Virginia Tech massacre hits close to home
Williamsville artist's daughter tells dad: 'There was a shooting - I'm fine'
by KIMBERLY M. KARCHER Editor

Melissa, Asha and Gustavo Glorioso celebrate during Asha's graduation from Clarence High School in 2006. Asha is a freshman engineering student at Virginia Tech.

For Gustavo Glorioso, Monday morning started as it did every week.

He was busy teaching at Franklin Middle School in Kenmore and awaiting his usual morning phone call from his daughter, Asha, a freshman engineering student at Virginia Tech.

Little did Glorioso know that within hours an entire nation would be captivated by the drama unfolding on the small campus in Blacksburg, Va., - the campus where his daughter, a 2006 Clarence High School graduate, was pursuing her collegiate career.

"She called me a little after 9:30 a.m. because she had to be at an appointment where the first shootings took place," Glorioso said. "When she got there there were like 10 police cars and ambulances in the area, and she thought it was a drug bust or something. But then the police told her she had to go back to the dorm."

There was no word a shooting had taken place at this time, so Glorioso said goodbye to his daughter and carried on with his classroom duties.

"Then I turned on the television to see that a shooting happened," he recalled, referring to the first reported incident in the West Ambler Johnston dormitory, which houses 895 students. "I called her back immediately, and I hear, 'There was a shooting - I am fine.' I told her to stay put and not to go anywhere."

Glorioso, who also owns the Gustavo Glorioso studio in the Village of Williamsville, had to resume his teaching responsibilities, but his mind was with his daughter, who was also celebrating her 19th birthday on Monday. Whenever he got the chance, Glorioso found an outlet to update him on the situation.

"After my lunch duty I saw the body count was up to 22, and there was another shooting in a different building," he said now referring to the second shooting in Norris Hall, the engineering building where his daughter's major courses are held.

With his mind racing, Glorioso couldn't remember the name of his daughter's dormitory building. He frantically called her cell phone - once ... twice ... three times ... no answer. He called his wife, Melissa, to see if she could recall the building's name, but she was also unreachable.

"It was heartbreaking," he said.

Fortunately, a half-hour later Asha picked up the phone.

"She was in the shower," he said. "I could have screamed at her, but it didn't matter because I was hearing my child's voice. I asked, 'Do you have classes in that building?' and she told me that this semester she was not taking any engineering courses.""

As the day continued, the realization of what could have happened overwhelmed the Gloriosos.

Questions over the university's response after the first shooting - not to lock down the school - plagued their minds.

"I don't understand," Glorioso said. "I work in a school, and we have a code red - if a person comes onto the speakers and says 'code red' there are procedures we take. We lock doors automatically. I cannot understand how a place like Virginia Tech ... a technology school ... doesn't have a system in place.

"Then the only thing they need to do is have one person turn the system on and say we are in lockdown mode. They don't need to broadcast anything else other than those words.

"When they have two people dead on the campus, and they don't have the person who did the killing, whatever the reason, it doesn't matter," he continued. "You don't have the shooter. There is a person with a weapon on the campus. Lock it down."

Later that evening, the Gloriosos phoned Virginia Tech officials to see what kind of safety measures they were taking to protect Asha, as well as other students.

"What doesn't make sense is they are planning all these large gatherings right now," Glorioso said. "They said they were going to put (4,000) to 5,000 students in the basketball arena when they don't even know if a second shooter could have been involved. Why group more kids in one area where more killings could possibly happen?

"The school told me that the students need to gather for support reasons and to be there for each other," Glorioso continued. "I think the kids' individual needs should be secondary right now compared to their safety. Have them gather in smaller groups with their friends and people in their buildings."

Glorioso said he has instructed his daughter to get support from close friends and, for now, avoid the large gatherings.

According to Glorioso, his daughter is lucky because she plays on the rugby team, a tight group of girls that will provide an excellent support system. That knowledge gives her parents some comfort.

"She called last night around midnight, and the team was all together," he said. "So she is having the ability to cope with people, and I feel better that she is able to deal with this whole thing better than her mother and I."

Glorioso said he hasn't stopped questioning his decision since yesterday.

"What should I do?" he said. "Should I get in the car and go pick her up? My eldest daughter, who lives in Boston, called to say they would pay to get her out of there, no matter what the cost.

"I don't feel secure with her still there," he continued. "The weight gives me a huge guilt trip. I keep questioning myself. What if I am making the wrong choices. It's very hard to get into Blacksburg; the small airport is located 45 minutes away, and it is not very accessible. But still, we are uneasy with the uncertainty of what may happen next.

"You think you're fine one minute, and then you realize what this animal could have done to you. He could have changed my whole life and my family's forever. He did it to other people.

"I was lucky I didn't have to get that phone call, but some parents did and some parents are still getting calls. It's absolutely heartbreaking."