Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Boston Strong

Boston is known for it's history, beauty, traditions and strength. Our backbone is made of iron. We've been around a looooong time and we aren't going anywhere. The British didn't scare us off, we scared them off. We are the sons and daughters of the American Revolution and no one person or organization will take that away from us. Whether we were raised in Boston or outside of Boston we all have the same attitude. We aren't the bully on the playground. No we're the kid two sizes smaller than that bully and we're taking out his kneecaps, sending him home crying to mom. The poster is right, You fucked with the wrong city.

We do not bend. We do not give up. And we do not hide. We will not be terrorized by any act of cowardice. If anything our city is stronger than ever. We will carry on. We will not stand in pause of fear and we will not succumb to paralytic inaction. That is not the Boston way.

We are a sports town. Not only do we represent our teams but they give you a good idea of who we are as well. We are the Celtics, steeped in tradition, success and history. We are the Patriots, respected and revered as the best of the best. We are the Red Sox, resilient and proud. We are the Bruins, come at us hard we knock you down harder. Don't. Poke. The Bear.

The Boston Marathon is a day of pride not just in Boston but all around Massachusetts. It's Patriots Day, a day to commemorate the beginning battles of the Revolutionary War. The Battles of Concord and Lexington, the very battles that led to our liberty and independence. It's a day of tradition. The Red Sox play early and those attending the game head down to the finish line of the Marathon to cheer on the runners. These runners from all corners of the world range from elite to beginner, old to young, white to black and they run together freely in a wonderfully 'democratic use of our streets' (phrase stolen from famous runner, Amby Burfoot). This day will not change. This tradition will not be altered. We will not bend.

The spirit of the Bostonian will not break. We pick ourselves up, dust each other off and raise fists to square up with the opposition. When people say "You fucked with the wrong city" this is no joke. This is not the statement of an angered city nor is it an empty threat. Don't make the mistake of taking it lightly. Whether we're blue-collar boys from Southie or well-off businessmen in Cambridge or like me a mild-mannered Plymouth girl, we're all the same. We are fruuuusstrated women, we are lovers and buggers and thieves aww but we're cool people. We are the lyrics of our standard. We are Dirty Water.

We are a city of heroes. Not the heroes you read about in story books. Our heroes are the people who didn't realize their potential for bravery until April the 15th. Those who reacted to the bombs in such a selfless way, those are our heroes. Runners who ran 26.2 miles and then picked up speed to run past the bombing and carnage, straight to the hospital to give blood. Doctors who jogged the marathon, and then raced to the hospital dehydrated and exhausted, but they wanted to help the injured. The soldiers who ruck marched the marathon with 40 extra pounds (of what would turn out to be very necessary supplies) on their back, immediately jumped into action to help civilians. The officers who unthinkingly reacted to the scene with calm, order and control. The medical personnel at the finish line who may have been the difference between life and death in some situations. The police personnel who put themselves in the line of danger while searching for explosives around the city. These are our heroes. These are the people who make our resolve so potent. Our hearts are broken, but our durability and courage is only just being realized.

(former Patriot John Andruzzi)

We will not go gentle into that good night.
We will rage rage against the dying of light.

Plymouth is my town, but Boston is my city. We're known to be Massholes, but you haven't seen anything yet.

** I write this to cope. We all do what we need to when tragedy occurs, I write for myself. I share my words with you all in the hope that they may give someone a feeling of strength. Boston: You are in myprayers.

1 comment:

  1. No words can describe my thoughts after reading this...I logged on to create my own blog, it will pare in comparison. My pride has choked me with tears and I am so lucky to have a daughter who speaks her mind.