Collegiate Times

I went to JMU two weeks ago for one last hoorah with my old high school friends before we all graduate in May.

We spent most of Saturday bumming around, but as night fell, we decided a few drinks out on the town would be fun.

One $10 taxi ride later, we arrived at a bar we'd heard was having a good band that night. After the bouncers informed us the cover charge was $10 a person, we quickly decided to call the taxi back and take our chances at another bar across town.While we were waiting to leave, a large handicap accessible van pulled up about 10 feet from us. While my friends chatted away, I couldn't help but notice who was boarding the van.

As I watched, five or six young men came out of the bar. Each was extremely buff and muscular, but it slowly dawned on me each man was walking with choppy strides.

Looking closer, I realized every one of the men had one or two prosthetic limbs, and after squinting to read the name of the rehabilitation center on the van, it dawned on me that each man was a combat veteran. As I watched these men struggle to board the steps of the van, I was hit with several different emotions.

First I couldn't get over the fact that each of these vets was only a year or two older than me, if that. There I was, all dressed up for a night of fun, friends and alcohol, and suddenly I felt inadequate and foolish when compared to the veterans.

Second, I was the only one of my friends to even notice the men or seem to care. Third, as I watched these men struggle, I was struck by the bond of community and familiarity between them as they cracked jokes even in the midst of obvious physical pain.

Finally, part of me wanted to go over and thank them for their service and sacrifice on my behalf as a United States citizen, but I could not bring myself to do so.

What could I possibly say that wouldn't sound cliche to these men who had experienced such trauma and suffering?

After I said goodbye to my friends and came back to Virginia Tech, I slowly took my recent experience at JMU and realized it applied here as well. As the second anniversary of April 16 descends on Blacksburg I can't help but think of how many people must have felt as I did with the war veterans: What could they say to those of us who were here that day and heard gunshots as myself and countless others did?

I am sure people who learned they were speaking to a Hokie in the aftermath of the tragedy wanted to express sympathy but simply did not know how to without sounding like a broken record.

Like those combat veterans, those of us who were here on that fateful day are a group of people who have bonds forged out of common pain. Among ourselves we will always be able to find an understanding shoulder.

But as I discovered, there are bound to be people whom we have met and will meet who feel for us as Hokies. For me, it is a continuing source of comfort to know that even if it is not spoken, there will always be support for Virginia Tech and the Hokie Nation today, tomorrow and beyond.