Rejecting Fear: Yes, I’m Still Riding

-

April used to be known for spring showers bringing May flowers. 

But April has a checkered past.  T.S. Eliot called it the cruelest month.  He had his reasons, as do we.  When one does a quick tally of some of the tragedies and environmental disasters, precipitated by the hand of man, which have occurred in April just over the last 150 hundred years -

April 14, 1865:  Abraham Lincoln assassinated
April 15, 1912:  Titanic sinks in the North Atlantic, killing over 1,500
April 16, 1947:  nearly 600 die in Texas City, TX when a tanker full of ammonium nitrate (used in fertilizer) detonates causing a chain reaction of explosions in nearby ships and oil refineries
 April 26, 1986:  Chernobyl nuclear meltdown results in untold deaths from radiation exposure and environmental devastation
April 19, 1993:  Waco shootout
April 19, 1995:  Oklahoma City bombing, 168 killed including children
April 20, 1999:  Columbine High School shootings leave 12 students and a teacher dead
April 16, 2007:  Virginia Tech Shootings, the worst in American history, end with 32 students and teachers dead
April 20, 2010:  BP Golf of Mexico oil spill, 11 dead from the explosion and the Gulf and environs befouled for decades
April 15, 2013: Boston Marathon bombing by the immigrant brothers Tsarnaev end in 3 dead and nearly 200 maimed
April 17, 2013:  West, TX fertilizer plant explosion levels a town and kills dozens

- it would seem that April inspires not only flowers to bloom, trees to blossom, birds to sing, and boys and girls to flirt.  The lengthening days also seems to give light to weaknesses, to the dark side.

As the days grow brighter and longer, while the rest of the world is regaling in the sunshine, falling in love, spring cleaning, nesting, planting gardens, the unhappy and unhealthy amongst us seem to grow darker and more agitated.  It’s a mystery, this paradox.  We’ve had an ugly dose of it this year.  And yet … something was different.

On Patriots’ Day – the 3rd Monday of April, commemorating “the shot heard round the world,” the first armed conflict of the American Revolution at the Battles of Lexington and Concord – Boston hosts its world famous Marathon.  Long before they became commercialized and codified in every city around the globe, long before everyone ran for ego and “bucket list” bragging rights, Boston’s marathon has had it own panache and special significance, a psyche all it’s own, infused with the folklore and mythology of the local holiday date it shares.  There’s just something about running in Boston … Even the most seasoned runner has his/her mettle tested, a story of doubt and trepidation and hopefully triumph at the approach of Heartbreak Hill at Mile 20 -

Everyone wants to run in Boston.  I can’t explain it, but I get it. As a college student, I began running in Boston.  Mile after mile after mile.  There’s a mysterious drive to run through Back Bay, to the Commons, through downtown, along the Charles, over the bridges, into Cambridge. To Fenway, the Green Monster!  Exploring downtown, the harbor, Haymarket, the North End, Southie and other iconic Beantown neighborhoods on foot. 


In this town of serious sports fans, has Boston’s signature sporting event been permanently tainted by the blemish of hatred and fear?  Will the bombing leave an indelible bloody stain on the city’s time-honored tradition?   Will it compel people to stay home, out of the race and/or the spectators’ areas?  Not only in Boston, not only at sports events, but at any major crowd-drawing events – concerts, parks, beaches, midday in midtown, rush hour commuting, etc.?  Will it allow for further erosion of our civil rights, the cornerstones of our democracy born at the time of the 1st Patriots’ Day?

Friends and family have asked me if I'm concerned about riding in the 5-Boro Bike Tour this weekend (I'm riding with Team CMT to raise money for a friend's charity, the Hereditary Neuropathy Foundation), if it's safe.  The real issue here for me is:  do we choose to live in fear - of the next attack, of “the other”, of what could happen next – or do we find a way to somehow rise above, to embrace life and its risks?

I hope this latest attack doesn’t inspire a knee-jerk reaction – revenge, fear, anger, prejudice, arrogant patriotism - similar to 9/11.  After the initial shock, hurt and disappointment, what I think about most after this heart-shattering event is not the carnage, the sadness, the anger, the questions, the explanations, even the arrests. I remember the footage of people running into site of the blast looking to help.  Hearing the stories of runners, exhausted from just having completed 26 miles at full capacity, continuing on another 2 miles to the nearest hospital to donate blood.  Of the victims who lost limbs, who awake from surgeries and comas thrilled to be alive.  Of the short but sweet life of the young victims who died, and the difference they made to all who knew them in the brief time they graced the planet.  Of Boston University, my alma mater, starting the Memorial Scholarship Fund honoring one of the 3 victims, grad student Lu Lingzi, which has already raised over $700,000.**  Of Fairway’s offer, at the checkout counter, to match your donation of $1, $3 or $5 to support treatment and healing of those injured in the blast.

And of my friend Nathan, who was there, and his observations of the event that he posted on Facebook:  “What happened at the race today was indeed tragic and I cannot wrap my head around what would possess someone to do such a thing.  But ya know what also happened at the race?  Thousands of people raised thousands of dollars for incredible causes.  I saw people running for charities, pushing through fatigue, I saw so many disabled people running and it seemed that everyone was running for someone/something they love and support. And that is the kind of human spirit that can overcome anything …”*

This is who we are.  Not a few bad apples who wreak havoc and aim to spoil life for the rest of us.  Not a knee-jerk reaction to run and hide, cower in lockdown, exact revenge.  But rather a force of hope endeavoring to thrive, to transcend our "reality", to overcome physical limitations, to dedicate our own strength and time and effort to help those in need of it.  

 Despite some embarrassing gaffes, even the media seemed to show some sensitivity and restraint, focusing equal time on the strength and beauty of humanity, rather than its surprising capacity for hate and destruction.  And that’s what I choose to take away from this sad day in the sad month of April. That’s what I’ll bring Sunday as I join the other bikers riding in honor of a friend, for a charity, for a cause near and dear - for the sheer joy of riding on city streets free of car traffic! – in the 5-Boro Bike Tour.  Bye-bye, cruel April; hello, gentle May.  Have we turned a corner?  I think so.  So look for me as I turn many corners in Manhattan, the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn and Staten Island on my bike this Sunday, riding with Allison, Valerie and friends, to raise money for Allison’s Hereditary Neuropathy Foundation.

*Nathan Chang, via Facebook - April 2013
 **BU Today, Campus Life:  BU Scholarship to Honor Lu Lingzi, April 2013

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Year of Living Sabbatically, Part 2: 2024 Italia!

-
Life with Professore:   Year of Living Sabbatically, Part 2 Follow Our Voyages on Polarsteps: https://www.polarsteps.com/TessAndThomasOnSabbatical/14205860-the-year-of-living-sabbatically-part-2 Italia! Waking up to the sound of church bells.  Near our Tuscan palazzo they ring at 7:00am, as they did near our guest house in Riomaggiore; in Venezia, outside our window at 7:30am.  No need for an alarm clock.  I soon started telling time according to the number church bell chimes. Been eating cheese.  Lots of cheese.  And I don’t like cheese.  I frequently find it, well, offensive.  Stinky.  Here, it’s somehow not.  But it is delicious. Been eating pasta.  Several times a week, like at Nanny’s house on Greenport Road ages ago when it was still called macaroni.  Pasta was banished from my diet when I started seriously caring about my weight in the early 1980’s:  too many empty carbs....
Read more

The Year of Living Sabbatically, Part 3: Lisbon to Cape Town on Regent’s Splendor

-
Follow Our Voyages on Polarsteps: https://www.polarsteps.com/TessAndThomasOnSabbatical/14888775-the-year-of-living-sabbatically-part-3 This 3-week voyage down the western coast of Africa disturbed me.     It moved me.     It upset me.     It challenged me.     It shocked me.     It shook me.     It humbled me.     It tested me.     It saddened me.     It inspired me.     It enlightend me.       This 3-week voyage down the western coast of Africa changed me.     But first, we land in one of Europe’s hottest, coolest, hippest, most diverse cities – Lisboa!   Lisbon Saturday Arrived around 9pm on a warm and raucous Saturday night. Our hotel, in a residential Chiado neighborhood sandwiched between the riverfront and the main shopping area, is in an old historic non-elevator building.  We need to carry our many big and heavy bags (remember, we’re tr...
Read more

State of Grace

-
  (It’s the 2020 Holiday Season, and the 1 st anniversary of my beautiful, spirited mother’s passing is fast approaching.     For me, the   annus horribilis  that is 2020 began last mid December, when my siblings and I received “the call” summoning us to drop everything and jump on the next flight to southwestern Florida.     My mother had been rushed yet again to the hospital and was “not doing well.”     Shortly after her death I began to write of the profound and painful experience as her Medical Proxy, of having to make difficult medical and healthcare choices, of being responsible for life and death decisions of my most important family member.  At the time I considered it a burden, a painful and beautiful and awesome but crushing responsibility.  In hindsight, after so many months into the coronavirus pandemic, I now understand that as well as an enormous responsibility, it was indeed a privilege. An honor....
Read more