Cho was in grip of demonic power, says church leader

The real problem was demonic possession.

http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2007/05/06/1178390145325.html#


Cho was in grip of demonic power, says church leader


CHO Hyang-in, desperate to find help for her silent, angry son, sought out some members of One Mind Church in Virginia to heal him of what the church's head pastor called "demonic power".

But before the church could intercede late last northern summer, Cho Seung-hui had to return to Virginia Tech to start his senior year, said the Reverend Dong-cheol Lee, the minister of the Presbyterian congregation.

College might have been the worst place for Cho, classmates, church members and other acquaintances said in interviews. At home, he had his parents, his sister and some structure and discipline. At Westfield High School in Chantilly, Virginia, where he graduated in 2003, he was studious and had joined the science club.

New details have emerged suggesting that Cho's mental condition worsened at Virginia Tech, especially in his senior year after his mother had sought help back home. His isolation grew and his attention to schoolwork and class time dropped, numerous interviews revealed.

On April 16 he killed 32 people and himself in the deadliest shooting rampage by an individual in US history.

Cho's mother knew last year that he was troubled. Before finding One Mind, she had gone to several other congregations of various denominations seeking help, said officials at several Northern Virginia churches.

"His problem needed to be solved by spiritual power," said Mr Lee, whose congregation met Cho and his mother. "That's why she came to our church - because we were helping several people like him."

They told Cho Hyang-in that her son was afflicted by demonic power and needed deliverance, Mr Lee said. He would not say what they would have done to accomplish that.

At first Cho seemed to have tried fitting in at Virginia Tech. He attended classes and studied faithfully. He wore a Virginia Tech baseball cap, jeans and T-shirt to class. When funny things were said in his advanced fiction class last autumn he would smile along with everyone else, said a classmate, J.D. Medlock, 22.

But by senior year his flatmates never saw him with a book or heading to class.

Relatives in Korea said Cho had suffered from a mental disability from a young age. It remains unclear whether his parents sought psychiatric or other professional help for their son in addition to the religious assistance.

After the family moved to the US, his sister, Cho Sun-kyung, entered Princeton University in 1999. Cho was also academically capable.

Taylor Van Buskirk, who was in the science club with Cho at Westfield High, said Cho seemed to get irritated when other club members tried to talk to him.

But Mr Van Buskirk said he had no doubts that Cho was smart. During a science competition in his first year, Cho played the key role in helping his club win first-place when he figured out the right formula to use during an experiment.

"He seemed to be a math whiz," he said. "He just kept to himself. He studied by himself. He got good grades; he didn't have any tutors."

But by December 2005 Cho was exhibiting signs of trouble. Two students he tried to contact found his behaviour disturbing and contacted campus police. He was sent to a mental health clinic that month and a judge ordered him to receive outpatient treatment.

Cho was not close to any of the Westfield graduates who entered Virginia Tech in 2003. He made no friends in his first year, said Cho's room-mate that year, Francis Virtudes. He did not have visitors to his room on the second floor of Miles Hall. Cho moved in with Mr Virtudes part way through the year, but only after inquiring whether he played loud music.

He played video games, but students from the gaming club never met him. He came from a Christian family, but the campus ministers do not remember him. He knew something about video editing, but the regulars at the student television station had not heard of him.

Karan Grewal, one of five students who shared a three-bedroom suite with Cho, never heard his voice, and did not know what classes he took. Those next door, he said, never knew of Cho until April 16.