Cho Seung-Hui. It's a name that forever will be remembered with vehement clarity for the tragic shooting of 32 people on the campus of Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Va.

His name forever will be mentioned alongside names such as Timothy McVeigh, Terry Nichols, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, as a person who took our world away in what is becoming a very depressing trend of horrible April anniversaries.

His name forever will be hated, forever living in abomination.

Things might never be the same in Blacksburg, Va., and on the campus more commonly known as Virginia Tech.

The tears are flowing, and they will not stop for a long time.

But looking past the blurry eyes, past the surreal pictures and cell phone videos shown over and over again on TV, past the countless personalities arguing over who and what is to blame, we can take a positive out of this.

On Monday morning, Cho Seung-Hui, the man responsible for the worst shooting massacre in modern American history, brought this country together.

Frozen

I sat frozen in front of the TV on Monday, a lump forming in my throat as I watched everything unfold. I felt sorrow for the 32 victims and their families. I felt anger toward the man who committed this unbelievable act of cowardice.

I felt scared, wondering if something like this could happen here, on a campus that is so similar to Blacksburg.

But I also felt an odd sense of relief because I knew everyone else in this country had to be feeling the same emotions.

For a few hours on Monday, I knew the Rev. Al Sharpton and Don Imus had settled their differences. Free speech debate over a three-word phrase Imus made two weeks ago were forgotten.

For a few hours on Monday, I knew Howard K. Stern and John O'Quinn, key players in the childish fight in the ongoing Anna Nicole Smith saga, were shaking their heads as the death toll rose in Blacksburg.

Even close to home, for a few hours on Monday, I knew CMU Young Americans for Freedom spokesperson Dennis Lennox II and Student Government Association Senator Matthew Bush had stopped their finger-pointing war in the debate over anti-gay chalkings made on campus last week.

For a few hours on Monday, Cho Seung-Hui made us forget about the stupid and shameful things we debate about every other day in America.

Too often we take things for granted. Too often we love to listen to ourselves talk. Too often we disagree on petty things.

But on Monday, we, as a nation, forgot about our mistakes.

And we grieved as one.

We grieved on April 19, 1995, when McVeigh and Nichols took away the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City, when they took away 168 of our neighbors, when they brought the words "domestic terrorism" a whole new meaning.

We grieved again on April 20, 1999, when Harris and Klebold took away 12 of our future scholars, when they took away one of our established teachers, when they took away our surety that schools were safe.

We grieved yet again on Sept. 11, 2001, when terrorists took away our beloved New York skyline, when they took away our field in Pennsylvania, when they took away our Pentagon, when they took away 3,000 more of our neighbors.

The list, unfortunately, goes on. And, sadly, it's only a matter of time before another travesty devastates our nation.

It will be hard for the citizens of Blacksburg to ever recover from this horrible event. Monday, April 16, 2007, is yet another day Americans forever will remember for all the wrong reasons.

The tears are flowing, and they will not stop for a long time.

For the families and friends affected, nothing ever will replace those who died.

But they can be sure about one thing - for a few hours Monday, all of us put our differences aside.

We were there for you.

And that's something Cho Seung-Hui never can take away.

kmacmillan@cm-life.com