In the wake of unimaginable loss, two grieving families are turning sorrow into a plea for change—determined that a single violent act will not define their children’s lives.
In a community torn apart by bloodshed inside a sacred space, the families of 8-year-old Fletcher Merkel and 10-year-old Harper Moyski are remembering their children’s boundless spirits and the devastation left behind after a gunman opened fire during a school Mass at Annunciation Catholic Church in Minneapolis.
The lives of Fletcher and Harper were cut short when a 23-year-old former student opened fire through the church’s stained-glass windows. The children were just steps from their classrooms when the attack began. Outside the school, Fletcher’s father, Jesse Merkel, delivered a raw and powerful tribute: “Yesterday, a coward decided to take our eight-year-old son, Fletcher, away from us. Because of their actions, we will never be allowed to hold him, talk to him, play with him, and watch him grow into the wonderful young man he was on the path to becoming.” He described a boy happiest with a fishing pole or in the kitchen, bright and joyful, deeply loved. He asked the public to “remember Fletcher for the person he was and not the act that ended his life,” urging parents everywhere to give their kids “an extra hug and kiss today.”
Harper’s parents, Michael Moyski and Jackie Flavin, remembered their daughter as “a bright, joyful, and deeply loved 10-year-old whose laughter, kindness, and spirit touched everyone who knew her.” They spoke of the crushing impact on Harper’s younger sister, who adored her big sister and now faces an unthinkable absence. “Our hearts are broken not only as parents, but also for Harper’s sister… As a family, we are shattered, and words cannot capture the depth of our pain.” They asked that Harper’s memory fuel action: “No family should ever have to endure this kind of pain. We urge our leaders and communities to take meaningful steps to address gun violence and the mental health crisis in this country. Change is possible, and it is necessary—so that Harper’s story does not become yet another in a long line of tragedies.”
Inside the church that morning, students and parishioners were thrown into chaos. Fifth-grader Weston Halse later described diving under a pew as gunfire shattered glass beside him. “My friend Victor, like, saved me though ’cause he laid on top of me, but he got hit,” Weston said. He and others were moved to the gym and locked in until the threat passed. Reunited with his mother later, he described feeling “super happy” to see her and “in shock” at how close the shots were.
Parents arriving at the scene spoke of terror and relief in the same breath. Carla Maldonado said her husband shouted for their children as they reached the church; they found their 7-year-old daughter in the parking lot and later learned their 11-year-old son had been hiding in the basement. “I am just incredibly grateful that this school did and had been preparing,” she said, “and also just incredibly sad and angry that this has to be a thing in any school.” Like many, she called the drumbeat of school shootings “a broken record,” emphasizing that even one life lost is too many.
From Washington, the President called for prayers and ordered U.S. flags flown at half-staff through August 31 in memory of the victims. Locally, vigils have filled parks and church steps as the community grieves, comforts one another, and searches for answers.
Through their heartbreak, Fletcher’s and Harper’s families are asking the public to hold on to who these children were—their laughter, their kindness, their ordinary and extraordinary joys—rather than the horror that ended their lives. They are also asking for more than sympathy: they want change. They want leaders and neighbors to act so that no more parents are forced to stand where they now stand.
As Minneapolis mourns, those calls echo across a shaken community: remember their names, care for the wounded, and choose actions that honor the futures Fletcher and Harper should have had.