June 22, 2020, is a day that replays in Lakeshia Finch’s mind relentlessly. Along with the horrific, life-changing memory of that day is regret and questions.
What if she had just gone home and not stopped by the Applebee’s in St. John’s for dinner with a friend?
What if they had paid more attention to the strange acting young man who glared at them menacingly?
What if they had asked him something?
Would he still have pulled out a gun and randomly started shooting at innocent customers?
The questions are, no doubt, unanswerable but, today, five years to the month of that tragedy, Finch is still struggling, still grappling with trauma, mental and physical pain, recovery, doubt, forgiveness and an overpowering sense of injustice.
But she added bravely, “I’m working on it.”
Finch had been an avid athlete since her days at Rockwood Summit High School and later at Abilene Christian University in Texas where she attended on a full track & field scholarship and set multiple records. Before the shooting, she played and won several championships as part of the local “Untouchables” women’s kickball team.
She was supposed to meet a few team members in St. Ann, but the meeting was cancelled at the last minute due to heavy rain. So, she and her good friend Kimberly Ratliffe-Penton decided to have dinner at the nearby Applebee’s.
They had finished their meal and were waiting for the check. Finch was standing behind Kimberly looking over her shoulder at a video on her phone. She felt a tap on her left shoulder and assumed she was blocking someone trying to pass. Finch started to say, “Oh, excuse me…” but was silenced by a sudden hot thud to the back of her neck.
Everything from that moment on seemed like a slow-motion, out-of-body experience, she recalled. Her hearing suddenly stopped. She felt her body twist and fall with her left arm flinging awkwardly in the air. Lying on the floor, she saw her friend slump over in the booth. When her hearing returned, she heard: “he’s still shooting,” “he’s still in here,” and other screams from panicked customers and staff members.
Not knowing where the shooter was, Finch had the wherewithal to pretend like she was dead, daring not to move or make any noise. After a few agonizingly long moments, EMT workers came to her aid. Finch, who never lost consciousness, watched as they pronounced her dear friend, Kimberly, dead. Once she was in the ambulance, she said burning hot, excruciating pain enveloped her entire body.
Police identified the shooter as Courtney Demond Washington, 28 at the time, a St. Ann resident who had eaten at the restaurant prior to the shooting. They said he left and for some reason returned moments later with a gun. He wounded Finch and another woman, Arlydia Bufford, a Kinloch firefighter and killed Ratliffe-Penton.
Washington, who quickly left the scene, was immediately apprehended, arrested and charged with six counts of murder in the first degree, two counts of assault, and three counts of armed criminal action.
His trial, according to the St. Louis County Prosecutor’s office, is set for January 2026.
Finch, however, was not impressed by that news.
“I’m not going to hold my breath,” she responded curtly. “I can’t tell you how many times I was told it would be scheduled or they’re ready to prosecute or his side isn’t ready. Basically, I have no faith in our system at all. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
That response speaks to only part of Finch’s frustration. She wonders if being carried out by EMT workers by hand instead of being stabilized on a gurney first worsened her condition. She said the doctor, who bluntly told her she’d be permanently paralyzed from the neck down and abruptly walked out of the room, lacked “bedside manners” and responded in a cold, inhumane manner.
Ultimately, she feels let down by multiple “systems,” including the restaurant, she said, that reopened a few days later as if a deadly tragedy hadn’t occurred on its premises.
Still, Finch is working hard to find peace of mind and repair her broken spirit.
She stands by her decision to have immediately forgiven the shooter.
“Honestly, I don’t know why,” Finch admitted, “It just wasn’t in my heart to hate him. If I put so much into that or wishing the worst for him, it would take away from me. I can’t let him take my power. He’s already taken enough from me, so why give him that, too?”
The bullet that entered the back of Finch’s neck exited from her chest causing severe spinal damage in the C7-T1 area, with fragments of her spine penetrating the spinal column.
But Finch managed to defy the doctor’s prediction of permanent full-body paralysis. She is paralyzed from the mid-torso down but thanks to a friend who recommended NeuroFit360, a Florida facility that specializes in “neurorehabilitation” and physical and occupational therapy, Finch said she’s regained much of her upper-body strength. I feel like I’m getting stronger everyday,” she said. “I don’t need to have people feeding me or brushing my teeth anymore,” she said. “I’ve learned to do things for myself … but it comes with continuous, gruesome work.”
That “continuous work” includes trying to deal with trauma and depression.
“I have triggers,” Finch admitted. “I get fidgety in crowded places; I’m always looking around and I never sit with my back to the door. I used to love popping bubble wrap, but I can’t do that anymore … it’s just all these constant reminders.”
Asked if she’d like to meet with her shooter, Finch hesitantly answered “yes,” just to ask “why” or where was his family when he was having obvious mental health issues.
“I want to know what the narrative was amongst them. I’m still curious about all of that.”
But she also fears the possible negative results of a face-to-face meeting.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Finch admitted, fighting back tears. “As much as I want to hear those answers, it might also be a major setback for me. Basically, because I’m still trying to move forward.”
As she works to repair her body, Finch also wants to find a comfortable place for her mind and spirit. She said five years with “no justice” is weighing on her. Returning to therapy might help but she insists the practitioner must be the “right fit” this time.
Finch started a nonprofit, the “Finchstrong Foundation.” Its purpose, she said, is to provide hope, support and resources that empower victims of gun violence. The organization gives her a much-needed boost but, she said, it’s still not enough.
“Everyone tells me I look good and I’m strong, but I don’t feel like it,” Finch said. “I don’t see all that because I’m still not there yet … I still feel stuck.
“But I’m working on it … I’m moving forward the best I can.”
Sylvester Brown Jr. is the Deaconess Foundation Community Advocacy Fellow.