Claire was my first call on Marathon Monday. She lives in Watertown and this is her story.
I went to bed early that night, maybe 10pm. I rolled over around 11:30 and checked facebook, as all good social media addicts do, and saw that a police officer had been shot at MIT. Keith was still awake but hadn’t heard yet that the officer had died. Then the sirens. So many sirens, and so loud. I wondered aloud if it was possible the sirens were carrying from across the river in Kendall Square right to our open bedroom window. A few more minutes went by, then POP, poppoppoppop, BOOM, pop pop POP POP. Like those fireworks that crackle, but it went on for several minutes, with a few LOUD explosions mixed in. I anxiously asked Keith if we could turn on the TV, just to see, in case the news had any information.
I went to bed early that night, maybe 10pm. I rolled over around 11:30 and checked facebook, as all good social media addicts do, and saw that a police officer had been shot at MIT. Keith was still awake but hadn’t heard yet that the officer had died. Then the sirens. So many sirens, and so loud. I wondered aloud if it was possible the sirens were carrying from across the river in Kendall Square right to our open bedroom window. A few more minutes went by, then POP, poppoppoppop, BOOM, pop pop POP POP. Like those fireworks that crackle, but it went on for several minutes, with a few LOUD explosions mixed in. I anxiously asked Keith if we could turn on the TV, just to see, in case the news had any information.
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| View from Claire’s window |
Boston had not been the same all week. There was a LARGE police presence throughout the city with a uniformed officer or military guard on most street corners. Bomb threats and “suspicious packages” popped up throughout the city all week long. A family member who works in law enforcement emailed us to say, “Stay safe. They’re not telling you everything.” Despite this, I somehow didn’t make the connection that the shooting at MIT and the sirens blaring outside my window were associated with the marathon bombings. It took turning on the local news before I put the pieces together. I’ll never forget the visceral fear in Adam Williams’ voice, projected through my television as he huddled behind a parked car not two blocks from my house.
We didn’t go back to sleep that night. Keeping the news on was oddly comforting. We stayed in the bedroom with the shades pulled, afraid even to look out the window. Around 2:30am we discussed a strategy for where to hide if he broke in. Around 6am we grabbed the cat carrier out of the basement and packed a bag in case we got evacuated. Medication, water, granola bars, contact solution, cat food. They said not to open the door to anyone other than clearly marked officials. I wondered how we would know – turns out the full SWAT gear (with automatic weapons) was a good clue.
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| Watertown proud |
They lifted the shutter indoors order at 6pm with no signs of the suspect, and I remember feeling more anxious than at any other point during the day – we kept you indoors all day while we searched for this dangerous criminal and we didn’t find him but we think it’s OK to go outside now. WHAT??? Minutes after the broadcast the sound of helicopters erupted; we figured they were heading back to Hanscom, or wherever helicopters live. About 10 minutes after that returned the sound I will never again mistake for fireworks. We were ahead of the news, since we could hear it before they could broadcast it, then finally the announcement from our new hero, Ed Davis: “We’re so grateful to bring justice to this case. To those families that lost loved ones, and from neighborhoods that lived in fear for an entire day, we have a suspect in custody.” The city celebrated, cheering at the ambulance that transported a murderer. I sat on the couch sobbing – the first time I had left my bedroom all day. To celebrate any part of this horrific tragedy simply felt inhumane.
Morning broke with eerie silence Saturday in Watertown. Love and support poured in to Boston from all over the world. And we laced up and began to heal.
Kara Cooks and Eats 