Remember Martin

Since we got the news about the bombing in Boston near the finish line of the Boston Marathon yesterday, one image has been on the mind: The image of a little boy who was on hand to watch his Dad complete the race.

The boy’s name was Martin.

I didn’t know Martin or his family, but the reports I have read indicate that he was a good kid. He loved his Dad and proudly held up a sign for his Dad to read near the end of the grueling distance classic.

Then Martin’s life ended. He was killed by the blast that killed two others and injured lots more. Martin’s sister was horribly wounded and Martin’s mother was also badly hurt.

We don’t know yet what cowards gutlessly blew up bombs in Boston yesterday, but we will find out. We don’t know why these idiots attacked a joyful American tradition, but we will know eventually. We don’t know how much planning they did or how far away they stood when the explosions began, but we Americans always eventually get this stuff figured out and we’ll do it this time, too.

Once upon a time, Americans shouted that we should remember Pearl Harbor. This time, when Mother Freedom drops the hammer on the murderers we now seek, I hope we remember Martin and his family.

 

         To the families and friends of those hurt or just frightened by what happened in Boston, I can only wish you a peaceful healing time. Please know that your neighbors across the nation are with you.