Where Were You? Students' Stories of the Boston Marathon Bombing • An ICMPA Media Literacy Project
I found out about the bombing from a NYT popup notification which appeared on my iPhone just before 3:00PM on Monday, April 15. I was in my car, getting ready to drive to Silver Spring where I teach a small group of middle school girls online skills for knowledge sharing. I didn’t think much of the notification, until I came back from Silver Spring to campus and started reading more about the events, still on my phone, using the New York Times app, and refreshing it over and over again to receive the latest line of breaking news related to the story.
Around 6:00PM it dawned on me that I know people in Boston, so I texted (again with my iPhone) a long-time family friend to ask whether his family members were safe. He is a professor at Boston College, and two of his three sons live in the Boston area. One of them, Jonathan, is very athletic and recently won a Tour of the Catskills bike competition – so I was particularly concerned about him.
My friend called me back (still on the iPhone) and we talked for a few minutes. He said everyone was okay, including his students at Boston College, some of whom had participated in the Marathon. This is how I went through the event of last Monday. The news was especially sad because my fiancé and I had just recently (in March) been to Boston on a Spring Break trip and been enchanted by Beacon Hill and the Commons. The secret purpose of this trip was to infect him with my love of this city – to heighten my chances of one day achieving my dream of living there. Again.
When I was seven my parents and I moved to Cambridge, MA, and it has always been an idyllic place in my imagination, ever since we left in 1994. A place I want to come back to. A place where nothing could ever go wrong. A place where, if I could manage somehow to return to, everything else in my life would somehow magically be “solved.”
This city has a deep significance in my life because I can not remember being happier than I was there, during those brief two years. I received my first communion there, at St Paul’s Parish in Cambridge. This photo shows me on the day of my First Communion.