Wednesday, April 17, 2013

The Attack

I've been feeling rather melancholy since Monday.

It started out as a normal week, just another Monday. As I was leaving work, I got in my car, turned on the radio and learned that one or more minions of Satan had, again, decided that killing innocent men, women and children was a great idea.

The celebration of Patriot's Day in Boston, the Boston Marathon, shattered by explosions. Marred by blood and pain. But again, a ray of light as ordinary people again stepped up to help their fellows.

I spent most of Tuesday in a sort of detached and pondering mood. Trying very hard to stay away from the media with their pontificating and theorizing. Their ghoulish celebration of victimhood. Apparently filling the 24/7 news cycle requires more drooling idiocy than I would've thought possible.

And just now, this very minute, I've heard that someone I know (and respect), who works where I work, was injured in the attack in Boston. She's a lovely young woman, very bright and personable who now lies injured in a Boston hospital, wondering if she will lose a foot. It sickens me, it angers me.

Folks who wanted nothing more than to enjoy their day at the Boston Marathon, who had probably never harmed anyone, anywhere, ever, now lie dead. Or lie in hospital beds missing limbs, or waiting to find out if their limbs can be saved.

And there are the loved ones of those injured and lost. Confused and angry. "Why us, how could this happen?"

There is great evil in this world, make no mistake. It stalks the innocent, it cares not for mercy, for love nor for anything else which normal folk call "decency".

This post started as one thing, wound up going down a different road due to the news of a co-worker's injuries. It's no longer an abstract thing. It's become a bit more personal.

And to tell you the truth, I'm just a little bit ashamed that I didn't take it this personally before.

My apologies to all of those affected by the events in Boston. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

It is written, "
Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

Evil touches all of us if it touches one of us. Never forget that.

Get well soon, Heather.


Just heard from the WSO. She gave me news of a family we were stationed with in Germany, lovely folks, their daughters are of an age with my daughters. The girls played softball together. Their youngest daughter, Susie, ran the Boston Marathon on Monday. She had finished the race about an hour before the attack.

They were in the vicinity but not the immediate danger area. They are unharmed but certainly had the you-know-what scared out of them.

Mighty glad to hear you and your lovely ladies came away unscathed Cap'n!


What touches one of us, touches all of us.


  1. Oh Sarge, I am so very sorry about your co-worker. To know about it is to hate it, to know someone involved is to cut to the heart.

    My city, my beloved Boston - will stand tall and strong as ever. The cradle of our liberty will endure and so will its people.

    1. You've captured the essence of it Kris.

      "To know about it is to hate it, to know someone involved is to cut to the heart."

      I agree with your sentiments completely.

  2. Hang tough. I fear it's not going to be the last - but then we all know that, even though we hope it isn't so.

    1. Yes, many of the injuries were severe. Reports from yesterday mentioned upwards of 30 people in critical condition.

  3. I'm struggling too. Trying not to let the anger and bitterness strangle me. We are Americans, and we will rise above.

  4. Sending prayers up for your co-worker, and all those wounded or killed. And their families and friends.

  5. The daughter of a high school classmate is a blog reporter for the Boston Globe, and she was very near to both blasts. Her account of the events following, as she and a co-worker moved around gathering and passing along information. Struggling to maintain a balance between her reporting duties and being sensitive to the needs of the injured and traumatized, Alex and her companion often found themselves at cross purposes.

    The end of her story is especially poignant, speaking of Boston...her Boston.

    "I sobbed for what felt like hours. I examined each of my long toes, dripping in water - not blood. I have never felt so lucky, and so whole, while simultaneously feeling blown apart. Like Boston."

  6. My best thoughts for your coworker and for all those injured in the attack. A VERY bad day.

  7. I just offered a prayer for your friend.

    Hideous thing. The Marathon is about as gentle and friendly and non-politicized an event as is possible. To kill and maim people, in such a cowardly way, at an event such as that, is so evil it is fairly much beyond comprehension.

    1. Thanks Jim.

      You're right. I mean the Marathon is like one of the first big events of the spring. And it is SO Boston. There are others, but none like this. Really sticks in my craw.


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