Getting on a bus or train shouldn’t feel like rolling the dice with your life. Yet lately, that’s how it feels for too many people. Violence crime is a major concern for many North Carolinians. And Charlotte isn’t immune. The entire country now knows the tragic story of 23-year-old Iryna Zarutska, who had fled Ukraine’s war for safety in America, being brutally killed on the Blue Line.
She had already escaped bombs and bullets overseas and came here believing America would offer peace. Instead, a late-night ride home ended her life.
That story hits close because it’s easy to imagine yourself — or someone you love — in that same seat. A daughter riding back from work. A neighbor coming home from class. A friend heading to meet family. It’s the kind of everyday moment we take for granted until something terrible makes us realize how fragile our safety can be.
And here’s what makes it even harder to bear: This wasn’t random. The suspect, Decarlos Brown, had been known to authorities for years. His record stretched on — armed robbery, theft, break-ins. He also struggled with schizophrenia and had a history of violence, including an assault on his own sister. Earlier this year, he was picked up for abusing 911 while ranting about wild conspiracies. The signs were there — clear as day.
Yet what happened? A judge let him go on a simple promise to return to court later — a promise from someone with that history. It’s like setting a wolf loose in a pen of sheep and telling yourself nothing bad will happen. Days later, Iryna was gone.
This isn’t just one judge making a poor call. It’s the symptom of a larger problem: a justice system that too often cycles dangerous people back into our neighborhoods. Courts are overloaded. Mental health services are stretched thin. And at the end of the day, it’s the public — the innocent riders, the ordinary families — who pay the price when those gaps show.
That reality is why I dedicate so much of my time to Women for Gun Rights. Nobody — especially women — should have to feel helpless when danger finds them. We’ve all heard the phrase “when seconds count, police are minutes away.” It’s not meant as a criticism of law enforcement. It’s just the truth. And in those minutes, you are your own first line of defense.
In Charlotte, I teach women practical ways to protect themselves. Some of it is about how to carry firearms responsibly, how to handle them safely, how to react under stress. But it goes beyond that. It’s about having the right mindset and having situational awareness. These simple habits can tilt the odds in your favor when danger strikes. I tell my students: Don’t bury your face in your phone walking to the car at night, keep your keys in hand, and notice who’s around you. If you’re on a bus or train, pay attention to people acting strangely. Those little things buy you time, and time buys you options.
I’ve seen the difference this makes. Moms who came in nervous about even touching a firearm walk out standing taller, knowing they could defend their kids if it ever came to it. Young women heading off to college start trusting their instincts instead of brushing off that uneasy feeling. Nurses, teachers, everyday people suddenly feel like they’re not potential victims anymore. That kind of confidence matters.
Danger doesn’t always give us a warning that it’s coming, and it doesn’t circle a date on the calendar to give you time to get ready. It just shows up — on a train, in a parking lot, outside the grocery store. We cannot go through life pretending it won’t happen again. That’s not good enough. Instead, we can honor Iryna by taking steps to protect ourselves.
The reality is that our safety is our responsibility because it is clear the courts and mental health system are incapable of doing their jobs until a real change is made. Put your phone away when you’re walking, keep your head up, and keep track of who’s around you. Take a self-defense class, learn how to handle a firearm safely, and talk with your family about what you’d do if something went wrong.
We don’t have to live our lives in fear. We can prepare ourselves for whatever comes our way. It’s about taking control of our own safety. It’s about giving yourself and the people you love a fighting chance. And that’s worth it.
Hannah Hannah is a firearms trainer for women in Charlotte.