STT. Former Sports Reporter and Teacher Dies in Suspected Murder-Suicide, Child Found Safe
Now Her Silence Tells One of the Hardest Stories of All.**
In the early morning quiet of a suburban Alabama neighborhood, a house stood still in a way it never should.
The sun had risen as it always did, casting soft light across driveways and lawns, unaware that inside one home, two lives had already ended.
Christina Chambers, once a familiar face on local television screens and later a beloved high school teacher, was found dead inside her Hoover home.

Beside her was her husband, Johnny Rimes.
Authorities would later say they believe the two died in a suspected murder-suicide.
Both had sustained gunshot wounds.
The investigation was still ongoing, but the words alone were heavy enough to stop an entire community in its tracks.
Inside that same house, something small and fragile remained.
Their three-year-old son was found nearby, alive and physically unharmed.
He was too young to understand the weight of what had happened, too young to know how deeply his life had already been changed.
Police arrived shortly after 9 a.m. on Tuesday morning, responding to a scene no first responder ever grows used to.

For them, it was another call on the radio.
For everyone else, it would become a moment that fractured time into before and after.
Christina Chambers was only 38 years old.
To those who knew her, that number felt impossibly wrong.
She was a woman of movement, energy, faith, and relentless drive.
She was the kind of person who filled a room not by being loud, but by being fully present.
Long before tragedy defined her name in headlines, Christina had spent her life telling stories about others.
She had stood on football sidelines under glaring stadium lights.
She had held microphones in the rain, the cold, and the suffocating Southern heat.
She had asked thoughtful questions, listened carefully, and made athletes feel seen.

Her voice was one that viewers trusted.
Her smile was one that felt genuine, even through a camera lens.
Christina joined WBRC 6 in 2015 and quickly became a mainstay of the station’s sports coverage.
She was best known for the “Sideline” segment, where local sports were given the same care and respect as national headlines.
Friday nights meant high school football, crowded bleachers, marching bands, and Christina moving confidently along the field.
She believed local stories mattered.
She believed young athletes deserved recognition.
She believed sports were about community as much as competition.
Colleagues remember her as driven and prepared, but also warm and generous.
She did not chase attention.
She chased excellence.

Yet even as her broadcasting career thrived, another calling quietly grew stronger.
Christina felt pulled toward teaching.
She wanted to shape the next generation of storytellers.
She wanted students to believe their voices mattered, even before the world told them so.
In 2021, she made a decision that surprised some and inspired many.
She stepped away from full-time television and became a broadcast journalism teacher at Thompson High School.
It was not a step back.
It was a step deeper into purpose.
At Thompson High School, Christina did not simply teach camera angles or script writing.
She taught confidence.
She taught discipline.
She taught young people how to stand in their truth and speak it clearly.
Her classroom became a place where students felt challenged and supported at the same time.
She expected excellence because she believed her students were capable of it.

Under her guidance, the school’s broadcast program flourished.
Students began winning awards at the state level.
Two of her mentees would go on to be named Alabama Journalists of the Year.
Her team captured a SkillsUSA State Championship in Broadcast News.
They earned two All-Alabama Overall Broadcast Awards.
The program itself received a coveted journalism sustainability award.

In 2024, Christina was honored as the Alabama Scholastic Press Association Advisor of the Year.
The recognition mattered, but not as much as the relationships she built.
Administrators spoke of her “meaningful connections” with students.
Colleagues spoke of her dedication and quiet leadership.
Students spoke of her belief in them, especially when they struggled to believe in themselves.
To the Warrior Nation Network, Christina was more than a teacher.
She was family.
Dr. Wayne Vickers, superintendent of Alabaster City Schools, described her as a cherished member of the Warrior family.
He spoke of the lasting impression she left on students, colleagues, and viewers alike.
The loss, he said, was profound.
Even after transitioning into teaching full time, Christina never fully left the world of sports reporting.

She continued to work with WBRC 6 as a freelance reporter.
During the most recent football season, she returned to the sidelines for “Sideline,” balancing teaching during the week and reporting on Fridays.
It was exhausting.
It was demanding.
It was exactly who she was.
Long before WBRC 6, Christina’s path through journalism took her across the Southeast.
She worked at WLTZ NBC38 in Columbus, Georgia.
She later moved to Comcast Sports Southeast in Atlanta.

There, she covered Auburn University sports and developed a deep respect for collegiate athletics.
Even after leaving, she remained a loyal supporter of the Tigers.
Her heart, however, never strayed far from her alma mater.
Christina attended the University of Alabama at Birmingham.
She was not only a journalism student but also a Division I athlete.
For four years, she competed on UAB’s track and field team.
Her coaches saw speed and discipline.
Her teammates saw grit and determination.
Christina found her stride in distance running, pushing herself through pain and doubt.
She graduated in 2011 with a bachelor’s degree in journalism.
Running never left her life.
It became a form of meditation, endurance, and self-discovery.

She ran marathons around the world.
She crossed the finish line of the Boston Marathon three times.
She was planning her fourth run in 2026.
Running was not about medals for her.
It was about proving she could endure what was hard.
Faith was another constant in Christina’s life.
Raised Catholic in Cullman, Alabama, she carried her beliefs openly and unapologetically.
Each Ash Wednesday, she would walk into the newsroom with a charcoal cross on her forehead.

She did not hide it.
She wore it with quiet pride.
She prayed.
She fasted.
She sacrificed until Easter Sunday.
Those who worked alongside her admired her discipline and sincerity.
Friends said she had a motor that never seemed to stop.
Off camera, Christina was deeply devoted to her family.
She was a wife.
She was a mother.
She was fiercely protective of her son, whose laughter and curiosity filled her life with light.

Photos on social media showed moments of joy, milestones, and ordinary happiness.
Nothing suggested the ending that would come.
When news of her death broke, disbelief spread quickly.
Former colleagues struggled to find words.
Students cried in hallways.
Parents hugged their children tighter.
Communities mourned not only a life lost, but a future erased.
The presence of her unharmed son added a layer of heartbreak impossible to ignore.
He survived.
He will grow.

He will one day ask questions no one knows how to answer.
He will learn his mother’s name through stories and memories.
He will hear about her kindness, her strength, and her impact.
Christina Chambers once told stories that brought communities together.
Now her own story does the same, in grief rather than celebration.
It reminds people that even the brightest lives can carry hidden burdens.
It reminds people to check on one another.
It reminds people that legacies are not measured by how lives end, but by how they are lived.
Christina lived with purpose.
She lived with faith.
She lived with relentless care for others.
And though her voice has gone silent, the echoes of her life remain.
They live on in classrooms, on sidelines, in finish lines crossed, and in hearts forever changed.
