Boston Strong: A Personal Reflection

It’s been almost a week.

For those of you that haven’t been following the news or anything of the like, Monday will mark one week since the Boston Marathon was heinously attacked. I live in Massachusetts and have a large amount of family (both biological and other) that either lives, or works in Boston. For a moment; time froze. There is nothing that will ever ease the news of our states home city being savagely attacked.  I waited with baited breath for phone calls, social media updates, and any sign that those I loved were ok. Thankfully, no one that I knew was injured. So many others were however, somewhere around 200 families (biological and other) felt the shock of domestic terror.

I was angry. So angry I saw red. I wanted the ones responsible dead.

Then I sat back and waited for more news. I saw one of them was no more than 19, the same age as my little sister. I wondered what happened, and for a moment, felt something I wasn’t familiar with. It was an emotion I certainly wasn’t ready for.

Remorse.

Remorse for wishing someone who is just starting out on his life; dead. Remorse for his family.

I became angry with myself when that happened. He acted without any remorse. Why did he deserve mine?

I couldn’t answer that. Not readily. But come Friday, sitting watching again as the state came to a stand still for a third time, he was caught. Lying on a boat, alone, and bleeding badly. He would live to answer for his crimes.

I breathed deep as he was caught and rushed to a hospital. For the first time in a week, I realized that it was going to be ok again.

For now.  This reality of bombs and terrorists is a day to day reality for so many across the world. Syria, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, and so many others. Realizing just how unsafe I felt for a week as news continued to pour in about my beloved Umass Dartmouth and the victims from the marathon, brought more than one tear to my eyes. I cried. And I sobbed. Not only for the events of Monday  but for all those that felt that there is no other way to change our world than through acts of considerable violence.

And then it hit me. Love. Compassion. Kindness of strangers. These are things that spring up in the darkest of situations. Random people reaching out, helping their fellow man; running into the war zone to break down barricades, tearing off their clothes to make tourniquets and save strangers limbs.  I cried because not only because did Boston see the worst of two individuals, but it saw the best of hundreds of them.

There is still much to be done within the city to recover and to ensure that hospital bills are covered. I may not be a Bostonian by birth but I am Boston Strong. I am an American and most of all I will persevere, and help those continue on with their lives.

If you feel compelled to help, below are two links to ensure that the victims and their families will be able to look forward to a bright tomorrow.

Red Cross:
http://www.redcross.org/ma/boston

One Fund:
http://onefundboston.org/

On the Road Again: A Zombie Tale

It was that moment in the afternoon where the sun wasn't quite beginning its descent but the sky had begun to change colors in preparation. For two patrons at the Silver Whistle it didn't matter. The pair sat at the mahogany bar watching the news with half-hearted interest. They both looked tired and the bartender didn't seem to care that the bar wasn't open for another two hours. He stepped forward and poured amber liquor into the glasses and refilled the remaining of the glass with a dark carbonated beverage. The woman pushed some money forward and the bartender just shook his head pushing it back.

"Thanks sweetie. I can use this."

"We all can." the bartender took the girls smile as payment and the gentleman sitting next to her smirked.

"You always do what you want, huh?" His deep brown eyes danced as he began to read his compatriots’. The woman smirked and shook her head.

"Nah... Not always." She ran a hand over her smoothed down ponytail and pulled the elastic out, letting loose her lengthy brown hair. She ruffled her hair quickly and seemed to try to ease the tension in her body. "Be a dear?" She held her hair to the side and turned so her back was towards her friend. He chuckled, took a swig of his poison and began to rub her shoulders. The bartender chuckled quietly to himself noting the sense of comfort the two had with each other. Her face relaxed momentarily. She let out a deep breath and began to understand why all these years that he had loved getting massages.

"How are things at home?" The gentleman asked quietly as he worked on her shoulders.

"What home?" She frowned and all the frustration returned to her face. She reached over to the bar and grabbed her drink, tilting her head back to down it.

"Shit..."

"Dead. Came home to find Mom, Dad, and Evey turned." Her voice was stilted. She twisted the ring on her left ring finger and looked back to her glass. Too bad it was empty. "Haven’t told Sven yet that I had to ..." Her voice broke and the gentleman’s arms went from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her close. She let out a deep sigh and sniffled, her arms resting over his.

"I'm sorry Julia..." He hugged her tight, as if she was the last real thing left in this existence. "He'll understand."

"I hope so." Julia stiffened as the TV seemed to get louder.

"The mob we've been tracking is moving towards the Taunton area, most notably near the Green. Please remain indoors. I repeat remain indoors, and allow the army to deal with the infestation." Julia started laughing a slow, unsettling guttural laugh. The gentleman with her shook his head and tapped her shoulder as he stood.

"C'mon. I've got weapons stored in your van."

"Who knew all those hours of left for dead would come in handy, Derrick " The girl smirked and stood. She pointed to the bartender. "You need a shotgun?"

"Nah I've got my own gun." He smirked and pulled out a sniper rifle, making preparations to mount it on the window. Julia nodded, clearly impressed with his choice of weapon. She pulled out her cell phone and shot off a message to her uncle, while they made their way to the car. A group of people with boards and nails began to filter into the bar.

"We're going back in there?" Derrick asked and looked over to Julia as he tossed her a loaded double barreled shot gun. Julia raised an eyebrow and looked over her sunglasses. "Right."

"On the road again..." Julia sung quietly to herself as the air grew eerily quiet. Just off in the distance you could hear the shuffling of a mob. "Just can't wait to get on the road again..." She looked down the sight to check and see where they were. Nowhere close, yet.

"Time for another drink?" Derrick smirked and she nodded. A least in all of this... she hadn't lost her sense of humor.

Pepper Spray and Protests

There comes a time that when the government becomes too big for its proverbial britches. When this happens, it is the citizens duty to rise up and remind the government who they work for. Peaceful protests and outrage, channeled appropriately are some of the tools in the arsenal against tyranny potentially overtaking our system of government.

I have been a part of protests in Boston and Washington D.C. I have made use of my constitutional rights in fighting against laws that would impede on my rights and the rights of others on issues that affect many on a grand scale. I have sat in protest, joining arms with others, been told to move, had red water thrown at me and marched until I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. I’ve spoken with priests on both sides of issues I marched for, and gotten perspective that I couldn’t without these acts of social outrage.

For those of you that know me personally, you know about the following. I am from a conservative family, led by a powerful woman whom has now passed from our lives. My grandfather, uncle, and now my cousin have proudly served in the United States military. Not one of the members of my family is quiet. We all have strong opinions and no one can change that. I am the newest generation of this proud family, to take to the issues, and do what I can to make life better for myself and those around me. 

That being said, I write this in complete outrage of situations occurring in California. At the University of California at Davis, a campus police office sprayed a line of students with pepper spray, while they sat, arms linked in protest. What they are protesting, and why they were there is irrelevant to me. They align with the recent Occupy movements that have been taking place, so tuition and the general disarray of our economy.

There is something distinctly disturbing about the chemical attack on the students. These officers are there to protect and serve. Protect and serve the citizens that employ them. They, like the government, step out of line from time to time, and must be put back into line. I respect the officers and those that exemplify the best that the system has to offer. I however cannot imagine, being in front of a line of protesters that sat peacefully and spraying them down.

I can not adequately express the poor taste left in my mouth by this situation. I can however say that this will not be the last time we hear about this situation, or situations like it. Riots are breaking out all over the world. The world has declared war on it’s governments, sometimes with very little catalyst. Today, I ask you to take a hard look at what’s important to you. Our fathers, grandfathers, and complete strangers fought to give us these freedoms and protect them. What are you doing to preserve your rights? 

NaNoWriMo Day 16: Into the belly of the beast...

Hey guys! Tis Jessi again... a touch more beleaguered from the NaNo experience. See the video below to find out more about where I'm at in my journey...