BLACKSBURG -- One by one, Virginia Tech students walked before their classmates to claim their diplomas Saturday.

Although Tech's varied departments held individual ceremonies, they were united by their attempts to offer tributes to the victims of the April 16 shootings while celebrating the accomplishments of their graduates.

College of Engineering

At the undergraduate engineering-college commencement, the mood was celebratory but solemn. Halfway through the service, when a few students started to bat a beach ball around, a professor intervened and took the ball, as if to say: not appropriate.

There would be time to celebrate. But right now, it seemed, it was still too soon.

Engineering professors killed April 16 were recognized: Kevin Granata, for being an outstanding researcher, athlete and family man -- and for having shepherded many students into his office after he heard the first shots being fired.

The story of Holocaust survivor Liviu Librescu's heroism is so well known now that engineering dean Richard Benson hardly needed to recount the way Librescu blocked the door so his students could jump from the windows.

G.V. Loganathan was lauded for his kindness and intellect as his widow, Usha, was called to accept the university's prestigious Wine Award for Excellence in Teaching on his behalf.

Posthumous degrees were awarded to the three engineering undergraduates when it would have been their turn to walk across the stage.

The crowd in Cassell Coliseum gave standing ovations for each of the three killed -- Maxine Turner of Vienna, Jarrett Lane of Narrows and Henry Lee of Roanoke -- as well as to wounded graduate Kevin Sterne, the student who was carried away from Norris Hall, his photo now an iconic reminder of the day. Sterne made his way across the stage on crutches to receive his diploma.

Katrina Landon, who'd been Lee's teacher and International Baccalaureate coordinator at William Fleming High School, accepted his degree on behalf of his family. A year before, Landon had coached the former refugee as he wrote his high school commencement speech.

Lane's mother, Tracey Lane, was accompanied by her daughters, Alicia Farrell and Fawntane Shepherd, as she received her son's diploma. She clutched it throughout the remainder of the ceremony.

Jarrett Lane's friends wept as his name was called, knowing how much the 22-year-old civil engineering major had been looking forward to this day. "He bought his graduate gown months ago," said Liz Roots, who carried a scrapbook she'd made with Erin Burress to present to Lane's family. "And you just know he'd been standing in his room with his gown on looking in the mirror, doing his GQ thing."

Though the university furnished class rings for each of the victim's families, Lane had already taken care of buying one for his mom.

When he ordered his own class ring near the end of his junior year, Lane also bought an extra one for her -- in the largest size sold, so she could display it on her mantel. "Mom, I love you," it said inside.

Department of English

Near the back of the procession at the English department's commencement, Victoria Wilson said she expected the events of April 16 to be mentioned Saturday, as they were Friday night. Wilson had at least one class with the shooter, Seung-Hui Cho, a senior English major.

"He just never talked," she said. "We got paired up together once in class and he still just never talked."

The fact that Cho was a fellow English student made Saturday's English department ceremony more personal, she said, as did the fact that two other English majors were killed in the shootings.

The university will not say whether Cho was scheduled to graduate before the shootings, citing the Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act.

Cho was not directly mentioned in the ceremonies, but shooting victims Ross Alameddine and Ryan Clark each received posthumous degrees. Carolyn Rude, chairwoman of the English department, described the two students, using quotes from students and professors who knew them.

Clark, a triple major with a 4.0 qualitative cumulative average, who wanted to get a doctorate in neuropsychology, was lauded for his outgoing nature and his volunteer work to help people who are mentally impaired.

"He wanted to make life better for everyone around him," Rude said.

She spoke of Alameddine's sharp mind, his abilities with computers and the sophomore's enthusiasm in the classroom.

"Teaching was harder when he was not in class," Rude quoted a professor as saying.

Clark's mother, along with other family members, received his diploma. They received a standing ovation from the crowd and left to pick up another degree Clark was receiving Saturday.

Brent Stevens, a professor who taught Alameddine in three classes, accepted the diploma on behalf of his family. After the ceremony, Stevens exchanged hugs with students and made plans to stay in touch. He said that Saturday's ceremony was important because it gave students and professors one last chance to re-connect.

He said people don't want to get "bogged down in the sadness," but remembering the victims for what they did during their lives and what they would've accomplished is important.

"He was an amazing person," Stevens said of Alameddine. "And he would've done wonderful things. ... I feel this need to make up for the good he would've done."

Department of Foreign Language and Literatures

While other ceremonies Saturday were somber, leaders of foreign languages and literatures made a point to ensure joy.

Gleeful tunes trumpeted out of a series of speakers as graduates' families fiddled with their digital cameras.

It was not "Pomp and Circumstance," but rather a light, sunny song, "The Prince of Denmark's March," that sent students to their final seats in Torgersen Hall.

The department was hit hard in the past month.

Two instructors, Jamie Bishop and Jocelyne Couture-Nowak, along with 15 students in separate German and French classes, were killed April 16.

Department chairman Richard Shryock said that, in the end, ceremony organizers believed the students who earned degrees deserved their honor regardless of last month's events.

From early on, humor marked the day, whether Shryock mocked his troublesome hat as a wardrobe malfunction, warned students about notes asking for money in the place of their diploma or a proud parent screamed, "That's my baby," people smiled and laughed.

Shryock devoted less than five minutes of the 45-minute ceremony to those killed.

He read the names of the 15 students killed, each of whom was to receive a double-major certificate from the university.

The room was silent then. But no crying.

Those degrees were not awarded during the language department's program. Instead, they were given in that student's home department.

Freshman Austin Cloyd, who was in Couture-Nowak's French class, had already declared her major, thus was awarded a French degree during the language ceremony.

But, Cloyd's name was not read as other graduates paraded across the makeshift stage to pick up their diplomas.

After the ceremony, as a group of language graduates walked toward one of many receptions in their honor, they passed a shrine to their fellow Hokies who died that Monday -- plaques bearing the now-famous orange and maroon ribbons.

They didn't stop, just smiled.

The world was ahead.