A community project hosted at Northeastern University

An Unforgettable Week


My experiences in and around Boston during the week of the Marathon Bombing


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As the native of a town that is only around a 45-minute drive from Boston and a long-time student at Northeastern University, I have been around or lived in the city for a significant amount of my life. The days and weeks spend in Boston all start to blur into one collective memory for me, but the week in mid-April that the Marathon Bombing occurred will be a time that will always remain clear to me and that I will never forgot. By chance, on the Monday afternoon of the terrorist attack, I was not in Boston, but was actually at home in order to attend a normal doctor’s appointment. However, I soon learned about the bombing and my cell phone immediately started to receive calls and texts from some of my family and friends who were concerned that I may have been in the area near the attacks and wanted to make certain that I was safe. Once I reassured them, I quickly started to contact a few of my own friends in Boston to make sure that they were not harmed in the horrific incident.

Thankfully, my friends were not involved, but nevertheless the second I returned to Boston the next day, I realized that the city would be quite different for the foreseeable future. I was completing the Co-op program at Northeastern at that time and was working at a law firm in Downtown Boston, so each day going to work that week it was impossible not to notice the greatly increased presence of police officers and other security personnel. Since the perpetrators of the bombing were unknown at that time, an inexplicable sense of threat and menace seemed to be present. The morning of Friday, April 19 began for me with a frantic call from my father, who told me about the overnight shooting and the vast manhunt for Dzhokhar Tsarnaev that was ensuing. After being warned that Boston was basically on lockdown and that I should remain indoors, I received the expected call from my work’s manager telling me that the law office was closed.

Between the constant newscasts discussing the latest developments and the frequent police sirens, the only thing I could think about that day was the crazy events that were occurring. When I left my dorm room for a brief trip to grab food at one of Northeastern’s dining hall, it seemed that Boston had become a ghost town. The streets were nearly devoid of all people, no cars or public transit were operating, and most of the stores were closed. Early that night, my parents drove in to Boston to pick me up and bring me home for the weekend, and they themselves were shocked at how quiet the usual busy streets of the city were. Their drive into Boston and then our subsequent drive away from the city was faster than it had ever been and I estimate ever will be. For that Friday after the Marathon Bombing, the determined hunt for one man had essentially put Boston at a standstill. Living in Boston soon returned to a level of normalcy for me, but to this day I still notice and sense the heightened security measures that the terrorist attack has instilled.


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