April 15th, 2014 marked the one year anniversary of the terrorist attack at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. The terrifying double blast killed three people on scene: 8-year-old Martin William Richard, a knock-knock joke-telling, friend-defending third grader; the incredibly giving and hard working 29-year-old Krystle Campbell; and 23-year-old Lingzi Lu, a bubbly foreign exchange student attending Boston University. MIT security officer and soon-to-be policeman, 26-year-old Sean Collier, was killed by the bombers Dzhokhar and Tamerlan Tsarnaev three days later, shot five times in his police cruiser in what is considered to be an assassination. Over 260 other people were seriously injured in the blasts.
If you’re from Boston or areas surrounding it, like I am, you know the story by heart. The bombs went off. A manhunt ensued. In the span of five days, Boston gave its heart to the police, and they delivered. Tamerlan was killed Friday, April 19th in a gunfight, shot first by our police and then fatally wounded by his brother Dzhokhar when he ran him over with a car as he attempted to flee the scene. Dzhokhar was later found hiding in a Watertown resident’s backyard, in a covered boat, bleeding out. He was arrested and treated for his wounds, and the rest is history.
Rage does not even begin to describe the feeling of knowing your city has been attacked and not knowing what to do about it. Sadness does not even begin to describe the all-encompassing blue that engulfs you when you know that not one of the victims killed will ever see their 30th birthday.
Strength does not even begin to describe Boston’s total and complete ascension from bloodied streets to blue and yellow ribbons, banners, and a 102 hour-long successful manhunt.
This is not just another report about the terrorist attack.
This is an account of historic courage, tenacity, and total stability in the face of what should have been fear, terror, and structural disintegration.
Boston is not just another city.
Boston is Strong.
Because as the Tsarnaevs tried to trail their terror around the city and the surrounding suburbs, Boston stepped up. #BostonStrong trended everywhere almost immediately, and slogans like, “You Messed With The Wrong City”, and “Got ‘em” flashed across billboards in blue and yellow. “Cowards” could be found painted across sides of buildings, and my personal favorite, “How do you like our dirty water?” popped up all over the internet upon discovering Dzhokhar Tsarnaev in the backyard boat. Upon capturing the bombers and their accomplices, celebration was wild and heart-filling, in typical Boston fashion.
Most astounding to the world was the way Boston bounced back. The One Fund was created as one of the many victim relief funds and music artists and comedians from around the country collaborated at multiple Boston Strong benefit concerts. War veterans who have lost limbs came and hung out with bombing victims to give them even more reassurance that it was going to be okay. Every single resident in Boston was and is behind their healing, and many victims are planning to come back and run the Marathon this coming Monday or next year with a limb or two short as a big “F You” to those who think they could ever bring Boston down.
In the ugly face of tragedy, Boston showed its hidden, nurturing side – it cradled the families who lost loved ones, and sent love, and condolences where they were endlessly needed. In the horrifying face of terror and hate violence, Boston flashed its not-so-hidden side; the side with its middle finger flying.
In celebration of the poise that Boston had in the wake of this tragedy, now known as the deadliest terrorist attack on American soil since 9/11, ceremonies were held at the Boston Marathon Memorial. Historic pictures of victims and runners alike were snapped, and the commemoration received public accolade with VP Joe Biden’s powerful line, “We are America, we own the finish line.” Almost rightfully rainy, the anniversary was a grey day of remembrance and loss, of healing, of making sense of something that will never make sense; shoes were laid, prayers were said, speeches of love and hope were declared, and everyone remained uncharacteristically somber. At 2:48 pm, a moment of silence was held to mark the moment the bombs detonated. Richard Donohue, who was injured in the shootout that resulted in Tamerlan’s death, hoisted the flag following that prime moment of respect, and a candlelight vigil was held at 7 pm later that day.
I like to think the rain on April 15th, 2014 helped wash away some of the despair and gut-wrenching memories that happened on Boylston St. this time last year. I know America as a whole felt the jolt of fear when the bombs detonated, but being a Massachusetts resident made it different. Even writing this made me choke up – I can’t quite describe the feeling that the event invokes, but in essence, it makes me feel small and makes my heart feel really, really big. The support that the rest of the nation and that Massachusetts itself has given to Boston has opened my eyes to the resilience of the human spirit.
I send my condolences to the families that lost a loved one in the tragedy. I send good thoughts towards victims still getting used to walking without a limb or two. I am profoundly amazed by the doctors and nurses who had to stitch Dzhokhar Tsarnaev back to health and spend endless energy on making sure he would be able to confess later on. I can’t believe it has been a year, but I am eternally grateful to the Boston and Watertown Police Departments who worked without sleep to find the bombers, and I will never forget the people of Boston and their ability to stand tall in the face of a tragic monster.
This is not just another report about the terrorist attack. This is about Boston. Whether it be at Miami University, across the country, or around the world…it doesn’t matter.
We will always stand as one; Boston Strong.