Patriots Day is always the 3rd Monday in April. It celebrates the Battle of Lexington and Concord, which occured on April 19th, 1776 and was the start of the Revolutionary War. In Boston, we take a lot of pride in our Revolutionary beginnings, and Patriots Day is a big deal with full blown re-enactments of the Battle, always a home game at Fenway (which makes for nightmare traffic, but then the fans all empty out and travel two block to the Marathon route to cheer)and a day off of school and work (for most) throughout the state.
More importantly, we don't usually call it "Patriots Day". We call it "Marathon Monday". The 3rd Monday in April is also when the Boston Marathon is run. Now, I freely admit that I have never actually been a spectator at a marathon other than the Boston Marathon, but from what I have seen in my last 13 years of watching every single years, and from what I have heard from others - Boston really knows how to do it. It is a HUGE party. With almost everyone off from school and work, you watch the marathon. Everyone does. The runners start in Hopkinton, and while it can be quiet for a while out in the 'burbs, all the Wellesley students come out en masse, and the crowds "help" the runners up Heartbreak Hill. Once they hit Brookline, where we live, both sides of the street are covered with screaming, clapping, cheering, waving spectators. We live at mile 23.5. Once the runners turn onto Boylston Street at mile 26, the spectators are 10 deep and the roar of the cheering is like a hurricane. What is particularly neat about the party atmosphere of Marathon viewing here is that the crowd keeps building and building through the day. Sure, we like to see the elite runners come through, but an hour or so later, when Beacon Street is crowded with your average runner who you know trained so hard and suffered so much to be there, THAT is what the crowd comes to see. When the elite come through by our house it is still pretty easy to find a spot to wedge in the front of the crowd. An hour later? Forget about it. All up and down the street people are grilling, bands are playing, people are blasting the music from "Chariots of Fire". It is a great day to be in Boston.
I've taken Henry to watch the Marathon every year since he has been born - the route is only a block from our house, and the area we live is a great spot for fun crowds. Henry has always loved watching - he used to sit in his stroller and madly clap, even though he had no idea what everyone was clapping for.
This year was no different. Henry is off school for the week, and our regular sitter was here to watch Elliot. Henry and I had an early lunch, then found a good spot on Beacon to watch the elite runners come through:
After a while, we left the route to go play at a local playground for a bit:
Before taking a slow walk home back up Beacon, watching the runners as we went.
We got home at about 2:45 to pick up Elliot. At 2:53 I got a text from Mike to check the news and see if something bad was happening with the Marathon. He works about a block and a half from the finish line, and had just heard and felt two very large explosions.
We are so thankful that everyone we know either affiliated with the Marathon, running the Marathon, or watching was unhurt. It is terrifying to think that Mike was so close to what happened, that the 2nd explosion happened in a spot I have watched the Marathon before, and that I had been considering bringing Henry to the finish line to watch soon now that he is getting older. It is devastating that a day of so much pride, joy, and strength has now been marred in such a way. Boston is our adopted town, but it is our sons' hometown, and we love it deeply. However, make no mistake that we are not afraid, and next year we WILL be there cheering the runners again on with all our hearts.
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