Reflections on the Boston Marathon tragedy

The Boston Marathon is a time-honored tradition in Boston, Massachusetts.  Runners and spectators from across the country and around the globe come to Boston on Patriot's Day, or "Marathon Monday", as it has come to be known in Boston.

Cups all over Natick Center  - another Marathon Tradition

Qualifying runners and bandits alike come together to celebrate and test their strength and endurance along the 26.2 mile course from rural Hopkinton to the heart of Copely Square.

This is a tradition 117 years strong.  I have been attending the Marathon for as long as I can remember.  My parents ran the race in 1992, 1993, 1996, 2008 and 2011.  My 8th grade science teacher ran in 1998 for cancer research in support of our assistant principal, Mr. Adreani.   In 2009, I lived on Beacon St, just outside Cleveland Circle at the 22 mile mark.  I am no runner, but the Boston Marathon is a part of me.

My parents have been volunteering in some capacity or another for nearly 15 years.  2 years ago, I joined them.  Every year, on the day before Marathon Monday, we work at the information kiosk in Copely Square.  We talk to the runners and their family and friends, giving them directions or advice.  We explain how to navigate Boston's MBTA system, or the "T"  as it's known around these parts.  Sometimes, we give them suggestions on where to dine that night.  It's a fun tradition.  We get to meet people from all over the world, and be a part of one of Boston's biggest events.  The Boston Marathon jackets that we get as part of our volunteer stint are pretty nice too!

The 2013 Info Booth Crew

Every year, if I can manage it, I try to get as close to the finish line as I can.  I like to be there to cheer on the runners as they make their final turn from Hereford St onto Boylston St and push for the finish line.  I like to shout words of encouragement or take pictures of the funny costumes.

Guys dressed as Solo Cups at the 2011 marathon

On April 15, 2013, I headed into Boston like it was any other Marathon Monday.  I had spoken with my parents earlier in the day and we planned to meet in Copely Square around 2:30pm.  I drove towards Oak Grove Station to park my car, and had a little bit of a wait before I could get a spot.  Little did I know, this was a blessing in disguise.

I parked my car, and took the Orange Line to North Station, where I switched to the Green Line to head towards the finish line.  Throughout my train ride, I wondered to myself if I should get off the train at Arlington or Hynes (Copely Station was closed because of the Marathon).  The green line crawled along.  We finally pulled into Arlington Station, and the MBTA officials were asking everyone to get off the train and out of the station.  At first, I just assumed it was typical MBTA problems.  Maybe it was a switching problem or a medical emergency or something.  I exited the station, and immediately started receiving texts from friends and family asking me if I was okay.  I was confused because I couldn't figure out how they knew about the T problem, let alone that I was on that T.

Soon, news began to unfold about what was going on.  The city was in mass chaos.  People were crying in the streets and running for safety.  I finally got through to my parents who were cheering on their friends about 5 miles down the road, near Boston College.  They were still fuzzy on the details about what was going on, other than the fact that the whole MBTA was now shut down.  They suggested that I head towards  the common and meet them at the State House.  Their plan was to head up Beacon Street, and meet me there.  

I made my way to Boston Common, only stopping once I got out of the crowds.  I updated facebook to alert friends and family that my parents and I were all okay.  I reached the State House steps and received a few more phone calls from aunts and uncles and a close friend from work.  I filled everyone in as much as I could, and waited.

The next time I spoke to my parents, they called to tell me that due to police presence and street closures, they were unable to get out of Kenmore Square.  Their new plan was to back track and head towards Cambridge.  They suggested that I walk down Beacon St, down Charles St, over the Fiedler Footbridge and over to the Esplanade.  We would meet there as soon as we could get there.  

I sat on the steps by the Hatch Shell and waited.  After what seemed like hours, I finally met up with my family, and we walked back to their car, which was parked in the Boston Common garage.  They dropped me off at my car at Oak Grove.  It was a long day, but we all made it home safely.

My heart goes out to the victims and their families.  I can't stop thinking about little Martin from Dorchester, who lost his life at just 8 years old.   I think about Krystle, another marathon spectator who is exactly my age, and was another victim of Monday's horrible tragedy.

I'm grateful that my family and friends and I were all okay.  I've never been more grateful for a slow Green Line train.  If it had been on time, I may have been in Copely Square 10 minutes earlier.  I could have been there during the explosion.  I'm grateful for the friends and family who checked in with me throughout the day.   I guess there's really no way to wrap this up neatly, so I'm going to end here.  Thank you for reading, and please feel free to add your own reflections in the comments section.