Violence in America 2025: Statistics, Stories, and Sentencing

Chukwuka

Welcome back to The New Sentinel, folks. Today, we’re diving deep—real deep—into the American violence numbers for 2025. It isn’t an easy conversation, but it’s one that, honestly, just needs to be had. Look, according to CDC data, we had 46,728 total gun deaths across the U.S. last year. That's a staggering number, and, yeah, nearly six out of ten—58%—were suicides. Another 38% were homicides. And you got 341 mass shootings this year, which left 331 people dead and almost fifteen hundred injured. Just imagine that for a second, yeah?

Duke Johnson

You know, Chukwuka—every year I think "can't get worse," but then you see the raw operational data and it's like, "Roger that, it's still bad." These gun stats don’t even touch the frequency of mass shootings. From a boots perspective, 341 mass shooting incidents is basically one a day, more or less. Makes you wonder if we’ve—if we’ve normalized living in combat zones at home. Not to be overly blunt, but most Americans just scroll past this stuff. They see the numbers but it doesn’t click.

Olga Ivanova - Female, Progressive

And think about the stories behind those numbers. Gun violence is just one type, but fatal beatings and stabbings are still happening at terrifying rates. October saw death penalty cases involving beating-related homicides—these aren’t abstract stats; real lives are snuffed out. And then you have cases like the Charlotte train stabbing. Iryna Zarutska, a 23-year-old Ukrainian refugee—she’s lost, her family destroyed. Every one of those is a story of displacement, of trauma. And we have to confront the human face behind all these headlines.

Major Ethan “Sentinel” Graves

You said a mouthful, Olga. It's the kind of stuff you see on the news every night and—unfortunately—sometimes at work. I’ll tell you, there was a domestic I responded to not that long ago. House looked calm from the outside, but behind that door it was a completely different situation. The numbers you’re citing—they’re more than stats on a spreadsheet. They're a reality check. Most tragic thing? Families get shattered in under thirty seconds. It's the numbers we never want to see, but they're part of the story whether we like it or not.

Chukwuka

Yeah, Ethan, I remember wrestling with these same thoughts even when I was serving. That cold compendium of statistics—behind every one is chaos, loss, grief, something you can't shrug off. And yet, as a country, here we are. We get the mass shootings, the stabbings, these penal sentences that sort of try and answer the loss, but you can’t measure pain with that. It's like the numbers keep stacking, and the solutions seem further away.

Duke Johnson

Right, and don’t forget—the operational tempo for first responders dealing with this, it’s insane. The hardest part is when these aren’t “face in the crowd” crimes, but someone’s ex, or mom, or neighbor suddenly turning into a statistic. Feels like we’re always one step behind the next tragedy.

Major Ethan “Sentinel” Graves

Alright, so, let’s talk about the “justice” part. This year wasn’t just about numbers—some notorious cases and pretty much record-breaking sentences. Take James Holmes, the Aurora shooter. He got twelve consecutive life sentences, plus, what, over three thousand years—3,318 years to be exact. No chance of parole. Judge said it’s so he “never sets foot in free society again.” If you ask me, it’s meant to send a message. But whether that message lands with people who’d do these crimes—honestly, I’m not sure.

Olga Ivanova - Female, Progressive

It’s a performance for society in some ways, right? Think about Daryl Brooks Jr., who killed six people at the Waukesha Christmas parade. Six life terms, seven hundred sixty-three extra years tacked on. Or George Wagner IV and the Pike County massacre—eight consecutive life sentences, no parole, and still the families mourn. The system stacks these sentences so high, like they’re trying to fill the hole these crimes create. But for the people left behind, it’s their whole world that’s just collapsed. No number is going to undo their loss.

Duke Johnson

I get what you're saying, Olga. But in my view, these heavy sentences—they're a force multiplier. Old-school deterrence. You hand out three thousand years, it’s making a target outta anyone who wants to try the same thing. But, at the same time, I’ll be real—it’s unclear if your garden-variety bad guy is even thinking about the justice system at that point. When you’re moving with intent to hurt, you ain’t calculating years, you’re just rolling hot.

Chukwuka

Duke, that's spot on. When I’m listening to arguments in court, or even fools trying to justify 100-year sentences as making a difference, I get conflicted. Yeah, the law needs to act. But some of these sentences, like Pebbley’s 736 years for firing on cops, or that Wagner case, seem more symbolic than effective. Maybe it tells the public "we care," but the pain's already out there, rippling on. Only thing I know is, if these atrocities shake a community, the justice process tries to shake back.

Major Ethan “Sentinel” Graves

Exactly. And sometimes, amidst the headlines, you get wild scenes in the courtroom—like Brooks representing himself, acting out, making his own trial a circus. But at the end of the day, courts hit 'em as hard as possible: sentences stacked like sandbags. Whether or not it brings closure, that’s a different debate. Sometimes I wonder, are we locking 'em up for the next criminal, or just to show the survivors that something’s being done?

Olga Ivanova - Female, Progressive

Major, you hit the nail on the head. And, remember, for every criminal facing a literal mountain of years, there are families reading their victim statements to a silent courtroom—telling stories about stolen fathers, daughters, and ordinary lives. No verdict, no sentence, will bring those people back. But for many, the length of these sentences is the only tool they have to say, "This will never be enough, but something was done."

Olga Ivanova - Female, Progressive

Let’s not overlook what’s often invisible: the long shadow these crimes cast on survivors, especially when mental health comes up. Look, Scott Kologi—16-year-old boy who killed his whole family in New Jersey—his defense centered on mental illness. James Holmes’s team said the same: he was mentally ill, “not wicked but sick.” Courts are skeptical, but the suffering is real, both for offenders and the ones left to pick up the pieces. It’s tragedy all the way down.

Chukwuka

Olga, that’s one thing the headlines rarely get right. As someone who’s lost too many friends in war and after, I see a number on a spreadsheet—like “four dead,” “twelve injured”—and I know those people had mothers, siblings, kids left behind. The sentences may be high, but for those families? There is no number high enough to replace that missing loved one. They’re left reliving the pain every day—no matter what the court says. And the trauma now, it ripples through generations.

Major Ethan “Sentinel” Graves

Yeah, it's not just about the defendant or the victim—it's a circle of hurt that spreads. I can still hear moms and dads, even years later, talking about what’s gone missing from their lives. You get up there for a victim impact statement, and you realize—no sentence fixes the empty seat at the dinner table. There’s a silence nobody knows what to do with.

Duke Johnson

Concur with that, Major. And from the frontlines, I can tell you—the ripple effects from this violence? It’s like an IED: unpredictable, lingering damage. The system tries to measure justice with years or even centuries, but none of that patches up families, you know? The only real counter measure is getting ahead of the mental health crisis that comes as both cause and effect. We're playing catch-up, always. We need to start earlier—real early. Not after the blast.

Olga Ivanova - Female, Progressive

You’re right, Duke. We’ve seen so many cases lately—like that tragic Charlotte train stabbing—where the mental health warning signs were dismissed or ignored. Then the system waits until it’s too late, and what’s left but punishment and shattered families? It’s a vicious cycle, and honestly, until we address the roots, this conversation will happen every year.

Chukwuka

Well, we’ve come full circle, haven’t we? Just look at the numbers, the notorious sentences, and—you know—even with all that, the most important thing is the lives behind the stats. Justice matters, but so does community, and so does real support for the families and the wounded survivors. We’ll try to keep that front and center in future episodes, so stick with us, yeah?

Major Ethan “Sentinel” Graves

That’s right, Chukwuka. Folks, thanks for joining us. If you made it this far, keep the victims in your thoughts, and don’t be afraid to have the tough conversations. This isn’t going away, but maybe, just maybe, we can do better moving forward. Appreciate y’all.

Olga Ivanova - Female, Progressive

Thanks everyone—let's not forget that behind all the headlines, there’s always another family struggling to heal. Talk soon, and let’s keep working for something better.

Duke Johnson

Copy that. Bless up and stay sharp, squad. We'll see you downrange on the next one.

Chukwuka

Alright, team. Until next time, this is The New Sentinel. Take care and good night all.