Grand Blanc, Mich. — On Sunday morning, worshipers gathered in the soft light of the sanctuary at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had no idea how close grief would follow them home. Within minutes, a man drove a truck into the building, opened fire, and set the chapel ablaze. By day’s end, at least four people were dead, eight wounded, and a community was left to reckon with the unspeakable. But amid the shock, attention has turned to a Facebook post made just a day earlier by the suspect’s mother — a raw and haunting message about emotional exhaustion, manipulation, and protection of one’s peace.
The suspect has been identified as Thomas Jacob “Jake” Sanford, 40, of nearby Burton. Officials say he rammed his silver Chevrolet Silverado into the church around 10:25 a.m., emerged with a semi-automatic rifle, opened fire on parishioners, and then ignited the sanctuary with gasoline or a similar accelerant. As flames engulfed the building, two responding officers exchanged gunfire and fatally shot him by about 10:33 a.m.
The casualty count changed as investigators combed through the rubble. Initially reported as two dead and eight wounded, officials later confirmed that four people died — two from gunshot wounds, two likely overtaken by the fire — and others remain unaccounted for amid the charred remains. Many of those injured were children or elderly; one among the wounded remains in critical condition.
Witnesses described pandemonium. One congregant said the doors blew open first, then gunfire followed as people fled. Another recalled that early on, some assumed someone had accidentally crashed into the building—until the full horror erupted. Amid the chaos, congregants helped load the wounded into cars, others ran into hiding spaces. Some are still missing.
In the days since, investigators have uncovered improvised explosive devices at the scene and in the truck used to ram the church, as well as evidence suggesting the fire was deliberately set. Whether those devices were intended to be deployed remains unclear. Authorities are also probing Sanford’s home in Burton and combing through digital records to find a motive.
Amid all this, a post made just a day before by Brenda Walters-Sanford, the suspect’s mother, has drawn sharp and sorrowful attention. In a candid, emotionally charged message she voiced frustration over someone in her life who deflected responsibility, twisted conversations, and played the victim — lines that many now see as pointing to her son. Though she didn’t name him, the resonance is chilling:
> “People lack accountability, then say, ‘You could’ve talked to me.’ No, I couldn’t. You don’t listen. You deflect. You twist everything into an attack … I can’t—and I won’t—invest my emotional energy in someone who consistently prioritizes winning over understanding … control over empathy … excuses over responsibility.”
Alongside that post, her profile carried happier images: family celebrations, snapshots of her son, his wife, and their young child. Yet the sharpness and distress of the Saturday post stood in stark contrast, especially as hours later the world would reel from his actions. The timing has now become part of the sorrow — was it a silent alarm, a final plea, or a sign of a fracture too deep to heal?
Sanford was a veteran of the U.S. Marines, serving from 2004 to 2008, with deployment in Iraq. He rose to the rank of sergeant and specialized in vehicle and tactical systems. A photo on his mother’s Facebook appears to show the same truck used in the attack—complete with American flags and the word “Iraq” on the license plate. The Sanfords had a son born with a rare genetic condition, and in 2015 a GoFundMe campaign was organized to help with medical costs.
So far, no formal motive has been confirmed. The FBI, ATF, and local law enforcement are collaborating in what’s being treated as targeted violence, and searches of Sanford’s home and devices continue. As the small community of Grand Blanc grieves, questions swirl: Did that social media cry speak prophecy? Was it ignored? And what more signs were there that tragedy awaited?
This week, Sunday — a day meant for solace and faith — bears a heavy sorrow: souls lost, survivors scarred, and a community left questioning what lies between an anguished post and a house of worship turned battleground.