One of the many things I love about Central Park (formerly Stapleton) is that my kids have a wonderful place to grow up, have fun and feel safe. As much as anyone can feel safe these days. My heart goes out to Boston. Unfortunately the safest of all safe can still be frightening. But in the spirit of Americans in Boston, Colorado, throughout the country and around the world – we will not become something we are not due to the cowardice and treachery of sick individuals. We send our love and support to victims of this tragedy. And we tell our loved ones we love them. You can never tell anyone enough. Every moment is precious.
The owner of TJC, Tom Cummings, is from the Boston area. He has many friends there. One of his friends, Keith Cheverie wrote a touching post on his Facebook page that we want to share here too. Words are difficult to express the emotions of people affected by this around the world, but I’d say Keith’s words were more than precious. Read them and hold your head high and heart strong.
“I have nothing new or insightful to add to the discussion of yesterday’s events, but I think just putting your feelings out there can be therapeutic, so here goes…Patriots Day has always been a big day in my family. Even though I grew up in Maine, my family got tickets for the Patriots Day game at Fenway every year and so we would make a complete day of it. After the game, we would make our way to Kenmore Square and watch the runners go by. Back in those days, the marathon started at noon, so you could see the whole Sox game and still see the elite runners go by. We rooted for Bill Rogers and Joan Benoit as they won Boston (before the Kenyans began their domination of the event).
During my 20s, I lived in and around Boston and got season tickets at Fenway as soon as I was out of college. Those years were more about the party that is the Boston Marathon. At the bars when they open at 9am, beers at the Park and then off to the course to provide some rowdy support of the runners. I have never been a runner, but have the utmost respect for anyone that can run 26.2 miles, especially those that do so at paces that I can’t match for 800 yards.
For the past dozen years, I have lived in Hopkinton, near the start of the Marathon. The scene here in Hopkinton is surreal on Patriots Day each year. Our town population essentially triples just when you acccount for the runners, then there are thousands of spectators as well. There is a great sense of pride here about the Marathon and we do our best as a community to be great hosts.
This year we proudly hosted two runners. Caryn’s cousin Pete Mandevilleand his girlfriend Tarra came Saturday night late, joined us for the Red Sox game on Sunday and Monday Pete ran his first Boston Marathon. In addition, our dear friends Kimberly Marcotte and her kids stayed with us along with Kim’s sister Leah, who was running her 2nd Boston Marathon. I’m happy to say that Pete and Leah both completed the marathon, and much more importantly everyone in their family was out of harm’s way before the tragic events unfolded near the finish line.
As a spectator myself, I watched all 27,000 runners pass by about 50 yards after the start line. I did this while hanging with some friends and family, including my 8 year old daughter, Charly. Another family that tried doing the exact same thing with their 8 year old at the other end of the course had their entire world shattered just 4 hours later. I’m not as angry as I usually get about these things. I’m mostly just sad. I’m sad that Pete and Leah had their experience marred by this. I’m sad that Kim’s kids had to witness everything they did last night (they were staying in Copley after the race). I’m sad that I have to reassure my Jordyn that she isn’t going to get blown up on her trip to NYC this week. Mostly I’m sad for the 8 year old boy’s family and all the other victims.
Sorry for the long rambling post. I think I was right about this being therapeutic. I for one am looking forward to cheering on runners again next April, and if any runners need a place to stay in Hopkinton, just let us know.”