Friends and relatives gathered at a motel in downtown Orlando waiting for news about loved ones who were at the club where a mass shooting left at least 50 people killed and 53 injured. (Amanda Voisard for the Washington Post)

By Hayley Tsukayama, Katie Zezima and Ariana Eunjung Cha

ORLANDO — During the biggest mass shooting on U.S. soil, Jeffrey Rodriguez reached out to his brother through a text message: “I’m bleeding so much and I don’t think I’m going to make it. Call mom and dad and tell them I love them.”

He was in a group of about 15, he wrote, hiding in a bathroom while a friend, a physician’s assistant, tended to his wounds.

It was the last time his family heard from him, and on Sunday evening his mother, Mary Ann Rodriguez, was among the dozens of family members of the missing at a holding area at the Hampton Inn and Suites in downtown Orlando waiting for news.

“His name hasn’t been called,” Rodriguez said. “We don’t know if it’s because he’s had surgery or because they can’t ID him. We’re just praying for the best.”

After the devastating attack at a gay nightclub in Orlando, the process of identifying victims and getting news to their families has been agonizingly slow. Authorities said 50 people were killed and an additional 53 injured, but as of Sunday evening they were only able to publicly confirm seven of the dead, leaving many friends and relatives anxious and emotional.

All those identified so far by Orlando officials were men in their 20s and 30s: Stanley Almodovar III, 23; Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22; Juan Ramon Guerrero, 22; Luis Omar Ocasio-Capo, 20; Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36; Luis S. Vielma, 22; and Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34.

Almodovar, of Clermont, worked as pharmacy technician. His cousin, Ivelisse Santiago, described Almodovar as “kind but sassy,” someone who was confident in his sexual identity and able to help others find their place in the gay community. He was a fierce advocate for his friends, she said, recalling how he defended her one night when they were out dancing and she fell, drawing jeers.

“He was so proud of who he was,” she said.

Sotomayor, who went by Eddie and lived in Sarasota, was a national brand manager at AlandChuck.travel, a popular gay travel agency. Al Ferguson, owner of the company, posted a video on Facebook of Sotomayor and a friend making silly faces at the Pulse nightclub that they sent to him 23 minutes before the attack.

After the devastating attack at a gay nightclub in Orlando, the process of identifying victims and getting news to their families has been agonizingly slow. Authorities said 50 people were killed and an additional 53 injured, but as of Sunday evening they were only able to publicly confirm seven of the dead, leaving many friends and relatives anxious and emotional.

All those identified so far by Orlando officials were men in their 20s and 30s: Stanley Almodovar III, 23; Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22; Juan Ramon Guerrero, 22; Luis Omar Ocasio-Capo, 20; Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36; Luis S. Vielma, 22; and Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34.

Almodovar, of Clermont, worked as pharmacy technician. His cousin, Ivelisse Santiago, described Almodovar as “kind but sassy,” someone who was confident in his sexual identity and able to help others find their place in the gay community. He was a fierce advocate for his friends, she said, recalling how he defended her one night when they were out dancing and she fell, drawing jeers.

“He was so proud of who he was,” she said.

Sotomayor, who went by Eddie and lived in Sarasota, was a national brand manager at AlandChuck.travel, a popular gay travel agency. Al Ferguson, owner of the company, posted a video on Facebook of Sotomayor and a friend making silly faces at the Pulse nightclub that they sent to him 23 minutes before the attack.

Members of Orlando’s gay community were particularly shaken, with some saying that more than a dozen of their friends were still unaccounted for.

“I would have thought it was the safest place I could go to,” said Enakai Mpire, who has performed at Pulse but was not there Saturday night.

At the medical center, about 45 people were gathered outside on a day with temperatures in the mid-80s. The hospital was only letting two family members go inside at a time. Occasionally, people came out with tears streaming down their faces. One woman was on the ground, moaning “No!” over and over again, until her family led her away. Many who were waiting brought water to share, and there was a lot of crying and hugging as people recognized newcomers to the crowd.

Joannette Martinez had been waiting at the hospital for information about her 24-year-old sister, Yilnary, since 7 a.m. Joannette said it was her sister’s first time at the club — a celebration because her brother-in-law was in town.

“No one’s told us anything,” Martinez said, sitting on the sidewalk with her back against the building, and another family member resting her head in Martinez’s lap.

Amanda Elder in Orlando and Isaac Stanley-Becker in Washington contributed to this report. Cha reported from Washington.

Source: The Washington Post