reflections on the boston tragedy
Once again, flags are flying at half-mast.
This time, we’re remembering the three who died and the dozens upon dozens injured in the Boston Marathon bombing on, ironically, the joyful celebration of Patriots’ Day this past Monday.
The ‘round-the-clock media has covered the story from the very beginning, leaving very little to the imagination, replaying footage of the blasts many times over, conducting a myriad interviews, adding analysis, and keeping the country informed of every development, however miniscule.
These days, the hyper-competitive news agencies seem to rush to judgment, sometimes skirting the facts, often overdramatizing, occasionally fueling drama contagion.
This time, though, has been markedly different. Coverage, though thorough, seems quite restrained, almost reverent, in honor, perhaps, of the victims and those charged with investigating the crime and bringing the assailants to justice.
The day was perfect for running.
The temperature topped out at 55, there was occasional cloud cover, and heat never became an issue for the almost 40,000 who toed the line in Hopkinton.
Then, just over four hours into the event, two explosions in rapid succession rocked the area near the finish line and shattered the euphoria of the moment and the lives of countless runners, spectators, and support personnel.
As always, first responders and medical personnel acted quickly and valiantly. Bystanders assisted total strangers.
Runners who could continue did so once they regained their bearings.
Even Bill Effrig, the grizzled 78-year-old captured by television cameras being knocked to the pavement by the first blast, rose, crossed the finish line, and vowed to compete again.
Before the race, law enforcement officials did all within their power to ensure safety, but, truth be told, there is virtually no way to stop a terrorist who chooses to attack innocent people at so open an event.
Abhorrent? Tragic? An inexplicable crime against mankind?
Certainly.
A cowardly act of violence by an unknown assassin (or assassins)?
Without a doubt.
The end of our innocence?
Hey, our national innocence was gone long ago.
A chance to pull together and rebuild.
Absolutely.
Boston will. America will.
Will DeCamps, Collegiate class of 2005, finished in 3:05, made his way through the long chute, collected his gear, and headed for a Panera Bread about a half-mile away.
He wasn’t aware of the blast until friends started calling and texting.
“People (in the restaurant) were just getting wind of what had happened,” DeCamps said Tuesday after arriving home to New York.
“Then, we saw police cars and ambulances. My first thought was that maybe a gas main broke. Wishful thinking.
“I couldn’t believe this was happening in, of all places, a marathon which I really revere.”
Twenty-four hours later, DeCamps was trying mightily to get his head around the experience.
“I see the day as two different days: a celebratory day and a sad, tragic day,” he continued.
“I went to the (marathon) website to check my splits but had second thoughts. It seemed like the wrong thing to do.
“How could somebody do this? Running is a wholesome activity I grew up doing. It’s a healthy thing. Nobody has a chip on their shoulder.
“To be out there, totally helpless, doesn’t make sense.
“Right now, my thoughts are all over the spectrum.”
Once DeCamps returned home, a friend commented, “Well, I guess you can kiss Boston good-bye.”
He replied, “Of course not. Now it has even more meaning. I won’t be deterred.”
Rett Turner ’00 ran the entire way his wife Ginny and finished in 3:31.
They returned to their room at the Hotel Revere a short distance from the finish and were talking to a friend when they heard the blasts through the friend’s cell phone.
“It was surreal,” Turner said Tuesday night from his home in Charlotte, NC. “It’s still hard to interpret. We’re feeling a real range of emotions.
“(Running Boston) is the truest American experience Ginny and I have ever witnessed. The whole course, literally every step of the way, people are cheering you. The crowd motivates you. It was definitely emotional. It was something special
“Then, the American dream turned into an American nightmare.”
