For Christinia Krohn, battling through Liviu Librescu's Solid Mechanics course was a dual engagement. First, there was the course material. Second, there was the professor's accent.
"I went to see him during his office hours on the first week of the semester. I
couldn't understand a single word he said," said Krohn, a senior engineering major who is deaf. "He was so determined that I understood everything. He would repeat everything over and over until I understood every single word. He kept doing that all semester whenever I talked to him one-on-one. He would write them down if I still didn't understand him. He never gave up on me."
Slain on April 16, Librescu, a professor of engineering science and mechanics, leaves behind a legacy far greater than his slight build.
"He's a giant. This is a giant of a man," said Richard Benson, dean of the college of engineering.
Born in Romania in 1930, Librescu was deported by the Nazis at the onset of World War II, sent first to a labor camp in Transnistria and then to the a Jewish ghetto in the city of Focsani. Saved by local townspeople, Librescu, a Romanian Jew by birth, became a scientist but struggled under the oppressive regime of Nicolae Ceaucescu — his refusal to join the communist party and his support for Israel ended his career at the Bucharest Institute of Applied Mechanics. That was until a personal intervention by Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin led to his 1978 immigration to Israel, where he taught at Tel-Aviv University.
He and his family came to Blacksburg during a 1986 sabbatical. They never left — both of his sons would attend Virginia Tech.
As an academic, Librescu had few peers.
"I've only been here two years, but I've known him for many, many years before that because of his research," Benson said.
A grader in his fateful solid mechanics course, senior engineering major, Matt Dunham found Librescu's academic demeanor a careful mixture of demanding and caring.
At 76 he was still passionately working on many research projects when he probably could have been retired and enjoying the sun somewhere," Dunham said.
As a man, Librescu's peers may be fewer still.
In the rough-and-tumble world of allocating funding dollars, Librescu was more often than not a peaceful observer. Uri Vandsburger, professor of mechanical engineering, recalls one of his first projects at Virginia Tech fifteen years ago. Then an associate faculty member, Vandsburger set out on an ambitious venture: approaching groups like the Department of Defense for funding on a significant project. When disagreements arose over funding priorities, Librescu was content to let others do the arguing.
"He didn't take part in this… He sat quietly when everyone else was squabbling over the budget. He has seen much more significant things in life. He liked his profession but talking about money that hasn't even arrived yet wasn't (important)," Vandsburger said.
As with Krohn, Librescu's interaction with Dunham left him feeling uplifted.
"He spoke straight with you and told you exactly what he felt. He told me that I had a responsibility to live up to and he was right… He truly cared for his students and wanted them to succeed. I remember seeing how sad he was then I would give him a paper back with a poor grade," Dunham said.
It was this compassionate side that kept Krohn out of Norris Hall on the morning of April 16. Her grandfather passed away on April 15 and Krohn had asked Librescu for an extension on the homework due that day. Librescu e-mailed her an hour before class telling her to not come attend that morning.
When gunman Seung-Hui Cho made his way to Norris 204 early on the morning of April 16, it was Librescu who blocked the door with his body, ordering his students to flee by jumping out the windows.
"We heard gunshots in the hall and as they were coming closer a student stuck his head out the door and saw what was happening. The next thing I know I'm leaning out the window and Professor Librescru was against the door," said Caroline Merrey, a senior engineering major. "I really don't think me or my other classmates would be here if it wasn't for him."
Of the approximately 20 students present that day, only graduate student Minal Panchal was killed. His selfless reaction was unsurprising to those who knew him.
"I've seen in my life, people which I thought were very strong, very macho and whatever, and when the time comes they dig themselves underground. And I've seen people who I didn't think much about and they behaved like you would not expect," said a friend on the faculty who spoke on the condition of anonymity.
"He didn't have time to think about it. It happens and you react right away. Either because you were trained to do it this way or because it's in your blood. When you are under fire, and I am telling you from experience, you don't have time to think. You react right away. As much as I know, he was never trained as a soldier or someone who would carry weapons, he was never trained in how to react. But still he reacted."
Some pointed to his history as a Holocaust survivor as responsible for his immediate reaction.
"He was a Holocaust survivor, I am a Holocaust survivor, and our feeling is 'Never again,' we will never allow someone to do something that we will not defend," said Robert Heller, a former ESM colleague of Librescu's and a Holocaust survivor.
Librescu's history as a Holocaust survivor was rendered even more tragic by the date of his death: April 16 is Yom HaShoa, the day in which Jews all over the world remember the horrors of the Holocaust.
In remembrance of Librescu, Vandsburger submitted a motion to the faculty senate that would create an award for professor's who exemplify service to students.
"Not service to the community, not a teaching award, but someone who gives his whole soul to students. He had his heart in younger people… The last time I saw him, a week before he was murdered, and he asked about our children. He always wanted to talk about my boys, his boys," Vandsburger, who has three sons, said.
After a Jewish funeral in Borough Park, NY on April 18, Librescu was interred in Israel on April 20.
