It is worth considering what makes coping with a fellow student's death so very hard. It is one of the tragedies of being a student at Cornell -- at any university, in fact -- that we must, every so often, deal with the loss of someone who took the same classes, trod upon the same pathways, socialized with the same people and loved the same University.


Perhaps it is these shared experiences which make such a loss so unbearable, even for those who did not know the deceased personally. We can scan the day's headlines and read about the latest bombings and mass genocides without emotion. But as students and residents of a community like that of Cornell, a single loss is felt by all.


And such was the case last night with George Boiardi '04, the men's lacrosse defenseman and one of four captains of the team. After Boiardi was struck in the chest by a ball in yesterday's game, Schoellkopf Field fell silent. The Cornell players held hands as the players from the other team, Binghamton, dropped to their knees.


It is moments like this, in times of the deepest fear and sorrow, that students -- and all human beings -- find it easiest to express our common bonds. It is moments like this when friends and strangers come together to show support for the survivors and to remember the deceased. At Cayuga Medical Center, friends gathered nervously in the waiting room as George remained in critical condition. In the Schoellkopf locker room, teammates surely sat in shock and confusion. In Bethesda, Md., where George attended Landon School, his old teachers will discover the news today and confer in hushed tones. In his Washington, D.C., home, family friends and neighbors will offer their condolences.


And today, Cornell University will be a campus with a tangible atmosphere of grief. Of sorrow that another student has been lost. Of knowing that we all share the burden of George Boiardi's death.


Attending class will be much more difficult today; taking time off to relax will be hard to do without thinking of what happened last night. Many of us will call loved ones with the thought in the backs of our minds that the grieving family could have been ours; that we cannot comprehend the death of a young college student with only a bright future ahead of him; that the randomness of tragedy could strike at any time and for any person.


These responses are clear not because The Sun has any special insight. They are clear because these reactions occur each time there is a horrible tragedy on campus or in the larger world. After Sept. 11, students just beginning the semester huddled in silence at the candlelight vigil on the Arts Quad, bound together by common existence and nothing more. After the close proximity of four student deaths within a month last April, the Cornell campus was similarly motivated to honor those who passed away.


And it is in that same tradition that Cornell will cope with yesterday's tragedy and, eventually, move on. To help students in their hardship and their grief, the University provides several means of assistance, including Empathy, Assistance and Referral Service (EARS), Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS) and Cornell United Religious Work (CURW). The Sun urges students not to hesitate to make use of these services.


George Boiardi was pronounced dead at 6:44 p.m. yesterday. The Sun extends its sincere condolences to his friends, family and all those at Cornell who will be thinking of him today.

Archived article by Sun Staff