Two explosions took place near the finish line of the Boston Marathon today.
The Boston Marathon brings back fond memories of my early days in New England.
Years (decades?) ago, I worked for a software company in Boston. For months, I lived out of a suitcase at the Four Seasons Hotel on Boylston. The same Boylston that we are seeing today on television. A street now covered in blood and debris.
Back then, one of my colleagues hosted a party on the rooftop of his apartment, which was situated along the marathon route. In my new city filled with history and brownstones and wide tree-lined streets.
Perfect way to celebrate my first Patriots Day (a holiday I was unaware of while living in California).
My first Boston Marathon. With a bunch of twenty-somethings, holding plastic cups of beer, looking down at the crowd and cheering on the runners.
A great introduction to Beantown and its traditions.
It wasn't the only year I cheered on the runners.
But since then I have had to do most of my cheering long-distance.
After moving back to the West Coast, I sponsored a friend (from that same software company) who was running to raise money to help his child and others that needed respite care. It was his first attempt at 26.2 miles. He had the frame of a football player, not a runner, but he finished and laughed that his time was nothing to brag about but money was raised and that was all that mattered.
I have also cheered for one of my fittest and dearest friends (from the same company) that has run the race numerous times.
Today, my first thought was of her when the news broke.
She didn't run this year and is safe, according to her text message.
Unfortunately, that is not the case for so many others...the number of those that have died or were injured has gone up as information pours in on the evening news.
A tragic and devastating end.
To a celebratory holiday.
My heart goes out to all in Boston tonight.