April 2007 was an interesting month for me. I was finishing up my first year of living in Blacksburg, Virginia while closing out my freshman year at Blacksburg High School. I had made some friends and was finally feeling completely comfortable in this new school. But, one day it all changed. It was then that I found out that Blacksburg was not just another place that I lived (I had resided in seven other places previously). This town was a community and a community that I truly had a place in.
April 16, 2007, was a confusing and horrifying day for Blacksburg residents, and the students and faculty of Virginia Tech. This is how my day went…
I was in my fifth-period English class at around 11 AM when our principal came over the loud speaker telling us that every student was to return to their fourth-period classrooms immediately. He stressed that we were not to stop along the way, not to chat, but to go straight there immediately. He said that we were having a lockdown. Since some students had lunch during fifth-period and were roaming about the large cafeteria, it was important for everyone to return to their smaller more structured rooms.
Everyone seemed slightly concerned, but growing up with numerous fire and tornado drills, most of us had been numbed to these sorts of announcements. Before we filled out into the halls, a girl in my fifth-period class began crying because she knew her mentally handicapped sister would be afraid without her. I continuously thought to myself that it probably wasn’t anything serious, probably just a drill.
I went back to my fourth-period history class where we all sat around casually and no one really seemed to be afraid. After a little while, we turned on the news using one of those black rollaway TVs that most classrooms have. The local news was reporting that someone had been shot and killed inside a Virginia Tech dorm. Although my dad was a faculty member at Virginia Tech, I wasn’t worried at all. In my mind, whoever shot this person had a motive to hurt only that one person and no one else was in danger. I rummaged through my backpack to find a chocolate bar since I had not yet had lunch, and I continued to chat with my friends. We waited for what seemed like an unnecessary lockdown to end.
Suddenly, the death toll at the bottom of the screen began rising. It went from one to ten in what seemed like seconds, and just kept going up. It was then that breaking news came on to tell us that another shooting had occurred inside an academic building. Immediately, the mood in the room was no longer the relaxed vibe it had been minutes before. Almost everyone I attended high school with had at least one parent that worked at Virginia Tech, and many students also had brothers and sisters attending the university.
Everyone pulled out their phones and nervously tried to contact their loved ones. Some got through and were told everything was okay, while others did not receive answers immediately. Thankfully, my mom texted me quickly to let me know that my dad had reached out to her and he was completely fine. However, other students didn't get this immediate gratification and were panicking. Throughout the day almost everyone got the answers they were hoping for, and their family members were fine. Unfortunately, a few did not get such news.
After about an hour and a half, the internal lockdown was lifted, but the outside doors remained locked the rest of the day. We went on with our class schedules for a few more hours, although everyone seemed to be walking around the halls like zombies. Our perceptions of our perfect little college town had been completely flipped upside down. I remember sitting in my seventh-period choir class with my friend Brittany Rivero, who also attended Virginia Tech with me a few years later, talking about how we couldn’t believe what had happened. Our teacher told us that we should still sing some cheerful songs thinking maybe it would lift our spirits, but no one was really in the mood.
When I finally got home I hugged my parents and told them that I loved them. We all watched the news while trying to figure out what had happened. It was crazy to think that something so horrible could happen in such a wonderful place. No one understood why something so bad was happening to us.
The next evening on April 17th, the entire town and student body attended a candlelight vigil on the university's large mid-campus lawn, The Drillfield. It was one of the most powerful things I have ever experienced. The enter area was completely covered in people like I had never seen before. People of all ages were crying and holding each other as someone read the victims' names over a microphone. To finish it out, they played the saddest version of “Taps” I had ever heard.
At the end of the vigil, it was like no one wanted to leave. Everyone wanted to be together and hold on to the empowering unity of the Blacksburg community around them. Someone started the, “Let’s Go, Hokies!” cheer and I don’t think I will ever heard it louder and with as much passion again. People were screaming at the top of their lungs and at that moment, the Hokie nation knew nothing could ever break them.
School was canceled in Blacksburg for a week or two, I can’t remember exactly. A few students from the middle school lost parents, and a boy from the high school lost a sister. I ended up having chemistry class a couple of years later with a boy who lost his father. I was extremely proud to see him walk in late to class that year on April 16th wearing his 3.2 for 32 shirt from the race earlier that morning and appearing to be happy. Everyone really showed how strong they were in the days, months, and years that have followed the tragedy.
The following couple of weeks, the media swarmed the Blacksburg community. I remember driving by a huge parking lot outside of The Inn at Virginia Tech that is usually filled with a few cars of visiting parents and alumni. This week, it was completely filled with media trucks covered in massive pieces of broadcasting equiptment. My family went to the drillfield a few days after the tragedy to see a temporary memorial that members of the community had set up. I remember seeing news correspondents and cameramen everywhere tracking down anyone that looked like they might be a student. It all felt so intrusive and crazy that they were willing to hound grieving students for the sake of a story.
Thankfully as each year passes, the Blacksburg community continues to remain a strong unit. We slowly let go of the painful memories, and band together just as fiercely as we did during the first vigil. I am proud to not only be a member of the Blacksburg community, but also of the Hokie nation. I would never want to be anything or anywhere else.
