We will never be the same

Her voice was weaker. Her eyes showed the sadness that comes with spending time with parents who were coming to grips with the loss of their son, Taylor Bradford.

There was something different about the speech from the University president whose speeches are usually firm and to the point.

There was something else behind her words of condolences and remorse.

I saw that same difference in Giona Carr, the Student Government Association president.

I saw it later in my reporters as we all worked around the clock trying to find out how this could happen.

I saw it in the eyes of Tommy West, as he tried Monday to put into words how it must feel to lose a child.

I saw it in myself.

I saw this change throughout campus this week, and I've struggled so very much to put this vision down into words.

How do you say I'm sorry for the loss of a man I never knew or met bet still very much feel the sting of loss.

Tuesday, I was driving down Zach Curlin, and I paused briefly, as most students do now, to glance at the memorial that used to be just a tree.

But it's not just a tree anymore is it?

It is not just another meaningless item to be passed by during your morning commute anymore.

I saw a man there, looking at the pair of lineman gloves that once belonged to Taylor, but were now attached to the tree that sill bears the signs of damage from Taylor's car.

He had the same look, the look that I've been trying to describe for hours as I sat at my computer this week.

I then realized what it is that Dr. Raines could never actually say in her prepared statements to the press.

There is a loss of innocence that will forever exist in this place for us.

There is a memory of Taylor's death that will forever surpass those we had of Carpenter.

It is not to say that we should fear to be here or hold any kind of malcontent for our University after the tragic night of Sept. 30, but to say or hope that this campus will ever be the same for this student body would be untrue.

Carpenter will always be a reminder to students of where Taylor, a man who friends say loved life and always had a smile, lost his life.

Taylor will always be remembered to us when we watch the Tigers on the football field, though Taylor was never given the chance to play a down for The U of M.

It should be said that the best college campuses and college experiences not only educate us but also change our lives and make us better people.

I never bought in to the idea that humanity could learn from violence and death.

Why should someone lose his or her life in order for us to learn the significant of life, a lesson we all surely knew all along?

But in this case, in Taylor's I case, I want to say that I will take something from this tragedy.

I will take from that night that he deserved better, along with this University and this city.

So I would ask those of you who agree with me to join me Thursday night in your dorms, in your cars, in your apartments and in your homes and ask for something better.

Thursday, this city will get the chance to vote for who will lead her for the next few years.

I am not asking you to vote, and I am not telling you who to vote or who not to vote for.

I am not suggesting at this time that Taylor's death had anything to do with a crime problem that continues to grow out of control here.

In this column, I am not suggesting that any act of by anyone one in this city could have prevented Sunday night.

But I am asking, for those of you who believe there is a God and that his blessing can be bestowed to those who ask, please join me in prayer Thursday to ask that the officials elected in the municipal election bring change to this city.

I would ask that you pray that God would stop our street corners and trees and parking lots from becoming temporary memorials to the fallen of violence.

I would ask that on Thursday, please ask for something better.

I would ask that on Thursday, you ask for a city where students like Taylor have a chance to play football, graduate college and know the experiences of a life after youth.