The last month of my life has produced some of the craziest days of my life, hence this being my first post since the 20th of September. Just days after my last post, tragedy struck the Seton Hall community.
Jessica Moore's death was, and always will be, such a shock me (and many others, I'm sure). It is no secret that the beautiful village of South Orange borders the not so beautiful East Orange/Valisburg section of Newark. It's also no secret that almost every student leaves campus and goes to house parties every weekend. Even with this knowledge, never in my wildest dreams could I have pictured something like happening. Not here. Not at the college I go to.
When a student shot himself in the stomach in the Winter of 2008, I was a senior in high school trying to make up my mind on where I was going to spend the next four years of my life. When that story broke, I instantly crossed Seton Hall off of my list. I even went as far as to ask friends who had committed to attending SHU why in God's name they would want to go to a place like that. All my opinions changed drastically when my parents forced me to visit the campus that spring... I was in love. I knew that this was the place where I was going to get my college diploma from. And what made my decision that much easier was South Orange, the little trendy village that reminded me of my favorite town in New Jersey close to where I grew up, Red Bank. All the positives, in my mind, overshadowed that isolated incident that happened that February.
Now, almost three years after I made that decision, I do not regret a thing. This is my home, I know this is where I belong. Even when I think of life after college, I can't see myself leaving South Orange, I love it that much. There is one thing however, that is always in the back of my mind.
Over the years that I have been here, the crime that occurs in those neighboring towns of East Orange/Newark get closer and closer to the gates of campus. My freshmen year, muggings were not THAT common. Last year, it started to become a bigger problem, and now it is a very serious one. Just days after Moore's death, a person was mugged on Riggs Place... at 5 p.m.... broad daylight. What is more alarming to me is the gang activity not even a mile right of campus. East Orange is a hotbed for gangs, and every year things get more serious, and what seems like closer to campus. Granted, there is not much Seton Hall can do about all this, they do a lot to keep students safe on-campus. I just fear that one day, rather soon, the crime that is so common in the areas right of campus will spread to the village of South Orange.
As I type this, it has now been exactly a month and three days since the death of Moore. I will never forget that weekend for as long as I live. The phone calls in the middle of the night, the text messages I received, etc. Covering the story from a student journalist's perspective was quite the experience. I do not mean that all in a good way. I did not know Jessica at all, but what happened had a profound affect on me. I am a member of the Seton Hall community. I hurt for everyone that knew her, for her family. When I stepped foot on campus that Saturday night the private vigil was held in her memory, something felt different. You could feel the disparity and sadness by simply looking around campus, at the people solemnly walking around campus. It did not fully hit me until the end of that vigil when the News Editor of the Setonian, Jessica Sutcliffe, and I had the task of walking around campus and asking students how they felt.
For almost an hour, Jess and I did not know how we could possible go up to anyone and ask how they felt, what they thought. Eventually, we cleared our heads and actually got information from eyewitnesses who were at the party in East Orange that night. When we were going back to the office to put the article on the vigil together, we could still here the crying of mourning friends in the hallway. Up at the front of the stage in the Main Lounge where the vigil took place sat a circle of people (friends of Moore I assume), sobbing, crying on each other's shoulders. That is when it hit me that what happened was real.
The point of closure came for me the following Tuesday night. By sheer luck, thanks to my friend Kristina, I was able to sit down and interview Moore's roommate Jessica Townsend. My assignment for the article I was writing was very simple; I wanted to talk to those closest to Moore and celebrate the life she led. Just a few minutes into the interview, Nakeisha Vanterpool, who was injured in the shooting and lives in the same suite as Moore, walked into the room. I froze. This is the girl that Moore saved. She jumped in front of her and made the ultimate sacrifice for one of her best friends. This is the girl she became a hero fot. The power and emotional strength Vanterpool showed amazed me, and still does. She walked in confidently, head high, ready to talk to me. I will never forget the first thing she did as she sat down in the room. She found a piece of paper, a pen, and wrote down a simple word "Hi". She handed me the paper and all I could do was smile. The way Townsend and Vanterpool both acted and spoke cleared my mind, and really took a load off of my back. I felt so much better knowing that two of Moore's best friends felt so comfortable talking about everything, about their favorite memories of her. It began my personal process of putting everything together and getting my life back to normal.
And back to normal my life has become. As I sit in the Starbucks of my favorite little Village of South Orange, it comforts me to see how normal stuff is now. Yes, nobody will ever forget what happened that Saturday night in September, but keeping busy, to me at least helps a lot. Anyways, off to class I have to go. Hope you enjoy the post.
