Two Days Later
I had just finished work on Monday when I turned on the
television, hoping to catch a few minutes of “Ellen” before starting dinner,
walking the dog, putting on a load of laundry, picking the car up from the gas
station. (New tires in anticipation of a
trip to Malice were in order.) I saw the
news. I got that feeling in the pit of
my stomach again, the one that told me “my family lives in the Boston area…my
aunt and uncle took the kids into the city today…I wonder where they are
now?…god, I hope they are safe.” A few
texts to my cousin assured me that while they did go into the city, they were
at the ball game and on a train on the way home. Yes, they had been asked to exit the train
and were stranded somewhere but a family member was on the way to get them.
television, hoping to catch a few minutes of “Ellen” before starting dinner,
walking the dog, putting on a load of laundry, picking the car up from the gas
station. (New tires in anticipation of a
trip to Malice were in order.) I saw the
news. I got that feeling in the pit of
my stomach again, the one that told me “my family lives in the Boston area…my
aunt and uncle took the kids into the city today…I wonder where they are
now?…god, I hope they are safe.” A few
texts to my cousin assured me that while they did go into the city, they were
at the ball game and on a train on the way home. Yes, they had been asked to exit the train
and were stranded somewhere but a family member was on the way to get them.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
But as the evening wore on, the news got worse and worse and
the dread returned. I focused instead on
the people who went into harm’s way to help the fallen, those who gave rides to
grievously injured victims, those who had run the marathon themselves but who
then turned into first responders when they saw people on the route who needed
help.
the dread returned. I focused instead on
the people who went into harm’s way to help the fallen, those who gave rides to
grievously injured victims, those who had run the marathon themselves but who
then turned into first responders when they saw people on the route who needed
help.
Mr. Rogers said that in times like these, when trying to
explain to children why evil people do horrible things to innocents, we should
“look for the helpers.” I grew up with a “helper,” a father who was a police
officer and most likely saw terrible things happen to innocent people, and I
have always found comfort in that, the idea that my father traveled along side
someone in their darkest moment, helping them come out on the other side,
wherever that might have been. When I
scanned the news footage and saw all the people helping one another—the cops
who looked like younger versions of my dad, the onlookers who looked like my
family who lives in the area, the kids who reminded me of my own—I just kept
reciting “look for the helpers” and that made the images a little easier to
watch. Not much, but a little bit.
explain to children why evil people do horrible things to innocents, we should
“look for the helpers.” I grew up with a “helper,” a father who was a police
officer and most likely saw terrible things happen to innocent people, and I
have always found comfort in that, the idea that my father traveled along side
someone in their darkest moment, helping them come out on the other side,
wherever that might have been. When I
scanned the news footage and saw all the people helping one another—the cops
who looked like younger versions of my dad, the onlookers who looked like my
family who lives in the area, the kids who reminded me of my own—I just kept
reciting “look for the helpers” and that made the images a little easier to
watch. Not much, but a little bit.
New York was never the same after 9/11 and I had hoped that
that feeling of camaraderie and togetherness would live on forever. Maybe it has in some small way but after time
passes, life returns to “normal”—whatever that is after something like this
happens—and people forget that we’re all in this together, that we are all each
other’s “helpers,” letting someone merge in on the road when you’re in a rush, holding open the subway doors for a mom pushing
a stroller, holding someone’s hand after
something catastrophic has brought you both together. I don’t think we can stop this
insanity—it will always be an undercurrent in our society—but we can try to
hold onto the feeling of what it was like to see the helpers on those Boston
streets and know that that is what triumphs over evil every time: helping.
that feeling of camaraderie and togetherness would live on forever. Maybe it has in some small way but after time
passes, life returns to “normal”—whatever that is after something like this
happens—and people forget that we’re all in this together, that we are all each
other’s “helpers,” letting someone merge in on the road when you’re in a rush, holding open the subway doors for a mom pushing
a stroller, holding someone’s hand after
something catastrophic has brought you both together. I don’t think we can stop this
insanity—it will always be an undercurrent in our society—but we can try to
hold onto the feeling of what it was like to see the helpers on those Boston
streets and know that that is what triumphs over evil every time: helping.
Maggie Barbieri
Well said, Maggie. And yes, those are the images that give me comfort when the rest of me is so sad.
Laura, you are married to a "helper." That must give you comfort. May all the helpers stay safe. Maggie
Thanks, Mags. Good take and advice. I also like the Patton Oswalt comment that went wide and similar stuff from people like Stephen Colbert. In summary: Bad people, evil people, mean and vicious people will always be in our midst and sometimes they will do things that are just terrible and make many cry. BUT, good people, noble people, kind and brave people will always–always–outnumber and out-perform them and all this particular cruelty showed was just how wonderful literally thousands of people can be when others need them to be.
Disaster – man made or natural – brings out the very worst in some people but the very best in others. It's when we show who we really are.
Excellent post on this difficult subject, Maggie. Jeri Westerson, author of medieval mysteries, wrote yesterday that anyone who studies history can tell that, even with the senseless violence and wars we have today, we still live in the most civilized, enlightened time history has known when people value diversity the most and reach out to help those in trouble, even halfway across the world, and that is something quite new in the world that we should remember and value.
What a wonderful way of looking at things. Thank you. I would like to believe we live in a civilized time. I simply do not understand the hate that some people carry in their heart. But, I reckon they would be that way no matter the time in which they lived. In fact, when I think back, we have always had some who carry a dark soul.