In 1994, country singer Trace Adkins stood at the edge of death in his own home, shot through the heart and both lungs by his then-wife during a domestic dispute that spiraled beyond all reckoning. He survived not by miracle alone, but by the cold logic of physics — a bullet traveling too fast to expand, punching clean through rather than destroying what it touched. Decades later, Adkins has chosen to speak openly about the event, offering neither bitterness toward the woman who fired nor a simple story of victimhood, but something rarer: a reckoning with how quickly an ordinary argument can b
Trace Adkins Reveals How He Survived Shooting by Ex-Wife in 1994
The bullet went straight through my heart and both my lungs. It was a kill shot.
When you say the bullet went straight through at muzzle velocity, what does that actually mean for survival?
It means the bullet didn't expand inside him. A normal bullet, once it hits flesh, starts to mushroom—it gets bigger, tears more tissue. This one just punched a hole and kept going. The doctor said that expansion is what kills you in most cases.
And you don't remember the pain of being shot?
Not at all. Your body shuts down when something that serious happens. You go into shock. I got up, took a few steps, then I was on the floor. That's all I have.
But you remember the surgery.
Oh yeah. They crack you open to get to your heart and lungs. That pain was real. That's what I remember—the recovery, not the moment itself.
You said you don't think she meant to kill you. How do you arrive at that?
I'd never seen her with a gun before. Never seen her shoot. I have guns, I use them. But her? She didn't know what she was holding. I think in her mind it was something else—a way to make a point, maybe. Not a weapon.
And you chose not to press charges.
That's right. What would that have done? She was angry. I wasn't leaving. It escalated. Pressing charges doesn't undo any of it.
Il Polso
- A domestic argument in 1994 reached a point of no return when Curtis retrieved a firearm and fired at Adkins at point-blank range as he approached her with an outstretched hand.
- The bullet passed straight through his heart and both lungs — a trajectory his doctor would later call unsurvivable under almost any other ballistic circumstance.
- Emergency open-heart surgery saved his life, but the months of recovery that followed brought a different kind of suffering — the slow, grinding pain the initial shock had masked.
- Adkins chose not to press charges, believing Curtis did not fully understand the weapon's lethality — a act of forgiveness that complicates any easy narrative of the event.
- Now 64 and married to actress Victoria Pratt, Adkins is speaking publicly for the first time with real detail, placing one of the most violent moments of his life into the longer arc of who he became.
In 1994, country singer Trace Adkins stood at the edge of death in his own home, shot through the heart and both lungs by his then-wife during a domestic dispute that spiraled beyond all reckoning. He survived not by miracle alone, but by the cold logic of physics — a bullet traveling too fast to expand, punching clean through rather than destroying what it touched. Decades later, Adkins has chosen to speak openly about the event, offering neither bitterness toward the woman who fired nor a simple story of victimhood, but something rarer: a reckoning with how quickly an ordinary argument can become irreversible.
Trace Adkins was shot through the heart and both lungs by his second wife, Julie Curtis, in 1994 — and he lived. He recently recounted the details on Theo Von's podcast, breaking years of relative silence about a day that came within inches of ending his life before his career had fully begun.
The argument was about whether he would leave the house. Curtis wanted him gone; he refused. When she retrieved a gun, Adkins walked toward her with his hand out, asking her to give it to him. She fired before he reached her. The bullet entered beneath his left arm and exited beneath his right, traveling in a straight line through his chest. He described it simply: a kill shot.
What saved him was physics. The bullet moved at muzzle velocity — too fast to expand inside his body — and so it passed through cleanly rather than tearing everything apart. A doctor told him afterward that this was the only reason he was alive. He remembers the impact, getting up off the floor, taking a few steps, then nothing. Surgeons cracked his chest open to repair the damage. The pain, he said, came not from the shooting but from the long months of healing that followed.
Adkins never pressed charges. He didn't believe Curtis was trying to kill him — he thought she didn't understand what the gun would do, had never seen her handle one before, and in his words, thought it was a toy. The gun was real. The moment was real. But he extended her a forgiveness rooted in his read of her intent.
He has been married twice since, and is now with Canadian actress Victoria Pratt, whom he wed in 2019 in a ceremony officiated by Blake Shelton. Pratt recently became a naturalized American citizen — a milestone Adkins spoke about with evident pride, noting his own family's roots in America stretch back more than eight generations. It is a quiet, ordinary detail to set beside the extraordinary fact of his survival.
Trace Adkins was shot through the heart and both lungs in 1994, and he lived to tell the story—though for years he kept the details mostly private. Recently, on Theo Von's podcast, the 64-year-old country singer walked through what happened that day with his second wife, Julie Curtis, in a moment of domestic escalation that could have ended his life.
Adkins was refusing to leave the house. Curtis wanted him gone. The argument reached a point where she retrieved a gun, and as she stood there holding it, Adkins approached her with his hand extended, asking her to give it to him. She fired before he could reach her. The bullet entered under his left arm and exited under his right, traveling in a straight line through his chest. "It was a kill shot," he said on the podcast, describing the trajectory with the precision of someone who has thought about it many times.
What saved him was physics. The bullet traveled at muzzle velocity—the speed it leaves the gun—which meant it didn't have time to expand or mushroom inside his body. It simply punched straight through. A doctor later told him this was the only reason he survived. At the moment of impact, Adkins said, his body went into shock. He remembers getting up off the floor, taking a few steps, then collapsing. Everything after that is blank.
The recovery was brutal. Surgeons had to crack his chest open to repair the damage to his heart and lungs. The pain came not from the shooting itself—which he felt nothing during—but from the months of healing that followed. By 1994's end, Adkins and Curtis were divorced. He never pressed charges.
When asked whether he believed Curtis was trying to kill him, Adkins said no. He didn't think she understood what the gun would do. He'd never seen her hold one before, never seen her shoot. He owned guns himself and used them regularly, but she was unfamiliar with them. "I think she thought it was a toy," he said. The gun was real. The consequences were real. But her intent, in his view, was something else—anger, desperation, a moment that spiraled beyond what either of them anticipated.
Adkins went on to marry twice more after Curtis. His third wife was Rhonda Forlaw, from whom he separated in 2014. His current wife is Canadian actress Victoria Pratt, whom he married in October 2019 in a ceremony officiated by Blake Shelton. Pratt recently became a naturalized American citizen, and Adkins spoke about her pride in that achievement. His own family, he noted, has been in America for over eight generations on both sides. They share that pride in being American, he said—a detail that feels almost mundane set against the weight of what he survived three decades ago.
Citazioni salienti
She was mad. Wanted me to leave, and I wasn't going to leave, so that's how it went down.— Trace Adkins, on the circumstances leading to the shooting
The doctor said the only reason I survived was cause the bullet went through at point-blank velocity at muzzle velocity. So it didn't have time to mushroom. It just went straight through.— Trace Adkins, explaining the medical reason for his survival