The Daily Gamecock

Issue date: 4/16/08 Section: Viewpoints

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Exactly one year ago, my hometown became the focal point of news media.

Blacksburg, Va., was on CNN on April 16, 2007, because a disturbed Virginia Tech student opened fire on classrooms in Norris Hall around 10 a.m., and killed 32 sons, daughters, husbands, wives, fathers and mothers.

That week, the entire news community descended upon my town. Never before had more journalists been in such a small town, as the likes of Wolf Blitzer and Brian Williams reported from the middle of Virginia Tech's campus. I saw news sets at the pond I used to run to with my high school track team, and media vans on the hill I learned to ride a bike on.

I spent most of my day on April 16 glued to my roommate's 11-inch TV, not even knowing why I was watching. I could not function that week, and I had never felt more alone in my life. The third day after the shootings, I had my father drive me home because I could not bear to be away from my little mountain town for another minute.

When I got home, I had to go to campus. I had to see where it had happened. I took my brother to visit Tech's cavernous Drill Field to a makeshift memorial. What I witnessed I will never forget. In front of Burruss Hall, the school's picturesque auditorium, laid hundreds of bouquets of flowers and goodbye notes to those who lost their lives that windy Monday morning.

That night, I found out that one of my high school classmates, Austin Michelle Cloyd, died in the shooting. Austin transferred to Blacksburg High my senior year, and she was always known to have the reddest hair and the biggest smile. Two days later, I went to her funeral. I had never seen so many heartbroken people in one place. Grown men approached her parents, eyes pouring, only able to mutter the words, "I'm so sorry."

When I got back to Columbia, I made the decision to transfer back to Virginia Tech because in my mind, everything that happened that day was my fault. I had lived there all my life, and as soon as I leave, 32 lives are lost. As irrational it was, no one could change my mind.

That is, until my family kept me here. My hall mates and my friends, they were my family. Just one week before, I had never felt so alone in my grief, but just a few weeks later, I had a family. Somehow, through things as simple as smiling and listening, they kept me from leaving.

April 16, 2008 is a day of grieving and remembrance. For me, it is also a day of gratitude for the people who were there for me last April.

I tell my story because I can only speak for myself. Everyone in Blacksburg dealt with the grief differently. My own mother's experience is so different from mine that I would never be able to recount it adequately, and I can't even begin to fathom the grief of Austin's parents.

On this day of remembrance, I only feel right stating what I will always remember - Austin's face, and the love my family here showed for me.

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