One Year Later

I find myself sitting here trying to comprehend the fact that nearly one year has passed since one of the most unbelievable tragedies I have ever witnessed. It's strange, in a way, how every Tuesday and Thursday I pass the memorial, Norris Hall, the places I saw on the news nonstop for a week, and only gradually have I been reminded of those days. Those days that seem so distant...

I feel it only appropriate to reflect upon a few memories, just because I feel the need to say something, somewhere. I don't know if I ever properly dealt with what happened. I tried to be strong for my friends, my family, for everyone else but myself. And I don't exactly know what that's done. I am still somewhat stunned, confused, angry, and saddened by what happened. It's kind of a mix, with no real prevailing emotion.

I remember the day clearly, vividly. The beautiful morning, but the horror that followed. I was glued to the TV, dumbstruck, horrified, but unable to look away. It was almost like 9/11 all over again - the confusion, the yearn to know what was going on, the hope that everyone I knew was alright. On 9/11, my dad was in Washington, D.C. On 4/16, my friends were in class.

I cried out audibly at noon when it was announced that 20 were dead. I couldn't control myself. I was sad, angry, disbelieving. The police had to have gotten it wrong; it must be an overestimate. But to no avail, reality sunk in.

The following day I was numb. I did my best to reach out to my friends and my Brothers. That night at the candlelight vigil was one of the most powerful experiences of my life, unfortunately. I did my best to hold my faltering friends up. I nearly broke down myself when the crowd starting gently singing "Amazing Grace." And then the call came out, across the Drillfield..."Let's Go!"

With every shred of my raw and breaking voice I screamed, "Hokies!" I screamed it at the night sky, to our friends in Heaven, a prayer of hope to God, and a rebuke at the Devil, who had tried to bring us down. I screamed it louder than at any football game, for this was no sport, this was the essence of my life. This was the Hokie Nation in full force, and let no one stand in the way of our existence. Never before in my life had I felt so connected to the 10,000 people with whom I huddled against the cold, sheltering the flickering light that burned inside a Pepsi cup. A treasured flame of remembrance, modestly burning against the wind that had yet to cease since the morning before.

That night I spent with friends in the dorms. We watched a movie, I think, but I couldn't tell you what it was. It just felt good to be with people I cared about. Sim and I went up to Gumby's to get some Pokey Sticks in a vain effort to keep things normal and calm. It was good to be with friends. And it has been ever since.

I don't know what it will be like this year, on April 16, 2008. Certainly it will not be a normal day, as it shouldn't. One year ago I feigned strength, but maybe this year, one whole year later, I may finally be confronted with the sadness I have felt welling inside of me. It will pass, in time, but I hope to never lose the sense of love and friendship that I felt on that campus the night of April 17, 2007. For as sad as it was, it was magic. It was beautiful. It was everything that is great about Virginia Tech.

Let us remember those who suffered, those who died on April 16, 2007. But let us also never forget the beauty of the ensuing days. Our mascot is a Hokie, but our souls burn with the fire of the phoenix. We have fallen, we have risen, and we will forever remember what has made us who we are.

God bless you, my friends. One day we will see each other again.