Shock Waves

September 11 reverberates throughout the campus.

On september 11, I was meeting with a dozen of my senior officers when an associate interrupted to tell us that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Within minutes we learned of the second plane and pulled a television into my office. As we watched the horrifying images on the television, we quickly moved to a discussion of Dartmouth's

response to these events. The second week of September was an in-between time in Hanover: We had several hundred first-year students and

fall athletes on campus. More than 200 '05s were on first-year trips, over 200 students and faculty were preparing to leave for off-campus programs, and, as always, many faculty and officers of the College were traveling. None of us could tell then who might have been caught in the tragic events unfolding at the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and the Pennsylvania countryside.

Our primary concern, of course, was for the physical and emotional well-being of our students, faculty and staff. We sent

an e-mail message to everyone on campus telling them what we knew—very littleand encouraging those employees who wished to be with their families to go do so. The always-responsive folks at Dartmouth Dining Services provided a community lunch in Thayer Hall for those who were able to join us.

Kathy Doherty, the director of out-door programs, and Justin Barnard '02, the leader of the first-year trips, immediately set up a system to get information to the students on trips. They sent out runners—many of them members of the cross country and ski teams—so that by mid afternoon along the streams, mountain trails and ponds of northern New England our students heard about the attacks. They also brought back those students who wanted to return to campus because they were worried about a family member or friend or simply no longer wanted to continue their trips.

A candlelight vigil on the Green attracted 1,200 people, including nearly all of the students on campus and several hundred community members. Several of us spoke about the need to grieve, about the strength of our community and about the responsibility we all had to look out for those who were suffering. Many of our students of Arab, Muslim or South Asian heritage, as well as many international students, have been particularly apprehensive and vulnerable both about their own safety and that of their family members. I personally met with groups of dents to reassure them, and our student services staff have done a terrific job. As part of my Convocation address I cautioned that we all needed to be careful to hold individuals, rather than groups of people, accountable for their actions.

It was especially hard to know whether we should proceed with some semblance of business as usual. The immediate freeze on all air travel gave us some time to determine what to do with our off-campus programs. We delayed their beginning for an average of two weeks to allow us, our students and their parents time to assess the situation. Ultimately we did go ahead with themexcept a foreign study program in St. Petersburg that we canceled for reasons unrelated to September 11—and nearly all of the students who were enrolled participated.

Following several conversations with the Ivy League offices, Dartmouth and the other schools canceled all athletic contests scheduled for that week. This decision was representative of hundreds of similar events and activities we needed to consider. The club officers meetings and the meeting of the Association of Dartmouth Alumni scheduled for September 14 and 15 were canceled. My wife, Susan, and I did proceed with a scheduled picnic for first-year students we hosted on the grounds of the Presidents House.

A few days after the attack, I received an unsigned note from an alumnus who had been staying at the Hanover Inn on September 13. He was very critical of the behavior of some of our students in the days following the attacks and of me for allowing it. As first-year students carried on the tradition of dancing the Salty Dog Rag in front of Robinson Hall, he wondered what had happened to a compassionate concern for the many people killed in the attacks. I would say in response that our students are indeed compassionate but like all of us were trying to know what to do. I regret he did not meet with the upper-class trip leaders who were trying to provide these students a "normal" Dartmouth orientation—even while knowing that normal had forevermore changed.

But this alumnus raises a broader point of how much normalcy an institution can support in abnormal rimes; how much laughter in a time of tears. It is a fair question for many of us now and one that we continue to wrestle with. Regardless of surface images, however, even though the business of Dartmouth has gone on, it is not as usual. We grieve still the senseless and cruel deaths of those who studied here, who had gone on their own first-year trips. We grieve the losses of others, friends and loved ones as well as those we were never privileged to know. In our grief, however, we need to focus on our responsibility to educate the next generation of leaders. That business as usual is even more critical today.