Later that morning, the families gathered inside the John B. Hynes Veterans Memorial Convention Center near the finish line, where hundreds attended an emotional memorial service to remember Martin Richard, Lingzi Lu, Krystle Campbell, and Sean Collier, and to honor all those injured that day. Sean Collier’s parents, brothers, and sisters were present, as was Michelle L’Heureux, accompanied by her dad. Some of the survivors, including Adrienne Haslet-Davis, spoke. “The city has stood by us, supported us, and helped us heal,” she said. “It is up to us to make sure that every single second after counts, because believe me, they do.”
Governor Deval Patrick told all those gathered about the photo of Martin Richard carrying his campaign sign. “We’re not strangers. We are in the end, one community,” he said. “We are all connected to each other, to events beyond our control, to a common destiny.”
In the audience, an exhausted Jane Richard was asleep in her mother’s arms. Mayor Marty Walsh, a neighbor of the Richard family, spoke about Jane’s courage and noted that the little girl had recently returned to playing church-league basketball on her prosthetic leg. Recently, she had been fitted for her first “Cheetah” running leg, a gift from an organization called Wiggle Your Toes.
Vice President Joe Biden, who spoke the year before at Sean Collier’s memorial service, reminded those gathered that Boston was not alone. He called the attack at the marathon an attack on America.
“We will never yield, we will never cower. America will never ever, ever stand down,” Biden said. “We are Boston. We are America. We respond, we endure, we overcome, and we own the finish line!”
But it was former mayor Tom Menino who made the greatest impact that day. A month before the bombing anniversary, the newly retired mayor announced that he was being treated for an advanced stage of cancer that had spread to his liver and lymph nodes. Looking frail and aided by a cane, Menino took the podium to a standing ovation from the crowd.
“This day will always be hard. It will never be easy to gather so close to that finish line. It will never be easy to be so close to that place where our lives broke apart,” he said. “We long to be anywhere but here.”
He then paraphrased a line from Ernest Hemingway’s classic novel The Sun Also Rises. “You are strong at this broken place.”
Menino told the survivors that the city would bear responsibility for their welfare in the years to come. “When the lights are dim and cameras go away, know our support for you will never waiver.”
Following the service, the former mayor, Governor Patrick, Vice President Biden, and other dignitaries led survivors down Boylston Street through driving rain to the finish line where they, along with thousands of people watching on television, observed a moment of silence just before 3 p.m. — at the exact time of the first explosion one year before.
Michelle L’Heureux managed to hold it together for the ceremony, but the moment of silence struck a chord deep inside her. Standing on Boylston Street with so many other survivors, in complete silence except for the tolling church bells, she began to cry.
Mery Daniel chose to observe the anniversary at home. She expressed her feelings throughout the day with status updates on her Facebook page, where she wrote, “As I laid on the ground, the only contact I had with reality was the smell. It was the same as the love that awakened me three days later.”
On that deeply personal anniversary, she took to Facebook once again with these thoughts:
Today marks 1 year anniversary of my Rebirth … Happy Birthday to me … 1 year ago I woke up and heard the unspeakable … much to my surprise, it wasn’t the long incomprehensible speech that I remember rather my reaction to it … I was as calm, serene and peaceful as I have never been … like a mother who has been in labor for years … it was a safe and happy delivery. I cherish the Day for what I thought it meant. I crossed the desert….
That night, a young art student with a history of mental illness set the city on edge when he was caught on video parading down Boylston Street clad in black with two fake pressure cooker bombs. Police seized them and charged the man with possession of a hoax device and other offenses. The man claimed it was a prank, but the stunt didn’t sit well with cops, first responders, or the survivors.
The following Saturday — just two days before the 2014 Boston Marathon — the city organized a 5k race on Boston Common. Dozens of survivors ran in the event, including Michelle, who had put aside her fears and wore a “4.15 Strong” shirt for the occasion. She ran with her boyfriend, her best friend, and her four heroes — the four who worked on her that day inside Marathon Sports. The group stayed together and ran at Michelle’s pace — clocking 11.5-minute miles.
“It looked the same as Marathon Day, so that part was a little weird,” she said of the route. “But running down that road with them all around me felt really good.”
When she crossed the finish line, tears came to her eyes. She squinted hard and blocked out the dark thoughts of that horrible day. Today, she had taken back control.
She posted a picture of herself crossing the finish line on Facebook with these words: “You tried to terrorize us, but you actually united us!! Strong city & strong people!! And I finished a 5k — holy sh*t!!”
Two days later, her words were echoed by Bill Poole as he stood on the familiar ground of Lexington Green where, once again, he would recite the words delivered hundreds of years before by Captain John Parker. Five thousand indomitable Bostonians awoke during the pre-dawn hours to attend the reenactment of the Battle of Lexington on April 21, 2014 — Patriots’ Day.
“We remember those who lost their lives in the Boston Marathon bombing one year ago,” Reverend Peter Boulatta said during his invocation before the reenactment, “those who bear the scars of that thankless act of violence — injuries to the body and soul.”
Moments later, mock shots were fired, reenactors fell on cue, and musket smoke filled the air. Bill Poole surveyed the large crowd and saw a look of reverence and determination in their eyes.
“This is our day, not the terrorists’ day,” he said. “The bombings were an attempt to turn our attention away from our society and our freedoms. The terrorists did not succeed.”
Still, the town of Lexington took precautions, beefing up security for the first time in years. This time, spectators were ordered to keep their belongings in clear or mesh backpacks, and ladders, often used to see over crowds, were outlawed. Police also kept a close eye out for any unattended bags.
There was truly a price to be paid for freedom, and this meant tighter security in Lexington and, of course, at the Boston Marathon, where 36,000 people had registered to run in 2014, a near record. The number of anticipated spectators topped one million, which was twice as many as in 2013. It seemed that everyone wanted to be a part of this historic day for the city of Boston.
Danny Keeler spent the morning of the big race doing what he had done for years: helping to finalize the security plan. This year, there were more than 3,500 cops along the route. The finish line was a fortress patrolled by dozens of bomb-sniffing dogs, uniformed officers, and undercover cops. There were several new video cameras installed in the area. Boston police had also consulted heavily with counterparts in New York City and London to learn how they kept the cities safe for New Year’s Eve in Times Square and the 2012 Summer Olympics. Still, in a free society, the odds favored the terrorists — and they always would.
“We have to get this right 110 percent of the time,” said Keiran Ramsey of the FBI. “The bad guys only have to get lucky once.”
The Boston Police Department changed its patrol strategy for 2014. In prior years, cops would line Boylston Street and look into the crowds toward buildings and the sidewalk. This year, because of the bombings, cops were positioned along the buildings and on the sidewalks and trained to look out at the crowds and toward the street.
It was a tactical move Keeler thought would help cops see the crowds better. As he had done the previous year before the bombin
gs, Keeler spent the morning going over security plans, deploying officers, and patrolling Boylston himself.
Boston cop Javier Pagan was back on duty for the marathon and was assigned to the Back Bay. He wasn’t at his usual post near the finish line; instead, he was assigned to patrol at the corner of Newbury and Dartmouth streets. It was some distance from the finish line, but it was still close enough that throughout the day Javier thought about the horror he had witnessed that day a year earlier. This day, his captain told him and his fellow officers to beware of copycats or people looking to grab the spotlight with a dangerous prank.
“I liked the fact that I wasn’t at the finish line,” he said. “Even though I was just up the street from it, it was more relaxed. Still, we were all on high alert.”
Police had set up security checkpoints at the top and bottom of Boylston Street and at every side street in between. Bags were checked and given a yellow sticker that read: Inspected.
After the murder of Martin Richard and the injuries to his sister, Jane, many wondered if parents would keep their children away from the race — and even whether the marathon would be a family-friendly event ever again. Those concerns were alleviated by the site of throngs of moms and dads pushing strollers and holding hands with their young children along the finish line. Danny Keeler smiled as he watched the parade of families go by. Pure Americana, he thought to himself.
“It completely reinforces the resilience of the city,” Keeler said. “Let’s get back to what it was always about: a family day celebrating these athletes.”
Although runners must normally qualify in a previous race in order to run Boston, survivors of the bombings were offered bibs to run in the 2014 Boston Marathon, even if they had never run a marathon before.
Survivor Sabrina Dello Russo — Roseann Sdoia’s best friend — ran her first marathon in her friend’s honor. She raised more than fifty thousand dollars toward Roseann’s recovery fund.
Also running his first marathon was survivor Colton Kilgore, the North Carolina man who celebrated his wife Kimberly’s pregnancy on the trip to France. They were among those injured in the bombings. Nine family members cheered Colton on as he ran, including his five-year-old nephew, Noah, who a year ago had been struck by shrapnel that tore a hole in his leg. Also seriously injured was Colton’s sister-in-law, Rebekah Gregory. Rebekah was among those on the France trip. She had had sixteen surgeries before the trip and walked on crutches and in a cast from her latest procedure throughout the cruise. In June 2014, Rebekah faced the agonizing decision of whether to have her injured leg amputated. At that point, she couldn’t put weight on the limb, and she was in constant pain. Doctors have told her that the leg will likely never heal properly, and as of August 2014, she was still considering amputation.
Colton ran the race to honor his relatives who were more severely injured than he was. It was his way of paying homage to them. When he crossed the finish line, he wore a broad smile through his trademark thick beard and raised his hands in victory.
“It was nice because now I have this as a memory,” Colton said. “Now, when I think of the Boston Marathon, this will be the first thing I think about — I ran the Boston Marathon.”
Michelle L’Heureux decided to skip the marathon that day. Instead, she spent it at her Quincy home with a close friend, and they watched the race on TV. Her boyfriend, Brian, ran it once again, but Michelle just didn’t want to deal with the anxiety of returning to the finish-line crowds.
But around 4 p.m., after Brian finished the race, she decided to head into Harvard Gardens, a pub near Beacon Hill, to meet up with Brian and some of his runner friends to celebrate their finish. Michelle was supposed to meet the same group at Harvard Gardens the previous year, but she never got there — instead, she was fighting for her life at Faulkner Hospital.
“I didn’t get to go last year,” she said. “I got to celebrate with them like I didn’t last year. I got to celebrate the marathon…. I felt really happy to be in that place that got taken away from me.”
They had dinner and champagne. Just two weeks after the anniversary, Michelle went back to the hospital to have surgery on her ruptured eardrum. And in the summer, she had another reconstructive surgery on her scarred left arm.
Tracy Munro had been weeping sporadically since the bombing anniversary the week before. Her nerves were frayed, but she went down to the race with her boyfriend and watched from Coolidge Corner, a few miles from the finish line.
“There were some tense moments when I grabbed on to Bryan’s arm in a wave of sheer fear that something bad was going to happen,” she said. “But it didn’t.”
Munro watched as members of Team MR8 passed by on their way to the finish line. Each of the runners received huge cheers along the route in memory of young Martin Richard. An elderly man wearing a New York Yankees jacket and cap, normally considered a sin in the heart of Boston, got a free pass at the finish line because he also wore a necklace with a framed photo of the eight year-old Dorchester boy around his neck with a caption that read: My Hero.
The only loud noise coming from the sidewalk in front of Marathon Sports on this day in 2014 was the thunderous sound of applause as Meb Keflezighi of San Diego took his long final strides down Boylston Street.
“My God, here comes the American,” shouted a voice in the crowd. Spectators could hardly believe their eyes as no American had won the men’s race in more than thirty years.
Thousands of race fans craned their necks to catch a glimpse of Keflezighi as he crossed the finish line. The crowd started chanting, “U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!”
Keflezighi himself had been a face in the Boston Marathon crowd in 2013. He had watched the race but had left about five minutes before the bombs went off.
“When the bomb exploded, every day since I wanted to come back and win it,” he said afterward. “I wanted to win it for the people of Boston. It’s beyond words.”84
Keflezighi dedicated his marathon win to the victims. He pointed to his racing bib. Written along the corners in magic marker were the names Martin, Krystle, Sean, and Lingzi.
AUTHORS’ NOTE
CASEY SHERMAN
As an author, you’re only as good as the stories you write, and the stories we learned about and included in our book will continue to inspire us for years to come. We spent a year working on this book and thousands of hours researching the details and facts surrounding the Boston Marathon bombings. Most of the information we share was told to us firsthand by the men and women who lived it. This book could not have been done without the tremendous courage of Mery Daniel, Michelle L’Heureux, Heather Abbott, Jeff Bauman, Carlos and Melida Arredondo, Alan Starr, Tracy Munro, Bill White, Linda Witt, Colton Kilgore, John Mixon, Jillian Boynton, Sabrina Dello Russo, the Richard family, and so many others.
To the family of Sean Collier, thank you so much for introducing us to your beloved brother and son. I hope we did you proud.
I would also like to thank Governor Deval Patrick for his honesty and leadership, Mayor Tom Menino for his valor, and former Boston Police Commissioner Ed Davis for his guidance. Thanks also go out to Danny Keeler—a true Boston cop if there ever was one—along with Officer Javier Pagan, Larry and Nina Marchese, Bill Poole, and District Attorney Dan Conley.
Thanks to John Dennis and Gerry Callahan for suggesting this project.
A special thanks also goes to Richard Pult, Roger Williams, Dorothy Aufiero, Paul Tamasy, Eric Johnson, George Regan, Tom Cunningham, Corly Cunningham, Lisa Doucet-Albert, B. J. Finnell, John McNeill, and Fisher College, whose students Delia Brimmer, Victoria Guay, and Kaleigh Cordeira worked tirelessly with us on the research for this book. I’d also like to thank Hank and Tricia Lewis and Vantage Deluxe World Travel for a trip that was life changing and life affirming. More information on its great Vantage Heroes Cruise program can be found at vantagetravel.com.
And of course I’d like to thank Laura, Bella, Mia, my mother Diane Dodd, brother Todd F. Sherman, and uncl
e Jim Sherman.
Please donate to One Fund Boston Inc. at PO Box 990009, Boston, MA 02199.
DAVE WEDGE
I would like to recognize and thank (in no particular order) the following people for their hard work, assistance, support, friendship, and kindness: Dot Joyce, Bonnie McGilpin, Governor Deval Patrick, Mayor Thomas M. Menino, Doug “VB” Goudie, Bill Hemmer, Nicole Dow at CNN, Nicole Kieser at Fox 25, Danny Keeler, former Boston Police Commissioner Ed Davis, Boston Police Commissioner Bill Evans, Mayor Marty Walsh, Larry Marchese, Seth Gitell, Suffolk District Attorney Dan Conley, Boston Police Department Officers Andrew Crosby and Javier Pagan, Watertown Police Chief Ed Deveau, The Collier family, Sabrina Dello Russo, Michelle L’Heureux, Phillip Connolly, Brian Chartier, Carlos and Melida Arredondo, Heather Abbott, Jeff Bauman, Krystara Brassard, Colton Kilgore and family, Elaine Driscoll, Bianca De La Garza, Coach Willie Maye, John Cotter, Jamie Orsino, John Cetrino, Boston Fire Commissioner John Hasson, Boston Fire Chief Joe Finn, my many esteemed and hard-working Boston Herald colleagues, Doug Rubin, Megan Johnson, Gayle Fee, Lauren and Dave Falcone, Emma Ratliff, Graham Wilson, Jeff Lawrence, Kerry and Jim Stanton, Delia Brimmer, the Carvalho family, Christopher Cassara, Kevin Hickey, Matthew McMahon, Robert Hynes, J.P. Plunkett, Brian Bennett, retired New York Police Department Officer Christopher Hunt for wisdom and inspiration, and my family: Jessica, Jackson and Danielle, Dad, Nancy, Allyson and the entire Wedge and Cornelius families. Dave also dedicates this book to the memories of Grace Virginia Wedge, Arlene Grace Wedge, Christopher Reagan, and James Earnest Procaccini. Miss you all every day.
NOTES
[2] MURDER IN WALTHAM
1. Bob Hohler, “Waltham Victim’s Girlfriend Says Tsarnaev Visited,” Boston Globe, May 25, 2013.
2. Ibid.
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