If you’ve never been to Boston for Patriots Day or Marathon Monday, as it is also known, let me tell you what it’s like. I was in the city for the Sox game in 2005, and lived in the city for years after that.
Patriots Day is a breath of sunshine after a long winter. It’s the smell of the first barbecue of the year. It’s like a bottle of cold water on a hot summer day. It begins a season of hope, as the Red Sox start out the season; Fenway Park awash in red and blue above a sea of green.
It’s a season of hope, a field of dreams you might allow me to say.
Everyone is positive and you can feel the excitement across the city, across the state starting at the start line in Hopkinton. As a child, my mum would take me and my BFF and my sister to spectate and cheer the runners. As an adult, I’d watch the finishers head into the city from Kenmore and Copley.
It’s a day of celebration; of friendship, of runners, of baseball, of spring. It’s a day to remember those who came long before us, to fight for freedom and justice.
And now it is something more. It’s a day to run (or walk) because you can and for those who cannot. It’s a day to stand up to terror and anger and hatred. It’s a day to remember freedom. It’s now a day to love and to mourn.
I’d imagine the 2014 Boston Marathon will be a very special one indeed. Because we will not stand for this in our cities and towns. We will rail against those who are against freedom. And we will prevail.