View of the intermediate memorial in front of Burruss Hall. At the time of this photo, volunteers were cleaning up the site, moving some mementos to storage and others to the newly completed center of the memorial. Other parts of the memorial space were still under construction. Photo taken July 6, 2007. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0.
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0
After April 16, plastic daisies have regularly been laid down at various places on the drillfield in the shape of the VT logo, near the temporary memorial in front of Burruss Hall. This photo was taken on Thursday, June 14. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0.
Bags of plastic flowers sit on a walkway at the new intermediate memorial. Hokie stones for Nicole White, Daniel O'Neil, and Seung-Hui Cho (unmarked) are visible to the right. At the time of this this photo, staff members and volunteers were cleaning up the site, moving some mementos to storage and others to this area, the newly completed center of the memorial. Other parts of the intermediate memorial were still under construction. Photo taken July 6, 2007. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0.
A pile of mementos in front of construction fencing at the intermediate memorial site. At the time of this photo, staff members and volunteers were cleaning up the site, moving some items to storage and others to the newly completed center of the memorial. Photo taken July 6, 2007. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0.
View of the intermediate memorial in front of Burruss Hall. In the foreground lay a pile of memento items. At the time of this photo, staff and volunteers - including the student shown in this photo - were cleaning up the site, moving some items to storage and others to the new center of the memorial, shown in the middle of this photograph. Other parts of the memorial were still under construction. Photo taken July 6, 2007. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0.
Daisies and mementos lay on the ground near the intermediate memorial construction site, on the drillfield in front of Burruss Hall. At the time of this photo, volunteers and staff members were cleaning up the area, moving some items to storage and other mementos to the newly finished center of the memorial. Photo taken July 6, 2007. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0.
View of the newly finished center of the intermediate memorial, on the drillfield in front of Burruss Hall. Hokie stones - one for each victim - are arranged in an arc. At the time of this photo, volunteers and staff members were cleaning up the area, moving some mementos to storage and other items to this area. Photo taken July 6, 2007. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0.
Legisladores sólo piden mayor control sobre las ‘personas peligrosas’ en EE.UU.
Publicado por La Raza Newspaper 06-14-2007 Washington, D.C. (EFE).— Un comité creado por el presidente de Estados Unidos, George W. Bush, para estudiar la matanza en la Universidad virginia tech recomendó ayer controlar mejor a las "personas peligrosas", pero no pidió endurecer las leyes para restringir el acceso a las armas. El informe dice que todos los estados deberían enviar los datos de personas que no pueden poseer armas por problemas mentales a una lista nacional de la Oficina Federal de Investigaciones (FBI) denominada Sistema de Comprobación Inmediata de Antecedentes Penales (NICS). Actualmente, sólo 23 de los 50 estados del país envían esa información. El estado de Virginia no envió al NICS los datos de Cho Seung-Hui, un estudiante coreano de 23 años que había sido sometido a tratamiento psiquiátrico. Sus problemas mentales deberían haberle impedido comprar las dos armas que usó para matar en abril a 32 estudiantes y profesores en la Universidad Politécnica, pero Cho pudo adquirirlas legalmente porque su nombre no estaba en esa lista nacional. La Cámara de Representantes de EU aprobó ayer un proyecto de ley que obligaría a los estados a pasar al FBI de forma automática los nombres de personas como Cho. El informe, elaborado por los secretarios de Salud, Michael Leavitt, y Educación, Margaret Spellings, así como el fiscal general, Alberto Gonzales, también señala que existe "confusión sobre las leyes que regulan el intercambio de información" respecto de personas que pueden ser un peligro. El comité concluye que profesores, administraciones e instituciones no tienen claro cuándo pueden o deben alertar a las autoridades sobre estas personas para impedir que tengan acceso a armas. "Este miedo y malos entendidos probablemente limitan la transferencia de información", se explica en el documento. Asimismo, el comité recomienda poner en marcha programas para instruir a padres, alumnos y profesores sobre los signos de que una persona sufre desequilibrios mentales que le pueden llevar a la violencia. Además, insta a mejorar los servicios médicos para estudiantes que padecen enfermedades mentales. Por último, plantea que los planes para responder a emergencias a nivel local y estatal tengan en cuenta las necesidades de los centros educativos, y que los cuerpos de seguridad de las escuelas colaboren de forma más estrecha con la policía. El informe no habla en ningún momento, sin embargo, de la necesidad de endurecer las leyes para restringir el acceso a las armas en general, en un país donde sus ciudadanos poseen más de 200 millones de armas de fuego. En Virginia, por ejemplo, cualquier persona que no tenga un historial criminal puede comprar legalmente un arma por mes. Otras matanzas han sido cometidas por personas que no habían sido tratadas por problemas mentales, como por ejemplo la ocurrida en 1999 en la escuela secundaria de Columbine, en la que murieron 14 estudiantes y un profesor. -- Fuente Original: Diario La Raza - Chicago http://www.laraza.com/news.php?nid=44534&clave=a%3A1%3A%7Bi%3A0%3Bs%3A13%3A%22virginia+tech%22%3B%7D
Jorge Mederos Executive Editor La Raza Chicago Inc. jorge.mederos@laraza.com August, 13 2007
Actividades en honor a los fallecidos marcan el regreso a virginia tech Publicado por María Luisa Azpiazu EFE 04-24-2007 Washington, D.C — Mucho dolor, impresionantes minutos de silencio y 32 campanadas en memoria de las víctimas de la peor matanza de la historia estudiantil de E.U. marcaron ayer el regreso a clase de los alumnos de la Universidad Politécnica de Virginia. Fueron miles los alumnos que regresaron ayer para rendir tributo a sus compañeros y profesores fallecidos. Justo una semana antes, Cho Seung-Hui, un estudiante coreano de 23 años, decidió cambiar el ritmo devida en esta Universidad del sur del estado de Virginia y mató a 32 personas. Las solemnes conmemoraciones comenzaron muy pronto. El primer minuto de silencio se guardó a las 7:10 de la mañana en el edificio en el que Cho cobró sus dos primeras víctimas. Algo más de dos horas después, la gran concentración se llevó a cabo en el campus central, donde los estudiantes colocaron miles de recuerdos, flores, velas y escritos en recuerdo de las víctimas. Entre los objetos, alguien puso una bandera de Perú y otra de Israel en memoria de dos de las víctimas, el estudiante peruano Daniel Pérez Cuevas y el profesor Liviu Librescu, quien, según testigos, bloqueó con su cuerpo la entrada a su clase del agresor y salvó la vida de varios de sus alumnos, aunque perdió la suya. La mañana fue brillante, soleada y cálida, lo que contribuyó a que el acto fuera aún más solemne. Los estudiantes portaron 33 banderas blancas que representaban tanto a las víctimas como al agresor. Una pequeña banda de música interpretó el himno "America the Beautiful" cerca del lugar donde se había instalado un semicírculo con 33 piedras en recuerdo de los fallecidos. Junto a la piedra del agresor, alguien colocó una carta en la que se asegura que este joven "subestimó nuestra fuerza, coraje y compasión" y en la que se asegura que "rompiste nuestros corazones pero no nuestros espíritus". Este es el resumen de un convencimiento que impera en esta Universidad, decidida a superar el gran trauma. "Tenemos que seguir adelante", aseguran desde las página del "Collegiate Times", el periódico universitario. que ha jugado un papel fundamental tanto en la ayuda a los estudiantes como en la información en los momentos posteriores de la tragedia. La consigna es clara- "Vamos Hokies¡¡", que es el nombre con el que se denominan los estudiantes de esta Universidad. Alumnos, familiares y profesores, escucharon, en medio de un gran recogimiento, las 32 campanadas. Una por cada una de las víctimas. Terminada la letanía, los estudiantes lanzaron 32 globos blancos al cielo seguidos de otros mil de colores naranja y marrón, la enseña de la Universidad. Muchos, todavía, no podían contener las lágrimas y, en declaraciones a medios locales, aseguran que aún no saben si volverán a la Universidad o darán el curso por terminado ya, dos semanas antes de lo previsto. La Universidad permitirá a todo aquel que no quiera volver a las clases repetir el semestre o quedarse con las notas que tenía hasta el momento.Para los que decidan volver, la Universidad tiene una batería de psicólogos que a ayudará a superar el trauma. Se están poniendo en marcha igualmente imaginativas terapias, como la que ha llevado a la Cruz Roja a llevar a este campus decenas de perros amaestrados para ser especialmente cariñosos, que acompañarán a los estudiantes. Se trata, en definitiva, de ofrecer calma y paz para evitar más episodios tristes como el vivido el fin de semana por la familia Soriano. Su hijo Jeff, un estudiante de Virginia Tech que había sobrevivido a la tragedia, se mató en la carretera el viernes, poco antes de llegar a su casa, en Norfolk (Virginia). Su padre, Enrique Soriano, asegura que su hijo es "la víctima número 33" de la tragedia. EFE -- Fuente Original: Diario La Raza - Chicago http://www.laraza.com/news.php?nid=43429&pag=0
Por Jesús Dávila Corresponsal Publicado el 04-23-2007 San Juan — El féretro con los restos del ingeniero Juan Ramón Ortiz, muerto en la masacre de virginia tech el pasado día 16, fue transportado ayer sábado a Puerto Rico, pero su viuda, Lizelle Vega, y demás familiares pidieron a la prensa que les dejen en paz para poder comenzar el "proceso de sanación" luego de la tragedia. Vega hizo el llamado en una rueda de prensa en la que indicó que el velorio será en una funeraria de Bayamón, ciudad natal de su esposo, y el entierro tendrá lugar el martes en el cementerio católico Porta Coeli, del mismo municipio. La también ingeniero, quien junto a su esposo cursaba estudios avanzados en la universidad de Virginia, expresó agradecimiento para todos los que le han apoyado ante el dolor -tanto en Virginia como en Puerto Rico- además de hacer reconocimiento de la labor que han realizado los medios noticiosos. Pero, pidió que durante los próximos días se permita a la familia su espacio de intimidad y que no se hagan entrevistas en la funeraria o el cementerio. El pedido de Vega coincide con las instrucciones emitidas por la dirección de virginia tech de que a partir del lunes estará prohibido que los reporteros o fotógrafos entren a los edificios universitarios ni camiones de transmisión televisada podrán estar en el campus para dar espacio a que comience "el proceso de sanación". Las instrucciones especifican además que cualquier pedido de entrevistas a personas en el campus universitario respete los sentimientos de las personas. Vega dijo que no quería hacer declaraciones sobre lo que pasó y que sólo quería limitarse a recordar a su marido por su alegría. Sobre su futuro, indicó que todavía no ha tomado una decisión pero especificó claramente que no piensa demandar a la universidad, ni ahora, ni nunca. Entre las alternativas que ha ofrecido la universidad a los estudiantes afectados por la masacre está obtener la nota de fin de semestre con los trabajos realizados hasta el momento en los cursos. El día de los hechos, Vega se encontraba en el edificio donde cursa estudios en geotecnia, mientras Ortiz asistía a clases de hidrología avanzada en el edificio del frente, donde se produjo el segundo tiroteo. Según había narrado previamente, no escuchó los disparos y sólo vio el movimiento de los policías, luego de lo cual se enteró que su esposo era una de las víctimas fatales. © EDLP -- Fuente Original: Diario La Prensa - Chicago http://www.laraza.com/news.php?nid=43410&clave=a%3A1%3A%7Bi%3A0%3Bs%3A13%3A%22virginia+tech%22%3B%7D
Intenta virginia tech volver a la normalidad
Las clases se reanudan hoy, aunque el edificio donde fueron asesinadas 30 personas permanecerá cerrada el resto del semestre Publicado por Servicios La Opinión 04-23-2007 Blacksburg - La universidad de virginia tech, donde hace una semana un estudiante mató a 32 personas y se suicidó, reanudará hoy sus actividades mientras prosiguen las investigaciones y debates en torno al incidente. Mientras, miles de estudiantes, profesores y demás afectados por la tragedia, tratan de encontrar valor para regresar al campus y volver a la normalidad, acción que fue impulsada ayer por el pastor de la Iglesia Bautista de Blacksburg, cuyo sermón estuvo centrado en la recuperación emocional de los sobrevivientes. La universidad espera el retorno de la mayoría de sus 26 mil estudiantes para la etapa final de los cursos de este año., mientras se completan los funerales de las víctimas del estudiante Seung Hui Cho. "Tenemos que seguir adelante. Haremos todo lo que podamos para reorganizar este sitio e impedir que algo como lo ocurrido vuelva a ocurrir", dijo el portavoz de la universidad, Larry Hincker. El edificio Norris, donde Cho dio muerte a 30 personas y luego se suicidó, permanecerá cerrado por el resto del semestre., y las autoridades han tomado medidas para aliviar la presencia de los medios de comunicación. Mientras, el pastor Tommy McDearis exhortó a los feligreses a regresar a sus actividades normales en la universidad de virginia tech luego de la matanza ocurrida en la institución. McDearis tuvo la penosa tarea de informar el pasado lunes a familiares de más de 20 víctimas acerca de la matanza causada por el estudiante surcoreano Seung Hui Cho. El pastor dijo a la congregación que "si cedemos ante esta situación, y cesamos de hacer todas las cosas que realmente importan en la vida porque hemos sido visitados por la oscuridad, entonces, terminaremos rindiéndonos ante la oscuridad". El pastor pronunció su sermón mientras los estudiantes que abandonaron virginia tech tras la matanza regresaban al campo universitario. El pastor contó la experiencia de un profesor que había quedado muy afectado por la muerte de varios de sus estudiantes en Norris Hall. El profesor dijo que en principio no deseaba retornar. Pero que lo haría, para no traicionar los recuerdos, las esperanzas y los sueños de las víctimas. Mientras se aprestaban a reanudar las clases, las autoridades universitarias invitaron a los centenares de periodistas que acamparon en predios de virginia tech, a irse del lugar a más tardar hoy. La vocera de la universidad, Liz Hart, dijo que las autoridades de virginia tech apreciaban lo que habían hecho los periodistas, pero era hora de ir hacia adelante. "La mejor manera de hacer eso es que la universidad retorne a la normalidad", señaló Hart. © Servicios -- Fuente Original: Diario La Raza - Chicago http://www.laraza.com/news.php?nid=43402&pag=0
Jorge Mederos Executive Editor La Raza Chicago Inc. jorge.mederos@laraza.com August 13, 2007
A Tribute to Professor G. V. Loganathan (Editorial)
(PDF, 36KB; full text copied below) EDITORIAL A Tribute to Professor G. V. Loganathan Arun K. Deb, Ph.D., P.E., F.ASCE Vice President (Ret.), Weston Solutions, Inc. E-mail: arundeb@msn.com April 16, 2007 started like any other day on the Virginia Tech campus in Blacksburg, Virginia. Dr. G. V. Loganathan, a professor in the Civil and Environmental Engineering department at Virginia Tech left his home near the campus to teach a graduate class on Advanced Hydrology in room number 206 of Norris Hall. He never returned home. Loganathan, along with nine of his students, was killed by a gunman. It was the worst massacre on a university campus in the history of the United States. Very soon, the news started to flash on TV screens. I became concerned as I know quite a few faculty members at Virginia Tech, but never expected one of my dearest friends to be among the victims. I was stunned when I saw Prof. Loganathan's name on TV as one of the victims. I barely got over the shock when I received a call from one of my friends confirming the news. I opened my e-mail to see several messages in this regard. That is one dreadful day I will never forget in my life. Dr. G. V. Loganathan was born in 1954, in the state of Tamil Nadu, India. He completed his Bachelor of Engineering at Madras University, India in 1976. He earned his Master of Technology at Indian Institute of Technology, Kanpur and received his PhD from Purdue University. In 1981, Dr. Loganathan joined Virginia Tech to conduct research and teach in the Civil and Environmental Engineering Department. He focused his research in the areas of hydrology and hydraulic networks. It was about 20 years ago while attending an ASCE Conference of the Water Resources Planning and Management Division, that I first met Loganathan in the Water Resources Systems Committee meeting. After the meeting, he came up to me and expressed his interest in water distribution system analysis. At the time, he was a young faculty member at Virginia Tech, full of energy and enthusiasm. He discussed with me his current projects on water distribution system research and his plans for the future. I impressed upon him the need to do some practical research for water utility personnel to help solve real water distribution system problems. He expressed his sincere interest to work with me on some future projects. We soon became friends and communicated frequently. He always informed me when he had new ideas or started to work on a challenging project. Quite often, we shared brainstorming sessions. Soon, I became involved in conducting water distribution system research under the American Water Works Association Research Foundation AwwaRF grants. In 1997, I had an opportunity to get Loganathan involved in one of my proposals on "Prioritizing Water Main Replacement and Rehabilitation" for AwwaRF. The success of that proposal was the beginning of a long working relationship with GV as he preferred to be called . He quickly became a part of our team. It was a complex project that involved Newland Agbenowski, a PhD student from Ghana working under the guidance of Loganathan. I, along with our project team, spent many weekend hours with him brainstorming and formulating the concept of development of a computer model. With the help of Loganathan and Newland, we developed guidance and methodologies for the collection of on-site real-time water main break field data and a modeling system incorporating these data to predict and prioritize candidate mains for rehabilitation/replacement. This model helps water utility managers assess the condition of water mains and develop strategies for long-term rehabilitation plans for their distribution systems. In 1999, while working on the previous AwwaRF project, Loganathan and I prepared another successful proposal on "Decision Support System for Distribution System Pipe Renewal." In this project Loganathan, with help from one of his graduate students, developed decision support system software to evaluate and identify suitable water main renewal technologies available to water utilities for renewal of a specific water main. Technologies considered include both open-cut and trenchless. A cost module was also developed for comparative cost analysis. By this time, I had developed an excellent personal and working relationship with Loganathan. Also, I was fortunate to have his and Virginia Tech's help in developing a prioritized water main replacement program for the Saint Louis County Water Company now Missouri American Water Company . The Saint Louis County Water Company was experiencing a large number of cast-iron water main breaks. In this project Loganathan and his graduate student formulated a computer program to analyze a large amount of water main break data on a pipe-by-pipe basis. An economic model was developed that predicted water main breaks, estimated costs of main break repair, and compared that with the cost of a replacement pipe to identify the optimum time to replace a pipe. Using this software, we developed an optimum water main replacement program for the Saint Louis County Water Company. In 2002, Loganathan and I had the opportunity to successfully submit another proposal on "Criteria for Valve Location and System Reliability" for the AwwaRF Loganathan and his PhD student Hwandon Jun, developed a software for the analysis of water distribution networks and a strategic valve management model to assist water utilities in developing a rationale for the proper location of valves and optimum valve and system reliability. This tool is suitable for water utilities to minimize impacts due to valve and pipe failures. A report on this project was published by AwwaRF in 2006. Loganathan prepared a paper entitled "Valve Distribution and Impact Analysis in Water Distribution Systems" which is included in this issue of the Journal. I am glad and proud to be associated with Loganathan's paper as a coauthor. Loganathan's work was recognized by ASCE with the Wesley W. Horner Award in 1996 for his paper, "Sizing Stormwater Detention Basins for Pollutant Removal." He was an excellent teacher and earned the outstanding teaching award four times. He also received the Faculty Achievement Award for Excellence in Civil Engineering Education. He was a very active member of ASCE and served as Associate Editor of the Journal of Hydrologic Engineering specializing in the area of stochastic hydrology. He also served in the Water Resources Systems Committee, Trenchless Installation of Pipeline Committee, and acted as Vice Chair of the Operations Management Committee of ASCE. He supervised more than 45 graduate students during his tenure at Virginia Tech. Students adored him. One student wrote in his memorial, "I regret not telling you that you are the best teacher I ever had." Another student wrote in his memorial posting, "Dr. Loganathan was an excellent teacher and mentor. I will always remember him for his kind heart and patience he displayed towards me and his other students." Jerry Snyder, a colleague of mine and a member of ASCE posted, "He was a dedicated professor and researcher and the most gentleman that I have ever known. I can only hope to live my life with purpose and humanity in the same manner as GV. It was a privilege to know him." Loganathan is survived by his wife, Usha and two daughters, Uma and Abhirami. The President of the ruling Congress Party of India, Mrs. Sonia Gandhi sent her heartfelt condolences to his wife Usha. During my long association with Loganathan, I found him a very polite, respectful, and humble man. In technical discussion, he respected opinions of all project team members, including his students. He always met deadlines, even if that meant working evenings and weekends. He was a complete gentleman. The last e-mail message I received from him was on April 9, 2007, exactly a week before his death. I will never forget him as long as I live. I express my sincere condolences to his family. Virginia Tech University has established an annual graduate fellowship in the Civil and Environmental Engineering Department in memory of Loganathan. The best way to help continue his legacy is to contribute to this G. V. Loganathan Fellowship Fund by sending checks in favor of Virginia Tech Foundation with a memo to: G.V. Loganathan Fellowship at 902 Prices Fork Road, Suite 4000, Blacksburg, VA 24061. I would like to thank Dr. Ray Ferrara for giving me the opportunity to write this editorial. -- Archived with permission of the American Society of Civil Engineers (ASCE). Original Source: Journal of Environmental Engineering © ASCE / August 2007
Xi Van Fleet Senior Manager, Information Services Publication Division American Society of Civil Engineers 1801 Alexander Bell Drive Reston, VA 20191 (703) 295-6278-FAX PERMISSIONS@asce.org
One week after the shooting,people set six flags on the lawn of the drillfield to mourn the victims.
After the vigil,people left candles and flowers on the drillfield to express their sadness and grief.
People volunteered to set up a stone marked with "VT" for other people to light candles.
Handmade memorials were placed on one of the corners of the drillfield.
In order to express the grief, Virginia Tech lowered down the national flag in front of the Burrus Hall for weeks after the shooting.
It was 7am on Monday. Another week was starting at Virginia Tech. Then the first shots rang out. Within hours, 32 people lay dead and America was left trying to make sense of the carnage. Paul Harris reports from Blacksburg. Sunday April 22, 2007 The Observer A group of Amish men, all in black, shuffled towards the chapel at one end of the enormous sports field that dominates the centre of Virginia Tech's campus. They had come to pay their respects after a tragedy they knew all too well. It was only last year that a killer struck their community, shooting dead five young girls in a tiny Amish school. Now they had driven many long hours from their Pennsylvania farms to southern Virginia, to offer solace to another American community devastated by a mass killing. They spoke in hushed tones to the Reverend Kelly Sisson, one of the pastors of Glade Church in Blacksburg. Then they entered the comforting dark interior to pray and to mourn the dead of Virginia Tech. 'They understand what has happened to us in a way few others do,' Sisson said. Everyone is trying to understand what happened at Blacksburg last week. Impromptu memorials have sprung up on the sports field, covering the grass in flickering candles, pictures of the dead, and flowers. Students, friends and family have written messages, sad, desperate, noble. They speak of loss and love. They vow to remember lives brutally cut short on what should have been just another Monday morning. But, although there was nothing ordinary about last Monday, there was a dreadful familiarity to it. Cho Seung-hui's bloody rampage cost the lives of 32 of his fellow students and staff. It was the worst mass shooting in American history, but far from the only one. There is almost a ritual to such attacks: the fleeing students, the wailing sirens, the mourning survivors, the suicide of the gunman - Cho shot himself in the face. Columbine, the Amish school, Virginia Tech, all are now names that haunt the popular imagination. Yet no one pretends last week's rite won't happen again, somewhere else in America on some other seemingly ordinary day. For now it is Blacksburg's tragedy that has the attention of the world. What Cho did last week is well known. In two separate attacks, he shot his victims methodically, without any outward show of emotion. It was an assault he had planned for weeks: buying guns, training physically and preparing a 'manifesto' of his beliefs in writing, pictures and video. But the real question is not how Cho killed so many. It is why. And that is a much more difficult issue. What could have caused him to hate so much? If he was ill, should it have been spotted? Why did he pick the targets that he did? These questions could shake the strongest faith. Sisson shook her head at the thought of them: 'I am determined to not give easy answers. Cliches are cheap and we are still waking up to this.' Then she thought of Cho. 'He was in great pain. Great brokenness,' she said. A faint smile of incomprehension hovered around her lips. She was close to tears. The first sign something was wrong last Monday was a scream and 'popping' sounds in the West Ambler Johnston dorm building. It was just after 7am: many students slept through the noise. Those who emerged bleary-eyed into the corridors found a dreadful scene. Two bodies lay near Room 4040, in the open space near the lifts. There was no sign of an attacker. The killer had disappeared, leaving a trail of bloody footprints down a hallway. By the time Cho claimed his first victim, he had already been planning his attack for weeks, possibly months. Not that anyone knew it. Cho was a solitary figure on campus, even among the five students with which he shared a 'suite', Room 2121. He spoke rarely and shunned human contact. His only visitors were his parents. 'He never showed any interest in having conversations with anybody. He seemed like a shy person. He never spoke a word when he was around any of us in the suite,' said one room-mate, Karan Grewal. In the past few weeks, Cho's routines seem to have shifted. He started going to the gym, beefing up his slight frame. He cut his hair short. He started waking up earlier, rising at 5.30am. He began taking night-time bike rides, disappearing for hours to roam the campus paths. These were the superficial changes. Unknown to anyone but himself, Cho was plotting mass murder. Nineteen days before he began shooting, he took a road-trip, renting a car and staying a night in a nearby hotel in Christiansburg. It was on this trip that he would film some of his rambling, hate-laden last testament. It is likely that he also used the privacy to take pictures of himself posing with his guns, a knife and a hammer. He also began drafting manuscripts blaming the outside world and decrying the lifestyles of his fellow students. Cho prepared in private. But police are checking to see if he had mentioned or hinted at his plans, whether by phone or email. He certainly had to buy his guns in public. Tragically, it is neither difficult nor unusual for a 23-year-old student legally to buy powerful weapons in Virginia. On 9 February, Cho purchased a Walther P22 pistol from a pawn shop on Main Street in Blacksburg. He then waited just over a month - in order to comply with Virginia state law - before buying a second weapon. On 16 March, he picked out a Glock semi-automatic from Roanoke Firearms, in a town about 30 miles away. With each purchase Cho filled out the correct forms and passed a background check. No one asked what a 23-year-old English student could possibly want with two powerful hand-guns. What the sellers did not know was that Cho had once spent a night in a mental hospital in 2005. Nor does Virginia law deem it necessary that anyone divulge such information. Yet it represented, perhaps, the biggest sign Cho was not an ordinary young man, but had at least once been through a very troubled passage in his life. There were other signs, albeit less definite. In two separate incidents, young women on campus had complained to police he was bothering them with unwanted advances, in person, on the phone or via text messaging. Last autumn, one of Cho's teachers, poet Nikki Giovanni, had become so disturbed by the violent imagery in Cho's work that she insisted he be removed from her class. 'I am not allowed to say what he was writing,' she explained 'But it was not bad poetry. It was intimidating. What I wanted was him out of my class.' He had also been taking pictures of his fellow students, many of whom had stopped attending class to avoid him. At the same time, Cho - in a rare remark to a dorm mate - said he might kill himself after the police spoke to him about pestering girls. The student reported the remark and Cho was sent for an overnight evaluation at the Carilion St Albans Psychiatric Hospital - the 2005 visit. 'Affect is flat and mood is depressed,' a Carilion doctor wrote, but noted that Cho's 'insight and judgment are sound' and that he had denied suicidal intentions. The next day, a judge, following the doctor's advice that Cho was mentally ill but posed no immediate danger, ordered him to take outpatient treatment. That was probably the greatest opportunity that presented itself to stop or help Cho. After that, he resumed his solitary existence, a phantom presence at Virginia Tech. Perhaps it was also the moment that Cho's deep resentment came to fruition. His stalking - though disturbing - was at least an attempt to reach out to other human beings. That grasp for contact had ended with the police and a stay in a mental hospital. It is not too great a stretch to imagine Cho's warped rage at such rejection. Perhaps, almost 17 months ago, the first thoughts of revenge began to take shape. At just after 5am on Monday, Karan Grewal bumped into his flatmate, Cho. Grewal had stayed up all night to finish an assignment and he had been to the bathroom before going, finally, to sleep. Cho looked normal, Grewal thought. Two hours later Cho killed Emily Hilscher, 18, and Ryan Clark, 23, at Ambler Johnston. Why he chose them - or that building - is not known. But investigators have strong suspicions that Cho may have had some form of contact with Hilscher, and have since been scouring her computer and phone looking for evidence. Cho's whereabouts immediately after the attack are unknown. Perhaps he returned to his dorm room; perhaps not. What is certain is that he eventually walked across campus to the post office in Blacksburg, a 15-minute stroll away on Main Street. The post office was busy with people rushing to beat the national tax deadline and Cho did not stand out among the crowd. He was posting a package - wrongly addressed - to NBC News in New York. It contained his 'manifesto'. He finally mailed his package at 9.01am, after a clerk noticed that he had put the wrong postal code on it. Then he made his way back to the campus. Cho - despite having murdered two fellow students - was still anonymous; the campus was still mostly normal. Unknown to Cho, police and university officials had gone down a disastrous blind alley in their reaction to the Ambler Johnston shootings. When police broke the news to one of Hilscher's room-mates that her friend was dead, she told them that Hilscher's new boyfriend, Karl Thornhill, loved guns and had recently taken them shooting. At 8.25am, university and police officials held a meeting and decided they faced a 'domestic'. Thornhill was tracked down in his car and pulled off the road. It was decided not to lock down the campus. They believed the gunman had fled, or that they had already caught him. Some time before 9.40am, Cho walked into Norris Hall, on the other side of the sports field from Ambler Johnston. Once inside, he closed the doors with metal chains. He wandered the corridors, even poking his head into the German class in Room 207. Students inside assumed he was lost and late for a lecture. Cho shut the door and resumed his wandering. He may have been dealing with last-minute regrets, mulling whether it was too late to turn back. More likely he was selecting his first target. He choose Room 206, where Professor Give Loganathan was giving a hydrology class. Cho simply walked in and started shooting. Aiming his two guns methodically around the class, he shot people repeatedly, wordlessly and without any hurry. Only four people survived in Room 207, by playing dead or being shielded by the bodies of their dead friends. Then Cho walked out. Yesterday, Loganathan was buried. In other classes, the popping sounds were greeted with confusion and fear. Some appeared to know exactly what they were; others thought it was noise from a nearby construction site. Cho walked into Room 207. He fired a bullet into the head of the German teacher, James Bishop, a well-liked 35-year-old. Cho then stood at the front of the class, killing students in the first rows and then moving to the rear. He fired and reloaded, fired and reloaded. Students fell dead or wounded. Others cowered behind desks. He went next into the French class in Room 211. Alarmed by the initial bangs, the teacher, Jocelyne Couture-Nowak, had asked her class in disbelief: 'That's not what I think it is?' It was. She told her students to get to the back of the class and began putting desks against the door. It was heroism on her part. But it was not enough. Cho barged in, shot her dead and then worked his way through her class. Cho then returned to Room 207. By then, students had blocked the door. Cho tried to force and shoot his way through. But, fighting for their lives, the students - some gravely wounded - held him off this time. It was the same in a computer class. Those students also fought off Cho, even though he fired at the door. There were many acts of heroism. Some staunched their friends' wounds and tied tourniquets around shattered limbs. Many blockaded doors despite having been shot. By now students and staff were fleeing through windows. As Cho walked from room to room, trying to find more people to shoot, he killed Kevin Granata, a biomechanics teacher who had served in the US armed forces. Granata had rushed downstairs and confronted Cho. He shot him dead. Then Cho tried to get into Room 204, where Professor Liviu Librescu was giving an engineering class. Librescu, a 76-year-old Holocaust survivor, had been urging his students to flee out of the windows. Most of them did. As Cho tried to enter the room, the ageing teacher flung himself against the door, buying vital time for more students to leave. But Librescu could not hold him off forever. Cho murdered him and entered the room. By now, it was almost over. Cho had fired more than 200 rounds, reloading an estimated 15 times. The police arrived, eventually smashing open the chained doors. Bodies lay everywhere in slicks of blood. Cho had shot many of them repeatedly in his determination to kill. Armed police moved from room to room, ordering wounded survivors to hold up their hands to show they had no weapons. Cho knew the end was near. He put one of his guns to his head and pulled the trigger. The shot almost tore off his face. When police found him, his guns at his side, they knew he was dead. 'Shooter down! Black tag!' they screamed. Cho's killing spree was over. The story of the horror he left behind had barely begun. When Cho's identity was first released, it came as no surprise to a few who had had contact with the loner. It confirmed their worst fears. But to most, the reaction was simply: who? Gradually, piece by piece, a picture of Cho's life has emerged. It is a disturbing one. Just as his time on campus was marked by solitude and anger, so was his school and childhood. Cho seemed to have been born in a personal mental prison from which he either could not escape or chose not to. The one true surprise was that this perpetrator of such an American crime originally came from many thousands of miles away. Cho was born in South Korea. His parents ran a small, second-hand book store in Seoul, the capital, and lived in a cramped apartment. They had been a reluctant husband and wife. Cho's father was from a poor southern family, while his mother's kin were landowners from the north, dispossessed during the Korean War. The marriage was arranged against the wife-to-be's wishes, but she had little choice. The family struggled to build a life and eventually moved to America at the invitation of relatives. They arrived in 1992, hoping for the best for their two children. They worked hard, in a laundry and a restaurant. And, like so many determined immigrants, they made it. They lived in a pleasant Washington DC suburb. Cho's sister, Sun, went to Princeton. But there was one cloud on this heart-warming story of success: Cho himself. Back in South Korea, the family had noticed his deep, sullen silences as an infant. His grandfather worried he might be mute; his mother thought he was mentally ill. A committed Christian, she tried to involve her church in reaching out to the boy after his silences grew worse on the move to America. She prayed for him regularly. It did not make for a happy teenage existence. Clearly depressed and struggling with English, Cho became a target for bullies at Westfield High School in nearby Chantilly. Once, after refusing to read aloud in an English class, Cho was forced to speak. When he did, students laughed at his strange voice and told him to 'go back to China'. He was teased as the 'trombone kid' for his habit of walking to school alone carrying his musical instrument. He rarely spoke, playing solitary basketball in his home's quiet cul-de-sac and ignoring the hellos of his neighbours. Things got worse in college. His fellow students remember reaching out to him at the start of class or when they moved into a dorm with him. He was invited to dine with them at local restaurants. But Cho showed little interest in talking. He would ignore them or answer in one-word replies. It was the same in class: Cho sat at the back, wearing dark glasses and a baseball cap. In one now notorious incident, when he filled out a sign-in sheet at the start of a literature class, he refused to write his name. Instead he put a question mark. In campus banter, Cho had turned from the 'trombone kid' to the 'question mark kid'. It became his totem. One of the girls he stalked awoke one morning to find a large question mark written on her room's message board. Undoubtedly Cho's stone-like facade hid a mind in deep distress. A few signs broke the surface. Once, at a party, Cho revealed to room-mates that he had a girlfriend, presumably imaginary. She was called Jelly, he said. She was a model and she called him Spanky. It was a brief and bizarre glimpse into Cho's inner world. Another incident occurred after he had been reprimanded for bothering a girl student. In a quiet moment, he told one room-mate that he had wanted to look in her eyes and see if she was as 'cool' as he thought. But he had been disappointed. He had gone to her dorm room and seen only 'promiscuity'. Such insights were few and far between. Some students joked about him being a possible college shooter. One teacher had a codeword she could use when teaching him if she became fearful for herself. It sounds dramatic, but she never used it. Cho continued to keep to himself. He wore sunglasses in class. He had no friends. His room had no pictures or posters. He often just stared blankly at the walls or ceiling. He slept with the light on and never shut his door. He was a walking void. The silence Cho maintained in life was broken after his death. The package he sent to NBC contained 29 photographs, 27 short videos and an 1,800-word diatribe. In the clips, Cho is hard-eyed, his voice a tense, controlled staccato of rage. He speaks quickly but clearly. He is no longer silent. The pent-up emotions of his damaged psyche boil to the surface. Cho finally revealed himself. Cho was severely mentally ill: no sane person murders 32 people. But such sicknesses vary greatly. Cho was no serial killer. He was not a sociopath. In fact, experts say, Cho's rampage was a form of suicide. He killed because he considered himself the victim; those he killed he saw as villains. 'This was revenge. He wanted to kill himself, but first he was going to take others with him, people he saw as persecuting him,' said Professor Jack Levin, an expert on mass murderers at Northeastern University in Boston. Certainly that was what emerged from Cho's own words. He felt himself utterly victimised. 'You have vandalised my heart, raped my soul and torched my conscience. I die like Jesus Christ, to inspire generations of the weak and the defenceless people,' he said. 'You' was the world as a whole, especially the students who he felt ignored him. He claimed he had not chosen to kill but had been forced into it. The coming massacre, he warned, was not his fault. 'You had a hundred billion chances and ways to have avoided today, but you decided to spill my blood. You forced me into a corner and gave me only one option. The decision was yours. Now you have blood on your hands that will never wash off.' Such transference of blame is rare among serial killers, for whom blame or guilt are alien concepts. 'It is a very elaborate blaming system. These people come from a sense of powerlessness,' said Gregg McCrary, a former FBI profiler. Cho also railed against what he saw as hedonism and materialism all around, perhaps revealing a deep resentment of his poorer background. 'Your Mercedes wasn't enough, you brats,' he cried 'Your golden necklaces weren't enough, you snobs. Your trust fund wasn't enough. Your vodka and cognac weren't enough. All your debaucheries weren't enough. Those weren't enough to fulfil your hedonistic needs.' It was the product of a diseased mind, but the words strike a tone horribly familiar to those who had shared creative writing classes with Cho. In poetry and drama classes, Cho had consistently produced work whose violence, sexual imagery and anger had upset classmates and teachers. One former student, Ian MacFarlane, had kept copies of Cho's two plays and posted them on-line. They are deeply disturbing. One, Richard McBeef, deals with a young man confronting his step-father about murder and child abuse. The second - Mr Brownstone - has three students describing their desire to kill a sadistic teacher. Reading the plays is not easy. They are violent, profane and obsessed with scatological sex. They are not like reading the mind of a deranged 23-year-old: they are like reading the mind of a deranged 13-year-old. MacFarlane said he had thought of what he would do if Cho were ever to bring a gun to class. 'I was that freaked about him,' he said. As people struggle to understand Cho, many experts think the specifics are not important. It is the tone of persecution and victimhood that matter. 'He is clearly clinically depressed, probably delusional, and has been so for a very long period of time,' said Levin. There are other tantalising clues the meaning of which may never be known. Cho was found with the words 'Ismail Ax' in red ink on his arm. The return address on the NBC package was 'A. Ishmael'. It is impossible to know what that means, but suggestions have varied from the Bible to the Koran to Moby Dick to a Turkish hip hop artist. One literary reference Cho used was obvious. He quoted Romeo and Juliet. 'My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,' he wrote. Cho picked out the words about forbidden love and turned them against his own identity. It was morbidly fitting. He had denied his own name in class. His last act in life was to blast off his own face. Cho Seung-hui did not exist in a vacuum. His actions sprang from the gun-drenched culture of America where buying a rifle can be as easy as buying groceries. The shop where Cho bought his Glock is Roanoke Firearms, standing on a busy road about half an hour's drive from Blacksburg. A bumper sticker on one wall declares, 'Buy A Gun For America'. America is a highly armed society. Gun rights groups argue that citizens have to be able to defend themselves. Yet it is also easy for deranged people to obtain powerful firearms. The statistics speak for themselves. There are 200 million privately held guns in America. Each year, they cause roughly 30,000 deaths and 300,000 gun-related assaults. Cho's massacre is just a drop in a very bloody pool. 'It is long overdue for us to take some commonsense actions to prevent tragedies like this from continuing to occur,' said Paul Helmke, president of the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence. That such steps have not been taken yet is the result of the power of the National Rifle Association and the popular worship of gun use it encourages. The NRA is one of the most effective lobbying groups in American politics. It is motivated by a desire to protect the right of any American to own, carry and use firearms. It has an annual budget of $180m and 3.8 million members. The NRA also contributes about nine times more money to politicians' campaign coffers than gun control groups. Even now, even after Cho and his two hours of carnage, few politicians dare speak out against gun rights, despite the fact that Congress is now controlled by the Democrats. In fact, the one thing that seems certain in a post-Cho America is that another such massacre will happen again, and that it may possibly be even worse, as each perpetrator attempts to 'beat' the last. Already a spate of copycat incidents have occurred across the country. In Houston, a man killed a hostage and himself at the Nasa space centre. In Florida, a teenager was arrested after threatening in an email to kill 100 people. Near Seattle, another high school student was arrested while in possession of three loaded guns. Classes in a Nevada university were cancelled after a man sent a text message saying: 'The Korean is my hero.' The saturation media coverage, and especially the controversial broadcast of Cho's videos, will provide an anti-hero for some disturbed youth. Somewhere in America, in some school or college, a future Cho may already be allowing themselves to think along the same lines: loneliness, victimhood, revenge and suicide - and all on a world stage. They will not find it hard to find guns with which to kill. 'We are in trouble. This is not the end of it,' said Levin. But, just as Cho's actions reveal the dark heart of an American society at home with firearms, it also reveals the other country, the emotional America, the America of positives. The America of his victims. The roll call of the dead speaks of a land of variety and opportunity. The dead should not be defined by dying at Cho's hands, but by their own lives and deeds. They came from everywhere. There was Minal Panchal from Mumbai, a graduate student in architecture. There was Juan Ortiz Ortiz from Puerto Rico, who loved to dance salsa and played the timbales. There was Waleed Shaalan, 32, from Egypt, who leaves behind a widow and three fatherless children. Professor Librescu had escaped the Nazis and Romanian communism only to give up his life for his students. There were also young American women, full of hope and prospects - girls like Hilscher, whose small frame led her to name herself 'Pixie'. Or Reema Samaha, 18, who loved dancing and planned to spend the summer in France, working at a children's camp. Or Austin Cloyd, 18, the daughter of a Virginia Tech professor, who went on Christian mission trips in the Appalachian mountains, repairing the roofs and plumbing of the poorest of the poor. Or Erin Peterson, 18, a star basketball player who was as gentle off court as she was ferocious on it. They were also young men such as Jarrett Lan, 28, who was about to graduate in civil engineering and had been a four-sport athlete at his high school. Or Henry Lee, who had come to the US from China barely able to speak English. He belonged to an internet socialising group called 'My name is Henry Lee' with other people sharing his name. In a recent online post, he had joked about having a convention. 'We wouldn't need name tags,' he wrote. Cho's victims spanned a vast spectrum of life. They were young, middle-aged, elderly. They were students and professors. They were men and women. They were biologists, engineers and linguists. They were black, white, Middle Eastern, Jewish and Asian. They were Christian. Hindu, Jewish and Muslim. They were American and foreign-born. They had all started that terrible Monday in the expectation that their lives would continue. Cho cut them short, suddenly and inexplicably, leaving behind unimaginable grief for husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, children, colleagues and friends. But Cho also ensured they were honoured in their deaths. Their lives were celebrated by a mourning nation. Amid all the tributes springing up on campus, the tone is one of happy remembrance as well as grief. Perhaps one example among the thousands can stand for them all. It was written to Reema Samaha: 'Reema, wherever you are, I know that your smile and your dancing is joyous.' Cho's own family are in hiding under police protection. They are also shattered and despairing. Late last Friday, Cho's sister, Sun, released a statement for the family as a whole. It mentioned each victim by name. 'Each of these people had so much love, talent and gifts to offer, and their lives were cut short by a horrible and senseless act,' Sun said. 'My brother was quiet and reserved, yet struggled to fit in. We never could have envisioned that he was capable of so much violence.' There is still a long way, a marathon, for this college, town and country to travel on the road to recovery. And incredibly many are determined to take Cho along with them. There is very little anger at Cho on campus, just disbelief and despair. He is not hated: he is pitied by many who wonder how someone can commit such evil, and slaughter 32 fellow human beings. Steven Dellinger, 20, stood on a rise in front of the main memorial. He thought about Cho all the time, he said. 'I just wish someone had got to him. If only he had been able to have a friend who could have helped him out.' Behind Dellinger, a row of stone blocks - a memorial - has been laid out in a semi-circle, hugging a cluster of candles and messages. Each unmarked stone is topped with a flower and a Virginia Tech pennant. They represent the dead. There are 33 stones. Cho, whose lonely life turned his mind in ways one can hardly imagine, finally has company. On Guardian Unlimited Full coverage of the Virginia Tech shootings Gun violence in the US Gun violence in Britain Full US coverage Related articles Virginia massacre gunman named Unofficial list of shooting victims emerges Massacre on campus Q&A: US gun laws World news guide North American Media Media CNN New York Times Washington Post Government Virginia state government portal US government portal White House Senate House of Representatives -- Copyright Guardian News & Media Ltd 2007. Original Source: Guardian Unlimited / EducationGuardian.co.uk http://education.guardian.co.uk/higher/news/story/0,,2063553,00.html
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Final Week: BU to review policies for campus security
Emergency notification system a main goal By: Lisa Davis Posted: 5/2/07 After Boston University felt the impact of several tragedies that brought into question the level of campus safety, officials say they will continue to review their safety policies and procedures, including ways to better reach the community in case of an emergency. "These events are starting to highlight, not only on our campus, but on other campuses, this issue of personal safety and risky behavior in a broader context than people have thought about it before," said President Robert Brown in an April 27 interview. Methods the BU Police Department uses to communicate emergency information to the community are important, said BUPD Chief Thomas Robbins, who added his department often reviews its procedures when a problem arises. "How you communicate in different emergencies is different," Brown said. "There is not one size that fits all." Robbins, who attended a Coffee and Conversation with the dean of students after the April 16 Virginia Tech shootings, said BUPD plans to add safety information for students to its website, similar to how BU launched a fire-safety website after the two deadly fires that killed three students Feb. 24 and March 16. The day after the Virginia Tech shootings, in which senior Cho Seung-Hui killed 32 people before killing himself, BU formed a committee headed by Administration Vice President Peter Fiedler to review emergency and communication policies, Brown said. "One of the things we put on the table was a blast communication system, which we do not have," he said. "People think that you can send 20,000 emails instantly. The fact is: It takes about 30 minutes to an hour, depending on the technology you're using and how you do it." In a town hall meeting last week, Robbins said he is considering the use of email and text messaging to contact the community in an emergency. It is currently impossible to reach every community member at once because the BU registry does not require telephone numbers and email addresses, Brown said, adding the committee is considering a change to his policy changing this policy. "The reasons you would like an emergency communication system are varied, and I don't think I would couple it just directly with the Virginia Tech shooter incident," he said. After the two off-campus fires, inspectors visited residence halls and reviewed their fire-alarm procedures. Brown said although it is important for BUPD to treat BU as a community, police must be trained to "deal with violent or disruptive acts that you'd find in any urban environment." "I think the most important thing for us, which I've said many times, is that we have a truly professionally trained police force," Brown said. BUPD trains with the Boston Police Department, and BUPD officers are official Boston police officers, Robbins said. "One of the things we train on is how to deal with Columbine or Virginia Tech [incidents]," Robbins said. "I'm comfortable of our response we have." BUPD works toward having its policies and standards match those of police and fire departments across the country through state and national accreditation, said BUPD spokesman Sgt. Jack St. Hilaire. "We've always had a good relationship [with BU], and nothing has happened to change that," said BFD spokesman Steve MacDonald. "We're responsive when they bring things to our attention." Boston Emergency Medical Response Chief Richard Serino said EMS has regular exercises in which Boston officials meet to discuss their responses to certain issues and to become familiar with each other. EMS held a meeting last week to address the best ways to respond to shootings, Serino said. "I think that most colleges in Boston have well-trained, well-equipped public safety staff," Serino said. "We are on a lot of college campuses on a regular basis." MacDonald said it is easier to deal with fires on campus than in off-campus apartment buildings because BU works closely with BFD. "Usually, it works smoother from our end, dealing with the colleges and universities, because they have full-time staff who work 24 hours a day," he said. BUPD, which announced last month it will revamp its methods, for analyzing a revamp in its methods for analyzing "hot spot" crime locations and how the officer force is divided into sections, will respond to any location on the Charles River and Medical campuses in two minutes or less, Robbins said. "We have authority to stop all traffic, including trains," said Robbins, who served as the Massachusetts State Police superintendent before coming to BU in June 2006. Although most parents are concerned about their child's safety, it is difficult for BU to hold students' attention about safety resources, Brown said. "We will have changes in orientation next summer that are not reactionary," he said, "[but] that are trying to change behavior of students as they come into our community, and to make them aware of risks and choices they make." The Charles River campus, which is situated along the traffic-heavy Commonwealth Avenue, can be a safety hazard to students who are not responsible pedestrians, Brown said. "We should not have to instruct people on how to cross the street safely at the age of 18," he said. There are no plans to change academic curricula to incorporate safety information, Brown said. "The question is: What is the balance between personal responsibility and the university's responsibility?" Brown said. -- Original Source:The Daily Free Press - May 2, 2007
LETTER: Shooter didn't represent Korea
By: Don Lucas Posted: 4/30/07 Two weeks ago, I was shocked once again when a maniac took so many innocent lives at Virginia Tech. I focused on the many news events that followed this tragedy in my home state. I reflected on the campus, wrapped in such scenic beauty, where my many of my friends attended and later taught. Virginia Tech is a university in which many of my former students attended. It is also a university where my former students and I visited while teaching and performing music. As I continued to watch the television coverage throughout the week, I had many reflections and feelings, including shock, outrage and compassion. Late last week, officials posted a letter written by the sister of the murderer. Her words touched me very much. I felt her pain and hurt for those who suffered at the hands of her brother. I perceived her words to be most sincere and heartfelt. In a week of such tragedy, this is the moment that produced my tears. I couldn't help but think she didn't have to write that letter. But she did. In the last ten years, I have had the opportunity to teach and perform music in South Korea on four occasions, most recently at Yonsei University in Seoul. During my first trip, I remember an older man looking me straight in the eyes and thanking me for the United States' intervention in his country years ago. I am very proud of the United States' involvement in the Korean War. South Korea is a beautiful country, a beautiful culture and a beautiful people. The Daily Free Press's article ("After VT, Koreans prepare for backlash," April 25, p. 1) quite, and cited the Korean values of community support. I would like to add the values of courtesy and a great work ethic. At the end of the Korean War, South Korea was one of the poorest countries in the world. Today, South Korea has the eighth-highest gross national product wordwide. I read in a recent book by Lee Iacocca that of all international students recently rated in math and science, Korean students scored the highest. The Virginia Tech killer did not reflect Korean values. But his sister did. I also have been reflecting on many of the Korean students at Boston University whom I interact with on our campus. These students continually demonstrate an excellence with dignity and class. I was so pleased to see written in the article that there have been no backlash incidents reported among the BU community. I am proud of our BU community in this regard. It is understandable to regret when a tragedy has happened by persons from one's own culture. I have felt this many times as a U.S. citizen. I have also felt pride in the United States. But I hope the readers of the Free Press will join me in answering Clara Pyo and all the students of the Korean Student Association. Yes, Pyo should celebrate, because her heritage, the heritage of South Korea, is still a proud heritage. Don Lucas Associate Professor of Music and Chairman, Brass, Woodwind, Percussion College of Fine Arts