Virginia Tech

Last night at our business meeting, Renee told us that Teryn wouldn't be there. Her roommate, Christa, has a cousin, Reema, who goes to Tech and her family hadn't heard from her all day - by the business meeting at 9:30, they still hadn't heard from her. Teryn stayed with her roommate in case she needed her.

Steven, Renee's boyfriend, lives a few doors down from Teryn so he was texting Renee as he heard news. After reading one text message, Renee gasped and began to text him back. We all looked at her, and a couple of people asked, "Did they find her?" "Yes," Renee said. We all looked at her, silent, waiting for more, but Renee continued to type on her phone as though we should know what she meant by yes. When she realized we were all still looking at her, she said quietly, "She's dead."

I remember when the Columbine shootings happened. It was terrible, but I was so separated from it because it was far away. The shootings that happened yesterday at Virginia Tech literally hit too close to home: not only is Virginia Tech just down 81 from JMU, but JMU was filled yesterday with people wondering if someone they knew had been killed. Nearly everyone at JMU knows at least one person who goes to Tech.

For some reason, I still feel separated from it. Perhaps "separated" isn't the best word; it feels surreal. The full weight of it hasn't hit me. A portion of it did this morning when I saw Reema's name on the initial list of 17 victims that were posted on the internet, but I think what happened is so huge that part of me doesn't want to attach myself to it. To watch the convocation at Tech on TV right now is surreal, too, because President Bush is there speaking. This event was HUGE. Bigger than my mind wants to believe. The worst school shooting in American history.

The worst school shooting in American history at the hand of one man. One boy, really. Even Columbine was more than one person, and the death toll then was in the teens. Thirty-two people killed, including the shooter.