KFOR Oklahoma’s News 4 reporter Lauren Henry says the heartbreak started in the most ordinary place: a front porch, on Christmas Day, with family all around.
In Comanche, she reports, Sandra Phelps was sitting outside when a stray bullet struck her, turning a holiday gathering into a scene her relatives say they will never forget.
Henry tells viewers the porch behind her is where Phelps was shot, and her family described her as more than a grandmother. One granddaughter, Amanda Winslett, told Henry that Phelps was “nanny” not just to her own grandkids, but to what felt like the whole neighborhood, because so many children grew up calling her that.
The early details also show how fast things happened. Henry reports that witnesses told deputies they heard several gunshots – five to seven rounds over a few minutes – then Phelps cried out and collapsed, right there where she had been sitting.
KOCO 5 News writer Jonathan Greco frames it as a case that quickly drew attention because it involved a gun given as a Christmas gift and a deadly result that appears to have been unplanned. Greco reports that investigators arrested a suspect for first-degree manslaughter after the person admitted they had been target practicing in a backyard with a gun received for Christmas.
Even before names were widely shared, the core fact was already frighteningly clear: a bullet fired for “practice” allegedly traveled far enough to kill someone who wasn’t anywhere near the shooter.
What Deputies Say Happened On The Porch
Lauren Henry says court documents spell out the moment deputies arrived and what witnesses told them. According to those documents, Phelps was holding a child on the porch when the family heard the shots, and shortly after, she shouted “ouch” and fell.
Henry reports investigators later learned the bullet went through Phelps’ right arm and entered her chest, killing her. The way the wound is described makes the situation feel even more cruel, because it suggests she wasn’t even facing the danger, just living her life while a holiday visit unfolded around her.
Henry also shares how Phelps’ family described the day before everything changed. Another granddaughter, Charyl Barraza, told Henry that the family had the great-grandbabies there, and Phelps was cuddling them, loving on them, and “hogging presents,” trying to make the day special in the way grandmothers always do.
Barraza’s point lands hard because it reminds you that this didn’t happen during some risky event or argument. It happened during the kind of Christmas scene people picture as safe – kids, family, and a woman sitting outside like she had probably done many times before.
Greco’s KOCO report adds a timeline on the emergency response that shows how quickly the case became a major investigation. He writes that around 3:15 p.m. on Christmas Day, Survival Flight EMS and the Meridian Fire Department responded to a report that a person had been shot on County Road 1800, and that the victim later died.
That time stamp matters because it places the shooting in the middle of the holiday afternoon, not late at night or during some chaotic party. It was broad daylight in a place where families were likely doing the same thing as Phelps’ family – visiting, eating, opening gifts, and relaxing.
The Backyard Target Practice Investigators Focused On
Lauren Henry reports that authorities searched the area and learned about a man named Cody Adams, who, according to court documents, had received a gun for Christmas.
Henry says neighbors reported hearing Adams shooting throughout the afternoon, and when deputies spoke with him, he showed them where he had been firing in his backyard.
Henry reports that deputies said Adams became upset and began to cry when he was told his shooting might have caused Phelps’ death. That reaction doesn’t answer the legal questions, but it does paint a picture of a moment where someone realizes, too late, that bullets don’t stay inside the story you want them to stay inside.
Henry also reports a detail that goes right to basic safety: deputies noted there was nothing behind Adams’ property to stop bullets from traveling beyond the yard.
In the documents she describes, Adams was allegedly shooting at a Red Bull can on the ground, which is the kind of casual “target” choice that sounds harmless until you picture a round skipping, rising, or sailing into an area where other people are sitting outside.
Greco’s KOCO report lines up with that bigger outline, but he tells it in a more stripped-down, investigative way. He writes that the Stephens County Sheriff’s Office said the investigation revealed a person got a gun for Christmas and was target practicing in a backyard, and investigators believed the gun was being pointed in the direction of the scene where the victim was shot.
Greco also reports that investigators spoke with someone who admitted they were shooting at a target in the backyard and had heard that someone had died from a gunshot wound “a couple of roads over.” That detail is chilling because it suggests the shooter may have learned about the death through word of mouth before law enforcement ever connected the dots.
Put together, Henry’s court-document details and Greco’s law-enforcement summary describe the same terrifying possibility: an afternoon of casual shooting, with no safe backstop, may have ended with a fatal shot traveling into a neighbor’s home space.
A Community That Says Gunshots Are “Constant”
Lauren Henry’s reporting also includes something that complicates how people in the area think about responsibility and certainty. She says neighbors told News 4 that gunshots are not unusual in that neighborhood, and that the sound of people shooting can come from different directions.
A neighbor, Jerry McDonald, told Henry, “You hear it in the neighborhood all the time,” and described it as something that happens “constantly,” from both directions and from the back. That kind of statement doesn’t excuse anything, but it does reveal a reality many rural and semi-rural communities deal with: people shoot on private property, and over time, a risky habit can start feeling normal.
Henry also reports that because shooting is heard so frequently, some neighbors have started questioning whether authorities have the right suspect. That’s a painful layer to add to a family’s grief, because it means the community isn’t only mourning, it’s also uncertain and nervous about what truly happened.
Another neighbor, Jordan Hodges, told Henry something that sounds like both heartbreak and a plea for accuracy.
Hodges said Phelps “was a life that mattered,” and explained they passed her often and saw her outside, but they also wanted to make sure “the person that did this is the person that is held accountable,” and that the right person is charged.
That kind of doubt can sound like conflict, but it can also be a sign of how serious the community is taking this. When a death happens in a way that feels random, people search for something solid to hold onto, and the only solid thing they can demand is a careful investigation.
The Charge, The Questions, And What Comes Next
Lauren Henry reports that Cody Adams is facing a charge of first-degree manslaughter. In her account, that charge connects directly to the allegation that his shooting may have caused the death, along with deputies’ observations about the lack of a safe barrier behind his shooting area.
Greco’s KOCO report also states that an arrest was made for first-degree manslaughter, while noting that early on, information about the victim and suspect had not been released publicly.
That difference makes sense when you look at the timing: Greco’s piece was updated on December 26, 2025, while Henry’s report aired days later, after court documents and local reporting filled in more of the story.
Henry says the Stephens County Sheriff’s Department did not comment on the case at the time of her report, but the department said it planned a press conference later that week. That kind of silence can frustrate people, but it’s also common when investigators believe the case will be closely examined in court.
This is also where the “gift gun” part of the story becomes more than a headline hook. A firearm given as a present can be handled responsibly, but this case, as Henry and Greco describe it, raises the fear that somebody started shooting without thinking through the basics: safe direction, safe backstop, and the simple fact that “my yard” doesn’t magically stop a projectile.
And here’s the unsettling part that sticks with me: this wasn’t an argument, a robbery, or a confrontation where people expect danger. It was target practice, which many gun owners treat as normal recreation, and it allegedly produced a death that looks almost impossible to accept – until you remember that bullets don’t care about intent.
The other thing that makes this case hard to shake is how it shows the difference between “I didn’t mean to” and “I didn’t control the risk.”
If the allegations are true, then the deadly outcome didn’t come from a plan to harm someone, but from choices that ignored how far a bullet can travel when there’s nothing behind the target to stop it.
For Phelps’ family, as Lauren Henry’s interviews make clear, none of that will ever bring her back, and the image they keep returning to is simple and brutal: their “nanny” sitting on a porch, holding a child, on Christmas Day, when a stranger’s backyard shooting allegedly reached her anyway.
A former park ranger and wildlife conservationist, Lisa’s passion for survival started with her deep connection to nature. Raised on a small farm in northern Wisconsin, she learned how to grow her own food, raise livestock, and live off the land. Lisa is our dedicated Second Amendment news writer and also focuses on homesteading, natural remedies, and survival strategies. Lisa aims to help others live more sustainably and prepare for the unexpected.
