UVALDE, Texas — A week that started with the announcement of new lawsuits filed on behalf of victims' families ended with somber mourning at a Uvalde candlelight vigil, where the small South Texas community marked two years since 21 lives were lost in the Robb Elementary shooting.
For many loved ones of those gunned down on May 24, 2022, two years hasn't been enough time to heal. Some residents say they might never heal. As the evening hours ticked down Thursday night to Friday, one father who lost his son recounted his final moments with him on X, saying: "I wish I could relive 10 oclock (sic), May 23rd 2022 over and over like Groundhog Day. That would be bliss."
When the sun rose Friday, those who have spent two years demanding political reform renewed their calls for change.
Among them was Arnulfo Reyes, a teacher who survived the shooting and spent the morning rallying. Joined by about 50 supporters, he called for an end to gun violence as well as transparency in the shooting investigation. They wore and waved flags of orange, a color associated with the gun reform movement.
"I laid down for 77 minutes," Reyes said, referring to the amount of time the gunman was inside Robb before he law enforcement made their way in. "I stand now for 77 minutes."
In another part of town, at 11:32 a.m. – the time the shooting began two years prior – church bells at St. Philip's Episcopal rang out for each of the 21 Robb victims: Young boys and girls who were curious, who played softball, who wanted to study marine biology, who loved Chick-Fil-A, who hated wearing dresses.
The children were Makenna Lee Elrod, Layla Salazar, Maranda Mathis, Nevaeh Bravo, Jose Manuel Flores Jr., Xavier Lopez, Tess Marie Mata, Rojelio Torres, Eliahna Amyah Garcia, Eliahna Torres, Annabell Gudalupe Rodriguez, Jackie Cazares, Uziyah Garcia, Jayce Carmelo Luevanos, Maite Yuleana Rodriguez, Jailah Nicole Silguero, Amerie Jo Garza, Lexi Rubio and Alithia Ramirez. Two teachers, 48-year-old Irma Garcia and 44-year-old Eva Mireles, were also killed.
Songs of healing and prayer filled the air as 21 butterflies spread their wings.
The bells marked the passage of time. But time, these families say, becomes bit fuzzier in the aftermath of such loss.
"Even though it's been two years, it feels like it happened yesterday," said David Hernandez, who lost two nieces, 9-year-old Jacklyn Cazares and 10-year-old Annabell Rodriguez, at Robb. "When these two kids were taken from us... my world stopped for a while."
Jacklyn and Annabell weren't only cousins; they were best friends too.
"I'm sure those teachers would have given their lives again if there was any way they could have saved at least one of those children, because that's what a teacher does," Hernandez said. "I wish the cops would have done that too."
A different sound of heavy machinery might have been heard not far off as construction continued at the site of a still-unnamed elementary school that will replace Robb when it opens in the fall of 2025.
Effects of the Robb shooting have reverberated in other, more personal ways. Amy Marin – who for months was falsely accused by state authorities of leaving a door open at Robb, allowing the gunman to enter – has found therapy in art.
Her sanctuary of a home is now filled with colorful symbols of hope and resilience. A common sight: hearts and sunflowers.
“I found some calmness in painting,” said Marin, her strength fueled by survival and a desire to push for justice. "My fight started. All of us in that building acted in good faith greater than those 376 law enforcement officers that were outside doing nothing.”
Noemi Gonzalez, a Uvalde native, found her voice through the tragedy and is now an advocate for young ones with special needs.
"The spirit of these children is inside of me," Gonzalez said. "I hold it close to my heart. That's what helped me move forward. They've given me strength."
For families closest to the tragedy, moving forward has taken the form of pursuits of accountability and justice. Various city leaders have been fired or left in the months since the shooting – including the district police chief, city police leaders and the mayor – but no one has been held criminally reliable for what multiple reports have called law enforcement failures that exacerbated the loss on May 24, 2022.
Three lawsuits were filed this week by attorneys representing those families seeking legal action against Texas Department of Public Safety personnel, Meta, Activision and the gun-maker that made the AR-15 used in the shooting.
It'll likely be many months or years before resolution is reached. Days like Friday showed the community knows that, in the meantime, they could lean on each other and the support coming in from beyond Uvalde. In Bexar County, teachers donated blood as their own way of honoring the victims. At El Progreso Memorial Library, a team is working to create an easy-to-access digital archive showcasing the thousands of supportive cards, gifts and other items sent to Uvalde from around the world over the last two years.
That project will soon take on a new dimension: an oral history of the days following the Robb shooting, told through stories of those who were there and helped the community heal.
"There was so much love, passion and compassion that came out of this," Director Tammie Sinclair said. "So we chose to focus on that so that this can be a place to heal."
Meanwhile, shortly after 5 p.m., those in the area of Uvalde Town Square – a place that became a makeshift memorial site in the summer of 2022, and which will eventually be home to a permanent one – would have seen outside support arriving in sneakers and running clothes. A chorus of honks and cheers heralded the arrival of Paloma Gonzalez as she completed a 70-mile run.
Starting from San Antonio roughly 23 hours prior, she said she was paying tribute in her own way.
"You went through the most horrible thing, but you don't have to go through it alone," Gonzalez said at the plaza, carrying an American flag on a day when temperatures neared 100 degrees. "You have other communities that have your back and your support."
Amid the grief there are also glimpses, once again, of joy as families of the victims find their healing through worship.
"We have an opportunity today to not be known by the history of our city, but to reroute the destiny of our city," said Pastor Humberto Renovato of Revive Church, launched earlier this year. "I want to make sure our city isn't built for tragedy, but for triumph."
Then, in the evening, for the second May 24th in a row, residents slowly started filling up the grassy Uvalde Amphitheater, despite the sun beating down.
Some wore shirts reading familiar words: "UVALDE STRONG." Some wore shirts with combinations of other words marking why they were here. "In Loving Memory." "Robb Strong." "Forever Missed." Mariachis from Uvalde High School provided a solemn soundscape as a young man sang out in Spanish: "Tomorrow will be difficult living without you."
As the sun neared the horizon, a constellation of flickering lights lit up the amphitheater.
Soon after, a chant began echoing through the crowd: "We will remember your names."