Boston

I remember exactly where I was during the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. I was in fifth grade on my way to school. The bus was turning a corner and I was staring out at the golf course when my friend, who was sitting beside me, informed me that her parents told her a plane had crashed into a building. I didn't understand the significance until I got to school. My teacher was watching the news coverage on our classroom TV, which showed videos of planes flying into buildings and the buildings crashing down. Images of bloody people. The news that some people had jumped from their windows to escape the destruction only to die on the pavement. Other planes were aimed for other locations. Pretty soon the television was turned off due to our young, impressionable minds. I don't remember much more of that day, but I remember the feelings of devastation and disbelief. The absolute horror. And the one overarching question: why?

Today, I was reminded of those feelings. After all, this is the most violent attack against my country since 9/11. Bombings in Boston. At this point, everything is still up in the air. How many explosions were there? Were they all connected? How many bombs didn't explode? Are we in danger? Two deaths, one an eight-year-old boy. The injury count gets higher and higher with every update. Who is responsible? Will they come forward? Is this a terrorist attack? Will we ever know?

And again, why?

I was ten years old when I first began to struggle with this question. It was incomprehensible to me that anyone, no matter what they were fighting for, would deliberately try to kill innocent people. What kind of hate drives people to murder people they've never known? Just how deranged does a person have to be to decide to place a bomb where everyday citizens are simply living their lives?

The news says New York is on high alert. ABC news station, which I live next to, is constantly updating its live feed. I went out after work, and the city just didn't feel normal. Cops were out on the streets to keep an eye on the well-known areas of the city. The news was on every television in every restaurant and bar. I caught snippets of conversations from people walking by, discussing the probability of this being a terrorist organization outside the U.S. and whether we were in danger too. Talking about family or friends in Boston. As I sat on a park bench beside Central Park, a police car drove down the sidewalk not one foot from me. A helicopter hovered over downtown Manhattan for over an hour, likely watching for danger.

They can talk politics. They can talk religion. Whatever they want. But nothing changes the fact that today, people died. Today, people were hurt. My nation, my world was invaded. Someday, whoever did this will face the consequences. But today, pray for Boston. Pray for all the people who were hurt or affected by this awful, awful tragedy. Today, stand together.

Boston, we love you.