As I sat in the corner of the security office the phones were ringing off the hook. It was a busy day for VWC security. There were cars locked with the keys still inside, various reports of rodents in the dorms, and lost key cards that needed to be replaced. I was there to interview the man who kept this "boat" afloat. The problem was, he was out saving another VWC student with a dead battery in her car. So I waited a while until everything calmed down. Then the grizzly bear of a man named R.E. Pope came around the corner and apologized for being a few minutes late for our meeting. Of course it was all right, because that is the kind of guy he is. He will go out of his way to help any student with anything from car problems to a deadline with a news story. "I get a good feeling form helping students and affecting their lives," he said. "I want to treat these kids with the same respect and dedication as I did my own. Of course, that means to correct them when they cut up." If you have never had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Pope, he is pretty easy to spot. First look for the VWC security uniform, easy. Then look for a Marine-issue buzz cut. Lastly, look for a big burly man with the funny mustache. It’s the old-fashioned southern-twist kind. He shouldn’t be hard to spot.

I asked him about any memorable or weird calls that security has responded to over the years he has been here. He recalled one instance where Virginia Beach Police were chasing a teenage suspect through Lake Edwards, the neighborhood borders the woods behind Village III, and eventually the kid ended up on campus and stole a golf cart from in front of one of the dorms. VWC security on bikes and foot chased the golf cart around campus until the police cars could get back around and contain the suspect. He recalled one Halloween night when some students cut the bottom off a pumpkin and set it on the head of the John Wesley statue. There was another instance of a near-riot on campus between two groups of athletes. Then there are the countless varmint stories. They start with a mouse here, and raccoon there, and usually end up with the question, "What are you going to do with it now? Please don’t kill it." Pope has only been at VWC for about six years. He is the patrol supervisor. Basically, he is the No. 2 cop on campus. Before VWC he had no real law enforcement experience, but his 20 years in the U.S. Marine Corps has proven to be enough. He is a veteran of both the Korean War and the Vietnam War.

His first seven years in the corps were spent in the infantry. The rest of his career was spent in Ammunition and EOD, or Explosive Ordinance Disposal. Basically he ran an ammunition/supply depot and was on the bomb squad. He was a captain and had a detachment of MPs for security. "That was the fun part," he said of getting to blow up the unspent bombs. "It did get a little hairy at times, but I’m still here to talk about it." He relates his time in the Marine Corps to his duties at VWC. He wants to limit the "wrong element." This would be vagrants and persons not registered as guests of the college wandering around campus. His goal is to keep campus safe and secure as his supply depot in the Marine days. His legacy would be to have campus safer and more secure when he is gone than before he came aboard. He initially retired after the Marines, but he just became too bored. He tried it and said "no thank you." When VWC came calling, he jumped at the chance. He really loves it here. "It’s like a big family," he said. "I treat these kids like my own children and grandchildren." R.E. Pope is built like a grizzly bear, but has the heart of a teddy bear. He really does care for the college and every student in it. If you see the man with the funny mustache, say hello because he will certainly say it right back.

A slight quiver in her voice and a pause were necessary whenever Cindy McCue mentioned her son Bradley. Although McCue, founder of B.R.A.D (Be Responsible About Drinking), gives presentations about alcohol awareness many times a year, it is still hard for her to recount her son’s death. But she does. She relives memories that many people would try to let go of, or forget about. "Public speaking is my fear, but when I have a message I find that it is much easier," says McCue. Students gathered in the Boyd Dining Hall on Feb 8 to attend McCue’s presentation on alcohol awareness and alcohol poisoning. McCue lost her son Bradley on his 21st birthday to alcohol poisoning and since then she has, with the help of friends and family, created an organization that gives workshops and presentations to educate people about the effects of alcohol and she travels to different colleges sharing her experience.

McCue began the evening showing slides of her family when Brad was alive. The message: Brad was an ordinary guy, just like you. If it could happen to him, it could happen to you. She also discussed blood alcohol levels and she showed a film vignette that emphasized decision-making, being healthy and abiding by the law. McCue does not tell 21-year-olds not to drink alcohol or not to go out at all, instead she emphasizes these points:
"Don’t let alcohol make decisions for you."
"There are no absolutes with alcohol."
"Don’t be afraid to call for help.

Originally the program was slated for the 1/3 dining hall, but many more students attended then were expected, so the dining hall filled up quickly. Whether students came to hear McCue speak because of the enticing Busch Gardens tickets doesn’t really matter. They were there and they heard the message. Sophomore Katie Roth attended the program because she knew the background of the speaker and because she felt like she wanted to go out of respect for McCue. "She was a lot more effective than a regular speaker," said Roth. "Because it really happened to her, it made it much more realistic." Roth said that she and her friends have been talking about the program since they went to it. "Everyone could remember what she said," said Roth. Freshman Allison Chan really liked the laminated cards that were passed around. They had information about alcohol poisoning and how to prevent it. "Many students drink, and they don’t know how dangerous it can be," said Chan. On the other hand, some students didn’t find the program all too effective. Some students left murmuring, "So, are we going to the bars?" Snicker, snicker. Junior Jonathan Quinn attended the program because it was "mandatory" for his fraternity.

Although Quinn found the program interesting, he didn’t think that it was highly effective. "I didn’t really feel that she reached the audience," said Quinn. Either way McCue had a heartfelt message that should sober anyone up.

His corner room is dimly lit by the ultraviolet bulb which has replaced the traditional neon strip that the rest of us cope with. On the windowsill, an optic illusion in red laser lights changes its form in a repeating pattern. Randomly placed Metallica posters break the monotony of the cinder block walls, but Metallica is not his favorite band. Freshman Matt Roop makes music the kind of music we blast in the car with the windows down. Or maybe it’s "chill music." "It has its own unique style," said Roop. "It’s kind of on the metal side. We’re not trying to be bad-asses or anything. We’re just playing what’s on our mind," he continued, excusing his "French." Roop has been part of a Richmond-based band, Anticround, since spring break of 2000. "The band is under a lot of construction right now," he said as he slid a disc into his cd-rom. As heavy undertones of cello mixed with guitar spilled from the speakers, he continued to talk about the creative outlet that keeps him busy even when he’s away from the band. "I wrote one song yesterday and I’ll probably send it to them," he said. "Usually I just play drums and write guitar riffs. Then we put it all together."

The three-part ensemble includes the musical styling of a cellist, a lead guitar, and drummer Matt Roop. Roop said the trio was a natural match with 14 songs fully recorded and three more on the way. "The first week we played together, we put together, I think, five songs and we opened at a bar that weekend," he said. "Some people there asked us to play downtown." Anticround has since appeared in Richmond clubs such as Alleycats and Twisters, as well as making appearances in house-shows. They are in the process of cutting a demo cd consisting of nine tracks. Typically demos carry only four to six songs. "The music is good, but it’s got a lot a different rings to it," he said. "Once the cd gets out we’ll be a little bit better known. The album should be out in March and distributed throughout Richmond, here, and Roanoke." The freshman may not outwardly hope to "make it big," but he’s more sure of his band than of his declaration of major. "If anything does happen with the band that puts us somewhere where I’m more involved with the band than school," he said. "I’ll just drop out and get an associates degree for something."