I live roughly a mile and a half where the current drama surrounding the Boston Marathon bomber unfolded this morning. I have heard the sirens. The footage that’s been broadcast is a neighborhood I walk through all the time.
You know what? At some point, I thought, “F*ck this guy. I’m going to Dunkin’ Donuts.”
I wouldn’t have gone out for coffee if I thought I was at real risk, of course. I may be relatively close, but honestly it’s like a different world, less than two miles away. There are cars on the road, people on the streets, and the Dunky’s just down the block from me is packed because, well, it’s the only thing open for nearby Cambridge residents and they, like I, need coffee. Really the only hint of anything wrong is the fact that a normally busy Friday morning is quiet with few cars on the road.
I’m not going to write another damn essay about how “flinty and resilient” Bostonians are, because those articles are pretty annoying. Or write yet another article about how you shouldn’t be freaked out by terrorism. Is this scary? Of course it’s scary. I’m absolutely scared, and sad for the people these cowards have killed. The suspect in question has been involved in at least two cop killings, he’s apparently still got explosives, and he’s been threatening cops about a mile and a half from where I live. Did I hesitate before going out the door? A little bit. I’m not some action hero badass.
But how I keep it together is by looking at the larger picture. Boston is rarely host to terrorist events. This guy is cornered by the police and by the end of the day he’ll be dead or in custody. I have better odds of being hit by a bus than being killed by an act of terror.
We should mourn those hurt and killed, and help the families hurt by this tragedy. But beyond that? Carry on, with iced coffee in hand.