MINNEAPOLIS — Laura DuSchane had just walked her 3-year-old son, Rory, across the street to Annunciation Catholic School for his third day of preschool on what should have been an ordinary Wednesday morning.
Back in her south Minneapolis home, DuSchane, who is eight months pregnant, settled onto the couch when the sound tore through the quiet. A rapid, relentless popping — gunfire, unmistakable. She leapt up, heart pounding. The bursts came in fast succession, unbroken for nearly five minutes. To her, it felt like eternity.
She flung open the back door, scrambled onto a table in the yard, straining for a glimpse over fences. Smoke drifted over Annunciation Church, clouding the stone façade. Neighbors stood frozen on their porches, faces drained of color.
“I yelled at them, ‘What do I do? My kid is in the school,’” she recounted in an interview with the Minnesota Star Tribune on Thursday.
Instinct propelled her forward. She sprinted down the street and up the hill toward the church next door to the school. Two men running in the opposite direction shouted for her to turn back — they didn’t know if the shooter had been contained. DuSchane didn’t stop.
“I said, ‘I’m running up there. I have to go find my kid.’”
As she ran, she fumbled with her phone, trying to dial 911. None of the calls went through. She rang her husband, Patrick, instead.
“I immediately said to him, ‘There’s a school shooting at Annunciation.’”
Squad cars screamed onto the block, multiplying by the second. By then, she was already rushing through scenes of horror.
“I had run past a lot of trauma already,” she said. “I saw kids filing out of the church. I saw my neighbor helping bloodied kids out of the church, and I think I was like, I can’t really spend too much time looking at this, because I know what I’m seeing is really bad.”
The death and injury toll from that day totals 20 and includes two children— Fletcher Merkel, 8, and Harper Moyski, 10 — who died at the scene from gunshot wounds. Fifteen more kids, ages 6 to 15, were injured, plus three parishioners in their 80s. All of those injured are expected to survive.
DuSchane pushed forward, not knowing the shooter was firing from outside the church — only that Rory was somewhere nearby. Children screamed and cried, bodies crumpled on the pavement. She spotted another parent she recognized, and together they charged toward the entrance. Holding the door for a teacher clutching a first-aid kit, DuSchane ducked into the school next to the church.
She burst into Rory’s preschool classroom, where the children still sat unsuspecting. She scanned frantically until she found his face.
“There’s an active shooter, and we need to barricade this room,” she told the teacher.
It had been years since she’d practiced an active-shooter drill, but muscle memory stirred. Rory’s teacher, Hannah Rausch, only three days into the job, gathered the class. She turned it into the quiet game.
“Seventeen 3-year-olds sat and were quiet and didn’t move and didn’t run,” DuSchane recalled.
