BLACKSBURG (ABP)—As the sun began to set and the wind continued to howl over a wounded campus and city, Virginia Tech students gathered for prayer, comfort and counseling at the school's Baptist student center.
Blacksburg, the small city that houses the university's 26,000-plus students, was even quieter than usual the night after a massacre unprecedented in American history. The gunman, who shot 32 students and professors and then took his own life, also had silenced the usually bustling activity on the commercial strips around the sprawling campus's edges.
One of the activities that did take place at Virginia Tech was an evening gathercollegiate ministry center, a ministry of Virginia Baptists.
Although barraged with requests from national and foreign news outlets, Darrell Cook, the lead Virginia Baptist campus minister, focused his attention on the needs of students. By mid-afternoon the day of the shootings, he had invited two of the school's other major Christian campus groups—Intervarsity and Campus Crusade for Christ—to join in prayer for the surviving victims and loved ones of those who died.
Before the gathering, Cook and ministry associate Mark Appleton counseled with the students who dropped by the Baptist center in search of solace or simply for a safe-feeling place to hang out.
Members of area churches began stopping by with pizza for the students. Some reported that the owner of the pizzeria didn't want to accept payment for the pizzas. They insisted on paying.
Tom Harvey of Cambria Baptist and Bob Jackson of Northstar Church were on the scene, too, bringing a sense of calm to a chaotic time. Tommy McDearis (see page 6), pastor of Blacksburg Baptist Church, who also is chaplain of the local police force, spent much of the day at the hospital. The church is located directly across the street from the Tech campus, and it has served as the church home for generations of Hokie students, faculty members and administrators.
When it was time for the prayer service to begin, students began to drift in, slowly at first in groups of twos and threes, and then in a virtual torrent of troubled young men and women. They grouped themselves naturally into fives and sixes throughout the center. The first question on nearly everyone's lips was: “Is anybody missing?”
Most of the students had spent a large part of the day tracking down friends and acquaintances making sure they were all right. When their own groups proved intact, they then began to expand their circle of concern to include classmates. As the evening progressed, names of people not accounted for began to surface—referred to simply as “the missing.”
As the groups of students at the ministry center dissolved and re-formed, sharing information and concern, some students openly wept. Many prayed. All hugged. They needed, it seemed, not just to be “in touch” with friends but actually, physically to hold on to each other.
The most common reason students gave for wanting to attend the gathering was: “I just wanted to be with people I care about.” Other students spoke of their need to support other students and be supported by them.
One student remarked that he had come just to be quiet. He had spent the day furiously tracking down his friends and answering his cell phone assuring family members, friends from home and campus acquaintances that he was safe. At day's end, he needed to sit on the floor with two of his friends and be quiet.
As the service began in the center's chapel, students who could get in sat on the floor while others stood in the back, filling the aisle and doorways. Many others, unable to get close enough to hear or see, continued their conversations in other parts of the center.
Over sandwiches and ice cream, the president-elect of Tech's Baptist Campus Student Ministries strategized with two friends about how to answer questions students will inevitably ask. Chad Wallace, a member of First Baptist Church of Newport News, and his friends also wondered how best to share their faith in the aftermath of the campus tragedy.
“I've seen Christians take advantage of people's grief, and I don't want to do that,” Wallace said. “I want to respect them and what they are going through, but I also want to point them to Christ.”
Robert Marus of ABP contributed to this story.