Four-Sixteen-Oh-Seven
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Four-Sixteen-Oh-Seven Ezra Brown Alumni Distinguished Professor Department of Mathematics, Virginia Tech Begun Friday, May 4, 2007; additions and corrections Tuesday May 8, Thursday May 10, and Friday May 11, 2007 The wind had been blowing in Blacksburg for five solid days with hardly any letup, and the Monday morning of April 16 arrived with no indication that it would stop. It did not stop. It got worse – a whole lot worse. At 8 a.m. that morning the barometric pressure was extremely low, but the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day as I walked from my home near the Blacksburg Library to my office in McBryde Hall. I needed to prepare for my Tuesday classes, the one at 11 in 211 Patton and the one at 12:30 in 211 Norris. My office is right in the middle of the side of McBryde Hall that faces Norris Hall. Shortly after 9 a.m., I looked out the window and saw a sheriff’s car by a tree just outside of Holden Hall, between McBryde and Norris. And then a colleague came running into my office, saying something about a shooting going on Norris Hall. I then saw police officers running toward Norris, and remained glued to my window, thinking “What could this possibly be?” I soon found out. As I watched the events outside of Norris Hall unfold, there was a knock at my open door and Sam Abboud, a member of the Hillcrest Honors Residential Community, came into the room. “Have you heard about the shooting at West A- J? Somebody shot an RA (Resident Advisor) and another student around 7 this morning!” I had not heard; Sam and his friend Michael Miracle from Hillcrest told me that McBryde was locked down, and asked if they could stay in my office for the time being? Of course they could, and while acts of unspeakable carnage were happening not 200 feet away, there I was, blithely talking to students about a couple of interesting mathematical puzzles. Occasionally I looked out the window and would see several groups of students racing out of Norris Hall with their arms raised, running toward the drill field. Again, I thought “Two students shot? Are they dead? What next?” You know about “what next.” Eventually, a uniformed officer knocked on the door, informed us that they were closing McBryde Hall and telling us that we should go home. Sam and his friend left, a few minutes later my wife Jo called, and I heard her say such things as “Virginia Tech is on CNN…a shooting in Norris Hall…are you okay?” “Yes, I’m fine. They closed McBryde, and I’ll be home soon.” A short while later, I looked out and saw that the frenzied activity outside Norris had stopped. People were walking, not running. As I walked home, I saw what seemed like dozens of police cars – actually hundreds – and began to realize that something really horrific had happened. I got home, hugged and kissed my wife, walked into our den, and watched CNN in slack-jawed amazement. My sense of astonishment and horror rose with each new report about the numbers of slain students and faculty members…after which my mind became blank. I had no recollection of the rest of That Day until two days ago (May 2) when I asked my wife, “What did I do on the afternoon of April 16?” She said, “You went upstairs to the office, you turned on the computer, and until 11 o’clock that night you did nothing but answer emails other than to talk on the phone about a dozen times, have supper, and go to the bathroom.” I did not, and still do not, remember having supper that night. ************************ On a more-or-less weekly basis, I send out an email to a few dozen friends, alumni, mathematicians, relatives, classmates from college and high school and a variety of colleagues from different times, places and venues. Since I bake Biscuits for my students, I call this email a Biscuit and its recipients, Biscuiteers. I sent out the following Biscuit, entitled “An Unimaginable Horror,” Tuesday morning, April 17, 2007 (with a few subsequent editorial comments): ************************ Yes. An Unimaginable Horror. Here is a haiku that probably describes it best: DAY OF HORROR There is no doubt that, On the sixteenth of April, God sat down and cried. http://198.82.160.236/ is the website you are looking for. Jo and I are well and reasonably sound. Thanks to all of you who have sent us your good wishes, either by phone or by email; they have been of great comfort to us. One of the slain professors was G. V. Loganathan of the Civil and Environmental Engineering (CEE) Department. Last year, he received the William E. Wine Award for Outstanding Teaching, Virginia Tech's most prestigious teaching award. (NOTE: On Thursday, April 26, at the spring meeting of the Virginia Tech Academy of Teaching Excellence, Dr. George Filz of CEE received the Wine Award and gave an eloquent and moving tribute to G.V.) Another slain teacher was Jamie Bishop of the Department of Foreign Languages and Literatures; he taught German. One or two times a week, I would take my lunch over to the FLL department's lunch table, and Chris was usually there. He was a familiar figure around campus: a tall thin guy who wore granny- glasses and rode a bicycle practically everywhere. A Georgia lad, “Herr Bishop” – as his students knew him – was a friendly fellow, easy to talk to, interested in his students, and just a real presence at the lunch table. Chris was part of the scene. Jamie loved talking about teaching, I was also from the Deep South, and I had spent a year in Germany, so we had lots to talk about! Another slain faculty member was Jocelyne Couture-Nowak, who taught French, and was occasionally at the Foreign Languages lunch table, though not as often as Jamie. “Madame” to her students, she would bustle into the lunch room, all smiles, say something to one of her colleagues, wave at the rest, and leave just as quickly. As the saying goes in the South, we’d “howdied” but we hadn’t “shook.” (NOTE: Jocelyne’s class was in Norris 211. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, my Math 4176 class met from 12:30 to 1:45 pm – in Norris 211. This is something I don’t really want to think too much about…) One of the wounded professors was Wally Grant of Engineering Science and Mechanics (ESM), whose son Stephen and our son Benjamin grew up together (well, "grew up" isn't exactly right, for they have both stayed very young at heart). I would usually see Wally at least once a week when I went to teach my Cryptography class...in Norris Hall. Another slain professor, Liviu Librescu of ESM, was a Holocaust survivor, only to be killed by a madman on April 16. The date April 16 is observed in Israel as Yom Ha-Shoah. In the US, we call it Holocaust Remembrance Day. The motto of Virginia Tech is ut prosim, which means “that I may serve.” That day, Liviu embodied the ultimate expression of ut prosim when he barricaded his classroom door against the gunman, buying time for his students to escape, and knowing that the gunman would undoubtedly shoot him through that door…and the gunman did just that. (NOTE: I have heard that certain figures at certain religious schools in our fair land have called the “men of Virginia Tech” wusses because they did not take action against the gunman. These figures have assured their students that their men would certainly take such action. I wonder whether they know that one of the true heroes of that Day of Horror was an elderly Jew who survived the Holocaust. I wonder…) I don't know if any of my students were killed or injured; I have heard from a few of them, and hope to hear from the rest. (NOTE: They were all okay; most of them emailed back, saying “I’m okay, and thanks for worrying about me!” and a fair number said, “I’m okay – but what about you? Are you okay?” The concern that my students showed for me replayed itself hundreds of thousands of times that week, in many places and at many times.) I will be going to a school-wide convocation at Cassell (pronounced "Castle") Coliseum at 2 pm today and a candlelight vigil on the drill field at 8 pm tonight, and at 7 pm tonight, we will be saying Kaddish at the Blacksburg Jewish Community Center. The Mourner's Kaddish is one of the oldest prayers in the world, and it is said at the time of the death of a loved one and at the anniversary of a loved one's death. It does not mention death or dying or sadness or mourning or grieving. It is a prayer praising and exalting God. Here is a possible English translation, together with a possible transliteration of the Hebrew: "Glorified and sanctified be God's great name (Yit-gadal ve-yit-gadash sh'mei rabo) "throughout the world which He has created according to His will. (Be-olmo divrah khiru-tei) "May He establish His kingdom (ve-yamlikh malkhu-tei) "in your lifetime and during your days, and within the life of the entire House of Israel, (ve-khayyei-khon u-ve-yomei-khon ve-khayyei de-khol bait Yisroel) "speedily and soon; and let us say, Amen.