In the days since the operation, Alex’s name has become a symbol of both heartbreak and quiet heroism. At the VA hospital where he worked, coworkers remember the way he stayed late without being asked, the way anxious patients relaxed when he walked into a room. Friends talk about camping trips, dry jokes, and how he always checked in on people who said they were “fine” but clearly weren’t. His death feels, to many, like a tear in the fabric of the city itself.

As investigations move forward, residents are balancing anger with a determination not to lose sight of who Alex was. Vigils, handwritten notes, and small acts of kindness done in his memory are reshaping the narrative from one of only violence and loss to one of legacy. Whatever the final reports conclude, people here are choosing to honor him through compassion, accountability, and a renewed insistence that every life, and every operation, must be treated with care.