Seton: ‘A family in the midst of this tragic loss’

By Andrew Lauria
Librarian, Seton Catholic Central, Plattsburgh

I was in the grocery store when I got the phone call: “Two of our International Students have been killed.  They were hit by a car.  We don’t know anything more than that.” Although it has been written many times, the old saying is true: “Nothing can prepare you for this.”  And a feeling of being unprepared was true not only of the great tragedy experienced by the Seton Catholic community on November 15th, but of the even more powerful reality of love that we have experienced ever since.

In the wake of a true nightmare, nothing could have prepared me for the unceasing goodness that followed.
In reflecting about the loss of our two students, Dat and Chu (Allen), I went to my good friend and colleague Mary Anne Trombley, who was the boys’ English teacher here at Seton.  I asked her what the most prominent reality was about the accident and she said this: “Seton has truly become a family amidst the tragic loss of Dat and Allen.  We teachers, staff, and students have grieved the loss of two or our own in every way that family members grieve and eventually heal, even though we have been scarred.” I agreed with her completely and began to ponder the reality of healing, the reality of the power of real love.  And this made me think of the lotus flowers.

Before we left for Thanksgiving Break, Seton Catholic held a memorial service for the two boys.  In support on the memorial service, one of our Chinese students began making one paper lotus flower for each person that would be attending that day. She started the project in study hall on her own accord, telling the other students that the flowers represented purity and rebirth.  She saw it as a fitting remembrance to the two boys.As the day went on and word about this project spread throughout the student body, everyone who heard of it began to help make flowers.  It was an act of solidarity among members of the Seton school community and stood out as an experience of love and remembrance, which starkly contrasted the fear and sadness that we had come to know. Mary Anne brought this to my attention and I began to see what she was seeing.  “The flowers forged a bond of trust and love between our International Student community and the local community of students, faculty and staff, parents and host families all over the North Country,” she said. The idea of the lotus flowers was the beginning of an incredible spiritual experience here at Seton Catholic.

At the memorial for Dat and Allen, students and faculty honored the traditions of their native countries of Vietnam and China, respectively, and wore only black and white; there was atypical quiet in the halls; the atmosphere had become naturally somber, and everyone who entered the school that day knew that it was Holy Ground. The memorial took place in our gym with the family of Allen in attendance as well as many community members.  It was one of the more gripping experiences of my life. 

If my recent World Youth Day experience taught me about the possible highs of human fulfillment, then this moment was an experience of our incredible capacity for loss.  Readings from scripture and traditional Buddhist prayers were read while incense filled the air near the pictures of the two boys that stood as the focal piece in the middle of the room.  The ceremony ended with the release of two mourning doves as a traditional Eastern symbol for the release of the boys’ souls. I felt my own soul release when the birds took flight.  That moment will stay with me forever.  We, as a community, as a family, had grieved together and now had let go of our boys and sent them to the arms of our God.

They say that the older you get, the more you realize how little you know.  I think this is true.  But I hope that the unmistakable presence of God that we experienced here at Seton the past few weeks becomes ever-more true as we continue on in this life. And, even more so, I hope that we come to the realization that we do not have to be prepared for a future that is not ours to own; we must simply love and this is something for which God keeps us always prepared.