The survivors of Annunciation, in their own words
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A parent runs toward Annunciation after the shooting. Photo: Richard Tsong-Taatari/Star Tribune via Getty Images
"Once I opened the door … somebody was yelling that it's the police, and all I saw were dozens and dozens of little heads starting to poke up from the pews. That's when I realized that it was the kids that were shot."— Minneapolis police Lt. Ryan Kelly, the first officer on scene
One year ago today, a shooter fired 116 rounds of ammunition into Annunciation Catholic Church as the parish school's students held Mass.
The mass shooting killed 10-year-old Harper Moyski and 8-year-old Fletcher Merkel.
- At least 28 others were wounded — the highest toll for any school shooting in Minnesota history.
The big picture: Annunciation Catholic School's students, parents and staff have not only grappled with the tragedy in private.
- Some took their testimony to Minnesota's halls of power in an effort to change policy.
Many more have spoken out publicly in the past year, leaving a powerful public record of their grief, shock, anger, sadness and frustration.
Here are some of the words from Annunciation survivors that have stopped us in our tracks since Aug. 27, 2025:
"The first thing [my daughter] said to me when we were reunited in the gym was, 'Mom, you told me something like this would never happen.'"— Parent Kristen Neville, speaking to MPR News
In the immediate aftermath, parents collected their children from Annunciation's gymnasium — and consoled others in anguish.
"I don't know why he even had this job … but he kept saying my name, and I knew that as soon as I looked at him, he was going to tell me that [Harper] wasn't here … For a slice of a second I was like, 'What if I just don't look at him?'"— Jackie Flavin, mother of Harper Moyski, speaking to the Annunciation Light Alliance about the person who informed her of her daughter's death

The horror was punctuated by stories of heroism and miracles.
"I just remember feeling that the kids have to see that someone is willing to attempt to help them."— Annunciation parent Devin O'Brien, who rushed toward the gunfire to keep the shooter outside the building, speaking to the Star Tribune
Doctors initially feared 13-year-old Sophia Forchas would not survive her wounds.
- After 57 days in the hospital, Sophia was released and back in school three days later.
"The parish and the school did a rosary every night until all the kids came home from the hospital. Sophia was the last one … They were there every night for all 57 days."— Tom Forchas, father of Sophia, speaking to MPR News

"There's an African proverb that says, 'When you pray, move your feet.' I beg you, I ask you to please pray, but don't stop with your words … Never again can we let this happen."— Annunciation principal Matt DeBoer at a press conference
The community moved its feet. Blue and green bows — tied to light posts, trees and street signs across South Minneapolis — were only the most visible signs.
- "We didn't cook for over two months … At a time when you're not sleeping, you have no appetite, it was immensely helpful."— Parents Matt and Molly Stommes speaking to The Catholic Spirit

"Sometimes I dream that [Harper and I] are having a sleepover. And I can talk to her: 'So what are you doing up there? Are you having fun? Are you talking to Fletcher or something? Are you talking to God?' I just want to know."— Annunciation student Orla McGarvey, speaking to StoryCorps about her friend, Harper Moyski
Almost three weeks after the shooting, classes resumed — but a sense of normalcy was sometimes elusive.
In the third grade classroom, students "don't just play house or teacher, they play therapy," one parent told StoryCorps. First grade teacher Sara Slack got a classroom rabbit to help manage kids' anxiety.
"He won't walk home from school, even though it's only about two-and-a-half blocks. I need to pick him up every day, and he needs to know that I'm there."— Parent Katie Simpson speaking to the Star Tribune about her fifth grade son

"We don't expect everyone to agree with us. But we do expect this to be taken seriously. And that means more than walking in with your mind already made up."— Flavin, Harper's mom, in a Star Tribune op-ed
A group of parents formed the Annunciation Light Alliance, whose testimony was pivotal in pushing a ban on assault rifles and high-capacity magazines through the Minnesota Senate in May.
What happened: The proposal stalled in the state House, which is tied evenly between Republicans and Democrats.
The other side: Critics argued the proposed bans wouldn't prevent violence, noting many criminals already ignore gun laws. They also said it would violate the Second Amendment rights of lawful owners.
Between the lines: Parents active in the Alliance expressed frustration at their feeling that some lawmakers had already dug in.
- "We need to see each other as fully human … and not reduce each other to what is convenient," said the group's co-chair, parent Brittany Haeg.

"I'm excited for high school. But I'm also scared. At Annunciation, it happened once. It's never going to happen again. At Holy Angels, it's never happened, so maybe there's a higher chance of it happening there."— Estella Safe, recent Annunciation graduate and soon-to-be Holy Angels freshman, speaking with Strib reporter Reid Forgrave
A new school year always brings change — but for many in the school, uncommonly bonded by tragedy, the changes cut deeply.
"I'm exhausted and my body is for sure just ready, but I think my mind and heart are just sad and overwhelmed because I'm just not sure … what it will feel like to do this without my students."— First grade teacher Sara Slack speaking to the Star Tribune about the end of last school year

"Fletcher was spicy. He was very loud. He was also just so full of energy and all that he wanted to do was go — go, go go."— Jesse Merkel, Fletcher's father, speaking to the Annunciation Light Alliance
On the shores of Grass Lake — where Fletcher Merkel once proved there really were fish in the lake, despite what naysayers said — a memorial bench now sits in his honor.
In Lyndale Rose Garden Park, friends of Harper Moyski — who loved salty food — told MPR News they like sprinkling salt on her memorial bench. "It reminds us of her."
"She made sure everyone knew they were loved."— Savannah Tamppari, friend of Harper Moyski, to MPR

Go deeper: The Star Tribune's "Annunciation Diaries" documentary
