The subject of school shootings has monopolized the news media since Monday's tragic events at Virginia Tech, but it has been at the forefront in my mind for the past three weeks or so.

It has been just over six months since a lone gunman walked into the West Nickel Mines School in the heart of Amish country in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, and killed ten children, ten little girls between six and thirteen years old. I received a phone call about three weeks ago from a magazine editor, who explained that they were interested in running an article to serve as a sort of follow-up story detailing how the Amish have been coping with their losses since then. She wanted to know if I'd be interested in writing it, and I agreed.

Early tomorrow morning, I'll be leaving for Bart Township, Pennsylvania, where the West Nickel Mines School was located. I'll be living with an Amish family for about a week, staying in their house, eating meals with them, worshiping with them. I'll become Amish for the next week, blending in and helping with the chores and generally trying to get my finger on the pulse of their community.

Monday's events, thus, are timely for me. They've given me a quick snapshot, a voyeur's eye, at how tragedy works and how it affects people. They've also shown me how people begin to heal, something about which I'm glad to have been made aware prior to embarking on my journey tomorrow.

When tragedy strikes, there comes a time when grief and shock begin to settle and the spark of human spirit returns and healing begins. Sometimes, it's so gradual as to be undetectable. Other times, the transition is palpable and plainly visible.

Yesterday afternoon, a somber, tearful crowd entered Cassell Coliseum in Blacksburg for Virginia Tech's Convocation. After Nikki Giovanni closed the ceremony with her poem, "We Are Virginia Tech," however, the standing ovation lasted over a minute and gave over to chants of "Let's go, Hokies! Let's go, Hokies!" from the crowd. [Watch it here]

This was one of those visible transitions.

God bless you, Mr. Vonnegut. You were one of the good guys.