I heard of what happened at Virginia Tech Monday as I drove up the entrance ramp to Interstate 40 in East Asheville. An announcer on the classic rock station alluded to about 20 people dead. That's what they knew then. I had no idea what had happened, and now I can't remember where I was even going, to be honest.

It was one of those moments, one of those events that shape the timeline of your life. Pre-Columbia, post-Columbia. Pre-Sept. 11. Post-Sept. 11. One of those moments seared in your mind, one you'll talk about later, remembering with friends or family where you were when you heard. And the number? It kept going up, even though I wished, wished the news announcers would say it was over.

I'm far away and far removed from the actual experience and the aftermath. But as soon as I got home, I searched for information. I read the Web, watched the evening news and listened to part of the memorial service yesterday. It was overwhelming, wasn't it? Tragedy, the word, seems overused. But what other word describes it? What other words could describe it? It is that word in every way, every letter sounded out slowly, settling on your tongue, rolling before you, the air filled with it -- the looks of anguish and confusion and tragedy. Tragedy. Tragedy.

Prayers for Davie County

Like every morning, I woke up this morning and switched on NPR. Normally, it's not a jaw-dropping experience. This morning was different.

In what seemed like a 15-second spot, the news was that there was an explosion at a Davie County nursing home. One person was killed. Fifteen others sent to the hospital. In Mocksville.

My brother-in-law, Chris, has his mother in a Mocksville adult care home. I called home in panic. Got the answering machine. An hour later, I learned that it was the same home where Janice lived. She is physically OK, but really upset, understandably. The man who died was one of her closest friends and had eaten dinner at my sister's house. Another of her friends is one of the group in the hospital and, Janice told Maria, will likely not survive her injuries. Janice is without clothing and medication, which she needs desperately. And my sister, Maria, had been on the phone for hours trying to locate her medication prescriptions, her records and, most importantly, find her a new permanent place to stay.

Go here, here and here for reporting on this story.

But here, here is what makes my blood boil: It's been over 12 hours since the explosion/fire (it's not clear what exactly happened), but still NO ONE from the home has called Chris, who is Janice's emergency contact. Chris was on the road, in Eden, when a security guard -- who heard it on the news -- told him about it.

WHAT??? From news reports, the SBI is investigating. But, please, keep these folks in my home county in your prayers, thoughts, etc.