super-structure

As some of you may know, I lived in Blacksburg for about 20 months while working towards a Master’s degree in Civil Engineering at Virginia Tech. This was over six years ago so I’m by no means particularly close to the university anymore. However, I’ve discussed a little bit about my experiences there as well as the recent tragic news with family and friends and I think I would be remiss if I didn’t say anything here as well.

Most of my time in Blacksburg was spent holed up in either my apartment (supposedly writing but often watching TV and playing with a young Harry) or off in one of the labs setting up and performing experiments; either across the bypass at the large structures lab or on campus in Hancock Hall. However, of my time in class, all of it was spent in Patton Hall and Norris Hall. Patton Hall houses the department of Civil Engineering and Norris Hall houses a variety of departments, mostly engineering, and classes from various majors. None of the professors which I took course under, that I know of, were hurt or killed on Monday. That’s not to say that they were involved and directly affected, I’m sure they all are. At least one of my former profs was able to barricade his office against the killer. It’s hard to find a way to be thankful after such events, but I’m glad that even more people were not killed or harmed given the apparent mindlessness of the events on Monday morning.

I do not wish to try and tie my life to these events as they are only tangentially related at best. I do not appreciate when others hope to draw attention to themselves or to their causes by creating some false sense of attachment to tragedy. At best this is misdirected empathy but more than not it is simple attention seeking and does nothing for those who are truly scared by such events. Rather, I would like anyone who reads this to spend just a few moments getting to know those who died on Monday. They represent a cross-section of what makes Virginia Tech so wonderful of a school and why it must go on for the thousands of students and faculty there. They are of all different ages, races, nationalities, and backgrounds. Men and women who seemed to share one thing in common: a desire to explore the world through learning. I did not know anyone involved but I can say that I feel that the world is dimmer without them. Everyone deserves to live. These people seemed to be ones who made their school, this Commonwealth, and their world a better place through their lives.

Tragedy strikes all too often and all around the world. This particular one seems especially senseless. Unexplainable. Unreasonable. Far closer than usual.

Already, and in the coming days and weeks, people will try and attach this horrible event to their causes and opinions. Some out of true concern but most out of nothing but an attempt to turn sympathy into influence. All I can say is that this seems to have been the confluence of many small events that lead to one great tragedy. A troubled, imbalanced youth out of place who refused and rebuked help extended to him placed in a location where his obsessions could both be fed and hidden. Attacks on the many individual cards that made up a deck will do little good as far as I can tell. What happened was dealt by random chance as much as anything else. This is not to say that many policies and attitudes are not in desperate need of review and change. Only that the public’s appetite for placing blame isn’t likely to be satisfied with any one bit of this story.

I offer my sincerest condolences to the families and friends of those who were robbed of their lives in ways they could never have imagined. I also offer my condolences to the family of the killer as their burden is also greatly unfair. Even if we cannot find meaning in the deaths of these people, hopefully we can find meaning in their lives.

One evening last week, I got a chance to meet up with a couple of friends of mine who I used to work with back at URS Corp. (mega-engineering company roughly 1,000 times the size of where I work now). One is a soon-to-be Dad, like me, only a couple of months ahead. The other is the father of two boys, ages 7-1/2 and 4.

We’re all structural engineers and we did discuss the nerdy, engineering stuff for a little while. We also discussed running (all of us run) and some other non-work interests. However, most of the evening’s conversation revolved around dealing with pregnancy and raising children. It was great getting to talk about stuff like that with some good friends my age; one who’s been through it (twice) as well as someone who’s essentially going the exact same things as I am (really that Angela and I are, just through the eyes of the daddy side of life). It’s not so much an advice giving session as just a reassurance that I’m not crazy and that no one else really has a clue with how to deal with this stuff. I think I’ve enjoyed getting to talk about this with a lot of friends and co-workers and this conversation was particularly fun.

After dinner and a couple of beers, we called it an evening and decided we’d better get on home. As father-of-two and I were walking down the sidewalk talking, he happened to mention one thing that has also been on my mind a lot. He commented on how funny it was to talk with his mom and the differences on how he recalled his childhood and how his mom did.

Although it’s not exactly what he was getting at, I think this is something that both terrifies and fascinates me. I can recall a few instances of something that one or the other of my parents said to me which, although they probably didn’t mean to have so much weight behind it, stuck with me and really affected how I thought and acted. No, not some sort of deep mental scarring, just something that would guide how I saw the world from then on.

I was born in the late summer and, as in many places, that meant I could have started school a year later since my birthday was right around the time the school year began. It was around the time that I was closing in on my fifth birthday that my mom asked me if I would like to go to school. Now, I’m sure she even phrased it as “would you like to go to Kindergarten this year or wait until next year?” However, I interpreted as simply “would you like to attend school or not?” My young mind reeled at the possibility of getting to stay home and play forever. However, knowing that I wanted to grow up to be a scientist¹, I determined that the best course was for me to attend school and learn as much as possible. I decided that yes, I would have to go to school.

Now, rest assured, my parents were going to send me to school regardless. They just might have waited a year to put me in if I’d thrown a fit or something. However, had that happened, I would have had an entirely different set of classmates and friends; possibly even different teachers. I think that such changes could have been pretty relevant into how I developed. That’s not really good nor bad, save for the fact that I’m pretty fond of myself as I am now. Just an interesting thought on how one little passing question could have had such a dramatic affect on me.

Sort of a "butterfly effect" of child development.

1. You see, I was convinced that if I became a chemist or biologist, I could eventually discover how to turn ordinary people (e.g. – me) into superheroes. I particularly figured I needed to devise a red fluid which, upon drinking, would turn me into The Flash. I hadn’t yet decided if I would need to change my name to Barry Allen.↵

It’s A Girl! And a healthy, active little girl at that.

So, do you think our little girl looks more like me or Angela? I’m pretty sure she’s not done growing just yet, but we think she has Angela’s nose and my forehead! Either, way, I already think she’s gorgeous. I hold no hope of ever saying "no" to that face, do I?

This morning was our half-way OB visit and ultrasound. The technician was "99% sure" that what we were looking at was a girl. She was even able to identify girl parts¹, if you follow. During the whole thing we could see the baby getting, uh, agitated about being poked and pressed on. She was kicking and swinging like mad like she was at a punk rock concert!

To top it all off, the doctor said the measurements and images indicate we have a very healthy little baby. All of the measurements are those that fall outside of ones which are correlated with birth defects or other health problems. We couldn’t be happier right now, to tell the truth.

We have some potential names in store, but no clear winners yet. If we make up our minds I’ll let everyone know, but as for right now, it’s just "baby girl." Now, as I said before, we’ll have plenty of pink. In order to spare our sanity in the future, please consider other colors of the spectrum… Yes, mom, you can still buy some pink; just not only pink. Is that a fair agreement for the granddaughter? :)

Colors aside, thanks everyone for the well-wishes, guesses, fun old-wives-tale guess, etc.

You’re money may now change hands for the bets, as well.

1. So either it indeed is a girl or the someday most humiliated boy in the world. Of course, there is some error in the ability of to see with an ultrasound but the fact she was able to identify internal organs, both reproductive and otherwise, tells me she knows what she’s doing with that wand.↵