photo / quote by Willa Cather
My dad and I spent a week in Boston and Salem every summer for a number of years growing up. My dream college was there, my dad’s friends were there, it was like no other city in the country. Smaller and nicer than New York, and simultaneously foreign enough from and similar to Philly to be exciting and the perfect place to stretch my wings after high school. Not everything works out the way you planned, and I had to content myself with coming back to school here after the fall semester, but I never really let go of Boston, even though I haven’t been back since.
The bombing yesterday at the Boston marathon broke my heart. I left work early yesterday and got home a little before 4pm. I turned the tv on and it felt surreal. A senseless act upended what was supposed to be a joyous tradition and a celebration of human endurance, that despite the best efforts of those behind the terror, was still a celebration of human endurance. Watching marathoners and spectators run towards those injured to help, not knowing if there was a third bomb or more danger, proved more about the capacity for bravery and kindness than accomplishing 26.2 miles. I still don’t understand why someone would want to do this to innocent people, but we’ll never understand terrorists. I’m not focusing on them. I’m focusing on the light and overwhelming human spirit exhibiting by those who helped yesterday.
Hang in there, Boston.