On Monday afternoon, I arrived home, happy and feelin’ good after a hike on Bear Mountain; it was a normal day, like every other day.

I plopped on the couch, crossed one foot over the other to rest them on my coffee table. And much like many people don’t remember exactly what they were thinking about before they found out about the Newtown shootings or Aurora, I don’t remember exactly what I was thinking about just before my phone’s NYTimes breaking news notification went off.

It took about 30 seconds for the news to register: “Two Explosions Reported at Boston Marathon Finish Line.”

Confused, I hopped on my laptop to check various news sources. They all gave me the same grotesque facts; two explosions had occurred at the Boston Marathon’s finish line; people were hurt and news didn’t know how many. Images of people with missing limbs and bloody sidewalks started to flood the Internet.

The thought of a real terrorist attack happening in Boston – Boston, my second home –  sent shock waves through my central nervous system.

Over the past few summers, I’ve worked in the city, often passing the explosion site on Boylston Street. It’s just across from the Boston Public Library, where I’ve spent hours in the stack exploring my interests. It’s right near Lolita Cocina and Tequila Bar,  where a favorite bartender has spoiled my friends and me with free drinks.

Memories started to rush into my head as I sat stunned, like millions of Americans, eyes glued to the screen, watching horrifying footage of the explosions again and again. All afternoon Monday, into the evening and until the very evening I’m spending editing this, the news has kept progressing about the story, and the injury count has risen from 23 to 45 to 80 to 120 to 183.

It was surreal. It is surreal. And one of the most surreal aspects of this tragedy, is the thought that anyone would attack my home.

And once again, a horrible idea starts sinking into the American psyche: everyone is vulnerable to evil. An 8-year-old boy, Martin Richard, died because he showed up to cheer on the runners. His younger sister lost a leg and his mother is suffering from brain injuries from the blasts. When good people, like this family are harmed, their losses clearly illustrate how the victims of tragedies are so randomly, unfairly selected.

Even though emotions are still high, can we put this attack in perspective? There are some places in the world that experience these kinds of attacks every day. To some people, terrorism is a part of the daily routine. For them, there is no relaxtion. They are always on edge, waiting for the next attack to come.

Life is different in the United States. For our culture to have seldom attacks is an unbelievable blessing. However, the true blessing is the response of the American people to these horrific events when they do happen.

Stephen Colbert, who can use his humor to lighten up almost any disastrous event, summed it up eloquently: “And here’s what these cowards don’t get. They attacked the Boston Marathon, an event where people run 26 miles on their day off until their nipples are raw – for fun. And after those bombs went off, there were runners who kept running for another two miles to the hospital to donate blood. So here’s what I know: these maniacs may have tried to make life bad for the people of Boston, but all they ever could do is show how good those people are.”

I understand these attacks are scary and deflating, but we should still be encouraged by the overwhelming support Boston has received in the aftermath of the attack. Immediately after the bombs exploded, thousands of people instantly jumped into action to help the injured. The city has received an astonishing amount of support from people across the nation, a comforting reminder that there are always people who are willing to heal the wounds that terrorism causes. One thing is sure: when tragedy befalls the American people, they always come together stronger and better than before.

Evan Hutton is a Collegian columnist. He can be reached at [email protected].