So I’m branching out a little today and there will be no Scene it on Friday. For the followers who haven’t picked up on where I’m located from past posts or tweets, I am in the Boston area. I’m a Bostonian born and bred, with Boston always being within a 15 minute (and now 25 minute) drive from my house. Before we moved, our apartment was 10 minutes away.
As you know, the marathon bombings of Monday and the subsequent craziness has culminated with today’s manhunt and as I write, they have not yet captured the second suspect. These events have been the sole focus for past week. It has been tragic, but also wonderful to get emails and texts from friends showing their support and hoping that we are okay. Everyone I talked to has been effected in some way, either by knowing someone injured, someone running, or even just not being able to get to their home in Boston.
On Monday, I was in Boston at the Red Sox game with my father. The tickets had been given to me as a birthday gift and though I don’t necessarily love baseball (I am definitely a football fan), it was an awesome game. It was one of those games that had you at the edge of your seat the entire time as the Red Sox pulled away with a last minute win at the end of the ninth inning. The game ended around 2:00pm.
While walking out of Fenway, I asked my father if he would like to walk to the finish line with me to watch the end of the marathon which is only about a 20 minute walk. He declined because he had work to do at home and also wanted to go to the office for a little bit. I didn’t mind much…for once – we didn’t know anyone running in the race. We watched some of the marathon runners outside Fenway and reminisced about the time we partially ran in it to support a family friend. We boarded the T line at 2:30pm.
The bombings occurred at 2:50pm. We were lucky. There are so many “ifs” in this situation: if my father said yes to my request to go to the finish line, if we decided to stay in Boston longer, if the Red Sox went into extra innings, if, if, if.
Our train stopped for a while, but we thought it was the normal hectic overload of Patriots Day: Red Sox fans, marathon runners, marathon supporters, etc. We had no service, so didn’t know what was going on. When our T train came above ground at one stop, I was getting a few calls, but every time I tried to answer, the call was dropped. (Isn’t it crazy how the government has the ability to shut down all calls?) Even my texts were not going through, but I believed it to be my phone to be acting up.
We arrived home safely and once we were outside the vicinity of Boston, we were able to answer calls, receive texts, and find out what happened. I say again, we are so lucky.
I couldn’t figure out how to relate this to Star Wars this week, so I declined to post anything. I was more shook up then I cared to admit and disturbed that this would happen to my city, my beloved Boston. I think we often think of ourselves more highly than we should. We believe that we are the center of intellectualism and when crazy things have happened in other parts of the US, we have blamed it on the fact that they are in the Midwest somewhere, or the South. I mean, really, you would never find such a smart city like Boston having that kind of insanity in our citizens. Right? Wrong. Yes, these two boys are from Russia and not a native US citizen, but they have lived in Cambridge for some time.
I realized that every place you are in at that moment, is the right place. Because you know for a solid 100% certainty when you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. And that’s what happened at the finish line of the marathon on Monday. People were in the wrong place at the wrong time and I could have been one of those people. Even now, I am at the right place at the right time, whereas my friend, who is in Watertown, is at the wrong place at the wrong time (thankfully, she is safe). It just happens in life and it’s one of those things you can’t predict for the most part.
These past couple of days, I have thought back on the Star Wars characters who were just at the right place at the right time. The most obvious example that relates to my life would be Luke in ANH. When Artoo took off, he went off to find him, which led him to Obi-Wan…but as we know – if he had lingered or decided to stay home, he would be roast meat with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. And then what would have happened to the rest of the trilogy? What about the despised Jar Jar Binks? He was just minding his own business and got swept up in a galaxy of drama. Was he in the right place at the right time or wrong place at the wrong time? I know what most would say.
Our entire lives can be shaped by where we are when something happens. A fluke accident happens where you are and you get caught up in a saga worthy of Star Wars. Right now, for us, it feels like The Empire Strikes back, but here’s to hoping that the ending will have notes of Return of the Jedi.