Now, this particular tragedy is close to me, since I lived in Boston for a number of years, and used to work about three blocks from where the first explosion occurred. I still have a number of friends who live and work in the city - some of whom attended the marathon yesterday. While I can't begin to fathom the kind of monster who finds blowing off limbs for no apparent reason either acceptable or even palatable, the violence of it is only part of what gets me. The only thing I can even compare the other part of what I'm feeling to is what people probably felt during the 1996 Centennial Park bombing at the Atlanta Olympics. The feeling that something near sacred to you, with the existence of a single event holding such intrinsic value and heritage that it hurts to imagine it being something other than what it is.
What "Marathon Monday" or Patriots day was, at least to the multiple thousands of college students and residents in the Boston area, was a celebration of life, an outpouring of joy, international cooperation, and the good in humanity. I suppose you could say much the same of any major sporting event, but think about this for a second - Boston dedicated a whole day to it. Every year. After living there, I can tell you - the city literally grinds to a halt. I'm pretty sure that the only places doing a high volume of business were liquor stores, Dunkin' Donuts, and 7-11. There were college students lining the streets from near dawn to the end of the race, cheering, holding signs, and more often holding booze. Kids on their dad's or mom's shoulders downtown thinking that one day they'd be as fast as the marathoners. And after the last person crossed the finish line, the city erupted into a party. A celebration of the fact that, no matter how long it took, everyone crossed the finish line - after 26.2 miles, quite the accomplishment! I don't think I ever saw anyone angry on Marathon Monday. And, despite the public drinking (which, strictly speaking, was blatantly illegal), I never personally saw any arrests or skirmishes.
To me, now being geographically far from Boston, the mere fact that this happened at all was a desecration of a sacred memory. For everyone that has left Boston, one angry and militant action, much like one drop of blood in a bucket of water, has poisoned the tradition, the pride, the celebration. I'm even more offended that people got seriously injured. A graduate student died. An eight-year-old died. And a woman who left her job to take care of her sick grandmother died. Those that know me, really know me, know that I don't really do tears or feelings, so they'll get how much this means when I say the pictures and the news reports legitimately make me tear up. It also sickens me that a member of the human race is capable of carrying out such carnage.
To the people who have started speculating that it's a conspiracy, whatever, freedom of speech. My only question is this: how would YOU feel if someone you loved just got maimed by some psychotic, terrifying event and all a bunch of people could talk about was that it was a "fake flag" operation? Personally, I'd feel like I'd been violated. Frankly, I do feel that way. You have every right to think and say those things, but for the love of humanity and for the sake of not furthering the paranoia, fear, and hurt that the bombs themselves caused, please don't put them where grieving people will look. Better yet, and I know this is asking a lot (but it is just a request), keep it to yourself and give people time to process things. Who knows, maybe some of them will end up agreeing with you, but at this point in time it is (a) inappropriate, and (b) puts you (in my mind) on par with sexual predators. That might be taking it kind of far, but that's how I feel about it. I feel violated that you took something so tragic, so horrifying, and pounced on the opportunity to make your message heard BEFORE the people physically and emotionally affected by it even had time to process what had happened. Having experienced the death of a loved one, I can tell you that the most disrespectful and inhumane thing to do is to use SOMEONE ELSE'S tragedy to further your own ends. So, really, just shut your face. Or Twitter, or whatever.
That all being said, Bostonians are some of the most resilient people I've ever met, and are incredibly giving and kind, as the news reports have proven. You all are in my thoughts and in my heart. I may no longer live there, but when I left, I left a little piece of my heart in Boston. And to my friends there, I'm so glad I know you're all safe. Now, just keep each other safe.
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