My husband has run through the streets of Boston as a marathoner, and my family walked the Freedom Trail, a faded, red-brick line leading us through an incredible time in American history.
Visiting Boston on Patriots’ Day, a holiday that celebrates the beginnings of the Revolutionary War, was extraordinary. Walking the Freedom Trail and reading about the significance of each stop heightened our appreciation of what the founders of this country battled to ensure our freedom.
We stood in front of the Old State House where the Declaration of Independence was read for the first time, and tears formed as I imagined what people must’ve thought to hear those revolutionary words for the first time.
In front of the Old North Church, we strained our necks to look up at the steeple, imagining what Paul Revere felt like as he watched for the signal to see if the British were coming to start a war.
I was reminded of Revere’s vigilance when some vile piece of human garbage planted two bombs along the Boston Marathon race route this week, killing and maiming innocent people, including 8-year-old Martin Richard, a child looking forward to playing Little League baseball this spring, and 29-year-old Krystle Campbell who was “daddy’s little girl.”
The “why” question is on everyone’s minds – why someone felt they needed to kill innocent bystanders to make a point or how they rationalized they were accomplishing some grandiose goal by killing parade bystanders.
Dozens of columns have been written about the attacks, some quite eloquent like Patton Oswalt’s Facebook posting reminding us that good people will always outnumber the bad.
Others are pointing fingers while others want to cancel every public event for fear that something like this could happen again.
I can’t blame them, but we have to step back into life. It must’ve been frightening to be the first one on an American Airlines flight out of New York City after 9/11, but people did it. And Just like we did after Sept. 11, 2001, we will find the strength to go back to our daily lives.
But we’ve been scarred. People are no longer cavalier about big crowds. They no longer believe they are safe in their own backyards.
We let our guard down at the marathon, naively thinking malcontents wouldn’t hurt innocent people who were simply standing on a street corner, waiting for their loved ones to cross the finish line in a race they’d dreamed of completing for years.
That line is a magical spot where runners congratulate the winner. Athletes respect those who take five or six grueling hours to complete the course, refusing to give up until they cross that finish line.
And that’s what it’ll take to beat these cowards. We cannot give up because they surprised us. We cannot give up because we’re scared they might retaliate and curtail some of our personal freedoms.
We’re Americans.
We do not give up.
We do not allow a faceless, nameless enemy to bully us into cancelling events like marathons or airline flights or movie openings. We pull the wagons closer and renew our vow to stay vigilant, just as Paul Revere did watching for the lanterns in the steeple of the North Church.
One if by land. Two if by sea.
No matter how they come, America will remain standing.
This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.