Firefighter who saved boy’s life drove him home to Sutherland Springs

SUTHERLAND SPRINGS — The bloody and bullet-scarred First Baptist Church of Sutherland Springs was deathly quiet when Rusty Duncan, a firefighter with the Stockdale Volunteer Fire Department, became one of the first rescuers inside.
People — some dead, some wounded, some too terrified to speak — were hiding under and between the pews.

“I was just checking for survivors, and I felt a little tug on my pant leg,” said Duncan, of that Sunday, Nov. 5, when gunman Devin Kelley shot and killed 26 people and wounded 20 others. “I had no idea what it was. I looked down and a little hand was coming from under somebody.”

Ryland Ward had been shot five times and was beneath his stepmother, Joann Ward, who died protecting him. An ambulance rushed Ryland, a survivor of the worst mass shooting in Texas history, to the intensive care unit at San Antonio’s University Hospital. .

On Thursday, after more than two months of surgeries and medical procedures, 6-year-old Ryland got a ride home and was met by a crowd of about 50 people, news media included, who knew he had come to symbolize recovery and hope, strength and faith in the still-traumatized community.
Some held signs welcoming him, others waved Texas flags or hoisted balloons at a highway intersection near the crime scene and roadside memorial.

Local resident Terrie Smith was overcome with tears of joy as sirens and horn blasts signaled the arrival of the long procession of fire trucks and police vehicles.
“I was his mama’s best friend and he’s like a grandson to me,” said Smith, 55. “It’s just a beautiful blessing from God to have him home and well.”

“This little boy is proof that Texans stand strong for each other,” said Shannon Demski, 45, of nearby LaVernia, who used her smart phone to track the convoy’s progress from San Antonio.
Another LaVernia resident, Terri Adams, 52, saw providence at work.
“He suffered a great injury but he remained strong and has recovered beyond what anyone expected,” she said. “I believe our prayers have been answered.”

Local resident Melissa Salinas said the return was an emotional boost to the community.
“After the two months that we’ve been through, with all of the depression and trying to cope with what happened, this is a big deal for us,” she said. “It’s an opening for a new beginning.”
Her daughter, Vivian Salinas, 6, recalled past antics of a goofy “Ry Ry,” while brandishing a large sign that said, “Good To See You.”

Cheers erupted as Ryland waved from the front seat of the lead fire truck slowly turning from U.S. 87 south to FM 539. It stopped momentarily, then entered the last leg of his journey home. At the wheel was Duncan, the man who saved his life.
Ryland’s biological mother and father declined interviews. His great-uncle, Earl McMahan, said news that the boy would be out of the hospital and able “to get his life back to as normal as possible” gave him “really an overwhelming feeling of joy.”

Ryland became something of a sensation in the hospital. Through social media, his family asked for donations to buy a go-kart — and raised enough and then some within weeks. When Ryland asked for Christmas cards, his family spread the word and more than 1,000 poured in from the world over.

Photos his family members posted on Facebook of the blonde-haired boy, reading a book or giggling at the camera from his hospital bed, were shared thousands of times.

“He couldn’t wait to get out the hospital. People at the hospital were nice and everything, but he turned 6 years old and had Christmas in there, and he just wanted to get out and get back to being a kid,” McMahan said.

The hospital released a statement noting it had treated nine victims of the attack — one of them, a child, died there — while Brooke Army Medical Center had treated eight. Ryland was the last patient released.

“Many of us at University Health System who have been touched by the strength and spirit of Ryland and the other Sutherland Springs patients celebrate this milestone with them and their families,” a system spokeswoman, Leni Kirkman, said.

The convoy - which expanded as more participants joined at locations along the route - topped 100 vehicles and included fire trucks and other emergency vehicles from agencies in Wilson and Bexar counties, including some from the City of San Antonio.

“He’s one happy little boy right now. He got to ride in a fire truck and talk on the radio and he was a captain for the day,” Edwin Baker, chief of the Stockdale Volunteer Fire Department and Wilson County’s fire marshal, said afterward.
“He was a little bit overwhelmed by the enormity of it, but he’s very ecstatic to be home,” Baker said.

The Wards used to live in a five-bedroom, three-bath house, said Sandy Ward, Ryland’s grandmother. But she said Chris Ward, Ryland’s father, doesn’t want to go back there. They were once a family of six. Now they’re a family of three: Ryland, Chris and Rihanna Garcia, who survived after a bullet glanced off her glasses.

Sandy Ward and her husband Raymond Ward have been scrambling to get a small rental trailer just outside La Vernia ready.

“I can’t even express it. I’m so happy I just can’t wait for it,” Sandy Ward said minutes before Ryland’s release from the hospital. “It’s going to make him and Chris so happy, so that makes me happy.”
An extraordinary bond has formed between Ryland and Duncan.

When Duncan first saw the boy after the massacre, he was coming out of his room in a red wagon the hospital had provided for him, with monitors hooked up to the end of it.
“I asked if he knew who I was,” Duncan said.

And for the second time in his life, Ryland reached his hand out to Duncan.
“We just left it at that, and just kind of stared at each other,” he said.

“They stared at each other for what seemed like eternity, though it was probably a few minutes,” McMahan said. “I don’t think there was a dry eye in the lobby.”

On Nov. 5, ambulances had wailed in the distance as Duncan carried Ryland’s limp form out of the church. None had yet arrived and Duncan remembers staring into the boy’s eyes during that walk, willing him not to close them.
“The whole time I was with him, he was conscious and staring up at me. The whole time,” Duncan said. “He had real glassy eyes.”

He placed Ryland on the ground and began cutting off his clothes. An arriving ambulance crew tossed him a medical bag so he could apply a tourniquet. They lifted him into the ambulance.
Duncan prayed. Then he turned back to the church.

He helped other people that day, but there was something about Ryland and his eyes — “He was just the first one,” Duncan said. “He’s the one I remember the most.”