‘Have faith’: At vigil, crowd grieves — and hopes
Martin Langesfeld held the microphone at his chest, speaking softly in the faint glow of colored lights on Surfside’s beach Monday night.
A few hundred people stood and sat before him. They leaned on each other, held hands, and looked down as Langesfeld spoke about faith, confusion and pain all at once. His sister, Nicole Langesfeld, and her husband, Louis Sadovnic, have not been found in the rubble following the collapse of Champlain Towers South.
“We don’t know what’s happening,” Langesfeld said. “We don’t know why this happened. … I just ask that we all keep strength and have faith. Miracles do happen.”
A few blocks away from the bright lights and heavy equipment of the search and rescue operation, people quietly reflected during a vigil organized by Leo Soto, one of Nicole Langesfeld’s friends, with help from the Four Seasons Hotel at The Surf Club and the Miami Heat.
Soto told the crowd — made up of Surfside neighbors, families and friends of those missing — that he took comfort in the outpouring of support. He believes the trauma will leave a scar in the community forever.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be the same,” he said.
A couple led a guided meditation, set to the subtle drone of a quartz singing bowl. A woman quietly wept. Families sat crosslegged, eyes closed. Coach Erik Spoelstra knelt quietly, head down, a few feet away from Miami-Dade Mayor Daniella Levine Cava, grew emotional during the reflection. Strangers hugged and checked in on each other, asking each other if they were OK.
For some, it was a moment to grieve. A woman was led away from the group as she sobbed, held by her loved ones. Several formed a circle on the sand and held hands as she cried.
A few dozen walked to a makeshift memorial Soto created one block away from the wreckage of the collapse. Andres Castaneda stood in front a photograph of 11-year-old Lucia Guara, her sister Emma and their parents, Marcu and Ana. Late Monday, Marcus was identified as one of the victims pulled from the rubble on Saturday. The rest of the family is still missing.
Castaneda’s daughter Manuela was among a group of girls gathered at the memorial for their friends. She’s been friends with Lucia for six years.
The Champlain was where the girls and their families had birthday parties, barbecues and beach days.
“We were just there a few weeks ago,” Castaneda said, nodding toward what was left of the Champlain. “The girls had a party to celebrate the end of the school year. They didn’t get to do that last year.”
The girls hugged each other while crying and laughing, memories and mourning muddled together.
“They’re up and down every day,” Castaneda said. He said the sound of sirens triggered his daughter on Sunday.
“Is it happening again?” she’d asked him.
Back on the beach, people propped up white roses in the sand in between white glowsticks in a pattern etched on the shore.
“Hope.”