When they didn’t know what else to do, the neighbors set up a table with Goldfish crackers and two kinds of blue Gatorade.

Chris Comfort had heard the sirens wailing toward Apalachee High School and the middle school and preschool next door after 10 a.m. local time. Then the news started to trickle in—text chains, local news, CNN—of gunfire at the high school, kids in lockdown. Helicopters were soon flying overhead.

By noon, regular cars, trucks and SUVs had begun to line up on Haymon Morris Road, the main thoroughfare to and from campus. But they were moving at a snail’s pace, their brake lights flashing red.

Some turned onto the side street of Comfort and parked two cars deep. Others, not willing to face the traffic jams, began walking—trudging a mile, often more, under a blazing sun in the hope of confirming that their worst fears were not true.

By mid-afternoon, neighbors had been “bringing water and snacks for hours.”

They had water, sports drinks, granola bars, bags of applesauce, crackers with cheese and peanut butter, gummies, and cold watermelon cubes.

They worked in shifts to distribute the groceries, mainly to walkers, but also to drivers who passed by on the road.

One neighbor, identified only as Chris, was with her 15-year-old daughter, Geaux, a homeschooled 10th grader who spends a lot of time with neighborhood, sports and church kids who attend Apalachee High.

Some of those children walked back past the snack table with their parents.

“It’s noon and they haven’t eaten since breakfast,” Chris said of many.

“There were a couple of kids who hadn’t eaten since last night because they didn’t have time for breakfast this morning. They were on their way to school,” Geaux said.

“It’s hot,” the teen added. “And it’s scary.”