IN RETROSPECT, IT SEEMS unbelievable that troopers could kill three college students during a campus protest, that no one (except a student who survived) could ever be punished, and that state officials could wait three-and-a-half decades before doing something so simple as saying, "We're sorry."

Of course, it was not unusual that the governor and the Legislature and other public officials didn't apologize or even accept responsibility at the time. When a platoon of white Highway Patrol troopers opened fire on a group of black S.C. State students protesting segregation back in 1968, our state and nation were still very much engulfed by racial tensions. The troopers claimed the students fired first, that many were throwing bricks and at least one detonated a Molotov cocktail; the students roundly denied these charges. But after the claim, a jury acquitted them a. And many whites no doubt assured themselves that if black kids got shot, it was because they deserved it.

But our state long ago moved beyond that type of thinking. And yet year after year, governor after governor passed, and no one bothered to come clean, to accept responsibility for what our government -- what our society -- had allowed.

The first step toward healing came in 2001, when then-Gov. Jim Hodges became the first governor to attend the annual commemoration at S.C. State and told the audience that the people of the state "deeply regret" what had happened. It was an important gesture, although it was diminished slightly by the fact that a spokesman made a point of saying the governor's comments should not be construed as an apology.

Earlier this month, Gov. Mark Sanford took the next step, in a statement offering his prayers for the victims' families and saying, "I think it's appropriate to tell the African-American community in South Carolina that we don't just regret what happened in Orangeburg 35 years ago, we apologize for it." He explained later that "we can become so myopic arguing over who is at fault, when we can avoid a lot of it by simply saying, 'Look, I'm very sorry.'"

No words can ever give back what was taken from the victims of the Orangeburg Massacre. And it is legitimate to talk about compensation, as some have proposed (although it is unclear to us at this point whether a legislative investigation is needed to help determine compensation). But Gov. Sanford's words are important on many levels.

They demonstrate that we are continuing to grow as a society. It is significant that the apology came from a Republican, and one who so recently took criticism from within his own party for inviting a politically active African-American minister to give the invocation at his inaugural. It indicates that this man is serious about being the governor of all South Carolinians.

Beyond that, Gov. Sanford's words can push us all toward eventually bridging the racial divide that still defines so much of life in our state, by reminding us once again of a very ugly part of our history that many of us would rather forget -- but that is crucial to understanding much of the pain, tension and distrust that still exists among black South Carolinians.

When we as individuals wrong our neighbors, we can never have a normal relationship with them until we acknowledge our wrongdoing and ask for forgiveness. Even if our victims forgive us, we will continue to harbor guilt or even resentment. A society is no different.