Amid the hustle and bustle of everyday American life, it is not often that we stop and think about a serious issue until it smacks us right in the face.

We prefer not to take time out of our busy schedules to worry about the poor until we are cornered into a conversation with a homeless man on the street. We prefer not to think about the dangers of illicit drugs until we find out a loved one is battling addiction. And we certainly try not to think about how unsafe our streets are until someone reports an attack or a missing person.

But just last week, I got smacked right in the face.

My dad called to check up on me last Saturday while I was going about my typical evening activities. I thought nothing of it at the time, until he went on to tell me my stepbrother's roommate had been attacked the night before and left for dead near an off-campus student house on the seemingly safe, rural Virginia Tech campus.

I was stunned.

Brian McCloskey, an 18-year-old freshman described to the media by friends as lively, jovial guy who was always quick with a compliment, had a bit to drink before heading out to a typical college party. His friends lost sight of him at about midnight, thinking he had wandered off to smoke a cigarette. Blacksburg Police found him unconscious on a bicycle trail at 2 a.m., the apparent victim of an assault. A medical examiner determined Wednesday that McCloskey died of multiple blunt force injuries to his head, neck and back.

McCloskey was adjusting to life on his own, just like thousands of other college freshmen every year. By all accounts, he was a great guy and was never the type to actively seek trouble.

These events are not exclusive to locales hundreds of miles away from State College; they happen right here in our own backyard. In October 2001, Penn State student Cindy Song disappeared after a close friend dropped her off at her apartment following a Halloween party. Song has yet to be found.

Her disappearance brought the issue of campus safety briefly to the forefront of discussion, but those concerns have been forgotten. Four years removed from the incident, students still have not learned their lesson.

The name Cindy Song is about as foreign as Sanskrit to most Penn State students. When asked if she knew the name, one student said no. Only when she learned the details of the case did she become concerned about Song's disappearance.

We still venture into areas we know we shouldn't, we still walk home alone and we still gallivant around town far too intoxicated to make decisions in the best interest of our safety. We think we are invincible -- that nothing could ever happen to us. What more evidence do we need that it could?

Song, who was described by friends as independent and responsible, was your run-of-the-mill student and she has not been seen alive since before this year's seniors came to college.

McCloskey was your average freshman wading the waters of independence for the first time in his life, and he will never have the chance to mature into the fine man many have said he was destined to become.

Neither Song nor McCloskey went out looking for trouble, and they certainly are not to blame for the fate that has befallen them. Rather than dwell on the "she should have..." or "if only he..." it is imperative that we take this time to make the changes necessary to ensure we are as safe as possible.

Don't walk alone at night. Be aware of your surroundings. Pay attention to the alcohol you ingest.

We need to shed this notion that nothing could ever happen to us. It has happened to our peers, and if we continue to ignore the truth, it could very well happen to any of us.