Footprints on the Web

4.15.2013. It was the morning of the Boston Marathon. As I woke up at a ridiculous hour in the morning to get dressed and go to volunteer, little did I know I was going to experience a day in history.

It was my first time volunteering at the marathon. I had seen it in years past and cheered on runners. This time I decided to sign up through my employer for corporate volunteer program and volunteer at the finish line.

I met up with a coworker at the spot where we were instructed to check in. We got our jackets and badges for volunteers. It felt pretty great. Although my small sized jacket was of course oversized. Regular people clothes always are on me. We had been instructed to wait by the finish line to spot runners as they crossed the finish line. We were to identify their runner number and direct them to the appropriate yellow school bus that had their personal items they left prior to starting the marathon. There were a large number of buses and they had been loaded with runners personal items. Buses were divided by runner badge numbers. 100-200 on bus #1, 201-300 on bus #2 and so forth. Sounded pretty simple. Plus we got to see who finished the races and congratulate them. Pretty sweet spot to volunteer at. I thought.

We met up with fellow coworker volunteers and chatted away, ate and drank as the first set of runners were not going to be coming for another little while. It was a nice day. The sun was shining. Everyone was positive. We had made plans to go for drinks after the marathon and our shifts. The first of the runners started coming in and we started spotting them. We congratulated and directed them to the respective bus based on their runner badge number.

I was facing the finish line standing right in front of it talking to my coworker about work. All of a sudden a very loud bang along with a burst of fire appeared right in front of eyes. It scared my coworker who swung around to face the finish line. She asked me, ‘what was that?’. I said, ‘ uh I think it was an explo…’. Before I could finished my sentence, we saw and heard another loud bang with another explosion of fire. We stared at each other for few seconds and then looked back towards the finish line. My coworker said , ‘That doesn’t sound good. We should leave’.

‘No, no it didn’t. It didn’t look good either.’

We turned around unsure what to do but very soon the environment we were in changed drastically. I remember seeing people running away from the finish line. And I am not talking just runners. Spectators. Random folks on street. I saw someone limping. I saw some with blood stains. I saw and heard someone screaming. It was short bursts of intense emotions felt all at once.

The person in charge of assigning and directing all the volunteers told us to leave what we were doing and run. The cops wanted everyone to clear the premises immediately apparently. We did not know what was happening. For a nice and wide street, Boylston street felt awfully narrow that day with the bouts of crowds of people rushing in one direction. Some of these people were marathon runners who had their foil blankets on. This is not how they would have imagine their victory. This is not how I had imagined their victory.

We just kept running down Boylston to get away but wasn’t sure were to. I remember looking at my phone to see if I could look up the news as to what was happening. I did not have any service. Great! What a time to not have service, I thought. I asked my coworker to look it up on her phone. She didn’t have service on her cellphone either. This must be serious. After running down few blocks, my coworker and I decided to get into the Omni Boston hotel. We were in the lobby and it looked like it was crammed with the Marathon crowd. The television was on and it was on the new channel. It was a bombing. Multiple bombings at the finish like of Boston Marathon. We watched in disbelief.

Our phones’ service restored eventually. The text messages and voicemails started coming in. My family and friends had been trying to reach me as they were aware that I was volunteering at the finish line of the marathon. And the news had traveled to all news channel fast. My home was very closed to the Omni Parker. My coworker and I decided to split and get home safe. I remember running home, going up the elevators, not looking at anyone, and rushing inside my apartment and locking the door behind me. I sat on my bed hugging my dog for a long time before I decided to return all the calls and text messages to let everyone know I am safe.

I don’t remember leaving my apartment for weeks after that day. I couldn’t, I didn’t want to. I felt crippled. All I did was watch the news like a hawk. Work was very understanding and gave volunteers time off to process what they had been part of. My friends and neighbors left flowers and chocolates by my door as I refused to see anyone or let anyone inside my apartment. My dog did not get walks. Fortunately, he is trained to go on doggy pee pads. But that did not mean he was not going stir crazy. And making me go nuts.

The whole city was under the surveillance of the police, army, national guard with men in uniform everywhere. I decided to muster up some strength and pull myself up from bed to put on something decent to take my dog out atleast to the Commons where he loved to frolic like a wild animal. As I walked out of the building, the sun blinded me. I had been in my apartment with all curtains drawn with minimal sunlight all those days. I had forgotten what the light and air outside felt like. I had no strength to really take my dog for a walk. I just let him play on the grass as I watched him.

The Commons was no longer the same place I knew where people gathered and had activities. The place had turned into a parking lot for the army and national guard. There were tanks I had never quite seen in person before. Who knew good old historic Boston would turn out this way someday? As I was lost in my thoughts, an abrupt set of shots started being fired. I don’t know what the source was but remember cowering on the ground before seeing that it spooked my dog who took off to the heavy traffic Beacon street. I started chasing him screaming him to stop. Probably not the smartest thing to do but I was not thinking. He was too fast. He crossed the street and cars slammed on their brakes screeching to a stop. I got cursed at by one of the drivers as I kept chasing after him. A man coming from the opposite direction saw the commission and tried to block my dog’s path as he was coming towards his direction. He was successful. I grabbed my dog, thanked the man and went back home to our safe space.

I was to go to Martha’s Vineyard with my dog, friends and their pups. The trip obviously got postponed The city went into lockdown to catch the terrorist on the run. All I was interested to do all day was watching the news. The day the terrorist was finally arrested, I remember feeling a little different. The feeling is hard to describe. But it was different to what I had been accustomed to feeling recently. Perhaps, it was a sense of relief. Like something had been clogging my throat or lungs all this while. And I could breath again.