Putting Down the Camera

This post is from my journal entry on the night of April 18, 2007, two days after the tragedy at Virginia Tech:

As we drove up to the Virginia Tech campus, we could feel the heaviness and grief. Most of the students had left including Chris [my brother] who was in the building next door.

[I decided on Monday afternoon to drive to Blacksburg after my last class on Wednesday to see him. It was announced that the campus was closed for the rest of the week on Tuesday and most of the students decided to leave after the vigil that evening. That same day, I decided I wanted to document the impact this was having on the people I love.]

With the camera bag over my shoulder, I approached the memorial. There were mourners and cameras scattered around the drill field, now only illuminated by the moon. I began to take out the video camera but I stopped. Tears began streaming. I had to put down the camera. Many times since I had first spoken to Chris at 10:04 Monday morning had I thought of the horror the students there had experienced that morning. But something happened when the flickering candles illuminated the names of those killed. My heart hurt. It hurt for the people that were killed. It hurt for my brother that was in the midst of the horror. It hurt for my sister whose friends had lost friends. It hurt for their families. It hurt for the terror the whole campus experienced. Standing there in front of the thousands of candles and flowers, I felt the terror and pain. I cried and I cried hard.

It took me awhile but I finally picked up the video camera. I wanted to document for my brother and his friends something that has made an indelible mark on their lives. It is not that I want to remind them of the horror, but rather help document their reflection.