ROSEBURG, Ore. — One by one, the congregants of the Liberty Christian Fellowship took the microphone on Sunday, steadied their breaths and told stories of how a gunman’s rampage inside the community college here rippled through their lives.

Dan Silvaz, his voice shaking, recalled how his daughter Daniela had frantically called from just outside Snyder Hall to say she heard gunshots and did not know where to go. Run and hide and pray, he told her. A bus driver named Steve Kekes remembered dropping off one of the victims, Sarena Dawn Moore, on campus that morning. And Jaime Standley, a college student, cried as she remembered a spray of gunfire erupting from next door, and how her classmate Chris Mintz rushed to bar the door.

“We’re too small, we’re too close,” said Dale Dickson, the pastor here, as he stood in front of a “Pray for Roseburg” banner. “We know everybody. We have a connection.”

It is a cliché of small towns that everybody knows everybody. But in the wake of a shooting that killed nine people on the campus of Umpqua Community College on Thursday, nearly every person in this close-knit lumber town of 22,000 in the shadow of the Cascade mountains in western Oregon seems to know a victim or is related to someone who fled from gunfire that day. Everyone, it seems, has a terrible, personal story to tell.