A Despicable Act an Unspeakable Tragedy

Perhaps I am still in sense of shock as the details and the reality of the bombings at the finish line of the Boston Marathon on Monday sink into my mind.

One is almost immune when one hears about civilian targeted  bombs exploding in those places of unrest like the Middle East or Africa.

Today, I can only wonder how something like this can happen here in my neighborhood.

These are the very streets that my family walks on a daily basis.

This Marathon is the event that I have run and finished with my family watching me cross the finish line.

We frequent those stores on Boylston St. that were damaged in the blast.

That this tragedy could happen in my neighborhood is all the more unsettling.

That my 10-year old son was literally on the corner of Newbury and Fairfield Streets and walking toward Boylston Street less than 90 seconds away when the second bomb exploded is all the more surreal. As my son said that night, “I felt the ground shake, saw the smoke and a horde of people running towards me” and then he gave me a big hug.

My family was lucky – no one was injured.

There are other families from our community that were in the race or observing the race that were not hurt physically but may be scarred emotionally.

And there are those innocent people who have been killed or permanently maimed and words cannot express our sympathy.

As part of the human race, we can only pray that this will never happen again.

But the sad reality is that world has grown up and until last Monday I had not.

(Stephen Quigley lives with his family in the Back Bay section of Boston.)

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