Posted by: Jeremiah Graves | April 15, 2013

Yet Another Day That Will Live in Infamy

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I’m not a Bostonian by birth and, by all accounts, I’ll probably never be a “true Bostonian.”

I still bag on this place for the accents, their woe-is-me take on winter weather, their awful driving, and the overall unwelcoming nature of the city.

That having been said, in the last 6 1/2 years that we have lived here, Boston has become home to Grace and I.

It’s the place where we had to be hella-ballsy and just pack up and leave the Midwest to move to when we’d been out of college for just a few months. It’s is the place where Grace got her master’s degree. It’s the place we’ve made a slew of great friends. It’s the place we first lived alone together. It’s the place where I first tried seafood. It’s the place we realized we wanted to get married. It’s the place we started our family when we adopted Honey. It’s the place that we think of now when we think of our home.

For all of those reasons and a thousand more, I love Boston and that’s why today’s bombings at the Boston Marathon have thrown me for a loop.

I was walking to the barber shop this afternoon and heard the explosions. I didn’t know what they were; I assumed it was just some noise from nearby construction sites. They certainly seemed odd and out of place, but I didn’t think much of it and continued walking.

When I was at the barber shop some dude asked me about the explosions at the marathon and, having no idea what he was talking about, I pulled out my phone and so did everyone else. The entire place went silent as everyone tried to figure out what was happening.

It felt like 9/11 all over again. I was in Chemistry class, senior year of high school when word came over the loud speakers what had happened and everyone just froze. That same feeling permeated the barber shop.

I tried to call Grace a bunch of times, she’d gone out for coffee and, although I didn’t suspect she’d gone across the river, I just had to know where she was, but I couldn’t get anything beyond the “all circuits are busy” message.

I did my best to stay calm. I continued on with my plan and went to get a burger, only to find everyone in the restaurant, including the kitchen staff, up front in the seating area watching CNN in stunned silence.

boston marathon bombings

Somewhere in the odd state of shock, I ordered and devoured a burger (natural instincts and all that jazz), all the while attempting to call Grace multiple times and fielding inquiries about my whereabouts on Facebook.

I finally got a hold of Grace and we met up back at home where the two of us just sat solemnly sipping beers and watched the horrors of the day continue to unfold hour by hour. There was a period where we couldn’t distinguish whether the sirens we heard were on the TV or outside our apartment.

As they hours rolled on they reported more deaths and more injuries and more gruesome photos and first-hand accounts.

On the flipside, they also reported amazing stories of first-responders and everyday Joe Schmoes stepping into the fray to help out. They showed people offering up their homes, their food, their water, their wifi, their blankets, their whiskey, and anything else they could offer to those displaced or in need. It left us with a glimmer of hope on an otherwise incredibly dark day.

As I’m getting ready to turn off the TV, shutdown the computer, and step away from it all for the night, I know one thing: today sucked, but tomorrow doesn’t have to.

The compassion shown by everyone on-site today proves that fact.

Finally, if y’all could say a prayer to God (or your personal deity of choice) tonight for the folks in Boston, I’d be mighty obliged.

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  2. […] I’m just more tuned into it since the Boston Marathon bombings hit so close to home; but it seems to me that from the Mother’s Day parade shooting in New Orleans to the fertilizer […]

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