Hitting Home

I’m from Boston. Over the years, I lived in two apartments within a stone’s throw of Monday’s bombings. Over the years, I stood and cheered marathon runners countless times. I know every square inch of the area in all the pictures, which is hardly unusual. It’s the center of Boston. My nephew was around the corner when the explosions went off.

This week’s terror hit home for me.

And what to do? That is always the question.

Do you stop going to sporting events? Cultural events? Outdoor rallies?

I was raped around the corner from where the bombs hit. I did not stop going out, didn’t quit my job...