At least 200 mourners came to the Humphreys county courthouse at twilight on Sunday to mourn the 16 people killed in an explosion at a nearby munitions plant in middle Tennessee early on Friday.
Humphreys county sheriff Chris Davis said that even in these nightmarish days, “the true strength of our county is our people”.
“When tragedy hits, our people always come out,” he said through tears.
He urged the local community to show up for their neighbors who lost friends and family members in the explosion that leveled a building at the Accurate Energetic Systems (AES) headquarters in nearby Bucksnort, Tennessee and flung debris two miles away. “Help fill the void of that lost loved one with your love,” he said. “Let’s take time to wrap our arms around these families.”
Attendees passed a flame among white candlesticks until the courthouse lawn was filled with soft light. Musicians played Christian worship songs and classic hymns, and community members sang along softly.
The Tennessee governor, Bill Lee, visited with families and flew over the site to survey the damage. “It’s kind of what Tennesseans do: they surround themselves in the times of greatest challenge,” Lee said. “The losses are staggering.”
The cause of the explosion has not been identified, and authorities have not ruled out foul play. Authorities have not released the names of the victims, but they have spoken with the families of all 16 workers who are assumed deceased, and they have confirmed that the operation has shifted from rescue to recovery. Teams at the site are using rapid DNA technology in an effort to identify the remains of the dead.
In a press conference Friday afternoon, a reporter asked Davis to describe the site. “Can I describe the building? There’s nothing to describe, it’s gone,” he said. “It’s the most devastating scene that I’ve seen in my career.”
Some churches in the area cancelled their usual assemblies this morning, opting instead for intimate prayer services to lift up the victims and their families. One small church was full to standing room only. White folding chairs were brought out from the back to accommodate the overflow of guests.
Chairs ringed the assistant preacher, full of red-eyed congregants. He stood before a simple altar that held a cross and two lit candlesticks. He didn’t use a microphone; he didn’t need one. The sanctuary was silent, except for the sounds of sniffles and the occasional broken sob. People passed around boxes of tissues and fussy babies, and held onto one another. A few people in blue shirts from Billy Graham Ministries were on hand for any mourners who wanted to talk or pray after the service.
After the service, a man who knew one of the deceased said he had never been to the church before, but he thought it was usually a very small congregation.
On Sunday morning, an estimated 150 to 200 people were in attendance.
As congregants began to wander outside, volunteers folded the white chairs back up and carried them into the back room. Two women, weeping, hugged. “We’ll see him again someday,” one told the other.
