Sunday, November 6, 2011

We Remember

I was just waking up when my phone lit up.  "I'm fine," read a text from my then-boyfriend.

I didn't really know what that meant and, still groggy, was satisfied to simply close my phone.  We had been dating (mostly long distance) for only a few months and I had gotten home the night before from a weekend with him.

It was the first time I went to visit him at his university and my parents made the drive with me.  My then-boyfriend and I spent a fantastic weekend together - he showed me around campus and we watched movies.  When it came time for me to leave, he asked me to stay one more day.  Of course, I couldn't.  I had classes Monday morning and my parents were my ride.  We were naive freshman, and it was April 15, 2007.



So when I walked into work at the Faculty Instructional Services Hangout (or FISH Lab) that morning, the simple text message was nowhere near my mind.  He probably just meant that he was fine even though I left, and wasn't upset with me.

Immediately, I was bombarded by my boss.  He ran over to me frantically and put his arm around my shoulder.  "Are you ok?" I remember him saying to me.  Of course I was.  "Don't do any work today," he said.  I was confused.  Why wouldn't I do any work?  Just go into the Cave (the name of our conference room) and watch the coverage, he told me.  I would still be paid, and I should just know that everyone was there for me.  Everyone in my office looked at me with horror.  Then they asked "How is (your boyfriend)?"

Fine.

I was led, dazed, into the Cave, sat down, and CNN was turned on.  There it was.  Massacre at Virginia Tech.  April 16, 2007.

I panicked before remembering the first two words I received that day.  "I'm fine."  I sat there in shock for the remainder of the day.  I'm sure I missed classes, though I forget now.  I wore nothing but orange and maroon for a week.  With the help of the Loyola (my undergrad university) Student Government, I put together a tribute to the students at VT.




I was 18.

My assignment for this week's class is to review a well-written journalism piece.  I know that this is a long introduction for a class assignment, but this isn't just another journalism article for me.  The piece I chose to write about was published in The Washington Post on April 19, 2007.  Entitled "That was the Desk I Chose to Die Under," the series of stories written after the attack won The Pulitzer Prize for 2008 Breaking News Reporting.  You can find it here: http://www.pulitzer.org/archives/7811

The article is approached differently than most.  It chronologically works through the day, inserting seemingly mundane details such as what certain teachers were covering in class that day, or who stayed up late Sunday night working on which term paper.  The details create so depth to the article and give the story life.  This is not a rushed piece, but instead a chronicle of the events that took place that fateful day.  The reader knows that is coming, and it is heartbreaking to read every word.  You know many of these "characters" will die.  You want to yell "Leave! Get out! He's coming!"

The emotive power in this story is well crafted.  The details are gruesome and difficult to read.  For such an event, it should not be any other way (in my opinion).  This is not an event that should be sugar-coated for the public.  What happened at VT that morning was disgusting, gory, and horrific.  It would be a disservice to describe it otherwise.

The number of witnesses and perspectives examined in this article is amazing.  From professors to students, EMTs and roommates, the author certainly did his job.  Although using a timeline to write the piece is not original, it is certainly effective.  For a story such as this, it would seem strange to write it in any other way.

This story is beautifully written.  It reads like a story, although sadly it is not.  Truth be told, it was difficult for me to contain my emotions as I read the piece. Sitting in my tiny studio apartment, I was transported back to that Monday morning in the Cave as my coworkers, Tracy and Jess, came in to comfort me.  The shock, the tears, the devastation all come back.  And that is what a well written piece can do.

I recently begun working on a piece about the concealed carry legislation in Wisconsin that took effect on November 1.  Some were upset, others applauded the legislation.  I interviewed a number of people about their thoughts on the legislation.  Every single person mentioned Virginia Tech.

We remember.

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