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A Place in the Present Where History Meets Fiction

Patriot's Day in Boston

I have not blogged in some time, but I offer this today. I wrote it last night, refined it a bit this morning. THIS, I think is how most Bostonians feel this morning.

I am going to bed. No more to learn tonight. This was a terrible thing on a beautiful day on Boston's biggest annual weekend, when we celebrate the beginning of the American Revolution with the oldest marathon in the world. Somebody - or somebodies - saw a twenty-six mile long target of opportunity. They might be Islamic terrorists. They might be homegrown wackos. We don't know yet. But they took advantage. Do not be shocked by this. Be sad for the people whose lives have been shattered. But be thankful that more were not hurt, more were not killed. Just don't call this a tragedy. A deadly hurricane is a tragedy. "Hamlet" is a tragedy. Tragedies are acts of God or Shakespeare. Terrorist attacks are acts of evil and cowardice and that's what we should call them. And don't talk about a loss of innocence. Innocence is for our children and must be protected for them. But any grown-up should know that this was bound to happen eventually in another American city, as it has in New York and Oklahoma City. So be angry. Then get over it. Then be resolute. And stop telling yourself that things will never be the same again. As soon as Boylston Street re-opens, go into town and plunk yourself down in a restaurant and order a sandwich. Then go into the Boston Public Library and get a book, because the symbolism of the library in this city is enormous, and this bomb went off right across the street from the library entrance. There's a reason why we run the library's biggest fundraiser the eve of Patriot's Day: The Revolution that began on an April morning in the fields and hills west of Boston was a product of an educated society, one that was resolute and courageous because it WAS educated. Those people understood the significance of their actions and the rightness of their cause. So learn from your history. And don't be afraid now. Pray for the suffering. Shake off the shock. Get back to business. Goodnight from Boston. PS. I'll see you all at the Finish Line next April.
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