A mass shooting struck our community. The rumors came after.

Last Friday, all eyes turned to our little corner of the Rockies for one of the worst reasons imaginable: yet another mass shooting in the United States. This time, someone walked into a bar in Anaconda, Mont., and opened fire on the morning regulars, killing four, including the bartender. The shooter–presumed to be Michael Brown, a veteran with a checkered mental health history who lived next door–escaped into the nearby mountains, sparking a fierce regional manhunt. Despite mutual aid from neighboring counties as well as state and federal multi-agency support, five days later, the search for Brown remains ongoing. There’s no lockdown now, but we’re all under advisement to be vigilant. We can expect police presence in the surrounding areas to increase visibly as they pursue tips and interviews, according to the most recent releases.

It’s peak tourist season here in western Montana, and if I had not already been on deck to host a large family gathering, I would have been among those out covering these events personally. As I draft this, news is breaking of the next public shooting of the week, an attack in Fort Stewart, Ga. So far, it appears that incident will have a happier ending than many mass shootings, with the accused in custody and injuries reported but no deaths. Less than a week into August, six people have died and 30 have been shot in mass gun violence episodes across the nation.

So much has already been said about the people who died, the close communities they hailed from, the systemic failures that may have affected Brown and others, and the deep emotions and political frustrations behind America’s continuous, disturbing battle with public violence. Watching the media communications attempts from law enforcement and government officials in addressing this mass shooting crisis has only emphasized for me that when communities are actively grappling with the aftermath of unspeakable shared tragedy, human sensitivity has to come first. It’s a role that can neither be left for the rumor mill to run amok nor covered by artificial intelligence.

In the past few days, I’ve observed law enforcement and television reporters alike reading canned or garbled statements that were inaccessible to Deaf viewers and barely audible for anyone else. I’ve lost track of the well-intentioned but completely incorrect social posts circulating misinformation (rumors spanning everything from a second shooter to a second shooting with more casualties spread within hours), the press conferences that desperately needed a media liaison in charge, and the comments from local residents stating that since no one official had reached out to them directly, they were still receiving all of their information about the case, search area closures, and general safety information from Facebook. Anaconda’s own city-county government (it is one of two such joint conventions statewide) did not immediately take the lead on communications, so in the earliest days of the investigation, many residents and guests within the tri-county area either went without or had to search social pages in neighboring towns for updates.

While vital to securing cooperation from an increasingly restless population, public relations work takes an entirely different soft skill set than the investigative and physical search labor happening in the field. The contrast becomes especially clear when investigators try to run their own press conferences without enough help, including both media expertise and tech support. When we have been receiving formal updates, they’ve often been curt, delivered with no openings for questions or follow-up. It’s clear that the agents and officers searching for Mike Brown are physically and emotionally exhausted. Because of the stresses they’re already enduring, the primary effort to keep communication lines open with locals really belongs on someone else’s plate. Anaconda doesn’t normally have the need for media relations expertise at this scale; it’s understandable that this extreme situation caught people horribly off guard. Ensuring the availability of background support for agencies coping with these kinds of emergencies is only possible if we’re all willing to provide our state and local governments with adequate resources and guidance to support public communication.

Also this week came the devastating announcement that the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, perhaps best known as a backer of PBS, was soon to be shuttered. Massive cuts to the funding that has historically enabled broadcasts in rural and economically underserved communities are slashing away at the availability of local news and emergency alert systems in these areas. Therein lies the problem. Even in the internet age, we cannot expect accurate, rapid, high-quality updates from either public broadcasters or public servants if we’re not willing to prioritize access to those services, including funding them in any meaningful way.

Our country is positively dripping with tech opportunities that could support trust-building in public-government relationships, but we aren’t going to get anywhere without first acknowledging that we are dealing with essential human questions seeking human understanding. On top of that, if we want these situations to improve, we have to look at investing real resources in fostering that dynamic. Public information access is a hugely important legal right, but it’s one that easily falls through the institutional cracks if no one takes care of it.

Note: If you don’t patronize bars or use GoFundMe but would still like to support the survivors most affected by this mass shooting event directly, we’re told an account has been opened at First Montana Bank, 123 Main St., Anaconda, MT 59711. Please mark checks to the “Owl Bar Victims Memorial Fund.” Thank you.