My husband had his annual conference in Boston this April. He and I, along with our son, arrived in Boston on the day of the marathon at around 1:30 pm. After checking into our hotel, we walked down the street to the mass of people all there to enjoy the festivities of the Boston Marathon. We had been up since 3:30 AM to catch our flight so not only were we tired of crowds, we were starving! Ken suggested we find a bite to eat and then make a plan. After strolling a few blocks from the final stretch of the race, we found a hole in the wall pizza place. Ken suggested that we head over to Harvard and tour the campus, we felt pretty confident that simply touring Harvard would increase our IQ scores substantially! Anyway, after eating, we found our way to the train and headed off to one of the most prestigious campuses in the country.
We arrived at Harvard and walked around the beautiful campus and decided to visit the museum housed on the campus. Within minutes of arriving at the museum, Ken walked over to me and showed me his phone. He had received an alert from ESPN announcing an explosion at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. I told him he had better call our daughter Rylee. She had not been able to join us on our trip due to college class commitments. We withheld the news from our son who is 12. At the time, we figured there was no need to alarm him when we had no information anyway. My phone buzzed with a text from Rylee who was in class and had already heard the national news alert. I assured her we were ok and far from the explosion and we would keep in touch. I tried to call my dad but all cell service had already been cut. I did send a text to my mom. She isn't a big "texter" so I wasn't concerned that I didn't receive a reply. I would find out later that she read the text but didn't think much of it...until she realized how close we actually were only a few short hours ago.
As Carter and I continued to enjoy the displays at the museum, Ken very covertly kept his phone working on updates, trying to assess where the explosion was in relation to our hotel. It was within 3 blocks of where we would be staying and everything in the vicinity was being evacuated and locked down. He was beginning to be more concerned about our ability to get back to our hotel and if we could get in once we arrived. We left the museum just before closing and made our way back to the train stop that we needed to start our short journey back to the hotel. By this time, Ken knew stations had been shut down and wondered about the safety of any of the remaining open lines. Police were in the station and as soon as Ken walked to them, Carter knew something was up. I told him the little that we knew and joined Ken to listen to the advice of the Boston PD. They assured us they had been through the entire system with bomb sniffing dogs (comforting thought) and that we were allowed to go to a stop that would get us closer but then would have to walk or try to get a taxi to get back to the hotel. As we boarded the train, we felt a little strange. Surreal, maybe, is a better word?? We came up out of the station and it was absolutely packed with people. We had arrived just near the hospital that many of the victims were being rushed to. To this day, I cannot believe I didn't think to get a picture of the many people, the ambulances, the traffic, the news vans, everything. I can only think that I was in a little bit of shock and just realizing how we were in the middle of a national tragedy.
The fact that we found a taxi is a miracle. I stepped into an alley and saw one directly in front of me, I flagged him down and he picked us up. He had been on duty for less than an hour and was planning on going home. He experienced 9/11 as a driver, and wasn't prepared to go through another disaster. What should have been a 5 minute drive became 40+ minutes as everywhere he turned, police turned us back. He finally got us to where we could see the hotel name on the top of the building and asked if we thought we could make it. We agreed we weren't going to get any closer and we would attempt to go as far as we could, hoping we wouldn't be turned away. We did make it back, to a jam packed, completely crazy, heavily guarded hotel. There were runners everywhere, people who couldn't get back into their hotels, runners who never got to finish, runners with nothing on but their running shorts on a day that was chilly, and no where to go. We went to our room and turned on the local news. The realization of how close we were was beginning to hit us. By this time, we knew the supper situation was going to be a nightmare. There was a restaurant right by the hotel but when Ken called to ask if we could order out, he was told that the health inspector had shut everyone down for the safety of everyone involved. We ordered room service, they warned us it would be awhile, we told them we totally understood. 2 hours and 45 minutes later, at 10:45, we devoured the most expensive quesadillas, sliders, and fries that we'd ever eaten, with pleasure.
The rest of the week was spent saying thank you to the SWAT, police, military, and other guard type guys around the city. We toured, we ate, we enjoyed. The servers at the restaurants were outstanding, apologizing that we were visiting their city on such a sad week but treating people with compassion, kindness, and humor. What a blessing it was each and every day.
Friday was not too fun. Carter and I were in the hotel room all day. The city was in lock down. The terrorists had been identified but one was still not apprehended. We did go out around 1:00 to see if we could grab some lunch but with no taxi service and no train service, employees were not at work, and no one was opening for the day. It was a little creepy anyway and Carter decided the hotel room was the place for us. That evening we were able to leave and go back to the most amazing Italian restaurant. It would be our second meal there, we just couldn't resist the same place twice! During the meal, the second bomber was caught and arrested and the whole atmosphere suddenly was electric! People were in the streets, celebrating, greeting one another, feeling that once again, we were free to move about and get back to normal.
The next day we went to the Red Sox game. That experience is a whole other blog altogether! Wow, I have never been witness to such an emotionally beautiful display of American Pride. Kudos to you Boston, you know how to throw a last minute celebration!
Another day, another blog, I'll be sure to share more from this memorable trip. To be in the midst of history is hard to put words to, I'll never forget the experience and will forever be thankful for the many men and women who protected us in the days following this horrible tragedy.
Boylston Street, about 2 hours before the explosion, runners were turning on to this street on Carter and Ken's left side.
Our last day, the street is still blocked off and filled with memorials.
Our daily protectors at the front door!
Boylston Street, about 2 hours before the explosion, runners were turning on to this street on Carter and Ken's left side.Our last day, the street is still blocked off and filled with memorials.Our daily protectors at the front door!