In Memoriam: Three and a half years later

This weekend I visited the campus of Virginia Tech, a mere 5 minutes from where I currently lay my head. I'm sure we all remember what happened in April, 2007 on Virginia Tech's campus and if you don't, take a break, and visit Google before reading the rest of this. For some reason on that April day I felt like there had been an attack on my home front and I had to get to Blacksburg to see my family, mourn with the town, and be a part of the unfortunate, historical event. It doesn't define the town or the campus by any means but it will never, ever be forgotten.

I snatched up a last minute travel deal and headed from Seattle to Blacksburg a few days later. What I found when I walked onto campus the Saturday after the incident was nothing short of spectacular. It was a sea of maroon and orange with so much noise and pride I swore I was at a football game and a basketball game at the same time. It was pure Hokie pride, a mourning with color, and determination that life will go on. Impromptu memorials were set up, tents with posters, letters, and banners from schools across the state and country spread across the Drill Field. I signed one, stuck a "Today we are all Hokies" sticker on one and walked around, taking in the air thick with sadness and resoluteness.

Well, I didn't travel 3000 miles for such colorful enthusiasm. No, melancholy Eme Ashe came partially to mourn. The next day I awoke early and arrived on campus while the sun was still rising and the bright orange shirts were still folded nicely in hotel dresser drawers. I took a front row viewing of the signs, pictures, and flowers piled high for each student lost that day. And then it happened, the incident that would prove valuable for my Social Psychology presentation just a few months later in graduate school. An example of the bystander effect and social diffusion of responsibility.

Along with signs, pictures, and flowers were also candles. Candles in paper cups. Next to flowers wrapped in tissue paper. Any guesses what happened next? It's early Sunday morning and I am at the impromptu memorial with a handful of other mourners who got up early to see the campus quiet. I look down and notice near my feet a candle has burned its wick and moved on to the paper cup. As I keep watching I realize this flame, though small, means business. Sure enough, it ignites the tissue paper next to it and then a fire we have. All the while I am thinking, "That flame is going to catch that cup on fire. Oops, that cup is on fire! Whoa, that is totally going to catch the tissue paper on fire. Uh-oh, is that flower burning?" In the span of about one minute I can see the entire, flammable, memorial going up in smoke. I even take time to think, "That would really suck if this thing caught on fire. It's already such a sad time. That would be the last thing we want to happen." And still, I DO NOTHING.

Bystander effect: Everyone sees what is going on and yet, no one takes action.

Social diffusion of responsibility: "It's not my job, someone else will do something."

Eventually, I decide I can't let the flowers and pictures burn and no one else is stepping up so I have to. I recognize my limitations and rather than stamping out the fire, I pick up the flower on fire and hit it against the ground until the fire goes out. That's right, I picked up part of the memorial and beat it repeatedly against the ground while people next to me were crying. You can see why no one else wanted to do that. Meanwhile, by this point the burning cup is basically a raging inferno, determined to burn all the tissue paper in its path. I know it needs to be suffocated. I also know if I try to step on it, I will catch my leg on fire. (Anyone who knows me knows I'm right about that.) I start to panic. Seriously, this memorial cannot burn. It just can't. Why is nobody helping me? There are at least a dozen bystanders!

FINALLY, after several people watched me attempt to keep the Virginia Tech campus from burning to a crisp, a man hovers over me as I squat next to the fire, staring at it in panic, and says, "You got that under control?" No, no I don't.

"No, no I don't. I think we need to step on that," I say, pointing to the fireball at our feet. We both stare at it for a few seconds before he takes his huge, fireproof boot, and smashes the cup, suffocating the flames, and saves the day. HOORAY! What took him so long? Come on people, couldn't you see I was failing? Fascinating bit of social psychology in action right there coupled with a terrifying incident that really would have made the lingering media happy.

Here are some pictures of the memorial that day followed by some pictures of the campus yesterday, three and a half years later.

2007




2010