Before today, I couldn’t post pictures from Marathon Monday. They’re not pictures of the bombing or anything, just pictures of people running. But still, it felt weird posting such happy moments that not too long after turned into tragedy. But I feel like, now that they’ve apprehended the suspect, and Boylston Street is open once again, I feel more at ease posting the pictures from that day, along with pictures I took of Boylston and Copley Square today.



Walking down Boylston today, I walked past Forum. Seeing the restaurant all boarded up, and then looking across the street to the Lord and Taylor that I was standing in front of during the marathon, it was then I really realized how close I could have been to the explosions, and I was overwhelmed with relief that I had left before anything happened. During the marathon, I remember standing next to some ladies who commented on how the crowds seemed thinner across the street, and that they wished they were there because one the ladies wanted to give her significant other a celebratory kiss as he ran by before crossing the finish line. I wondered about them after the explosions, if they had stayed and whether they were hurt at all. I also started thinking about the people in my photos – were they there during the explosions? Are they okay? It’s really surreal thinking about these people I have never met and yet we’re all somehow united by this senseless act of evil.

Outside Max Brenner’s. They had sidewalk chalk for people to write messages in their patio area.


Outside Marathon Sports, the site of the first explosion.

I get to Copley Square where they have moved all the makeshift memorials from the street. It was overwhelming, seeing the outpouring of support and sympathy from people all over. I was overwhelmed with grief, for those that lost loved ones and for those that were injured, some losing limbs and other serious injuries. And also for all of us Bostonians, for that moment where our lives were marked by fear and uncertainty. I left a little message on one of the signs, and then made my way home.





Less a week before the bombings, I was on the phone with my dad. We were making goals for my future, and he said, “You know you might have to move home.”

“I know, but I don’t want to. I like living in Boston and I want to stay here.”

“I know you do. So you should try your best to be able to stay in Boston.”

And even after all that has happened, I still want to live here. Maybe even more determined to. I am so proud of this city and the people who live and work here. We are #Bostonstrong and we will not only carry on, but we will thrive.



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