It was a personal attack on Boston at its civic heart. And I took it personally.
There are some hideous images of the injured out on the Web, stories of bystanders carrying to safety people who’d lost limbs.
But the image burned into my mind was a photo taken after the area was cleared, a simple shot of bloodstains left behind on Boylston Street.
Blood outside Abe & Louie’s, where I take my out-of-town guests. Blood down the street from Towne, where I go for great bloody marys. Around the corner from my friend Sally who cuts hair at G2O Spa.
These are my places, under attack and spattered with blood. My friends, put in direct danger.
Yesterday morning, Boston was my address. It was the place I lived and worked.
Today, it’s my town.