On a typical day, the Risbergska educational center in the Swedish city of Orebro would be thrumming with students gathering to attend classes in subjects like construction, child care and Swedish 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 came to terms with the violence and some waited for news of their loved ones’ fate.
“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.
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 who gathered near the school, placing flowers and candles on the sidewalk or staring at the building that is now 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.
A university town with a 13th-century castle, Orebro is 120 miles west of Stockholm and about 180 miles from Oslo, the capital of neighboring Norway. In recent years, Orebro, with a population of 160,000, 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 foundational for newly arrived immigrants, those gathered there on Wednesday said.
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.
“We have had lots of incidents,” Mr. Banck said. “But nothing of this magnitude.”
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 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.
