Last word...

from me on this Virginia Tech situation. I say again, Bad Dog hearts go out to victims, families and those in pain tonight.

We do not yet know, and will not know for several days, at the least, exactly how this unfolded. We know there was a single gunman. We know he shot people in the dorms, then crossed campus and shot roughly 40 more.

We know this unfolded over a couple of hours, although it doesn't seem clear exactly how long the shooter was "active" at the second location. We do know he moved among a few different locations within Norris Hall.

There will be much speculation about the gunman's motivation - what drove him to such violence, what could have been done to "help him" before he committed the crimes. There will be discussions about more "programs" to "support" troubled students.

This is all fine and good, but it isn't the angle of this tragedy on which I feel qualified to speak.

Once upon a time, I was on a small Forward Operating Base, and there was a shooting. As often happens in such situations, very little was immediately clear. There was a gravely injured soldier, and with no other information to go on, word was rapidly spread that all soldiers must immediately load a personal weapon, confine themselves to their tent areas, and be prepared to defend themselves.

I feel qualified to speak to this: there is evil in the world. There are people who are evil, and there are people who are not, but who nonetheless commit evil acts. Once this begins, the only option is to limit the damage.

Focusing soley on the prevention of horror denies human experience. No matter what we do, bad things will happen.

LawDog has written very well today on the mindset required to counter evil and horror. He also points out that Virginia is a state that allows individuals licensed to carry firearms to do so on college and university property - Virginia Tech as an institution decided this would not be allowed. The Virginia legislature opted not to force universities to allow the carry of firearms by licensed individuals.

What are the chances that, had it not been forbidden, an armed student or staff member would have been in a place and time and tactical situation that would have permitted them to intervene? We'll never know. What are the chances that a student with a firearm in a dorm room could have stopped this horror after two deaths? We'll never know.

If any of those dead or wounded were my friends, my family, I would like to have had the chance to find out. I would like for someone, anyone - the janitor, a GI Bill student, a professor, anyone - to have been able to fight back. If it had been one gutsy, stupid soul three rooms away, who'd arrived only in time to shoot it out and save one student - that would have been a better outcome.

Listen, guns aren't the answer to every question, the solution to every problem. But - in a world where evil happens, and 32 people die at the hands of one sick bastard, it sickens me that the university administration clearly and consciously, with eyes wide open, decided to remove the ability of those in their care to fight back.

I cannot imagine many situations which would tear me up more than this: I imagine sitting in a classroom in the morning, listening to a lecture, backpack by my feet, coffee on my desk. I imagine hearing shots - knowing instantly, viscerally, what they are - hearing screams. I imagine my old instincts to run to the sound of the guns - I have felt it before. I imagine looking down at my backpack, in which any of my service pistols could ride comfy and concealed and realizing that, because I am a rule-following student, I have a graphing calculator. I imagine the horror of realizing that although I have the training, the mindset, and the ability to save lives, I do not have the tool. It would break my heart.