Thursday, April 18, 2013

Processing in progress . . . some thoughts on the Boston Marathon


Boston Marathon bombings

This is not a word I wanted after Boston Marathon  . . .

For those of us who grew up on or near the marathon route Boston Marathon has meant many things and been followed by many words but never this

Boston Marathon jackets . . .

My church was at the starting line and as a youth group one of our best, and most fun, fundraisers was selling soda and snacks to the thousands who gathered to send the runners on their way.  For some reason we really admired the windbreakers all the marathon workers got every year.  They varied in color and style but each year we would spend part of our time plotting how to get one.  Looking back I really can’t say why.  They sort of looked like the kind of jacket an 80 year old man or a perp on SVU would pair with matching pants before stepping out on the town.  I think it was because you couldn’t buy them – they were bestowed.  Sometimes we’d ask workers setting up the barricades or directing traffic if they would give them to us after the race sometimes we’d troll the discarded clothes after the start hoping one got dumped.  I don’t think any of us ever ended up with one.

Boston Marathon runners . . .

These people are just a little crazy.  As a non-marathoner I think anyone who decides to run such a long distance when time and technology have made this unnecessary is crazy.  But Boston marathoners seem to have a special helping of lunacy.  It must be hard to train for this race if you live in New England because up until and sometimes on Marathon Day it’s still like 4 degrees.  Spring doesn’t tend to come to us until mid April.  So in addition to weather hampering training you also never know what you’re going to get on race day.  It could be 80 degrees or it could be zero.  The runners adopt the classic New England mantra – layers!

Boston Marathon Day . . .

Since the world really begins and ends here we tend to just call this Marathon Day.  The Sox play an early game, the Redcoats attack at Lexington and Concord and the kid’s school vacation week begins.  It holds the promise of spring, a sort unofficial start where we all cautiously begin to stow away our winter gear and perhaps, quietly, count on the weather to get warmer and not colder from now on.  It’s a special day. It’s our day.  A day filled with memories of how we spent it as kids, or when our kids were kids or last year when we did this or went there.  It’s a day you remember what happened and not because your world was shattered by hateful insanity but because it’s a day where we all are looking at something together, sharing something, watching something.  As much as is possible in hard-nosed, individualistic, eyes down New England we come together. 

Boston Marathon Coverage . . .

Starting ridiculously early you can tune in to any one of the three main local stations for all things marathon.  They report from the starting line, the finish and all places in between.  They have feel good stories on the runners, up to the minute weather conditions and tales of marathon’s past.  It seems a little strange to have live and continuous coverage at some point because it’s like oh look here’s a really skinny guy running down the street, oh and there’s a pack of three women running together, yup still running and we’ll cut away to commercial and then some talking and let’s get back to it – still running  . . . but somehow it’s fun and if you happen to be home that day you tune in or in your car you check with BZ to see what’s what.  We can all stay plugged in to it all day long.  It’s our race.

And whoever planted these bombs took that from us.  We can say they didn’t.  We can rail and rally urging ourselves and others not to let them take it.  Not to let them change us.  But the truth is we can’t change those horrible moments four hours in to the 2013 Boston Marathon.  The images of smoke, terror, fear, blood, confusion and pain will stay with us.

 But what the terrorists never understand, what these people never count on is what those images, those events do to us.  They make us afraid, they cause us grief and pain, but then they do something else.  They bring out the best in people.  The EMTs, doctors, nurses, police who ran in to help while people fled in terror.  The friends and family who carried one another out of harm’s way.  The stranger’s who helped each other contact loved ones.  Some stories we’ve heard.  More will come out in the days to come.  In the aftermath we see the solidarity of our nation – We are Boston.  The moment of silence before every sporting event to remember the victims, to remember the day.  The crying, hugging and cheering for our National Anthems at baseball fields, hockey rinks and basketball courts across the country.  The post in the Chicago Tribune, the display by the now not so hated Yankees, and on and on . . .

 It’s not trite, or false or contrived.  Tragedy, senseless, inexplicable, undeserved, really does bring us together.  It’s like this act of senseless inhumanity reminded us of the humanity we have in common.  All of our political, religious, geographic , cultural and other differences seem to fade in these moments.  We are Boston, We are America, We are Humanity.

My hope and prayer is that in the days to come we will remember not only to keep supporting the victims, but also to keep honoring the common humanity that such tragedies inevitably awaken in us.  We cannot stop the word bombings from coming to mind when we hear Boston Marathon anymore than we can fail to feel the weight of the numbers 911, but we can decide what we do from here and the terrorists do not get a say in that.

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