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averygoodun42I was in high school when Oklahoma City was bombed. It was shocking. It was stunning. And in my mind at the time, it was obviously the work of a pissed off American, not some Libyan terrorist as some of my friends thought. After all, who else would bomb an IRS building on Tax Day (aka Patriot Day)?
The Boston Marathon, however, isn't an IRS building. The JFK Library isn't the World Trade Center or any other kind of national symbol. Bombing them... Bombing them in such a crude manner... It doesn't make any sense, except to spread poisonous fear throughout the land. Make all of us feel unsafe.
All those I know and care about are safe and sound, though trembling. One of my friends would have been crossing the finish line at about the time the bombs went off (with wife and child cheering him on, of course) had he qualified for this year's race. Thankfully, he didn't. And they decided against going to watch. Thank goodness.
Another friend was running. I've heard through the grapevine that he and his wife are fine. Well... physically sound.
And while I am very sad for the families of those who died, I must say my real grief and horror is for those who survived. The ones whose bodies will never be the same. And I hope to all that's good that their plight of recovery will spark a debate about treatment (and care) of the disabled in this country.
Because that's the only real, long lasting good I can see coming from this. The only possible payoff for the fear-mongering that's going to escalate into something ever more insane over the next few days/weeks/months.
I just... don't understand. Or hope I don't. Because the faint glimmer of understanding I have is far worse than not knowing why.
The Boston Marathon, however, isn't an IRS building. The JFK Library isn't the World Trade Center or any other kind of national symbol. Bombing them... Bombing them in such a crude manner... It doesn't make any sense, except to spread poisonous fear throughout the land. Make all of us feel unsafe.
All those I know and care about are safe and sound, though trembling. One of my friends would have been crossing the finish line at about the time the bombs went off (with wife and child cheering him on, of course) had he qualified for this year's race. Thankfully, he didn't. And they decided against going to watch. Thank goodness.
Another friend was running. I've heard through the grapevine that he and his wife are fine. Well... physically sound.
And while I am very sad for the families of those who died, I must say my real grief and horror is for those who survived. The ones whose bodies will never be the same. And I hope to all that's good that their plight of recovery will spark a debate about treatment (and care) of the disabled in this country.
Because that's the only real, long lasting good I can see coming from this. The only possible payoff for the fear-mongering that's going to escalate into something ever more insane over the next few days/weeks/months.
I just... don't understand. Or hope I don't. Because the faint glimmer of understanding I have is far worse than not knowing why.
