I CAN'T FIX THIS

THE APPALACHIAN SCHOOL OF LAW SHOOTING

Sue Dales closes her eyes at night, hoping against

hope that she will see her daughter in her dreams

just one more time; that she will hear Angie’s voice.

But try as she might, all she sees is blackness, there

is only silence. Danny Dales holds out his hand to

touch his daughter, but there is only cold and the

tears run down his face. Rebecca Cariens waits for her

mother’s embrace, but there is only emptiness. The

lights in our souls have been dimmed, but we will not

let them go out.

Every man knows that when your first child is born

you have a feeling of exhilaration; you feel you can do

anything and everything. You feel nothing is beyond

you. If you are not invincible, this child has brought

you close to that point; the child has given you the

true meaning of life. Then a January 16, 2002 pulls

everything out from under you—you come crashing

down to earth and hurt in ways you never thought

possible.

Danny Dales’ words on the day of Angie’s funeral will

always haunt me, because I think his words capture

what every father has thought to himself at one time

or another, “My whole life I thought I could fix

anything. No matter what was wrong, what was

broken, I could fix it. Now I feel so helpless. There is

nothing I can do. I can’t fix this. (I next turn my

attention to the Virginia Tech massacre.)