On a typical day, the Risbergska educational center in Orebro, Sweden, would be thrumming with students gathering to attend construction and child care classes and Swedish language instruction for immigrants.
On Wednesday, a day after a mass shooting left at least 11 people dead and sent shock waves throughout Sweden, the school was empty as the community tried to come to terms with the violence. Some still waited for news of their loved ones’ fate; the police had not released the identities of the victims, or the shooter.
“These people who were killed here yesterday, they had dreams to become doctors, nurses, engineers, plumbers or something else,” said Shams Ulqamar Andesh, standing outside the campus where he had spent four years learning Swedish.
A university town with a 13th-century castle, Orebro has a population of 160,000. In recent years it has become home to immigrants from 165 countries, according to the municipality’s website.
The Risbergska educational center, which caters to about 2,000 students and offers vocational classes and lessons for adults studying for a high school diploma, had become a key resource for newly arrived immigrants, those gathered there on Wednesday said.
Mr. Andesh, 42, moved to Sweden from Afghanistan in 2012. His time at the educational center had helped him land a job as a truck driver for the national postal service, and his wife became a nurses’ aide after attending classes there.
“It was my school,” he said.
Mr. Andesh was among the handful of residents and former students placing flowers and candles on the sidewalk or staring at the building that is now at the center of what Sweden’s leaders have described as the worst mass shooting in the country’s history.
The police had cordoned off the campus with blue and white tape to keep the public away from what is now a crime scene under investigation, and several officers were standing guard around the yellow brick building.
Mr. Andesh said a close family friend had been rushed to a nearby hospital after being shot in the attack. “We’re waiting to hear from her doctor what happens next,” he said.
Hellen Werme, 35, said she was in nursing class learning how to insert a catheter when she heard the first shot — and initially thought it was “just a door slamming.”
“A few seconds later we heard two more shots, and then more and more,” she said Wednesday. “And then we understood that this was not a door, but a shooting.”
She said a teacher shouted for them to lock the door and hide. The adult students huddled beneath desks and hospital beds used for training; Ms. Werme said they stayed there for over two hours, crying and comforting each other.
“Either we’re going to get shot or someone will come and save us,” she recalled thinking. As they hid, Ms. Werme said, her thoughts moved between her two young children and classmates who had become like family.
On Wednesday, six of her classmates were still missing. Ms. Werme, who was unharmed, returned to the school to find out what happened.
“We must find our friends,” she said outside the building.
Kathryn and Lars Banck’s younger son, who has Down syndrome, takes special education classes at the school and was scheduled to attend an English class at the campus on Tuesday, but it was canceled before the attack. Their older son had attended the school when it was a high school.
“It’s tragic,” Ms. Banck, 72, a Boston native, said as she laid candle outside the school. “It’s just like the U.S.A.”
As Sweden faces one of the European Union’s highest per capita rates of gun violence, Orebro has seen an increase in it, too — along with the public debate it has prompted in Sweden.
“You just don’t expect this of the Sweden that used to be,” said Vladimir Cerda, a father of three who lives in a suburb of Orebro. “It’s not going to take long before we have metal detectors and security guards in schools in Sweden.”
Rolf Lidskog, who teaches sociology at Orebro University, said in a telephone interview that in his more than 40 years living there, he has seen the city — which is 120 miles west of Stockholm — grow to become wealthier and more diverse, but also more unequal and segregated.
Mr. Lidskog said the city’s residents had also become more open to tougher policing and security measures.
The authorities have not determined the attacker’s motive, but Mr. Lidskog said he had felt some relief after police reports suggested that the attacker was likely a lone wolf rather than part of a gang — a sign that the deadly violence might be an isolated episode.
“Maybe it could be just a very, very sad memory,” he said.
