Chantelle Moore
14 min readDec 16, 2023

“I Could See The Fear in their Face.” An Analysis of Inside the Uvalde Response: Providing A Further Understanding of the Failed Police Response to the Robb Elementary School Shooting

On May 24, 2022, the shooting at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas, became one of the deadliest school shootings in U.S. history, resulting in the deaths of 19 students and two teachers, as well as injuries to 17 others.

Initially, the 376 officers from various law enforcement agencies — local, state, and federal — who responded to the shooting were praised for what was assumed to be a swift and heroic intervention, particularly in neutralizing the gunman. However, this perception quickly unraveled. Investigations revealed that it took a staggering 77 minutes for officers to subdue the shooter — an 18-year-old with no prior firearm experience — after he first entered the school building.

Public outrage was immediate and intense. Survivors and the broader community demanded answers, questioning how nearly 400 officers could fail so profoundly in their response. In the recent years since the massacre, discussions surrounding mass shootings, law enforcement failures, and public trust in police protection have dominated discourse. Compounding the controversy, security footage and other incriminating materials were released before a thorough investigation could be completed. As a result, blame has fallen almost entirely on the officers, who have been widely condemned as indifferent and cowardly — accusations that have further eroded public confidence in their ability to protect communities.

A year following the shooting, a joint documentary and investigative article produced by The Texas Tribune, ProPublica, and FRONTLINE offered a comprehensive analysis of the police response to the shooting. The investigation draws upon a wide range of materials, including body camera footage, 911 calls, and interviews with multiple officers present at the scene. By providing firsthand accounts, the documentary delivers a long-overdue analysis of the decision-making processes — both actions and inactions — of the officers that day.

The documentary compellingly illustrates that the catastrophic response was the result of a confluence of factors beyond any single individual’s control. These included common human errors, lapses in judgment, systemic failures in coordination, and critical breakdowns in communication across all levels of law enforcement. Compounding these issues was inadequate or entirely absent officer training for mass shooting scenarios, which directly conflicted with the protocols that teachers and students had been trained to follow.

Having watched the documentary multiple times in the process of this analysis, I find that it effectively highlights the key factors contributing to the widely perceived inaction of officers at the scene. I also commend the publishers and journalists for providing these officers the opportunity to publicly articulate their experiences and offer sincere explanations regarding their actions — or lack thereof — during the crisis. Given the intense public scrutiny and the severe professional and personal consequences they have faced, this opportunity for them to share their perspectives is particularly significant.

My motivation for contributing this additional analysis stems from my academic background in psychology, with a research focus on mass shootings and gun violence prevention. From this perspective, I could not help but identify numerous psychological and situational factors that may have further contributed to the systemic failure in this high-stakes moment. Moreover, with several members of my own family serving in law enforcement, I have long understood that such failures are rarely attributable solely to individual incompetence, cowardice, or negligence. Instead, they often emerge from complex psychological, structural, and situational dynamics that merit deeper understanding.

Furthermore, this examination aims to demonstrate that, regardless of how one believes law enforcement should have reacted, officers on the scene were subject to the same psychological and situational limitations as any other individuals in a high-pressure crisis. Through this detailed study, this analysis seeks to provide a more profound understanding of the psychological and systemic failures that contributed to the response. By doing so, it aims to foster a deeper discussion on how law enforcement can be better prepared for crisis situations in the future.

Many of the critical mistakes made that day were not necessarily the fault of individual officers but rather the result of systemic failures, inadequate preparation, and poor coordination. This analysis will build upon the findings of investigative reports by reviewing the sequence of events, analyzing interviews with officers featured in the documentary, and exploring potential psychological factors that may have contributed to the overall breakdown of the response. Additionally, a comprehensive timeline of the shooting will be utilized to further contextualize key moments, alongside relevant research on law enforcement decision-making in crisis situations.

The events at Robb Elementary School began when the gunman crashed his grandmother’s pickup truck — after shooting her in the face and stealing the vehicle — into a drainage ditch just outside the school building at 11:28 a.m. Two men working at the funeral home across the street approached the scene to investigate. The gunman then opened fire on them, forcing them to retreat to their establishment. A teacher who witnessed the events was the first to call 911, initially reporting that an “accident” had occurred outside the school. When the teacher in question saw the two men fleeing, she shouted, “Oh my God, they’re running. I don’t know why.” Upon seeing the gunman more clearly, she panicked and exclaimed, “Oh my God, he has a gun!” before the call abruptly ended. The dispatcher relayed this information to the police, reporting a car accident outside Robb Elementary involving a pickup truck and a driver who was armed and firing at people.

The sequence of events that contributed to the heavily criticized police response to this shooting began with the initial 911 call. The first person to contact emergency services described what they had witnessed as an “accident” outside the building, noting that the driver possessed a firearm and was shooting at two individuals. The call likely ended abruptly as the witness, a teacher, retreated in panic when the gunman advanced toward her and the school. Consequently, both the dispatcher and responding officers interpreted the situation at face value. As a result, the first officers on the scene believed they were responding to a vehicular accident occurring near the school rather than an active shooter situation.

Police Sergeant Eduardo Canales later clarified in an interview that when he and other first responders arrived, witnesses outside the school informed them that the shooter had entered the building. However, because there were no immediate sounds of gunfire, he initially assumed the gunman was attempting to hide rather than actively attacking. Similarly, Lieutenant Javier Martinez, another first responder, initially believed the incident to be a road rage dispute. He recalled, “I had no idea what I was walking into. We actually thought we were going to an accident scene… what I thought was an accident, and they’re shooting at each other… road rage.” This assumption was reasonable, given that the shooter had crashed his vehicle just minutes prior to opening fire on two individuals who had approached to assist him.

Thus, when the first officers arrived at the school, they were still operating under the assumption that they were handling a traffic incident. They were entirely unaware that they were walking into an active shooter scenario and were therefore inadequately equipped. Officers responding to a reported accident do not typically arrive armed for tactical engagement with a heavily armed assailant. As a result, valuable minutes were lost as they attempted to assess the unfolding crisis. Furthermore, the teacher’s initial 911 call did not specify that the shooter was armed with an AR-15, a critical omission that might have signaled the need for advanced protective gear and immediate tactical response. Consequently, the delay in response was not solely due to incompetence or negligence but was significantly influenced by miscommunication between the teacher, the dispatcher, and the responding officers.

Upon approaching the school’s entrance, officers were immediately met with the sound of gunfire and the sight of smoke and gunpowder filling the hallways — details they relayed over the radio before proceeding inside. By this time, two minutes had elapsed since the gunman had entered the building and begun his attack. As officers attempted to advance toward the classrooms where the shooting was taking place, the gunman fired additional rounds. The bullets caused shrapnel from the door to graze the officers, forcing them to retreat. It was at this moment that they fully grasped the extent of the threat: they were not up against a standard handgun or pistol but rather a high-powered semiautomatic rifle designed for military use.

Statistical analysis of mass shootings reveals that nearly 67% of such incidents last five minutes or less, with 37% concluding within three minutes. Law enforcement experts emphasize that the first few minutes of an active shooter situation are the most critical for intervention and life-saving measures. However, in this case, an overwhelming focus has been placed on the officers’ delayed response during the 77-minute ordeal. In reality, the majority of the victims had likely already succumbed to fatal injuries within the first two and a half minutes — during which the gunman discharged over 100 rounds into the two adjoining classrooms. Studies examining police response times in mass shootings indicate that for victims with critical neurological injuries, the probability of survival without medical intervention declines by 7–10% per minute, leaving only a 4–5 minute window in which medical treatment could be effective. Given these circumstances, it is unlikely that any lives could have been saved by the time officers even arrived on the scene.

Additionally, because officers initially responded to what they believed was a vehicular accident near the school, they were neither equipped nor prepared to engage an assailant wielding an AR-15. Without the necessary tactical gear, they had no viable means of stopping the shooter or saving lives. In fact, had they attempted to confront the gunman without adequate protection, they likely would have only increased the overall death toll. A blunt yet necessary question arises: what benefit would have come from adding fallen officers to the list of casualties? Who, then, would have been left to assess the situation, call for reinforcements, or facilitate the evacuation of surviving children and staff? It is unrealistic to expect officers to protect others when they lack the means to protect themselves.

As Officer Justin Mendoza explained in the documentary, one of the primary reasons for the officers’ hesitation in breaching the classroom was the absence of appropriate protective equipment — both for themselves and for potential survivors. Furthermore, he noted that none of the responding officers had ever faced a situation of this magnitude and were wholly unprepared for such an encounter. Corporal Gregory Villa underscored this point, stating that no standard police-issued equipment could withstand a bullet from an AR-15. He emphasized that had they entered unprotected, the gunman would have, “taken [them] out like butter.The AR-15’s immense firepower lies in the velocity of its bullets, which can be fired in rapid succession — often at a rate of 30 to 100 rounds in seconds. A single .223 bullet is capable of catastrophic damage, shattering skulls and liquefying vital organs, with the effects being even more devastating on the small bodies of children. The sheer speed of the projectile is a key factor in its lethality; a .223 round can travel the length of six football fields in a single second. Detective Louis Landry Jr. later reflected that the lack of immediate action was not due to negligence but rather to the reality that engaging a suspect armed with such a weapon without proper equipment would have resulted in even more casualties. He further noted that had the assailant been armed with a pistol instead of an AR-15, the officers’ response might have been markedly different.…

Given the circumstances, the most viable strategy for saving lives during the ordeal was to contain the shooter within the rooms he had entered until officers could obtain better equipment and additional backup. Officers explained that their objective in containing the shooter was to prevent him from moving between rooms, which could have resulted in further loss of control and additional casualties.

A significant setback in the police response occurred when several officers, including Chief Arredondo, were unable to establish radio signals inside the building. Upon stepping outside and successfully re-establishing communication, Arredondo relayed that the shooter had been “barricaded” and “contained.” However, much like the first teacher who called 911 to report the incident, Arredondo conveyed only part of the situation when requesting backup. By describing the suspect as “barricaded” and “contained,” he inadvertently contributed to a critical miscommunication. These terms led incoming officers to perceive the situation as a barricaded-subject scenario rather than an active shooter event. Consequently, the arriving officers were inadequately prepared, believing they were responding to a situation in which the gunman was alone in a room without victims.

The frequent miscommunications can largely be attributed to two factors: the effects of adrenaline and the lack of situational awareness that should have indicated an active school shooting. Both the teacher who initially reported the incident and Arredondo, when calling for backup, were technically accurate in their descriptions. The event did begin as a car accident on school grounds, and the shooter was indeed barricaded in a classroom. However, the overwhelming stress of the situation impaired critical thinking and hindered effective communication. Adrenaline, while sometimes life-saving, can also induce a “fight or flight” response that impairs decision-making and the ability to execute complex tasks.

Common-sense indicators that should have signaled an ongoing active shooter situation were largely overlooked. These indicators included the presence of injured or deceased individuals, visible blood, and the sounds of screaming or pleas for help. While one might assume that gunfire within a school would be an unmistakable sign of an active shooter scenario, the officers’ judgment was clouded by both adrenaline and the fragmented information they initially received. Many still operated under the belief that this was a barricaded-subject situation with no casualties. One officer interviewed stated that he initially believed they were dealing with “a smuggler” (given Uvalde’s proximity to the Texas border) who had locked himself in a room and was firing shots into the air to deter law enforcement. Others assumed it was a road rage incident or another form of barricaded suspect scenario.

Further complicating the response was the eerie silence and darkness in the classrooms. Corporal Villa noted that, in such a scenario, one would typically expect visible panic, particularly given the young age of the victims. The absence of screaming or other distress signals, combined with the fact that the school year was nearing its end, led many officers to assume that students were either elsewhere or not present at all.

This disconnect ultimately highlighted the most critical failure of the entire response: the vast discrepancy between the active shooter training protocols followed by students and teachers versus those followed by law enforcement. Investigations revealed that the reason for the silence, darkness, and lack of visible movement was that the students and faculty were adhering precisely to the protocols taught in post-Columbine active shooter drills. These drills instruct students and teachers to remain absolutely silent, turn off lights, and hide in designated areas within classrooms or school buildings.

Conversely, officers had not received comparable training — if they had received any at all — to recognize or adapt to these school-specific protocols. Officer Ruby Gonzalez stated that the active shooter training among responding officers varied widely, with some having undergone training years prior or not at all. Sergeant Donald Page further underscored the inadequacy of law enforcement training, explaining that his instruction consisted merely of entering and clearing an open classroom. He noted that he was never trained for contingencies such as encountering a locked door. “How they train you is: classroom door is open, you go in, clear it, come out.” He goes on to elaborate on the fact that he was never trained on what to do in a variety of different active shooter scenarios, such as what to do if the door is locked. Additionally, his training for handling barricaded subjects and hostage situations emphasized a deliberate, measured response: securing necessary resources and breaching only if the incident escalated into an active shooter scenario. Unfortunately, this protocol proved disastrously inappropriate for the situation at hand.

While there is no clear consensus on the optimal amount of training required to effectively handle active shooter situations, experts emphasize the necessity of repetition. Even with frequent and consistent training, there is no absolute guarantee that officers will always respond correctly. However, such training remains the best means of improving law enforcement responses to active shootings. According to John Curnutt, assistant director at Texas State University’s Advanced Law Enforcement Rapid Response Training Center — recognized as the national standard by the FBI — training must be ingrained to the point of becoming instinctive and habitual. He explains, “It has to be really driven into somebody to the point where it becomes instinctive, habitual. […] Before you really get a chance to think about it, you’re already doing it. And it takes more than 10 or 11 times to get that good at something like this that is going to be incredibly difficult to do when you know that, ‘I’m about to die, but I’m going to do this anyway.’ Who thinks like that? Not everybody. We know that. Not everybody that’s in uniform does.”

Despite the critical need for such preparation, few laws mandate active shooter training for law enforcement officers. In contrast, there are significantly more training laws requiring schools to prepare students and teachers for mass shootings than there are for the officers tasked with responding to them. At least 37 states mandate the implementation and frequent rehearsal of active shooter drills, with 33 requiring these drills to occur annually. In stark contrast, only Texas and Michigan require all police academy graduates to undergo this type of training. Following the Uvalde massacre, Texas enacted the nation’s most stringent officer training mandate, requiring a minimum of 16 hours of active shooter response training every two years.

While Chief Arredondo was thought by many officers to be in charge, he did not see himself as such. He had subsequently resigned from his position in the wake of this event for his failure to fulfill the duty of incident commander. It had only contributed to the overall confusion of who was supposed to be the one in charge when the fact that so many different law enforcement agencies were deployed to the school to assist in the response, each department having their own person in charge as well as their own protocols for how to respond to an active shooting. None of these officers could figure out how to work together on resolving an issue that nobody understands, let alone how to control and manage it.

It is easy to place blame solely on the officers who responded that day, but the failures were deeply rooted in systemic shortcomings that predated the incident. According to The Texas Tribune, while Uvalde represents a particularly egregious example of a failed police response, it is neither the only one nor the worst in terms of response time or casualties. For instance, during the 2016 Pulse Nightclub shooting in Orlando, police took nearly three hours to neutralize the gunman despite knowing hostages were being killed. Similarly, Scot Peterson, the armed school resource officer present during the 2018 Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting in Parkland, Florida, was recently acquitted after facing 17 counts of child endangerment and neglect. Peterson had remained outside the building while the shooter killed 17 people. These cases, among others, illustrate long-standing deficiencies in law enforcement responses to mass shootings.

Beyond public scrutiny, the officers who were present at Uvalde continue to grapple with profound grief, shame, and guilt. Their sorrow is compounded by the belief that they are not entitled to mourn the tragedy themselves. This emotional burden was evident in Sergeant Coronado’s interview, in which he broke down while recounting the fear on the children’s faces as they were evacuated. Apologizing for his emotional response, he admitted he had never cried about that moment until then.

Too often, the focus remains on the lives lost rather than those saved. While it took 77 minutes for officers to neutralize the shooter, they managed to contain him within the classrooms within just four minutes, preventing him from moving through the school and claiming more victims. In an ideal scenario, officers would have immediately recognized that the school was in session and prioritized evacuating students and staff. However, once they became aware of civilians inside, they acted swiftly, breaking windows and physically catching children as they escaped. Yet, as my mother often says, “You can save 99 lives, but the one life you don’t save is the one they’ll never let you forget.” This sentiment likely resonates deeply within the law enforcement community.

Chantelle Moore
Chantelle Moore

Written by Chantelle Moore

I am an undergraduate psychology student at Harvard University, who is also studying continuing education courses at the University of Oxford and Cambridge.

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