Today, more than a week after the Marathon bombings, Boylston Street has reopened. With mixed emotions--pride, sadness, anger, love--we joined our friends and neighbors to pay our respects. Nearing Copley Square, we found people clustered around memorial items, no one speaking above a whisper. It was a little eerie, actually. We were in the heart of Boston. The only sounds were a few passing cars and crosswalk alerts, sometimes pigeons taking flight. Everyone moved slowly, reading signs, leaving signatures, exchanging hugs. Several comfort dogs were present. The memorial was small really, but well organized and impressive in its way. Flags. Stuffed animals. Hundreds of shirts and shoes and ballcaps. Hardly room to walk. Strangers bumped into each other constantly. Each time apologies were exchanged softly and sincerely. The thing I'll remember? And I saw this several times. I watched joggers stop at the memorial for several minutes and then, after replacing their headphones, dash off with tears and red eyes.
Oh, and Anderson Cooper was there.