Tuesday, April 15, 2014
One year later - Boston Marathon Bombing
I am trying to limit my consumption of media today, but it's hard to tear myself away. It's the one-year anniversary of the Boston Marathon bombings. One year ago today, a little before 3 PM, I saw some odd notes online from friends and started searching the news. The tweets came in fastest. Not 5 minutes after the bombings occurred, the story started: some kinds of explosions had occurred by the finish line at the Boston Marathon. A couple of people texted me about it, but there wasn't much information yet. Maybe 15 minutes later, a co-worker started walking around telling everyone there had been bombs in Boston! I was angry. No one knew yet if they were bombs or not. There was a very brief period of time when people thought it might have been gas line explosions, but now I think back on that a laugh a little. That's the kind of explanation that authorities use to cover up some other kind of explosion, at least in the movies. I think my anger was apparent when I told him, "We don't know yet." I'm sad that I was wrong, but glad that I said something. It would have been stupid to freak everyone in the office out. I'm not sure anyone got much work done for the last few hours of the day anyway.
On Wednesday of that week last year, I left work early. I realized that I had not spoken to anyone much about the bombings and was feeling a lot of strong emotions. My fiancé, now husband, and I went out for lunch in Harvard Square. He had avoided going to class the day before, not wanting to be on the crowded subway just yet, and I was more than okay with that. To go on the train with him was okay, at least we were together if something happened. I saw the armed forces that were in all of the subway stations, searching bags and occasionally patting people down. Seeing guns in my subway was more than a little unsettling. It's something that other parts of the world deal with everyday, something that may seem commonplace to them. To me, it felt like someone had ripped away my security blanket and torched it. I didn't want them to have to be there. I limited how much I was reading of the news that week. There was only so much tragedy I could expose myself to.
Thursday night, we met up with friends at the Cheesecake Factory in Boston for a birthday celebration. I don't think we talked about the Marathon much, but it was certainly on all of our minds. We saw police cars racing out of Boston, sirens and lights blaring, late into our dinner. Later that night, some of them discovered that the manhunt had begun. I found out in the morning, when my supervisor called to tell me that the office was closed. Waltham was within the large circle of the shutdown. I worked from home, watching my Facebook news feed for responses. Some of my friends were only blocks from where the chase had occurred. No cars were allowed out on main streets in my town, thought it only neighbored the shutdown towns. In the afternoon, I followed the posts of a friend listening to a police blotter as they narrowed in on the one surviving suspect, getting a nearly instant play-by-play of the capture. I don't think I felt relieved until some weeks after the arrest.
This morning, I flipped to a radio station that was interviewing people and focusing on memorials. I felt immobilized as I listened to the raw emotion in the voices. As the DJ mentioned their upcoming interview with a bombing survivor from the Marathon, a voice in the background at their station said that the interviewee was on the line now. It was an odd reminder that those are real people, (nearly) live-streaming their thoughts and reflections. It's still amazing to me that something that did not affect me directly has still had such a profound impact on my sense of safety. I feel unsafe in public, but I also feel resigned. There's nothing I can do about terrorists and wannabe-terrorists if they choose to take action around me. I can only try not to waste every day.
Boston Strong. I hope for a safe and joyous event on Monday.
I wrote previously of my thoughts on the bombings here and here.