Nobody was seriously hurt.
After putting together my experiences with a few other witnesses, I think I’ve reconstructed the most of the story. Or most of the story so far, at least.
So our hero was sitting in the law library, in the area that looks like the archetypical law libraries from the movies – long tables with oak chairs and lamps and lots of serious-looking people quietly leaning over books. Our hero is a 2nd year law student whom I don’t know.
I haven’t figured out the initial catalyst, but one minute our hero is sitting there and the next he is standing up and screaming, throwing books at surprised students, pounding his hands on the tables, and (possibly, not seriously confirmed) swinging his fists at people.
Our beloved security guard, “Calvin,” was urgently summoned from his post downstairs. Calvin was apparently able to get this guy to leave the library area and go out into the hallway. But our hero was still screaming and thrashing, but now hurling racist epithets at Calvin, who is black.
Somehow they ended up on the first floor (from the library on the third floor), which is where the handicapped entrance is, and where the locker room is. (Yes, we have a locker room at my law school.) This is where I can start speaking from experience.
I had just left class and was headed into the locker room. Right in the other entrance, by the handicapped door, was an ambulance gurney. “That’s odd,” I thought, but went on towards my locker. Then I heard a scream. It was like a trapped animal, or an angry bird: it took a second to realize that it was from a person. It was high-pitched, like a grown man trying to imitate a young girl. And it wasn’t formed into a polite “Ah!” or “Oh!” but more of a shrieking, like he was in so much pain he couldn’t even think.
It was coming from beyond the gurney, around the corner in the hallway. Everyone in the locker room was frozen in place. Now that I knew where to look, I could see activity beyond the door, and uniformed men scurrying around. The screams kept coming, and after a few seconds, they became constant except for the occasional gasp for air. Some more uniformed men hurried by and pushed the gurney out into the hallway. I could see Calvin was out there, as well as one of the assistant deans.
The emergency crew, paramedics and cops, hogtied our hero and put him belly-down on the gurney. I was heading out the door anyway, so I followed them at a respectful distance as they wheeled him out, still screaming constantly. They popped him in a waiting ambulance and were off.
A few hours later, the administration sent out an ambiguous e-mail:
The consensus around the school is that this was some kind of nervous breakdown. This is a stressful time of the year for law students, as finals are in a few weeks, those students on journal have their articles due, and those in research classes have their papers due. Something in the poor bastard’s head must have just snapped. I feel terrible for the guy, and I find myself wondering what it would take to send me over the edge.
Stress management, kiddies. Look into it.
