I'm nowhere near ready to post any kind of coherent thoughts about what happened yesterday, but enough people have contacted me to check in that I figured I should at least let you all know that everyone Chez Verbatim is safe. We were nowhere near the Boston Marathon finish line when the blasts occurred, and we've been able to account for all of our friends who were either running or watching downtown. We are lucky.
This has always been my favorite day to be a Bostonian, and I was just bragging to someone last week from out of state what a day of "good, clean fun" it always is. It's Patriots' Day, so lots of people are off from work; it's public school vacation week, so kids are all out and about; there's always a morning Sox game, so downtown is extra-packed; and the marathon itself is obviously a world-class sporting event that we are proud to host. Over the years I've posted how much we enjoy our short walk down the street to where the runners pass the 16.5-mile mark; sometimes we spot someone we know, but mostly we just cheer on everyone who passes. So, yes, I'm sad and I'm scared, but I'm also furious that our beloved marathon has been forever marred in this way—what will happen next year? It's too much to consider.