April 26, 2007

White Balloons in Blacksburg, Virginia

Dear Friends,

It used to be that no one knew where Blacksburg was and when we bought our house here we realized why. It is a really small place, takes five minutes to drive anywhere. Now Blacksburg is famous.

These are a few of my thoughts about the past week. It started with the slowly growing shock of how many were killed. It was snowing Monday morning, the day Blacksburg became the center of the world. Three years ago we were also in Thailand when the tsunami hit, and not far from Pakistan when the earthquake reduced so many poorly made buildings to rubble.

We have been so close to these disasters but so removed and spared from personal tragedy.

Tim could easily have gone to Virginia Tech this fall; he could have been in the class rooms. Scott took classes there last semester. From Hilary’s view, the reality of what had happened started with the high school being under “lock down” the day of the killings. In class they watched the news as it was being told Monday afternoon. The school bus taking them home also had the news on the radio. Then it was announced that all local schools were closed Tuesday, then Wednesday, then the whole week, as school spouses, siblings, and close friends were on the list of victims. The boys’ lacrosse team coach, who was a professor, was also one of the victims. His daughter is on Hilary’s team.

On Tuesday we went to the service at the football stadium overflow. By then the weather was sunny with a perfect blue sky. The whole stadium was awash with orange and maroon T-shirts, as we stood in silence. The screen came on, showing George Bush and the other guests arrive. The sound was so unclear we could not understand much of what was said. It reminded me of the sound problems at Woodstock School. You do not expect that in the United States. But it was being there, not the words that mattered.

Before this week, I had not realized the importance of color as a symbol. For the whole week, everything—cars, the people in the cars, lampposts, you name it—was orange and maroon, the colors of Virginia Tech. The lacrosse sticks are going to take on those colors next week.

This Monday, on our way to the one-week remembrance ceremony, we saw the car parks are full again. Many of the hundreds of TV and radio stations have moved their vans away.

We stood with five thousand others on the Drill Field in the center of campus. The amplified bell was tolled at half minute intervals, the first one with no balloon, but after that, at each toll, a white balloon was let go into the beautiful blue sky, 32 of them, one for each victim, in utter quietness. Then, hundreds of orange-and-maroon balloons went up into the sky. It really was a very fitting symbolic gesture. No opening words, no closing words. What could anyone say? Then slowly everyone turned and walked quietly back to classes and offices, and on with life.

We are glad we are part of a connectional church. Presbyterian Disaster Assistance sent a team of counselors to VT. Everyone is involved. We spent Sunday visiting two of our supporting churches. One we revisited after 14 years; it is amazing and comforting to be welcomed after such a long time. Community continues to be a focus both in our professional life and personal. Being part of our co-housing community and the church community helps sustain us when hard things happen. Last week has made me feel much more part of the VT community.

Melanie

The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 114