Message from A Virginia Tech Student You all have certainly heard by now what there is to know from the media broadcasts on the “Virginia Tech Massacre.” I wanted to write this to you, to not only let you know that I’m safe, but to share with you the experience this day has brought me. I had a class in Randolph hall which is about 100 feet from Norris hall where the shootings occurred. I woke up reluctantly this morning to turn in a project for my Mechanical Engineering Design class that had kept me up until 4 the night before. My plan was to go to the class, come home, and go back to sleep. When my class let out 15 minutes earlier than usual, it was only because my professor had completed the material for that day, and nothing more. As we exited the classroom, a building administrator came running down the hall saying, “No, no, stay in the room. We’ve heard gunshots but we don’t know what’s going on.” So we all sat back down, and the classroom was full of excitement and joking. Tech had experienced 2 bomb threats in the past 2 weeks that ended up closing campus, so we didn’t think anything more of this situation. We joked about someone wanting to get out of a test or something; the atmosphere in the room was light and exciting. About a half hour later, the door to our classroom opened, and 5 people were escorted in. Two were older gentlemen who looked to be professors, one was an older woman wearing a long coat and carrying a briefcase who looked as though she was a visitor to the school for business, and the other two were female students who were clearly distraught. The two young girls were bawling, very pale in complexion and were intensely shaking. Immediately, the classroom fell deafly silent, as everyone looked on in confusion—suddenly realizing that this might be something bigger than we thought. The 5 people sat in one corner of our classroom by themselves. After several tense moments, a friend and I approached the two girls who were crying, and we each began comforting them. I rubbed the girl’s back, had someone get her some water, and just began talking to her. After a few minutes she was able to start talking things out and eventually she was able to tell us what had happened. I will retell the girl’s story as it was engraved in my mind: She was in a classroom in Norris, seated near the door, when she heard gunshots fired in the hall. She and the student next to her got up and peeked their heads out the door to see what the noise was. They saw the gunman, and he turned and saw them. He raised the gun and pointed it at them as he walked toward them. They quickly slammed the door shut and barricaded themselves in with desks. They stood at the door and held it shut along with a number of other students. The gunman attempted to enter, and when he couldn’t, he fired two rounds into the door—none of which penetrated completely through the door. (Later the business woman who was escorted into our room would show us a fragment of the bullet she had pulled from the door). The girl said she could hear him running through the halls firing rounds, reloading, and firing more. A while later, SWAT team members came into their classroom and began evacuating people out and bringing them to Randolph hall where I was held in lock down. As she was being escorted through the halls, she saw several dead bodies on the ground and blood throughout the halls. The girl told me that when she saw the shooter, she saw his face. She saw that he was sad, and she told me that she actually felt sorry for him. This didn’t hit me right away, because at that time, everything was very chaotic. But after returning home later in the day and realizing the magnitude of this incident, I began to think about the girl’s story and how personal this really was. I realized that this girl literally starred down the barrel of a 9mm handgun, but she looked beyond it and saw the man holding it. She had mercy on this man as he was threatening her life with his very presence. For the rest of the day, the death toll climbed, and I kept thinking about the victims, their families, and how this would affect the world’s view of the school that I call my home. But still more, I thought about the gunman. This is a person who cracked. We have no idea what the motive was or even who this man is. I want to say this; when the media releases the name of this man, say a prayer for him by name. Say a prayer for his family by name. Do not curse him, though you may curse this event. As Christians—as people—we are called to be merciful. I want to be as merciful as the girl I sat with in Randolph today. I know I will be filled with this inevitable feeling of anger, and maybe hatred toward this man when they announce his name, but I will put that aside, and I will ask God to bless the family that survives him. God loves this man as much as He loves the people he killed. So let us not pray for the 32 victims and the single gunman, instead let us pray for the 33 human souls that met God today. Thank you for all of your prayers. I know a lot of you tried contacting me and were unable to get a hold of me because of the jammed cellular circuits, so I’m sorry if I have been unable to respond to all of you. I have been bombarded with voice mails, text messages, instant messages, emails, and facebook posts. I’m blessed to have so many people who are concerned about me, and I cherish that even more on a day like today. Pray for Virginia Tech as a whole community. It is a beautiful place that has never seen anything like this before this year, and I can’t wait until we are all able to enjoy being out on the gorgeous campus without looking over our shoulders or starring down the suspicious person we see walking towards us. Pray that people, when they are done mourning, are able to look past this tragedy and try to find the good that God has waiting for our campus. Love you all, Michael