I woke up to the sun shining on my face. 6:40 AM, Tuesday morning, Manchester. I checked my phone as something to do before rolling over to go back to sleep, and saw an unread text from my mom and another from my roommate, Kjerstie.
1:14AM Momma: You all ok after the explosions at the arena there? Concerned mom checking in!
5:31AM Kjerstie Olson: You're not anywhere near Manchester are you? Hoping all is well.
Now I was bleary-eyed and confused. What had happened last night to make my family and friends so concerned? Before I could process much more, I fell back asleep.
About 40 minutes later, I woke up again to a knock at the door. My roommate for the night, Alison, opened it and I heard Steve, our program director, asking if we were all accounted for. Alison said that yes, we were, and then I got my first real explanation.
"There was a terrorist attack at a concert last night here in Manchester. Some deaths, many injuries, but our group is all safe and here." He proceeded on to the next door, and I sat up in bed, realizing I really needed to text my mom back.
After quickly sending some texts letting my mom and Kjerstie know I was okay, I began to wonder what had really happened. Thankfully our other roommate Karina was in the know and had actually heard about the bomb the night before.
I sat on my bed and felt a great deal of both sorrow and shock while she explained the situation. A bomb at a concert? If you know me at all, you know that live music is one of the cornerstones of my life, right up there with the gospel and ice cream. It was even more shocking to discover that it was an Ariana Grande concert - which was one I had attended almost exactly 2 months earlier in Salt Lake City.
I felt so sad for this city that I had spent so little time in, but that I had come to appreciate over the last 36 hours I had been there. We had just spent the previous day doing about 5 miles of city walking. A writing assignment from Steve to select three people throughout the day and describe them had only made me much more conscious of the huge variation of lives in this metropolis. My connection to the city felt so real.
Later, when I went downstairs and had Wi-Fi, I looked up how far away the arena was. Just one mile. A little too close to home. My thoughts, however, turned to ones of gratitude - that none of my friends were there, that I wasn't there, that even though we were very close - we were safe.
Overall, I am still hurt by this experience. It's one you always hear about but never think you'll be close to. As potentially scary as it was for me, I can't begin to imagine the horror the victims and their families went through.
During our debriefing tonight, now many miles away on a beautiful Welsh lakeshore, Steve encouraged us to live our lives without fear. Terrorists, as is evident in their name, want to spread terror, to make people give up their normalities in exchange for fear. But we cannot do that. We can and we will continue on as planned - because that is the best way to fight back.
Grateful for safety. Grateful for friends and family. Grateful for Manchester.
No comments:
Post a Comment