I didn’t plan on being in Boston the day after the bombings.
A friend of mine had a job interview in Cambridge, Mass, on Tuesday and I offered to drive. We have another friend who lives on the way in Springfield, Mass. so it seemed like the perfect opportunity for a road trip. We left on Monday with this two day adventure ahead of us.
A few hours after leaving Oswego, however, we heard the news of what happened. We decided to keep going, with the hopes that his interview wouldn’t be canceled. We went to sleep Monday night in Springfield not even knowing if we would be making the trip the next morning.
After waking up early and deciding that the trip was indeed safe enough to be made, we embarked for the Massachusetts capitol. We finally made it there by noon or so and could almost immediately sense a difference in the atmosphere.
Cops were stationed at almost every stoplight and stop sign, helicopters were roaming the sky and we even saw police boats in the Charles River. It was obvious that it was not a normal day in Boston.
It was eerie, it was somber, it was different—and for good reason.
I remember 9/11 like it was yesterday. I could tell you everything that I did at school that day: what the teachers said, what the other kids said and what I played during recess. But I was still an hour and a half away from ground zero.
Being in Boston the day after the marathon bombings was numbing, just like I’m sure it was in Aurora, Colo. on July 21, 2012, Newtown, Conn. on Dec. 15, 2012 and New York City on Sept. 12, 2001.
But as I sat on a bench and looked at the city skyline from across the Charles, I noticed something. The buildings were still standing, cars were still driving through the city and the T was passing by every few minutes right on schedule. The city was still there and people were trying to move on with their lives.
I’m not saying that we shouldn’t pray for Boston or keep our eyes focused on Twitter to find out what is going on, but I think that it is important to remember that we must move on, mostly because we don’t have a choice. These things (unfortunately) happen.
Boston may not have been a happy city on Tuesday, or even a content city for that matter, but it is still there, regardless of what happened. Outside of Copley Square, Boston is still the same city that it was when marathon runners got underway Monday morning.
So keep Boston in your prayers and maybe even root for the Red Sox for the next few weeks (as much as it pains me to say it). But remember, we should also try to move on. We will remember those who were lost, we will pray for those who were injured and we will catch those who were responsible. But when it is all said and done, whether you are in Oswego or Boston, Monday will still be Monday.