I’m at the Boston marathon and two explosions went off at the finish line two miles away from me. Apparently people were seriously injured and lost limbs.
This is surreal. Army officers are running around panicing telling people to stop running yelling to eachother to find certain people. People are crying.
People died. They are evacuating all Boston buildings. There are emergency vehicles all around me and helicopters and the army people are trying to leave the area as quickly as possible. I’m getting picked up. I almost wanted watch from the finish line today I am two miles away I’m fine. I’m going home. This is surreal.
So nearly every year of year of my life I have gone to the Boston Marathon. I grew up in Boston, I have very fond memories of sitting on the steps of the Synagogue In Brookline and watching the runners go by. Handing the runners water as the run by, and chanting two more miles, as they struggle to finish. I remember running the last two miles with my mom, watching her ex boyfriend from the finish line, years of memories making up my childhood. So last year I decided to go with my best friend, we sat in my kitchen and debated on whether or not to watch from the finish line. We decided not to, instead go to our normal spot, due the fact we did not want to get up early. That decision most likely changed the course of my life.
So we got the marathon, we rode the train in and watched the other people get off at the train stop of the finish line. Our stop was a few minutes down the line we got there and watched for a few hours, cheering the runners on like normal. We stepped into a frozen yogurt place, sitting eating and watching the runners. Then my mom called me, she told me that there had been an explosion. We both figured it had been an accident, their are a lot of oxygen tanks at the finish line due to the medical tents. I figured one had burst. Then I looked up the pictures and my heart dropped, I got really nervous and went outside. As I was walking down the street, everyone was on the phone finding out the same exact thing as me. I got to where I was watching the marathon, the steps of the Synagogue, and I noticed the panic stricken national guard. They were there every year, and now I realize why. That was the moment I realized something really serious had happened. Then a series of armored vehicles started to go down the road that the runners were on. I saw more information on my phone, two explosions, people had died, and lost limbs. That is when I knew that it was not a mistake instead something really serious was going on. My friend and I were waiting for my mom to get us, the trains had shut down, and even if they had not we had already made the choice to not chance it.
Then the national guard stopped the runners, telling them with no explanation that there was no more finish line. So thousands of runners, from all over the country and world, were stuck in the middle of Brookline. Confused and unaware of the events that had taken place just two miles away. My friend and I walked down the road, a road where a lot of Boston Hospitals are located. I won’t forget the sound of the sirens,the countless ambulances going by, and the numerous helicopters in the sky.
When I got home I saw the explosion on the news and my thoughts were confirmed that it was on purpose. Then the week unfolded, Boston got locked down, the bombers got caught, the toll of the injured and fallen was announced. Then my memory went back to those people I had stood next to on the train, who had gotten off at the finish line, what had happened to them? Then I saw a mother and daughter who had lost their legs, and I remembered them,I remembered standing next to them on the train.
I thank my luck stars I decided against going to the finish line, because I could and most likely would have lost my legs. I will never forget that day, because that day my beloved city was under attack, but more importantly we were strong and overcame the tragedy together.