Minneapolis Community Mourns Victims of Catholic School Shooting

As the young man approached the police line carrying white flowers, he was just a block away from the church and school in Minneapolis where earlier that day two children had been killed. The shooter opened fire in the middle of the morning mass. In an instant, stained glass splintered and the city’s sense of safety along with it. Arthur Louie, who grew up nearby, said he felt he needed to be there, even though he hadn’t belonged to Annunciation Church, but knew many people who did. He described the neighborhood as connected in a way that tied them to one another through school fairs and block parties. “When something like it happens it doesn’t really matter what our beliefs are, we’re going to band together,” he said before kneeling at the scene and placing the flowers.

The shooter identified as Robin Westman, took their own life after the attack. Police are gathering search warrants and digging deeper into potential motives for the attack. FBI Director Kash Patel confirmed that the bureau was looking into the attack as a hate crime and as an act of domestic terrorism specifically directed at Catholics. Fourteen other children and three adults were also reported injured. This was the fourth shooting in a 24 hour period in the city and comes less than three months after a mass shooting that killed state lawmaker Melissa Hortman and her husband Mark. The trauma weighed even more heavily on the neighborhood community.

Outside of the school, yellow tape sealed off the entire area. News crews clipped and jostled each other for an opportunity to capture images of investigators and emergency vehicles. The block became an operations zone. The Red Cross set up a tent to offer water and snacks. Chaplains wearing yellow-lettered shirts stood among the residents without speaking. A man wearing an “I ♥ Jesus” cap handed tissues to a woman who had paused her dog-walking to look on in tears. Where children’s voices and school bells had been moments before, sirens and flashbulbs now reigned.

Trauma that Spans Beyond the Church Walls

Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O’Hara described the situation as exceptionally traumatic for all of the responding personnel. He said that many, “were profoundly traumatized by what they witnessed,” while also referring to, “all of the children, all of the staff members….everybody that was in mass this morning.” Many families ran towards the scene when the news broke, some abandoned their cars entirely to run the last block to the scene. While many were processing the trauma of the event, community members set up a relief station which served as an informal gathering place, offering people a place to gather and process what had happened.

One student who survived the shooting, told local TV station Fox 9, that a friend had jumped on him to protect him from bullets and was hit. The school had an active shooter plan/ protocols for incidents, but did not have a plan for drills inside the church. The morning had started out like any other mass when suddenly it disrupted not just the school day but the belief that either of the institutions; church or classroom, were places of sanctuary. Violence disrupted the sanctuary of both spaces at the same time, affecting everyone connected to the church.

A Call to Act in the Wake of the Unthinkable

Bishop Harding Smith—a local pastor and anti-violence advocate—stood at the police barriers and articulated the rippling aftermath of the tragedy. “Just from what happened today, our young boys and girls will be afraid to even come to school,” he said. “They will be afraid to sleep alone. They will never be able to stop hearing echoes of the gun fire and sirens. It will traumatize them.”

The school principal, Matt DeBoer, later spoke to the devastated community. His comments were directed at the students and their families. “I love you, you are so brave, and I am so sorry this happened to us today,” he said. He told the story of students and teachers shielding one another, helping each other, and becoming heroes in real life. The school had lost “two angels,” he said.

DeBoer’s message and compelled action. “I beg you,” he added. “I ask you to pray, but do not stop there. Together, let us make a positive difference and show support for the children of this community, for these families, for these teachers. Together, we can’t let this happen again.”