Months ago I decided to take today off from work, similar to what I did one year after the attacks of 9/11, for personal reflection on an event that touched me deeply. Like with the Virginia Tech shootings, 9/11 impacted me indirectly, but very profoundly. I worked and lived a mile from the Pentagon. I saw the smoke rising off the Pentagon from where the plane had hit it that morning. I walked from my apartment later that day and saw the hole. All of those images made it extremely “real” to me.

Last year on this day, I was returning from a friend’s wedding in St. Louis. A trip of such happiness quickly turned to bitter sadness. Before heading into work, I started getting flooded with texts to check out the news. I began watching, and sat there stunned as the newscasts kept raising the death toll to unfathomable numbers.

In the days following, I struggled with my own grief. Why did this event make me so sad? I had long since graduated from Virginia Tech. Though I had friends that were neighbors of some of the victim’s families, and others that were taught by professors lost in the shootings, I had no connection to any of the victims or families. I almost felt guilty for being down in the dumps, when I couldn’t even imagine the pain the victims’ friends and families were feeling.

Then, it hit me. I realized how deep and strong my love for Virginia Tech was. It dawned on me why this event hurt so much. Virginia Tech, and all who have attended or worked there, are family. They are my brothers and sisters. It occurred to me that the pain I felt so deeply was because I truly felt like I had lost 32 siblings in those shootings. Though I will never know the excruciating sting this tragedy had on the blood-relation families or direct friends of these victims, I now have a better understanding of how deeply my fondness of Virginia Tech runs.

In the year since, my bond with VT has only grown stronger. That is due in part to my realization of my feelings. But more so, it has to do with the way the Virginia Tech community has reacted. Instead of being torn apart, Hokies have bonded together more tightly than ever. We have not let this define us, instead, it has driven us to do more. I only hope we can represent those who were lost proudly. And the outpouring of support from other communities all over the world has touched me and strengthened my belief in the human spirit.

Upon waking this morning, after realizing the news outlets were barely covering today’s events at VT, at least in the morning hours, I decided to read the biography of each victim on VT’s web site (Victims’ Biographies). It was extremely sad to read about the accomplishments, hopes, and dreams of each person. It was sad to see what might have been, and know it would never be.

One thing stood out in particular. It was in the biography of Mike Pohle, Jr. Mike struggled with a speech development issue early on in life, leading to teasings from other kids. As a result, Mike appreciated the struggles of others. “Based on his own experiences and even with his athletic success, Mike befriended those who felt they did not fit in or who were lost in the crowd with no one to turn to. It was instinctive for Mike to help; it was his calling,” stated his biography.

I only wish Mike had met Cho before that fateful day. Maybe, with such a wonderful person as a friend, this tragedy that still saddens all Hokies would never have happened. Going forward, if we all reach out to someone in need, the outcasts or “lepers” of society and show them the same courtesy we show everyone else, instead of fearing them and further isolating them, we can avert a similar situation, or at least make their blue days a little brighter. I know I could improve in this area.

To the 32 victims, here’s thinking of you. You are not forgotten, and never will be. You will always be an inspiration to me to enjoy life and to do more.

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