Tuesday, April 12, 2011

We Still Haven't Forgotten

One of the many makeshift memorials on the drillfield
My senior year of high school I applied to ten schools, yet Virginia Tech always was my number one choice.  As soon as I stepped foot on campus, I knew without a doubt I belonged at Virginia Tech. VT was six and half hours away from home, yet I never second-guessed my decision. This was in large part due to the family-like atmosphere Virginia Tech provided. VT truly was my home away from home and my fellow Hokies (students and alum) all composed my extensive VT family.

When people ask where I went to school I proudly state Virginia Tech without hesitating. I usually get one of two responses: 
           1. A genuine response such as, "What a great school!" or "My dad went there!" 
           2. A stunned look followed by the dreaded, "Were you there when 'it' happened?"

The answer to the dreaded question is yes; I was there when 'it' happened. I was on campus and on lock-down under a desk while 'it' was taking place. My classmates and I did not know what our fates would be, nor if we would make it out of that classroom alive. I have never been so frightened in my life.

After being locked down for what seemed like an eternity, we were finally released from our classroom. I remember feeling like I was in a terrible dream that I couldn't wake-up from, as I frantically walked/ran to my car. Police with bulletproof vests and machine guns, police dogs, ambulances, and cop cars flanked what once was my beautiful and serene campus. 

When I finally made it back to my apartment, my best friend was waiting for me. We hugged one another and couldn't let go. One of us said something about transferring, but we both broke down immediately because we knew that wasn't an option. We both loved our school way too much to ever leave.

As the death toll kept rising, my friends and I desperately tried to get in contact with one another to ensure everyone's safety. Communication proved to be complicated, as phone calls were unable to go through. News spread quickly to the outside world, and my family and friends tried to get in contact with me in any way possible. I was blown away by how many people reached out to me, many of whom I had not heard from in years. 

The rest of that day and the following day were blurs. My friends and I struggled to wrap our heads around what we had just lived through, unable to come to terms with the enormity of it all.

The morning after 'it' a convocation took place in our basketball stadium. I felt like I was floating outside my body as I took in everything around me. Then-governor of Virginia, Tim Kane spoke to us, as did President Bush. I don't remember what they said to us, but I remember thinking: "This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't be happening." 

Throughout both of their speeches, I held hands with two of my sorority sisters, as all three of us quietly wept. We wept for our 32 family members we lost, for the devastated Hokie nation left behind, and for our innocence that was taken away from us in the blink of an eye.

Just as I thought my heart was going to explode from an inordinate amount of pain, an English professor by the name of Nikki Giovanni stood up at the podium. Her voice echoed throughout the hushed Cassell Coliseum, as she boldly read a poem she had composed, which ended with:

We are the Hokies.
We will prevail.
We will prevail.
We will prevail.
We are Virginia Tech.

We immediately erupted into applause and the "Let's Go Hokies!" chant broke out. That's the first time I truly knew and believed that we would be okay.  Giovanni's simple and yet powerful ending became our battle cry. We would not let this tragedy define us and we would not let one sick individual defeat us. We were the Hokies and we stood tall.

Sending Hokie love to our 32 angels

Four Years Later

Saturday marks the four-year anniversary of that dark day in Hokie history. This will be the first year where classes aren't canceled to remember those who were lost that day. This is in large part due to the fact that the anniversary falls on a Saturday, but it is also because the last class who was present on that day graduated last year.

I realized that this also meant that all of the victims would have graduated as of last year. This realization made me wonder about the kind of impact they would be making on the world right now if their lives weren't unfairly ended that day. I remember being flabbergasted on the one-year anniversary, as all of the victims' accomplishments were read out loud. I think that's the first time I understood the quote, "Only the good die young."

A favorite quote from the ordeal says:

"I ask each of you to take the time to be a Hokie this week. Appreciate life a little more, take in every moment around you, count your blessings, tell the people around you that you love them, slow down, remember what's truly important in life. And live for those 32 that do not have that chance anymore." 

This quote says it all. Join me in honoring the 32 beautiful souls lost on that blustery April day four years ago by living life to the fullest. To our 32 angels, we still haven't forgotten you and I can say with certainty that we never will. Rest in peace.

We did prevail