Pulling to the Side

I heard the unmistakable sound of frantic wails beneath a flash of red lights. I did what we do.

I pulled over.

Sitting there, on the side of the road, I watched as the ambulance and fire engine parted the heavy traffic like Moses with the Red Sea. No matter how they'd jockeyed for position moments before, now all drivers were united in getting out of the way.

Why?

Yes, I realize it's the law. But so is coming to a complete stop and not exceeding the speed limit. Yet we all break those laws at some time or the other.

But we don't break this one.

I've driven for over twenty years in rural and urban locations and whether I'm on a freeway in LA or a nearly empty road in the country, everyone always moves to the side of the road.

I wonder if we all have the same thought...this could be for our friend, our neighbor, our brother, our sister, our child, our parent, our husband, our wife.

I wonder if we see these emergency vehicles screaming our way and feel the urge to help someone in trouble in some small way even if it's only to get out of their oncoming path.

I'd like to think it's the later, that we all sit in our cars for that brief pause and think - even if it's a fleeting thought - Hurry! Go faster. I'll stay put. My lunch is not nearly as important as what you're about to do.

I think, in some way, it's what we all think when we witness a tragic event, even if it's from a distance. Our first reaction is shock. Then comes horror. Then we search for ways to help. It's honestly what gives me the most hope that people, generally, are good.

I started a post about Boston a week ago. It was conceived in a haze of Robitussin and lack of sleep. I let it sit in my drafts as blog after blog, article after article saturated the internet. I didn't want to be a drop in a sea of vocal outcry. So I sat on it.

Now, things have calmed a bit. I can pull it out, look at it and say, yes. I'm proud of Boston, a city I fell in love with last fall.

I've been charmed by her people for quite some time.

I've been intrigued and fascinated by the idea of the North Easterner personalities. From the tomato adding Rhode Islanders to the helmetless motorcycle riders of New Hampshire to the "r" dropping officer while I was crossing the street outside Mike's to the smiling brewer and my understanding hosts, I can't help but adore them. Their Blue Laws boggle, their use of wicked strikes a chord of envy, and their stoic acceptance of snow in April combined to a heady mixture of otherness.

And they adored me right back.

When I saw the damage the bombs had wrought on that fair city, a city with saucy statues and history steeped into its cobblestone streets, I cried.

But I always knew Boston would be okay. It's a country that spawned a Revolution. Of course it would be okay.

And, from what I've seen it is.

Thanks to all the people who pulled to the side of the road and who continue to pull to the side of the road.