5 am. His face was crumpled, and he calmly said, “I have some really sad news.”

I jumped out of bed and grabbed my phone. I had so many voicemails and missed texts, all from national news outlets. I replied to my AP editor and rushed to gather my gear and urged my brain to slow down.

I made it to the Strip with my gear just as the sun was rising. I ran into a colleague, a writer, we were speechless. This image I shot, is the first thing I spotted as I approached the scene. These are the curtains flapping in a light, beautiful breeze from the shooter’s windows looking down upon the concert venue. Chills ran through my body. I know what he saw; I was positioned on top of Mandalay Bay one week prior, photographing down on the same lot for a different music festival. I was shooting. With a long lens.

Blood was on the sidewalks, young country fans were emerging from nearby hotels, hiding spaces, that kept them safe through the evening. They were wearing hotel towels, their faces tear streaked and exhausted. Some were missing shoes.

It is a scene that will stay with me the rest of my life. Surprisingly, of all the local photographers and friends I have worked with for over two decades, only one was at the concert that night. His coverage is incredible, brave and intense.

Eventually, I had to file and was sitting in a hallway in the Luxor quickly downloading images. Suddenly, SWAT ran past me, the casino music stopped and an emergency call went over the speakers telling guests to immediately take shelter in their room or exit the building. I grabbed my computer, leaving my gear, and ran. Was it happening again? I don’t want to be the news I cover. I ended up in a maintenance area near the pool with casino guests and workers. In the beginning hours of tragedy, not a lot is known. This time, we were lucky. It was a false alarm. Everyone was on high alert.

It has been 8 years, somehow, and we still have a uniquely American gun problem. I’ve only covered more shootings. Seen a man march near me at a BLM protest all evening get shot and killed. Raced to a locked-down university campus, displaced students crying on phones looking for their friends and parents. They found out three faculty members were shot and killed.

I hope you never have to endure what my community endured or see the things I saw that day. Statistically, gun violence has probably affected you in some way. After all, you live in America.

Photographer‘s note: These are my own words and experience, and I am not an employee of AP. Thank you to everyone who checked on me that day. There were many of you, and it meant a lot.