In the heart of Louisville’s Chickasaw neighborhood, a vibrant life was extinguished in an instant, leaving a family and a community in anguished mourning. On the evening of August 13, 2025, 28-year-old Jermia Offutt, a devoted mother of three and four months pregnant with her fourth child—a boy—was fatally shot in a senseless act of violence. The tragedy unfolded around 9 p.m. on the 4100 block of West Broadway, where Louisville Metro Police Department (LMPD) officers found her suffering from a gunshot wound. Despite being rushed to the hospital, Jermia and her unborn son could not be saved, leaving behind a void that echoes through the lives of those who loved her.

Jermia, affectionately known as “Squeaky,” was a beacon of kindness, the kind of person who would give the shirt off her back to help another. Her mother, Angie Davis, stood before the community, her voice trembling with grief, and spoke of the unbearable loss. “They not only killed my daughter, but they killed my grandson,” she said, her words heavy with the weight of a double homicide. Jermia’s three young children, who depended on her warmth and strength, were in a car nearby when the bullets tore through their world. “They saw their mother get killed,” her uncle said, tears streaming down his face as he recounted the trauma etched into their young minds. The image of those children, now motherless, witnessing such horror is a wound that may never heal.

The ripple effects of Jermia’s death extend beyond her family, igniting fury and despair in a community weary of violence. Rhonda Mathis, a local activist, stood resolute in her anger, declaring, “I’m angry because a pregnant mother was murdered inside a store. Double homicide—mother and child. Say her name: Jermia Offutt.” Her words resonate as a call to action, a demand for justice in a city grappling with a surge of violence in west Louisville. Just hours earlier that same day, another mother, 23-year-old Redaja Williams, was gunned down while taking her daughter to a bus stop, a chilling reminder of the relentless grip of gun violence. Councilman Ken Herndon revealed a potential connection between the two shootings, though the details remain unclear, adding a layer of urgency to the investigation.

Jermia’s family is no stranger to loss. Her uncle spoke of a brother murdered in 2003, a case that remains unsolved, and her younger brothers recalled their sibling, Deshon Johnson, killed in 2012 with no resolution. “This has got to stop,” one of Jermia’s brothers pleaded, his voice breaking as he spoke of fleeing Louisville to escape the violence, only to return under these heartbreaking circumstances. The family’s pain is compounded by the lack of closure in these earlier tragedies, and now they face the daunting task of raising Jermia’s children without her light to guide them.

Community leaders are rallying, desperate for solutions. Ray “Sir Friendly C” Barker, a long-time activist, expressed frustration at the city’s claims of declining crime rates when lives are still being shattered daily. He proposed more community involvement, policy changes in gun ownership, and a restructuring of the Office of Violence Prevention to better support grassroots efforts. Councilwoman Donna Purvis, representing Jermia’s district, is pushing for amendments to the Safer Kentucky Act to address local crime more effectively. Meanwhile, Councilman Herndon plans to meet with his community to seek answers, a small step toward healing a fractured city.

As the investigation continues, no arrests have been made, and the LMPD Homicide Unit is working tirelessly to uncover the truth. The family and community are pleading for anyone with information to come forward, urging tips to the anonymous Crime Tip Hotline at 502-574-LMPD (5673) or the LMPD Crime Tip Portal. A GoFundMe has been established to help cover Jermia’s funeral costs and support her children, who now face a future without their mother’s embrace.

Jermia Offutt was more than a victim; she was a loving mother, a cherished daughter, and a friend to many. Her loss, and that of her unborn son, is a stark reminder of the urgent need for change in Louisville. As her family grieves and her children carry the weight of witnessing her final moments, the call to say her name—Jermia Offutt—echoes as both a tribute and a demand for justice.