NEWTOWN, Conn. — While the people of Newtown do their best to cope with loss and preserve the memories of their loved ones, another class of residents is also finding it difficult to move on: the emergency responders who saw firsthand the aftermath of last week’s school shooting.
Firefighter Peter Barresi was driving through Newtown on Friday when police cars with lights flashing and sirens blaring raced toward his oldest son’s elementary school. After he was sent to Sandy Hook school himself, he saw things that will stay with him forever.
With anguished parents searching for their children, he prepared to receive the wounded, but a paramedic came back empty-handed, underscoring the totality of the massacre. Barresi, whose own son escaped unharmed, later discovered that among the 26 dead were children who played baseball with his son and had come to his house for birthday parties.
‘‘For some of us, it’s fairly difficult,’’ said Barresi, of the Sandy Hook Volunteer Fire and Rescue Co. ‘‘Fortunately most of us did not go in.’’
Newtown and environs weathered a fourth day of funerals Thursday, six days after a 20-year-old gunman killed his mother at home, 20 children and six adults at the school, and himself for reasons still unknown. Mourners laid to rest Catherine Hubbard, Benjamin Wheeler, Jesse Lewis, and Allison Wyatt, all 6 years old; and Grace McDonnell, 7.
A service was held in Katonah, N.Y., for teacher Anne Marie Murphy, 52, who authorities believe helped shield some of her students from the rain of bullets.
A bell tolled Thursday at Newtown’s St. Rose of Lima Roman Catholic Church at the funeral for Catherine, who her family said would be remembered for her passion for animals and her constant smile.
Trinity Episcopal church on Main Street was filled to capacity for the funeral for Benjamin, described as a budding musician and Beatles fan. His service included a rendition of ‘‘Here Comes The Sun.’’ About two dozen Boy Scout leaders lined the front pathway to the church in honor of the former Cub Scout.
In downtown Danbury, mourners filed into the ornate white-pillared First Congregational Church for a memorial service for 30-year-old teacher Lauren Rousseau. Friends wept at the altar as they remembered the spirited, hardworking, sunny-natured woman who brightened their lives with silliness and gave them all nicknames.
The gunman’s mother, Nancy Lanza, also was laid to rest Thursday, in a private ceremony at an undisclosed location in tiny Kingston, N.H., where she used to live. About 25 family members attended, the town’s police chief said.
Governor Dannel Malloy has asked people across Connecticut to observe a moment of silence at 9:30 a.m. Friday, which will mark a week since the shootings. Places of worship and buildings with bells have been asked to ring them 26 times, for the victims at the school. Officials and clergy in many other states have said they will also participate.
While family, friends, and even strangers weep, members of the emergency forces that responded to the shooting, many of them volunteers, are wrestling with frustration, guilt, and anguish as they receive counseling from a state intervention team to help them deal with the horrors they saw and heard.
Authorities say the victims were shot with a high-powered, military-style rifle loaded with ammunition designed to inflict maximum damage. All the victims had been shot at least twice, the medical examiner said, and as many as 11 times. Two victims were pronounced dead at a hospital, while all others died in the school.
Initially, only police were allowed inside amid concerns about a second shooter. They are credited with helping to end the rampage by gunman Adam Lanza, who killed himself as officers stormed the building. But some responders struggle with not having been able to do more, questions over what could have been done differently, and a feeling that they do not deserve praise.
Firefighter Marc Gold, who rushed to offer help even though his company was not called, said he is haunted by the trauma of the parents and the faces of the police who emerged from the building.
‘‘I saw the faces of the most hardened paramilitary, SWAT team guys come out, breaking down, saying they’ve just never seen anything like this,’’ said Gold, a member of the Hawleyville Volunteer Fire Department. ‘‘What’s really scary to me is I’m really struggling, and I didn’t see the carnage.’’
After escorting the last group of children from the school to safety, Gold was positioned outside the school to help with the injured, but he never had the opportunity.