Time moves on, but the memories last forever.

Gun deer hunting season in northern Wisconsin routinely resurrects the sadness of Nov. 21, 2004, when six people with Rice Lake ties were killed and two others wounded in the Sawyer County woods.

Chai Soua Vang, a hunter and reported military sharpshooter from St. Paul, will die in prison for the murders.

The tragedy has emotionally scarred hunters, the Rice Lake community and the public in general. It brought racial and safety concerns that still linger.

It also brought about a mental solidarity that life is more important than a deer, a disagreement, a misconception and a derogatory comment.

It’s been a decade since Bob Crotteau, Joey Crotteau, Denny Drew, Al Laski, Mark Roidt and Jessica Willers were killed by Chai Soua Vang after Vang was confronted about trespassing on the hunting party’s private property.

Five years ago, I spoke with family members of the victims, as well as one of the hunters wounded. They talked of how much they missed those murdered, how much the devastating ripple effect of such a senseless act has affected them and how it will continue for generations.

Many of those same people recently declined to speak about the massacre, which received national attention. They will always grieve, always wonder, always wish they could turn back the clock to that day and never have to live it.

The affected families have since celebrated birthdays, weddings, anniversaries and other milestones without those lost.

Terry Willers of Rice Lake, a hunter who received a serious neck wound when Vang shot him, once told me: “What happened sure changed a lot of people’s lives. I think about it, maybe too much, but it doesn’t go away. I can’t comprehend how much things changed because of that. A lot of times I don’t want to think about it; you can’t add it up; it’s too much.”

Willers lost his oldest daughter and Bob Crotteau, his best friend and co-worker, and other friends.

“Everybody has had to carry on. It’s not easy; it’ll never be easy,” Willers said. “It’s pretty tough to imagine.”

Vang, 46, was convicted Sept. 16, 2005, in Sawyer County Court of six counts of first-degree intentional homicide and three counts of attempted first-degree intentional homicide. He was last reported to be imprisoned in Iowa.

Vang claimed that he was belittled and that hunters used anti-Hmong slurs against him after Willers and eventually other members of the hunting party confronted him for using a deer stand and being on the property. Vang, a California National Guard member for six years who earned a sharpshooter rating during U.S. Army basic training in 1989, said a shot was fired at him first, although evidence and testimony refute that claim.

Instead, witnesses said, Vang started walking away but turned and started firing, eventually emptying a 20-round clip from a Saiga rifle. He killed several people as they arrived on ATVs, with four of those killed shot in the back.

Vang, according to testimony, reversed his blaze-orange jacket to camouflage. He left the area after Lauren Hesebeck, who was shot in the shoulder, fired once at Vang.

Someone in the party had written Vang’s hunting license number on a muddy utility vehicle, which helped determine Vang’s identity. He had caught an ATV ride out of the area, which was swarming with law enforcement by then, but was taken into custody about 3 1/2 miles from the murder scene when Jeremy Peery, now a DNR conservation warden supervisor in Eau Claire, recognized the number.

“Just imagine, just imagine if he had gotten out of the area; if they had never found him. Imagine what that would be like for the families to deal with,” said Ray Simpson, a Rice Lake man who said he was hunting “in the vicinity” of the murders.

“Those families, I know, are trying to move on, but there is never closure with something so awful as this,” he said.

It was particularly difficult for victims’ family members to hear Vang testify that several of the hunters “deserved to die” for the way they spoke to him.

They also heard the judge during sentencing refer to Vang, a truck driver and experienced hunter who moved to the Twin Cities area from California in 2000, as “a time bomb ready to go off” at the slightest provocation.

Peery said he and most everyone else with the DNR recalls the shootings.

“Everybody who’s wearing the gray shirt knows what happened,” he said. “Nobody really forgets.”

The DNR conducted “significant outreach” sessions for Hmong and other hunters to review laws and regulations regarding hunting, Peery said.

“We want the woods to be a place where everyone can come together and enjoy the sport all the way through, regardless of their skin color, and (understand) that acts of an individual are not the acts of an entire race,” he said.

Everyone deals with tragedy and its repercussions differently, and that’s no different for the victims’ families. Some families have named children in honor of those who were slain.

“There will never be answers for all this,” said Rena Einum, a student services staff member at Rice Lake High School, where donated funds were used to present six annual scholarships each of the past 10 years in honor of the hunters. “Every time it’s brought up, people feel so bad.”

Hunter’s Park, on the northwest side of Rice Lake, is dedicated to the deceased hunters. It includes a walkway that contains comments and names of donors to the project. A memorial sign says the park represents what the hunters cared about most: family, friends and the outdoors.

“I bring my kids here quite often to play, but almost every time I’m here, I think about those who were killed, about what this place means to so many people,” said Shari Biskens, who was recently at the park.

“I’ve tried to explain to the kids about how this park got its name, but they’re too young to understand,” she mentioned, adding that her family hunts. “All I want is for them to learn the dangers of violent reactions.”

The murders’ proximity to the holidays is particularly difficult for some.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like for them, I mean, trying to sit around the table for Thanksgiving and realize who’s not there,” said Sandy Phierson of Rice Lake. “I’m sure, from all I’ve heard, they were very close families and friends and I hope they only discuss how great those people were and how much love they shared. That’s what we should remember.”