July Fourth parade mass shooting survivors remember victims as gunman skips sentencing hearing

WAUKEGAN, Ill. — Survivors recounted the horror a gunman caused when he fired dozens of bullets at a 2022 Independence Day parade in suburban Chicago, detailing during a sentencing hearing for the man on Wednesday how they fled, hid inside businesses or treated the wounded packed into an emergency room.

But the gunman who killed seven people and injured dozens more didn't hear any of it.

Robert E. Crimo III, 24, refused to appear in court or watch from jail, authorities said.

Crimo pleaded guilty last month, an abrupt reversal moments before his trial was set to begin after years of unpredictable legal proceedings.

His absence didn't stop some survivors or family members of the dead from addressing him in statements detailing their physical or emotional pain since the attack. Some described feeling empty or deeply sad; others said they now fear public gatherings. But most used their time simply to remember the people killed.

''You took my mom,'' said Leah Sundheim, the only child of Jacquelyn Sundheim. ''I will never be able to summarize how simply extraordinary she was, and how devastating and out of balance my life is without her.''

Prosecutors also presented evidence including parts of a lengthy videotaped confession during the Lake County courthouse hearing, which is scheduled to resume Thursday.

''It went from watching a parade to utter chaos,'' testified Dana Ruder Ring, who escaped with her husband and three kids. ''We just had to keep going. We just knew that staying still was not a safe idea, and we were terrified.''

Her husband frantically searched for the parents of a child covered in blood while seeing ''bodies still smoking on the ground,'' Ruder Ring said.

She learned later that the boy's parents, Kevin McCarthy, 37, and Irina McCarthy, 35, had been killed.

Shooter's confession revealed

In a recording of his confession, which defense attorneys tried to have thrown out, a blank-faced Crimo slumped in a chair, his arms crossed, as he said he briefly reconsidered the attack because of a problem with the gun, but he fixed the weapon.

''I walked up the stairs, jumped on the roof and opened fire,'' he said.

Crimo was calm and cavalier, even laughing and joking, said Brian Bodden, a Highland Park police officer.

''He was never serious, no remorse,'' Bodden testified, adding that Crimo was clear that he intended to kill people. He said Crimo had planned the shooting for years.

Crimo said he tried to avoid children, but it was impossible in the crowd. He gave a cryptic reason for the attack, saying he felt like a sleepwalker.

''I don't even think I really wanted to," he said.

A celebration turned horrific

Prosecutors recreated the horror of the day for the upscale community of about 30,000 people north of Chicago.

In one video, a marching band played ''You're a Grand Old Flag'' before shots were fired. Musicians carrying instruments ran as emergency sirens blared, fleeing along with other attendees.

Many cried during the testimony, while others put their arms around each other.

Retired Highland Park Police Commander Gerry Cameron said he ran toward what sounded like fireworks or a car backfiring when he saw people hurt and others fleeing. He described later helping people who were hiding in businesses.

''They were reluctant to come out," he said. ''They were horrified.''

Crimo fired from a roof, leaving behind 83 shell casings, authorities said.

Emergency room Dr. Jeremy Smiley escaped the parade while carrying his daughter, got his family to safety and went to the hospital.

''The number of shots, it was just clear that whatever this was, it was going to be bad,'' he said in court.

He described caring for a child, later identified as the youngest victim, Cooper Roberts, as injured people filled emergency room beds and lined the hallways. Other doctors kept showing up to help.

Meanwhile, authorities collected evidence in the deserted downtown. Bodies were covered in tarps.

''It was pretty eerie, almost postapocalyptic," testified Marc Recca of the FBI.

Victims and relatives speak

Crimo injured 48 people and killed seven, including the McCarthys and Sundheim; Katherine Goldstein, 64; Stephen Straus, 88; Nicolas Toledo-Zaragoza, 78; and Eduardo Uvaldo, 69.

Some survivors described how they now hate loud noises or are paranoid, scanning for threats around them.

Keely Roberts, whose 8-year-old son Cooper Roberts is paralyzed from the waist down, called Crimo ''cowardly'' for not attending.

''You will not get my sad stories," she said. ''You have no power over my life.''

John Straus, the son of Stephen Straus, said the shooting haunts him.

''There's no closure, no sense to be made of it,'' Straus said. ''It is an open wound in our hearts that we will have to nurse forever.''

Sheila Gutman was shot in the foot and described her intense recovery, including numerous surgeries.

''The aftermath inflicts a second wound that continues to bleed, a second kind of violence,'' she said in court.

A life sentenc

e is certain

Crimo will be sentenced for 21 counts of first-degree murder — three counts for each person killed — and 48 counts of attempted murder. Each first-degree murder count carries a maximum life sentence in Illinois.

The case has moved slowly, in part because Crimo backed out of a plea deal, fired his public defenders and reversed his decision to represent himself. He signed his name and Donald Trump's when he waived his right to trial.

Crimo has previously skipped court, including parts of jury selection, despite a judge's warnings that the case would still move forward. Several survivors separately have sued Crimo and gunmaker Smith & Wesson.

Crimo's parents attended most court proceedings but were absent Wednesday. Robert Crimo Jr., who served less than two months in jail for charges in connection to how his son obtained a gun license, declined to comment Wednesday.

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This story has been corrected to show that Cameron described clearing people who were hiding, not Conway.