Sad but Not Defeated
By Austin W.G. Morton
I wake up most mornings at the usual time, slump out of bed and begin my normal routine: give a good stretch, check my phone, quick shower and it's off to class, meetings, errands, etc.
Today my routine is different. There are no classes to attend, no meetings to sit through and no errands to be run. My phone reads "Wed, Apr 16," and I am immediately transported back to my dorm room in Harper Hall, where I woke up and checked my phone just one year ago.
I remember my friend Johnny beating down my door to tell me the news. I remember the phone calls, the instant messages, the e-mails and the blaring television with my school's name all over it. As my feet hit the floor of my house off campus this morning, I return to reality. It's 9:30 a.m., and my roommates and I are walking over to the commemoration at 10 a.m.
Like tributaries of orange and maroon filtering into the sea, groups of Hokies from all directions purposefully make their way to the Drillfield, the heart of campus, to pay their respects to those who were lost one year ago today. Standing among them, I feel strengthened, bolstered by a community that is no stranger to my grief.
As the names of the victims are read aloud along with a few words about each of them, I feel privileged to have gone to the same university as these remarkable individuals. As Gov. Tim Kaine put it, "The world was cheated on April 16 a year ago, cheated out of the accomplishments that were surely to come from these extraordinary lives."
Although the lives of our friends, family members and colleagues were taken in vain, that is not how we should remember them. The anniversary of the April 16 shootings should be a day that celebrates the way these individuals lived, not how they died. Most importantly, it should stand as a reminder to live life to the fullest.
I am sad today, but I am not defeated. One year later, those 32 lives are my inspiration. They pose a challenge to me to live justly, passionately and with purpose. I'm determined not to let them down.
By Amy L. Kovac |
April 16, 2008; 4:38 PM ET
| Category:
Austin W.G. Morton
Previous: A Day of Remembrance |
Next: Memories of Leslie
We encourage users to analyze, comment on and even challenge washingtonpost.com's articles, blogs, reviews and multimedia features.
User reviews and comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions.