Help Ashley Loomis Heal and Honor Shawn's Memory

We lost one of our own.

Yesterday, I had no idea that at 4:16 PM, I would hear my best friend—my family—for the last time. Our final conversation ended with Ashley and Shawn Loomis telling me they were headed to the fair with their kids, finally enjoying a day out together after a long, hard battle. Shawn had recently survived a massive heart attack—beating the odds as one of the rare 14% who make it through. He was just cleared to start doing things again. Living again.

But life, as it often does, can be devastatingly cruel.

On their way home, as they rounded a curve in the road, an oncoming vehicle lost control and struck them head-on.

The impact was catastrophic.

Both Ashley and Shawn were ejected from the vehicle. When the car rolled, it landed on top of Ashley.

Shawn passed at the scene.

Ashley was airlifted to a trauma center in critical condition. She has over 100 stitches in her right hand, a brain bleed, deep bruising, and fractures—but no injury compares to the heartbreak of waking up and learning her husband didn’t make it. That their children lost their father. That the love of her life is gone.

Shawn Loomis wasn’t just a firefighter. He was a light. A protector. A leader. A friend to everyone who was lucky enough to cross his path. I met him and Ashley at a firefighter convention here in Pennsylvania—he and his entire crew had come all the way from New York. The passion they carried, the humility, the strength, the love—it changed me. From that day forward, they became family.

He lit up every room he walked into. He worked with relentless dedication and gave with a heart twice the size of his body. He was the kind of man who’d give you the shirt off his back and stay to make sure it fit just right. Whether you were a stranger or a lifelong friend, Shawn treated you like you mattered—because to him, you did.

He adored Ashley. He lived for his children. And he would have fought to his last breath to protect them—which, in the end, he did.

This loss has left a gaping wound in the hearts of so many. Not just his family and friends, but an entire community who loved and leaned on him. Firefighters. Neighbors. Strangers who became family. Blood or chosen—it made no difference to Shawn. He gave everything he had to the people he loved.

And now, we have to find a way to give back.

We’re asking for help—whatever you can offer—to support Ashley and their children through this unimaginable loss. All donations will go directly to the family to assist with medical bills, funeral expenses, and the long road of healing ahead.

If you prefer to donate in other ways, please feel free to reach out to me or Lana Winton directly. Out of respect for the family’s grief, we ask that you please avoid reaching out to Ashley right now—updates on her recovery will be posted here as we receive them.

Please keep this family in your heart. Pray for strength, for healing, and for peace.

Firefighter till the very end. We lost one of the good ones.