A Moment for Virginia Tech Victim

When I opened this e-mail from my friend Jonny, it literally made me stop my day. After reading the message, I asked Jonny if it was OK to share with my friends. He said 'Yes' - so here it is.

Peace,
Satch

A moment for Virginia Tech victim Caitlin Hammaren

From the window of my house and from yet a different window in my recording studio, I can look through the woods and see my neighbor's house. It is the only house I can see from my property. In a few weeks the leaves will start to show themselves on the trees and it will become increasingly harder to see my neighbor's house. In the summer months to come their house will be almost hidden from view. Our house is in the country and although there is plenty of land between neighbors, it is still a tightly knit community.

There is a stream with a beautiful waterfall that runs through my property. It also runs through my neighbor's property. The water rushes over the beautiful waterfall in my yard, but not before it passes through Caitlin's yard. Although there must be some land survey that delineates my property from my neighbors, I would have to go down to the town hall and look up the boundaries. Outside my window, from my view, it just looks like woods. Trees, plants, dirt, squirrels, deer, birds and butterflies.

The house through the woods is where Caitlin Hammaren lived with her loving mother Marion and stepfather Chris. There was no house there in the woods years ago when my wife and I bought our country house. Marion and Chris built that house so that their daughter Caitlin, an only child, could grow up in a beautiful and safe environment. I met Caitlin when she was about 7 or 8. My daughter is 7. She will be 8 on May 9th. Caitlin would have been 20 years old on May 4th. Senselessly, Caitlin's life was cut short before she could see her 20th birthday. She was one of the students who was shot and killed on April 16th in the Virginia Tech tragedy. But that is not, nor will it be, Caitlin's legacy. Not for me. Not for my wife, not for my daughter. Not for anyone who has ever had the honor of meeting Caitlin Hammaren.

I danced and laughed with Caitlin this past December at a Christmas party. She was home from Virginia Tech for her holiday break. Caitlin was all of the commendatory clichés one is inclined to conjure up in moments like these. Physically, she was stunningly beautiful. She was as full of life and goodness as anybody I have ever met. Academically, she was brilliant. Always at the top of her class. A natural honor student. I remember in high school when she won an excellence award. She wasn't just a "good" or "smart student." She was a member of the National Honor Society. She didn't just "play the violin." She played the violin in the All County Orchestra. She wasn't just "in the choir." She was the president of the chorus as well as a member of the chamber choir. Singing was a bond that Caitlin and I shared and talked about this past Christmas, while I snuck a Cosmopolitan for her from the bar. (Caitlin and I both knew her parents were nearby, watching with a reticent but accepting smile) She also loved horses and was an accomplished equestrian. If you want to know what Caitlin did in her spare time, she gave. She gave her love. She gave her time. She gave herself to other people; people whom she didn't even know. Maybe even you. Tomorrow, (Friday, April 20th) Caitlin and several of her sorority sisters were scheduled to take part in a walk -- the Relay for Life, sponsored by the American Cancer Society -- to raise money for cancer research and survivors. On a Web site that had been set up to help Caitlin and her sorority sisters raise support for the walk, donations in her name are still coming in. (*see link below) You will see that she was also one of the top fundraisers. Maybe someone you know has, or had cancer. Maybe you have cancer. I truly hope you don't but if you do, she tried to help you. She didn't have to, but she did.

Caitlin was NONE of the clichés one is relegated to reading about when someone of such beauty and grace is taken from this world so prematurely. That's because there was nothing cliché about Caitlin. There was nothing cliché about the way she approached life. The words "special" and "extraordinary" and a host of other superlatives come to mind but dissipate rapidly with the void that is left in the wake of struggling to validate commendatory clichés. In a world that is fraught with such abject misery, pain, poverty, injustice, violence, prejudice, hatred and senseless loss, it is easy for anyone, especially young people, to overlook the absolute beauty that exists as well. It is easy to become disillusioned, cynical and apathetic. Do you want to know what Caitlin wanted to go into after college? International Politics. In this world, at this time in history, she wanted to devote her life to International Politics! I fervently believe in my heart that she could have, and would have, made a difference in this endeavor. Again, for young people especially, it's easy to become disillusioned, cynical and apathetic and to overlook the beauty. In order to see that beauty, one has to work at it. One has to try. Thank you Caitlin. Thank you for trying. Today, your memory is making me try a little harder than I do on most days. You may have been much younger than me, and still a student, but today, you are teaching me. You are reminding me to try ... because you did. So many don't, but you did. You didn't have to, but you did.

Some of you who were at my wedding in 1997 have actually met Caitlin, though you didn't know it. She was the young girl who brought a pony over to the wedding reception in our yard so that your children could enjoy a pony ride. Caitlin and her parents made a trail through the woods and she patiently walked the pony and your children around the property, all day long in the August heat. All through our property and their property. Here are some pictures from that day, of Caitlin with her parents and the pony and some other young friends. Like Caitlin, I have watched these children grow up to be beautiful young women. I love them very much. They were classmates with Caitlin in Jr. High and High school and are now young college students themselves. They are grieving today.

She was a young girl full of life and promise. In the photos above she was not much older than my daughter is now. Now is the time that I will have to find the best way to explain to my 7 year old daughter that sometimes horrific events and great tragedies can envelope us all for no good reason. Now is the time that I must find the best way to explain to my daughter what happened to Caitlin and why she won't see her anymore. Now is the time to find the best way to explain to my daughter what happened to Marion and Chris. Now is the time to think about the other victims who I didn't get to meet, who were special like Caitlin. Now is the time to think about their families. Now is the time to think about you: those who I know and those who I will never meet. Now is the time to hug my daughter again. Now is the time for you to hug someone too. And so Caitlin, much like the stream that runs through your yard, through my yard, you have in your death connected me to everyone else. This moment alone is a testament to a life well spent, albeit too short.

When I turn my head to the right, I can see through the window, through the woods, the house where Marion and Chris will come home to from Virginia. I can't imagine the sadness in that house. It will never be the same. The view from my log cabin studio which sits nestled in the woods between Caitlin's home and my home, is altered forever as well. Life for me will go on and I will still try to create music here. It used to be a calming and happy place to glance out at while working and playing. It will forever be a sad view for me. But perhaps on some days, I will look out again and think about Caitlin and her family and cry, like I am now as I am writing this. And perhaps it will make my song a beautiful song, because she was. Caitlin was as beautiful a song as was ever heard. I wish you could have heard it. I was lucky enough to have heard it. I will hear it for all the time that I am on this earth because it will play forever.
Thank you Caitlin.

There is a beautiful stream with a beautiful waterfall that runs through my property. It also runs through my neighbor's property. The water rushes over the waterfall in my yard, but not before it passes through Caitlin's yard. Although there must be some land survey that delineates my property from my neighbors, I would have to go down to the town hall and look up the boundaries. Outside of my window it just looks like woods. Trees, plants, dirt, squirrels, deer, birds and butterflies. Birds that will, in the years to come, continue sing beautiful songs. A beautiful song like Caitlin was. Butterflies like the ones Caitlin used to run after in the woods between our houses. A beautiful butterfly, like Caitlin was ... and is.

We miss you Caitlin.

jonny, judy and rainy jane rosch