Boston

“Those who would give up essential Liberty to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.” ~Benjamin Franklin

April 19, 2013 (Continued)When we got back to the house, the Western world was just waking up. We tuned into the news for an update and learned that the city of Boston was going to be on lockdown until the missing bomber was found. It was unnerving to watch. Seeing a US city with armored vehicles, troops marching in rows, helicopters whizzing overhead…it looked like a disaster film more than a news report.

For lunch, Dale had heated up the left of gnocchi and we sat around to eat it. Getting more details, it appeared that the bomber was hiding in a house and that various defenses forces were surrounding the building to confirm he was captured.

I remember the day after the bombing had happened. I’d gone to school early that morning (April 16) to work on a group project with a Czech student and Swedish student. When I arrived, I’d asked them ominously, “Did you hear about Boston?”

“Yes,” the Swedish guy said. His tone indicated that it was tragic but not particularly significant.

His next question through me a bit. “Did you hear about Sweden?” he asked.

“No!” I said. “What happened.”

“An epileptic woman had a seizure in a train station and while she was…you know shaking...some men raped her and stole her things.”

It made me think, the explosion in Boston was horrific, but horrific things were happening around the world every day. Obviously the things that happen in our own country and impact us directly are more news worthy, but as human beings, why aren’t we just as concerned with the pain of the world as we are with perceived dangers within our country.

As we watched the broadcast on Mary’s laptop, Mary would recognize parks and streets from where they used to live. She and Dale tried to figure out if they knew anyone still in that area, but no one came to mind. On the screen meanwhile, we saw armed gunmen circling the house. Troops of police officers and special agents piled out of vehicles. Highly sophisticated vans and helicopters moved in. It looked like an invasion.

It looked like the signs and posters in the museums in Prague.

It looked like when the Nazis rolled into Czechoslovakia.

It looked like the day the Communists stormed Wenceslas Square.

I don’t want to get political—and I probably already have—but it was shocking to see from the outside. I’m not comparing the US response to the Boston bombing to Hitler’s takeover of the Sudetenland…what I am saying, is the visual bears a striking parallel to many dictatorial regimes. Realizing the power that our government has—to shut down and invade a city, to turn of cell phone service and internet (rather that happened or not)—to me is terrifying.

To sum it up, the news report certainly did not look like the “land of the free” that I remember…or maybe that I’ve imagined existed.

With time, the news seemed to be interviewing everyone who had ever known the two bombers. I fully expected at some point to hear, “I was his freshmen gym locker partner.” The questions about his personality cracked me up too. Did they really expect someone to say, “Ya, I knew him, and you know, he always struck me as someone who would do something like this”?

After a while, it got annoying and we turned it off. I went downstairs and worked on some homework and a blog post. I pulled out my journal and jotted down notes from the day. The reality was, I felt very torn. It was weird witnessing a “historical event” in my own country from outside my country.

I felt so conflicted. I love America. I think our history is fun and fascinating. I’m Eagle Scout, and I’ve learned to salute those stars and stripes proudly. I pray for God to bless America, and for liberty and justice for all.

Yet at the same time, I was getting a very different view of my homeland. In some weird way, I felt embarrassed by what the world was seeing. I know the bombing was tragic, but the response looked so over the top. Is this what people see when they see America? Do we always look over dramatic?

I’m really not trying to say the response was dramatic or over the top. But I am saying that from an outsider’s perspective, that is what it looked like.

After a while, I went back upstairs. Mary was making schnitzel for dinner and it smelled amazing. They were still closely watching the laptop, and I startled everyone when I came in. At this point, it had been determined that the bomber was not in fact inside the house.

“There was someone in the house,” Dale said, but it wasn’t him.

“That guy had to be sweating bullets,” I said.

“What if he was like a drug dealer?” Mary said. “He’s probably thinking, ‘Shoot! They found me!’”

After a bit, we shut off the laptop for dinner. The food tasted awesome, and we shared more laughs and stories as we caught Dale up on our adventure in the city. After dinner, we carved into the truffle cake. Shaped like a little house, it was a rich block of fudge with a  bitter layer of frosting on the outside. It wasn’t real sweet, but it was real good!

After dinner we turned on the TV for one last update, only to see the ban was being lifted.

“Well that makes sense,” Dale said sarcastically. “If all day, the government has been telling you ‘stay inside, it’s not safe’ and now they say ‘we don’t know where he is, so go outside, I wouldn’t be buying it.’”

The last question that a reporter asked an office stuck with me as I went to bed. Her question was, “How far away do you think we are from catching him, so that some justice can be served to these families?”

Not only does it seem ridiculous to me that she would ask for a timeline, but I found it an insulting use of the word “justice.” How can there ever be any justice here? Will catching him bring people back to life? Will catching him bring back the arms and legs and livelihoods that were lost?

I lay awake for a long time tonight thinking about it. It broke my heart in so many ways. It made me sad for the people who had lost so much in the attack. It made me sad for the officers who had lost so much in chasing this man down. It made me sad for the citizens of Boston that were so stuck in the middle of a nightmare.

And it made me wonder if anyone outside of America was sad at all.