My Boston Song

The intoxicating nature of Boston is not just in its many pubs and bars. It rests in the mind. I lived in Lowell, Massachusetts for over a year and in the state for close to two years in Brockton and Northampton. There are plenty of jokes about how Boston is the only city of importance in the state but I can attest the other locations served me well, too.

But Boston is important. It is a city of toughness, and strength. It is a city of beauty and grace. It was the place where I found fondness for a sweet, smart young woman and we explored the Huntington Theater and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Those moments I will cherish forever. When it comes to the idea of the city that captured my soul, it is Boston.

I attended the now famous baseball game. I was sitting right in the stands when David “Big Papi” Ortiz delivered his timely and rousing, “This is our f—–ng city!” speech following the Boston Marathon Bombing in 2013. Some laughed, others wept, the place erupted in cheers. His words, blunt and explicit, still carried the spirit of the city that just witnessed a horrendous act of terror.

It was a whirlwind for me. The year prior, I had walked the streets with that sweet young lady. I had even traveled the route of the finish line of the marathon. I saw the gold and blue banners and the pieces of paper swirling around, sent into the sky by the wind. Before meeting up with her, I listened to Lana Del Ray’s “Video Games” on my phone. The haunting chords and the wistful nature of Ray’s voice all signaled to me a sense of sadness that I hoped would never descend on such a majestic city.

Sadly, it did. When I was working in Northampton, MA, I looked on with the other people at the Veterans Affairs Hospital in utter bewilderment. This was one of the first viral terrorist attacks on American soil. People had their phones and their social media sites, namely Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, trained on the events. It reminded me of the fact that none of these tools, save cell phones, were available during the events of September 11, 2001. In Boston, however, the entire world watched in confusion and consternation this wonderful city being wounded at the hands of vicious murderers.

What I recall the most about that day was the excellent police work done by the Boston Police Department, Massachusetts State Police, Watertown Police and the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Their concerted efforts combined to display professionalism, exactitude, and force against those who initiated it.

Three people, Martin Richard, 8; Lingzu Lu, 23; and Krystle Campbell, 29 didn’t have to die that day. To avenge their deaths, thousands of law enforcement authorities descended upon the perpetrators. This all played out on Facebook Walls and Twitter Timelines. Instagram users captured the carnage, the manhunt, and the city still reeling able to show its grit.

There were even bits of levity in the tragedy. When the terrorist Dzhokhar Tsarnaev and his brother Tamerlan Tsarnaev attempted to escape, the former went into hiding and the latter was killed by police. But the circumstances proved to be almost laughable in the way that Dzhokar found himself. The Lonely Island song “I’m on a Boat” spread through the digital scene and became a hashtag for people to follow when the police finally took in the evil figure from a small sea vessel. It was like witnessing a valve let off much needed steam from a day of horror.

The surreal nature of those events on Patriot's Day (not to be confused with Patriot Day on 9/11/01) still make me consider how there will always be vicious people in this world. Yet the saving grace is the fact that there are actual heroes who don’t need masks, capes, or flying body armor suits to win the day.

All it takes is for men and women tasked with confronting evil and challenging them. The goodness of these people should never be forgotten or besmirched. I still can’t imagine why people run marathons but such participants and people on the sidelines should be guarded from any attempts on their lives.

I love Boston, it holds a special place in my life and will always treasure the times that I experienced. For all of the discord and ugliness of that day in 2013, we can always remember the fact that the city is way stronger than it has ever been.

I plan to go back to Boston to not relive the past but to discover the nuances and seek new encounters with Bostonians who can bear burdens and still have a good time as the weeks, months, and years continue. It is a privilege that I was able to get to know the Bay Staters. From my home in Delaware, I can truly appreciate the fact that I could soak up the history and the “boots on the ground” feeling of walking where so much history has transpired.

If I could return right now, I would gladly visit Beantown. For everything from its Avenue of the Arts to its esteemed sports teams, I would be delighted to cheer and promote the city that once enchanted me.

In the memory and understanding, respectively, of the fallen and injured, may their families know that the authorities exist to address situations like what happened that day. Let them know that there exist a select few individuals in this world who answer their own call. They get up and don uniforms in order to show their bravery and honor. From the emergency medical technicians, fire, police, and other individuals who get up for their shifts to selfishly help others, they ought to be commended. It’s not their sacrifice or selflessness but their egoism that drives them to aid others in times of despair and grimness. They trade the fact they could be harmed or killed and take into account the preciousness of life. That’s Boston Strong.