So on that warm spring day in 2005, I toed the line and carried my camera (yes, even back then) and snapped some photos on the trip from Hopkinton to Boston. A few times a year, I think about some of the photos I took that day, but I hadn't actually looked at them for a number of years - until Monday, after the bombings.
What I see in the photos from that day - more so now than ever - is a community in celebration stretching the full 26.2 miles, and it comes to a head on that final stretch down Boylston Street, where five deep crowds and their roar push the mid-packers and leaders alike to the finish. It's like nothing else I've experienced in sport, really.
I know I can't really add anything to the discussions of the past few days that hasn't been said. I simply wanted to share the photos from my experience that seemed to capture the spirit of the Boston Marathon - a spirit that no event, however tragic - will ever suppress.
|Getting close to the Newton Hills|
|Baby on board|
|Spectators the full length|
|One for the road|