Yesterday I had experienced two very stressful hours. This is one of the most intense moments in my life. I was in New York City. Right after 3:00 pm I heard the news that two powerful explosions took place at Boston marathon finish line (Copley) at 2:50 pm. The incident had generated lots of confusions and many injuries with two people killed (now updated to three). Situated on the center of a commercial district, around the iconic Hancock tower and Trinity church, and in the vicinity of Copley public library and JFK library, Copley is a popular spot where Bostonian hangs out with family and friends and where tourists favor. 

Upon seeing the news, I was immediately worried. My daughter was out for her violin lesson at 1:00 PM. The lesson would last for 45 minutes. Usually it takes about an hour for her to get back home. So when the incident happened, I guessed she had been headed home or might have been already home. But when I called her cell phone, what I heard was only an automatic mailbox voice message. I tried home phone but no luck. After a few futile attempts, I had stated to really get worried. The details of the explosions were unfolding and many videos were pouring in the media. I was stunned to see many horrific scenes…chaotic crowds and bloody stains on the floor. The smoke and debris resembled a war zone scene. 

I had kept dialing my daughter’s cell and home phone for more than half an hour. My hands were trembling. No pickup, no answer. Then, inevitably, all sorts of scenarios were playing out in my brain. Did she go to Copley to see the marathon finish? (In the past, we frequently saw the annual marathon event, which is the biggest day in Boston, at Copley or on streets.) Was she present at the scene? Was she injured amid the chaotic and terrified crowds? Yesterday was such a nice day. The whether was sunny and perfect for Boston marathon, one of the most celebrated sport events around the world. And it was a Massachusetts holiday (Patriot’s day). Students were out of school for their spring vacation.

Around 4:00 pm, I still couldn’t get touch with my daughter. I had been overwhelmed and sweating non-stop. My wife at a Boston hospital was also worried. I had by now called everyone who possibly knew my daughter’s whereabouts, including her violin teacher, her friends and their parents. No one had a clue and has had a contact with her since afternoon. I was trying to clam myself down and had re-examined the possibility of an incident of her, but there was not a single minute that I could sit down. I had been keep texting and calling like crazy. Was her phone’s battery dead? Was the cell phone service suspended? Was she injured and thus unable to call? Or did she lose her cell phone in the chaos? All sorts of questions flooded my mind, but not a single one could be answered. I was shouting silently.

At 4:50 pm, my wife had gone crazy. She said she wanted to ask for a leave (of her job) and go onto streets to look for my daughter. This was impossible in a big town like Boston and at a time filled such a large crowds (23,000 marathon participants and over 100,000 spectators), let alone the chaos. I worried that my wife herself might get injured if she had went out. So despite my own urge to go out to look for my daughter (But I was in New York and I wished I could fly. That sense of desperateness as well as helpless drove me so crazy!), I asked her to wait a little longer before going out.

At 5:00, when our hopes had been all but shattered, my cell finally rang and the display showed it was from my home. That was it. She called. She was safe. Suddenly I was inundated with a sense of relief and exhaustion. According to her account, she left her violin lesson at 2:00 pm and went straight to a post office at a major street (which was on the marathon route). But then train was taken out of service (due to the incident). Thus she had to walk all the way home (it was positively over 4 miles). She said her cellphone battery had run out right after her violin lesson (later I learned that many people’s cell phone was out of services in Boston area yesterday).

Boston is a great city where I have been living over ten years. I’m deeply sorry for the loss of precious lives yesterday. I can feel profoundly the pain everyone feels toward his or her beloved ones. But I thank God that my daughter was safe. She is my world. Entire world.