I Love that Dirty Water

I am in shock. Like many of you, I’m watching re-runs of explosions on the news, glued to the TV for any updates. The city where I worked, studied, and spent long Sundays meandering Copley, the Commons and Newbury Street, enjoying beautiful fall weather or balmy summer days, is in crisis. The street where I stalked tables for half-priced PourHouse burgers on Saturday nights and worked as a waitress in the Prudential is now covered in debris, windows blasted out of those beautiful buildings. Worse, three people are confirmed dead (one of them an eight year old boy) and over 150 people injured. That’s when I started to cry; before hearing that, I couldn’t wrap my head around this, but a child? That made it real when watching from 1,000 miles away. Like so many of us as kids, that little boy probably went to the marathon with his parents to cheer on runners. Today is a holiday in the Commonwealth – and that’s just what you do in Boston on Marathon day.

When something like this happens, we look for greater meaning behind the tragedy. The bottom line is there’s no justification, no logic, and I’ll be damned if I can find meaning in the death of a child. The only thing I can rationalize right now is this: those flags that lined Boylston Street stand for something – yes, this was an attack on Boston, and yes, it was an attack on our nation; it was also an attack on every nation that had a runner in this race. Supporters from all over turned out and tuned in to watch their athletes compete in one of the most historic marathons in the world, never knowing that such senseless violence would unfold.

We’re angry now…and shocked… and heartbroken, but make no mistake – the world is about to see what Bostonians are made of – a stubborn determination and unyielding sense of community that one would expect from the City of Champions. Boston’s wicked resilient, folks, and no one knows a comeback like we do. Until then, light a candle, say a prayer, and keep those affected – victims, EMTs, fire-fighters, doctors, nurses, law enforcement officials and their families in your thoughts. Now more than ever, I love that dirty water, and no matter where I am, Boston, you’ll always be my home.