Ten years after he bombed the Boston Marathon with his brother, the lone surviving murderer and one-time pride of Cambridge Rindge and Latin High School continues to decay in federal prison.
His death penalty sentence was upheld by the Supreme Court in 2022. But the editorial board of John Henry’s broadsheet can take comfort in the fact that a ban on federal executions remains in place.
We mention Rolling Stone’s favorite cover boy (never by name) here because the 127th running of the Boston Marathon on Monday is another reminder of just how badly he and his brother failed.
A decade later and the terrorists still lost.
We are big on names here when it comes to the innocent lives lost on Marathon Monday 2013: Martin Richard, Krystle Campbell and Lingzi Lu. Nor can we forget Sean Collier, murdered by the two bombers two nights later. And unlike the producers of “Patriots Day,” we will always include Boston Police Officer Dennis Simmonds in any tribute. He died in April 2014 from head injuries incurred during the manhunt shootout in Watertown.
Their loss should forever be part of both state lore and whatever passes for history these days in schools across the Commonwealth.
To seek balance, we offer this amazing fact: Every one of the 281 injured by the blast who made it to a hospital survived.
Every. Single. One.
Some lost limbs. Or their permanent peace of mind. Yet, two weeks later, nearly 90% of those hospitalized after the bombing had been discharged.
Former MBTA Officer Dic Donohue, a friend of Collier, was shot in the Watertown crossfire and nearly bled to death. His heart stopped for 45 minutes. But his stubbornness won out and he’s still with us, too.
The lives of those who survived may have been shattered by the blast. But they, too, eventually found their “new normal.”
There were marriages, divorces, remarriages, births, and all the other trappings that come with routine life.
The details of that day both real and imagined, were shared across the pages of newspapers and websites around the world. The bombing and subsequent manhunt and lockdown was all you saw on TV for days. It was one of the first major historic news events that spread via social media.
The 2013 Boston Marathon bombing spawned two major Hollywood films, multiple documentaries and docudramas, and seemingly more books than Whitey Bulger and the 1967 Red Sox combined.
It continues to amaze why anyone felt it was necessary to embellish or add fictional twists to what happened. Whether you were at the finish line, writing a movie script, or at home napping on your couch.
We’ve become close to the survivors, too. So many of them were like so many of us. The Marathon was bombed at 2:49 p.m., long after the professional runners were finished. The people crossing the finish line at the 4:09:43 mark pushed themselves for months or years to get in shape for the race and chase a certain time. Often using it as a fundraising tool.
These were regular Janes and Joes being cheered on by so many other Janes and Joes as they pushed themselves up Boylston Street. The only wagers were made on whether your cousin from Reading would finish in under five hours.
Anyone who finishes the Boston Marathon has earned their Participation Trophy.
While the bombers represented humanity at its worst, the bombing’s aftermath brought out humanity at its best.
Immediately, police, first responders, National Guard personnel, and civilians rushed to aid the wounded, without thought or concern that there could be multiple bombs – or worse – waiting to counterattack. Some medical personnel kept running to local hospitals. Doctors, nurses, therapists, physician assistants, and anyone else in scrubs didn’t have time for Tik-Tok videos (there was no Tik-Tok, but you get what we mean). The focus fell on saving lives, limbs and healing souls.
They batted 1.000 when it came to saving lives.
Sports also batted 1.000 in 2013. The Red Sox, Bruins, Celtics and Patriots served as civic glue. While this recollection may not appeal to cynics, it cannot be denied that TD Garden and Fenway Park presented the first two major opportunities for the public to, well, go public after the worst had passed.
The marathon bombing happened on Monday, April 15.
Five days later, all 17,565 gathered at TD Garden for the Bruins-Penguins game paid tribute. The video still delivers chills 10 years later. The crowd finished the national anthem for Rene Rancourt after he got through 13 words.
The Red Sox took the field a few moments later, flanked by multiple first responders and other dignitaries. David Ortiz dropped “The F-Bomb Heard Round The World” and the two were forever fused by history.
In addition to offering a literal public square to prove that life had resumed, the city’s athletes and teams offered their time and treasure to support families of the fallen and those who made it out alive, if not in one piece.
The “Boston Strong” narrative fueled it all.
The Bruins nearly won the Stanley Cup. And after the Red Sox won the World Series, their Rolling Rally came to a stop at the finish line. There Jarod Saltalamacchia and Jonny Gomes offered the World Series trophy that famed “617” jersey as tribute.
The masses couldn’t get enough “Boston Strong” swag. Police were the good guys. Doctors stuck to medicine. People wanted the Red Sox and Bruins to win. Even those on the radio.
A long time ago in a place far, far, away.
But one that can never be remembered enough.
(Bill Speros (@BillSperos & @RealOBF) wrote multiple stories about the bombing and its aftermath for boston.com and the Herald. He can be reached at bsperos1@gmail.com.)