As a news junkie, I've been glued to the television set since late last night. I was just about to go to bed on Thursday night when I saw a Breaking News alert come on CNN. I stayed up watching events unfold until 4:30 in the morning. I know that was pretty stupid, but every time I thought about going to bed, something new would happen.
I heard about the firefight
between the suspects and the officers and special agents working the case. The
last estimate I heard said some 200 rounds were fired and explosive devices
such as pipe bombs were lobbed at law enforcement. And they were in my
thoughts—one officer slain in his police car and another critically wounded and
in the hospital fighting to survive and the situation wasn't resolved yet. I
couldn't help but wonder how many others would be hurt or killed in the line of
duty?
Then on Friday evening, more
rounds of gunfire were heard. This time things felt different and I had this
sense that this was it, that they'd finally get this last guy. They did. Captured!!! the Boston PD's Twitter feed
said.
Something pretty cool happened
that evening. As the police withdrew from the scene, the people of Watertown,
MA gathered on the sidewalk and cheered the officers and special agents as they
left.
They cheered!
They cheered and chanted and
said thank you to law enforcement for what they'd done, the risks they'd taken
to keep them safe. I teared up, I admit it. This was that awesome. Our society calls
overpriced professional athletes (some of whom have arrest records) heroes and
cheer them on for winning a championship, but you don't see cheers for the men
and women who work every day to keep us safe.
But Bostonians did. They cheered
for their police, for the FBI, and for all the other people who put their lives
on the line to arrest a man who'd already killed 4 people and injured hundreds
of others. (I'm supposed to put allegedly in there or something, right? Pretend
I did.)
The people of Boston had already
impressed me during the week. The way they rushed to help after the bombings,
the way they refused to let the event on Monday cow them, the crowd at the
Bruins game singing The Star-Spangled
Banner so loud and proud, drowning out the man who was officially singing
it, and the way they helped each other in the days afterward. But of all the
things I saw, cheering for the people who actually deserve it and are too often
taken for granted was the best.
Part of being a writer is being
able to imagine things really well; it's why I'm a borderline hypochondriac
among other things. And I could imagine being a police officer. I could imagine
pursuing two men who'd carjacked someone at gunpoint. I could imagine them
throwing explosives at me. I could imagine being involved in the gunfight that
followed, knowing that the men shooting at me had just savagely killed an
officer at MIT a short while earlier. I could imagine thinking of my
family—spouse, kids, parents—and being scared that I wouldn't be able to go
home to them at the end. That I'd take a bullet, too, despite the tactical
gear. I can imagine trying to control the adrenaline, to do my job and keep the
people in the houses around me safe.
And because I can imagine all of
this, it makes me appreciate what these people do all the more.
I can't help but wonder if these
events will alter the relationship between the citizens of Boston and the
surrounding environs and their police officers. I wonder if they'll remember
six months from now what these men and women did for them and still be
grateful. Time has a way of dulling memories, but I hope this does change
things and that maybe people will remember who the real heroes are and say
thank you whenever they see one.
