Active Shooter Incident at Villanova University
On Thursday, August 21st, at around 4:30 PM, my wife, my youngest daughter, and I found ourselves in the soft light of a cloudy afternoon at Villanova University for the welcome mass. It felt significant—my daughter was officially a freshman, part of the distinctive Class of 2029.
We didn’t fully expect what would unfold next.
“It’s all about education,” I said. The first act of courage isn’t necessarily reckless; there’s a lesson in that.
At 4:34 PM, our phones buzzed. A Nova Alert came through:
Active Shooter Incident Warning
Active shooter on the VU campus. Move to a safe place.
Lock/barricade door. Details to follow.
My daughter showed my wife the message, and the atmosphere shifted as confusion set in. A chair crashed to the floor, echoing like raindrops. It wasn’t hard to imagine a storm pushing everyone indoors.
People began tweeting frantically. It was chaotic; I wasn’t even aware of the alert yet. Was there a fire? A vehicle attack? Maybe a wild animal? Who knows?
The ancient Greeks talked about gods in battle, and at that moment, fear felt like its own deity, taking control of the crowd at Villanova.
“Dad, run!” my daughter shouted. Both she and my wife were already on the move. I tried to keep up, but they quickly disappeared into the throng. I made my way to Connelly Plaza, scanning the area. Eventually, my daughter called from inside the Connelly Center, insisting I stay outside. Meanwhile, I managed to get a location on my wife’s phone; she was at Dougherty Hall.
Heavily armed officers strode through the chaos, calling for people to clear the library. I tried to direct them where I could. Someone in Dougherty recognized me and came over.
Inside, I found my wife’s wallet and phone—someone had kindly brought them in. She contacted me through a stranger’s phone, noting she was nearby in Isan’s parking lot. Along with a few other dads, I stood waiting by the glass doors of Dougherty, trying to grasp what was happening. An hour and a half seemed to stretch on.
It’s all about education. The first step toward virtue doesn’t equate to reckless bravery. That afternoon, I really learned something about that.
Panic spread faster than any bullet could. The faces around me, they seemed to reveal a firsthand understanding of the threat. Yet, in reality, most people were just reacting to the alert, feeding off the fear they saw mirrored in others. Such fear can morph into misinformation quickly.
It’s striking how, even in the midst of genuine concern, false alarms can wreak havoc. St. Augustine once said, “In hope there are two beautiful daughters: anger and courage.” At Villanova, the vulnerability exposed that day mirrored those words, revealing how easily trust can be weaponized in these situations.
The weekend saw similar incidents, both at the University of South Carolina and Villanova, showcasing a troubling pattern of hoaxes, causing both physical and psychological distress among students and families.
We have to ensure our safety protocols don’t lead to more chaos. Courage, thoughtful responses, and effective communication are crucial to navigate such crises. When genuine threats emerge—or even when we’re misled—we need to stabilize the atmosphere among students and parents, urging them toward calm, instead of panic. I witnessed that in real-time from Dougherty Hall. And I can’t help but think we’ll need that courage again soon.
