No travel-writing today. Today I honor and celebrate Greater Boston, its heroes, its heart, its strength.
Living in the Boston area, I know a lot of people who have run the Boston Marathon, who go to watch the runners come in, who celebrate the day—which is also Patriots Day here—in Boston. I’ve been among them.
Fortunately everyone I know personally came home safely on Monday, after a despicable act of cowardice struck a peaceful, internationally celebrated event.
Not so for Martin Richard, an 8-year old child killed in Monday’s cowardly act of violence. Not so for his mother and sister, seriously injured in the blast.
Not so for BU graduate student Lu Lingzi, originally from Shenyang China.
Not so for 29-year old Krystle Marie Campbell originally of Medford, who worked in my home town of Arlington for the last few years.
Not so for nearly 200 people now dealing with serious injuries in Boston hospitals.
These are the things we’ll remember about Marathon Monday of 2013. Not, as we would wish, the names Lelisa Desisa Benti of Ethiopia and Rita Jeptoo of Kenya who crossed the finish line first to win the men’s and women’s races, respectively
But there are other things we will remember after that gutless and craven act, and chief among them is this: We will not be cowed.
One of the first groups of runners to cross the finish line was made up of military personnel. They ran the course in full fatigues, boots and backpacks. Later, those same people pulled barricades down to assist the injured.
I saw video of spectators running into danger to help those who had fallen. They never hesitated. The medical tent at the end of the race became a triage unit; victims were rapidly dispatched to some of the finest hospitals in the world.
Within a few hours of that spineless act, there was a list of 6,000 people offering to help those stranded in Boston;. The publicly available list had notes like, “will pick you up”, ‘have 3 beds ready…”
Within hours, the blood donor web site had so many hits it was slow. By Tuesday, the Red Cross was asking people to delay their donations because they were all set for now but will need help again.
By Tuesday morning, I’d received inquiries and encouragement from people I know on the other side of the country and the other side of the world. Support for Boston come from all over, in every form. Archrival Yankees played the Red Sox seventh inning anthem, ‘Sweet Caroline’ in Yankee stadium, and their fans sang along. Other cities paid similar tribute.
Within twenty-four hours The One Fund Boston was formed with seed money from John Hancock, matching donations from the Kraft family and numerous sports organizations and businesses.
I saw the best of Boston, and all of us, at the worst of times. I saw courage, kindness, heroism, outrage and anger, faith and hope, and I saw courage overcome fear, all at once.
We are stronger than ever. We are all Boston.
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To donate to the One Fund,
visit http://www.onefundboston.org/
or send a check to: One Fund Boston, Inc.
800 Boylston Street #990009
Boston, MA 02199