Editors Note: Been a few days, I certainly appreciate all whom reached out to check in on me and mines, Thank you.
April 16, 2013. The morning after the Boston Marathon tragedy, the commute home the evening before was hectic, everyone buzzing about what just transpired, of course there’s the woefully ignorant spewing whatever half baked “facts” they felt were relevant. However this morning was different, the reality had set in. The train in a still, eerie silence, everyone exchanged looks, no words necessary. This was in fact the hardest thing to do afterwards; move on with our daily lives.
I was 13 when 9/11 happened, old enough to realize what happened. I watched inshocked, I prayed, but I was perhaps still too young to process what truly happened. Virginia Tech in 2006 hit close to home, particularly because had it not been for a turn of events I would’ve been there. Sandy Hook perhaps the most heartbreaking, so heinous, so evil, I still can’t understand it. And now this tragedy left a city, a country so predisposed to violence in complete shock. The long quiet train ride to work pretty much embodied the spirit of us all that day.
April 20, 2013. The morning after the capture of suspect #2 (sidebar: I wish we would stop giving some sort of fame to these people, why do most people know James Holmes but can’t name one Aurora shooting victim). The mood was jubilant. I was on my way to the Red Sox game, I had tickets for the game Friday night and honestly had the game not been postponed I probably wouldn’t have gone anyway. There was a discomfort in being in a ballpark with 37,000 people after the week we’ve had. But Saturday afternoon, I HAD to be there. It was an event I’d never forget, just the overall excitement from my fellow Bostonians. Now we could really begin to move on. The true feeling of resilience, the Sox win itself rallying from behind late a fitting metaphor.
So as I walked up Yawkey Way, once again surrounded by Bostonians, strangers yet bonded. It wasn’t like leaving any other Sox game. The train much more lively (granted alcohol certainly helped) than the ride on Tuesday. So as we continue to recover and grow from this, our thoughts and prayers still on those affected and lost by this tragedy. I can say I’ve never been more proud to be born and raised in this city. I am Boston.