What Kind of Day Has it Been

I'm sure a lot of people are talking about the Tragedy at the Boston Marathon today. I would like to add my perspective to the group. I am only doing this because I have been deeply affected by this event and feel that I have a unique perspective.

First off, can we please call this what it is: a terrorist attack. I absolutely understand the aversion to this phrase because "terrorism" has a specific connotation in today's zeitgeist. However, the word "Terrorism" is an accurate descriptor of what occurred today. Let us examine the facts. The goal of terrorism is to promote terror. The explosive devices went off just after the 4 hour mark according to the official marathon clock. 4 hours and about 9 minutes to be exact. the average marathon finish time is 4 hours, according to Runner's World, whom I consider to be an authority on the subject.

That means that the most amount of people will be potential victims. the majority of people will be crossing the finish line at that time, which also means that the most amount of spectators will be waiting for them to finish, i.e. higher victim potential. And while the Boston Athletic Association (BAA) has start times in "waves" to control the running crowds, the runner and spectator numbers are at their peak at this point in the race. If the devices had gone off at 2 hours or really anything sub 3, those are elite runners, which draw crowds, but will have a limited casualty rate. And, I don't know if this is a factor, but many of the elite runners are from other countries, and it is a logical assumption that most of the runners in the about-4-hour range are Americans and their families as spectators.

Why is my perspective special? 

My mom and stepdad ran the marathon today. As did a couple of their friends that I know and several that I don't. And about 23,300 other people.

My Mom and Stepdad.

Take a minute and look at the TOD. TOD is the time of day in military time and "time" is their race or chip time that marks the exact time from when they cross the start to the finish, which will probably differ from official race time. I was on my way down to my dad's, but I waited to leave until I got a notification from the BAA iphone app that Joe had crossed the finish line because my mom had finished 10 minutes earlier. I updated my facebook post so our friends and family could see they finished, and then left for my dad's. That's when I got a text from a friend.

The bomb went off at 2:49pm.

I spent the next hour and a half trying desperately to get ahold of my mom and stepdad. The phone lines were jammed, and even if they weren't, neither carry phones when they run so I needed to wait patiently for them to get to their hotel and access their phones.

Patiently. Ha! My mom was in trouble. I called her about 50-60 times, and probably 10 of those went through, only for me to get kicked to voicemail. If you have ever known someone involved in a terrorist attack or any event like this, you know the stress and drama involved of just wanting to know they're okay. Just wanting to know some information. Something, anything.

So I had the news on at my dad's, searching the crowds for my mom. Trying to will the news to say what time it actually happened other than "just before 3pm" and trying to calculate the exact amount of time it takes to hand in your chip timer, get a medal, and walk away. Wondering if they would wait for another friend to finish, and having no idea. And I am so glad now that I didn't know the exact time.

Because If I had hear it was the exact same time Joe crossed the finish line I would have driven straight up to Boston. I have a friend of a friend's place lined up to stay in and HELL to traffic and everything else, my mom is there. I'm going. And I would have driven until I heard from her.

I did eventually get a call from my mother, at 4:21pm. Joe texted me, and I couldn't actually talk to her until 5:30 this evening. I am so thankful that my mom and Joe are both unharmed.

Then there's this guy:

This Guy

This guy who, by the way, is in the bottom righthand corner or right side of every bomb video being shown is my step-dad, Joe Curcio. The bomb was just ahead of the finish line that Joe crossed at TOD 3:49:52. Chip time 4:08:35

Joe is fine, When I was on the phone with Dolly, my mom, she mentioned that Joe was closer to the explosion and picked a small shard of glass out of his arm. She made sure to point out that it probably won't scar, and there wasn't even any blood. At which point I could hear Joe protesting in the background, "There's blood, look right here!" pointing to an apparently small dot where the shrapnel was. I could practically hear my mom rolling her eyes at his marathon injury. Give the guy a break. He got nearly blown up today. 

But seriously, a lot of people were for-reals hurt. Some were killed and seriously hurt or lost limbs. Some were children. And for the families that waited and waited for news and heard none, only to have their worst fears realized, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This was a terrifying, horrifying and harrowing day with many more to come for you. I wish that there was something I could do other than offer my condolences, prayers and the goodwill of all of the United States today and all days. I pray for strength, understanding, patience, and healing. 

What I hope comes out of this. 

I really truly hope that we remember not only those who were killed, hurt and affected by this tragedy, but also those who helped. Do me a favor. watch this video of the explosion. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Okay. The runners who could kept going, honestly, legit. Get away from the exploding around you. But then watch it again. Watch and pay close attention to those who run towards the bombs. They had NO idea if there would be more. They had NO idea what was happening. They ran towards the explosion.

Thank you.

Really, thank you.

There were race officials, EMTs, Nurses, Police, Bomb dogs, military personnel and volunteers that scrambled to adjust their race plan from dehydration and exhaustion patients to war-scene IED bloody trauma of runners and spectators.

There is a picture floating around facebook right now, it's a Mister Rogers quote.

Who doesn't love Mister Rogers? Communists.

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.'"

I can't stop thinking about the people who ran towards the bombs. That is my definition of Bravery. You are my heroes. You are the reason I keep my faith in humanity. You may not have saved the world, solved global warming, world hunger or cured disease, but you saved someone's world.

You give me faith that there are people in this world to combat the bad with good, not with guns and violence but with love and caring.

~Update, April 16, 2013~

There is one thing that I was thinking about all day and wanted to add to all of this. In the aftermath of this terrorist attack at the Boston Marathon, I want us to Rally. What do I mean by that? I want this weekends Marathons to continue as planned. London and Madrid have both confirmed their marathons will happen.

I want people to not be scared to leave their home, or go to a sporting event. Or Participate in sports. I want children to watch their parents cross a finish line without fearing for their lives.

And I want Boston to come back next year with a vengeance. I want the BAA to be utterly flooded with marathon applications, I want the BAA to be forced to allow more participants. I want the crowds at the start, the finish, and at Heartbreak Hill to be double than what they were this year. I want record-breaking.

In the West Wing episode Isaac and Ishmael, which was the first episode after September 11th attacks, Sam says to a group of high school students "It's 100% failure rate. Not only do terrorists always fail at what they're after, they pretty much always succeed in strengthening whatever it is they're against."

So that's what I want. I want unequivocal proof that whoever did this failed. Let's make it great.

A psalm of comfort.

Psalm 77

For the director of music. For Jeduthun. Of Asaph. A psalm.

I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me.
When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands and my soul refused to be comforted.

I remembered you, O God, and I groaned; I mused, and my spirit grew faint. Selah
You kept my eyes from closing; I was too troubled to speak.
I thought about the former days, the years of long ago;
I remembered my songs in the night. My heart mused and my spirit inquired:

"Will the Lord reject forever? Will he never show his favor again?
Has his unfailing love vanished forever? Has his promise failed for all time?
Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has he in anger withheld his compassion?" Selah

Then I thought, "To this I will appeal: the years of the right hand of the Most High."
I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.
I will meditate on all your works and consider all your mighty deeds.

Your ways, O God, are holy. What god is so great as our God?
You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples.
With your mighty arm you redeemed your people, the descendants of Jacob and Joseph. Selah

The waters saw you, O God, the waters saw you and writhed; the very depths were convulsed.
The clouds poured down water, the skies resounded with thunder; your arrows flashed back and forth.
Your thunder was heard in the whirlwind, your lightning lit up the world; the earth trembled and quaked.
Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen.

You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

That's all for now, I have a lot of work to do for school, I just wanted to get this out.

"Sleepless" 2x04

The third week of school has begun and it feels so unreal. Like all of life is trivial. It's well past 3am and I think it's only fitting that the X-Files episode "Sleepless" is on. " I want to believe. But I need a place to start." (boo Krychek having my favourite line, but it's before he was RatBoy) in other news, I just finished my Bio for the monologues, (almost) and I've just been really, for lack of a better word, pissy, all day. I was miserable in my classes, and my coffee was just not cutting it today, although the Kenya AA is my favourite. I had to fix the stupid mistake I made with my rent money deposit, I have a friggin TON of reading to do, and I'm not a fan of journal articles or reviews, but that's what you get for studying political science. I just need some sleep I suppose, but all of this stress has to go away. I can't sleep with all this noise.

I did a good deal of thinking (shock-face) yesterday and I was thinking about a proper way to memorialize someone. Is simply thinking about them enough? Or is it living as they did? Finally taking that advice they gave you years ago, or actual emulation whether of self or specific ideals? I also looked back on the many (MANY) people that I have lost in the past few years. (I'm up to eight since 2000) But there are very few, two, in fact, who touched my life in a real sense. These are people who have changed not only who I am as a person, but how I view myself, my personal outlook on life, and the window through which I view others. My Aunt Mary who passed away in April 2000 when she was 47, she had been fighting breast cancer for a long time though, and she was one of the strongest people that I have ever been privileged to know. And Jared Hess whose ten month battle with AML Leukemia ended this Friday, 25 January 2008 as I mentioned below, Sunday would have been his 30^th birthday. Jared's faith throughout this ordeal has been absolutely inspiring and at the same time, utterly tragic.

Aunt Mary is one of my heroines, one of the many people to whom I aspire to be like, very few are lifted to "Hero" status. She never lost hope, she was always kind and gentle, and even to the last was telling those around her that she would be fine. There are some random awkward moments that I remember of her as a child and it saddens me to realize that my memories of her are slowly fading. I remember visiting her in the hospital on the day that she died. She was so tiny and frail in that bed, but when she saw us she just lit up, she was smiling and hugging and talking like nothing was wrong, like not a day had passed. In all of the memories that I have of her she was smiling, and in the later years with her trademark hat. Christmas was always there with her and the whole family (there's a lot of us) would be there (seriously, a lot) She was always beautiful, always just being herself. Whenever I think of her I think kindness, caring, and love. I think that that's how she would want to be remembered.

Jared and Anne have both become heroes of mine, for their unwavering Faith. With everything that they've gone through and how young he was and Anne having those two sweet little boys at home, to still have that Faith that God will carry you through. I don't think that even they realize how strong they are. For Jared to be forced to come to terms and deal with his own death and mortality, and talk about the joy that he's had, how full his life was, and to not be consumed by hopelessness, but by Hope itself. And for Anne, whom I pray for every day, to lose the love of her life and talk about how he lives on in their boys, how he is now with God. How she can look back with love and see how God has worked in her life and their life together. And yes, I can say he's no longer in any pain, but he's not Here, with her. I couldn't deal with that, how does one even begin? "Great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me." When I think of Jared I always feel like singing. Singing songs of Praise and songs of Faith. With his blog it's as if everyone was personally and deeply involved with every step of this process. Living with him the joys of health and the pains of defeat, of hunger for a good PB&J, and for relief from the fever and pain. But through it all, Jared had this absolute unwavering Faith and trust in the Lord. One of the things that always made him happy was reading scripture that people sent him.

I figured that the best way to memorialize these people that affected me in such a profound way was to actually take parts of the ways that they lived and emulate that, and that would remind me of them and allow me to live in memory of them, and have them go on through me. Jared didn't believe in putting anything in our bodies like caffeine (gasp) or even advil. I quickly discovered that I can not give up coffee, so I decided to give up drinking. And it's not that I drink a lot, but it's not doing anything positive for me, so what's left is the negative. This is also kind of sad because I just bought a good deal of a cabernet-sauvignon for formal. And for Aunt Mary, I just want to live my life how I think she would have.

Be kinder, more forgiving, less judgmental, more caring. Living Faithfully, living with love for people, love for God, being peaceful, giving praise.

Song for the post:

Anointing, fall on me Anointing, fall on me Let the power of the holy ghost fall on me Anointing, fall on me

Touch my hands my mouth and my heart Fill my life Lord, every part Let the power of the holy ghost fall on me Anointing, fall on me

Let the power of the holy ghost fall on me Anointing, fall on me Anointing, fall on me

The Substance of Things Hoped For....

Sunday:

So, my fault. I didn't check the blog before I left for Philly and I wasn't even going to go, but something was just telling me to go home. And then I was (well, Brandon and I were..) babysitting Joe's daughter's babies. They're twins, and three months old, and it was for almost 8 hours. I was exhausted and I wanted to go home and pass out but Megan wanted me to go out and I was just pissy and frustrated and I went out and then by the time we got home it was like after 1am, so I wasn't going to go to church, that, and Brandon was there, and my mom had someone seeing the house (potential buyer!!) so we had to clean, but you know when you get that feeling like you HAVE to do something?

Jared, this guy at my church, he was diagnosed with Leukemia in May of 07, ten months ago. He's always been really healthy, in shape, eats right and all that, so it was a total shock. He and his wife Anne have this great little boy Caleb who just turned two last month, and a new baby, Noah, who was born in October. Well, Jared hasn't been doing to well, he has a blog on this amazing site caringbridge.org and it's been really trying for everyone who reads it because of all the ups and downs and near remissions. Jared went home for hospice care last week and he passed away on Friday.

Well, Brandon and I went to ocmc today and I found out about Jared there and started crying in church and I felt like a jackass.

But Anne and her mom, Caleb, Noah, and Jared's parents were all in church today. It's not just in the caringbridge blog, Anne seems to be holding up extraordinarily well. I think that about halfway through Len's sermon (which was mostly about Jared) I realized that I wasn't crying for Jared but for Anne. Amanda is right, I would be pissed at God. How dare He! How can she be so eloquent and positive when she now has two little boys to raise without their father? How dare He leave Caleb and Noah to not be old enough to even remember their dad. How dare he take Jared so young. It's not fair. It's just not fair. I couldn't deal with it.

The amazing strength that both Jared and Anne have shown in the past 10 months has been awe-inspiring, to me at least. I am in absolute awe of how they both (Jared especially) have taken this in stride. I just- I couldn't do it. Maybe I just don't yet have that amount of Faith in God. and the Faith to trust that He knows what He's doing. It's just hard to think that there is a plan for each of us when you see, first-hand, the pain that the nicest people go through.

Anyway- today would have been Jared's 30th birthday. Pastor Len said that he's probably up with the Lord in one big party. I bet he's wearing a cone birthday hat. That would be just like him.

Pilot, Season One.

Hi there everyone. Everyone= The Blogging world, not the two (maybe three) people who will ever read this.

First: a little bit about me. I'm Jane. (Hey girl hey!) I am a student of Political Science at Shippensburg University in bumblefuck PA. I live with my friend Beth and our cats, Leona and Churchill. And another girl lives here too. I have a fabulous boyfriend, who is one of the three people reading this so, Hi Huney! I like to buy purses and I make jewelry, it's not really nice stuff, but I like it. I think "blog" is a silly word. So is spatula. I attend Oxford Circle Mennonite Church when I am home and I kind of wander when I'm at school. Two years and you think I could find a church by now. I also take Tae Kwon Do, which is really fun, I like to feel tough, but in sparring I'm a total wimp.

Anyway- Enough about me (there'll be more of that to follow) This blog is really just going to be a way for me to reflect back on myself as I grow as a person, a student, and try to grow in Faith. 

The title of said blog refers to a West Wing episode, (in season four) "Evidence of Things Not Seen” in which CJ has one of my favourite lines: ”Because I've got Faith mi compadre- That's the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen.” And that's what I hope to be. It's the goal, the outcome. Faithful. One who is full of Faith. True, realistic, authentic.

We'll see.

Song of the moment: Tidal Waves, Matt Duke