The bush still bears the scars, different from all the others outside Showcase Magazine on Danville’s Main Street. For Councilman Lee Vogler, it’s more than just damaged foliage – it’s where he fought for his life four months ago.
“This area right over here was where I ended up,” Vogler says, standing just feet from where he collapsed on July 30 after being doused with gasoline and set on fire. “This bush is actually what I fell on.”
In those terrifying moments, as darkness began to creep in, Vogler made what he thought would be his final phone call to his wife, Blair. First responders arrived quickly, their voices cutting through his fading consciousness: “It’s gonna be alright Lee, we’re gonna take care of you.”
But Vogler felt something he’d never experienced before. “I just had this very different feeling than I had ever felt, like my body felt like it was shutting down,” he recalls. “I couldn’t feel anything. The last thing I remember really was that feeling of being lifted up as the helicopter took off and then I was asleep for a month after that.”
In the ambulance, facing his own mortality, Vogler remembers asking the paramedics a question no one should have to ask: “Am I gonna die?”
Their response was firm: “No, not today, Lee, no not today.”
Yet when he saw Blair, the gravity of the situation overwhelmed him. “I’m not going to make it,” he told her, gripped by an unfamiliar sensation that made him fear the worst.
The alleged attacker, Shotsie Michael Buck-Hayes, was arrested and faces attempted first-degree murder charges. During his first court appearance in September, Buck-Hayes requested a mental competency evaluation ahead of next year’s trial.
Meanwhile, Vogler’s road to recovery has been marked by numerous surgeries and skin grafts. But it’s his perspective on healing – both physical and emotional – that stands out.
Recently returning to the scene of the attack, Vogler chooses to focus on tomorrow rather than yesterday. “It obviously brings up memories, not good memories,” he admits. “But I also want to focus on what’s next. I’m a very forward-thinking person. So, it was more like ‘I missed being in the office. I miss working with my colleagues. I’m ready to get back to it.’”
He shares an analogy that helps him cope: “If I dropped a blot of ink into a glass of water, you would notice it. If I dropped that same size blot of ink into a swimming pool, you’d never notice it was there. This negative thing will always be a part of my relationship with this office, but I’m gonna surround it with so many positive experiences that over time it kind of fades away.”
For Vogler, the office building that was once a crime scene is becoming something else entirely – a symbol of resilience, where good memories will eventually overwhelm the darkness of that July day.