May 10, 2008, Another Day in Boston, just the facts.
To mark the second anniversary of the murder of her youngest son, a vigil was held.
We, the community, the families, his friends, grandparents and children, were joined by politicians and media and police about a hundred in all.
Gathering at the spot where he fell.
We listened in silence as she spoke into a megaphone, of coming to this country, to this community, to this neighborhood, of buying a home, of bearing four children, of watching them grow with friends all around.
We listened from open windows and over fences as she spoke of the birth of her youngest, of his passions and promise. She spoke to the youngest children and to the hooded teens of the pain of her loss and the joys that they give her.
She spoke of the pain of the wounded and scared survivors; she spoke to their fears and their anger as she spoke of forgiveness and hope.
She spoke to the shooter, wherever he was, of his anger and pain.
Then she forgave him.
In public,
Out loud.
She spoke of her eldest, the first son she lost. She spoke of her neighbor, his killer, of watching them grow; she spoke of visiting his mother when they were all young. She spoke directly to Nardo.
Forgave him
In Public
Out Loud.
We lit candles and listened
As other mother's spoke of their murdered children,
Of the pain that they live with
Yet they spoke to the children, the teens, of their fears and their promise,
They said that Life Matters
They said that they care
And they spoke of forgiveness
In Public
Out Loud
We lit candles and listened
As Steve took the mic and spoke of his brothers and the nights that they died.
He pointed left, to a doorway; it was there that Matthew lay bleeding when he was first on the scene.
He told of the police cruisers blocking the street, told of telling them to move it back, keep the street clear, to leave way for the ambulance that is sure to arrive.
Told of the questions and threats of arrest in his grief,
He pointed right, to the streetlamp, it was there that the ambulance stopped, it was there that they carried his brother, bleeding but breathing as precious seconds turned to precious minutes as his life slipped away
He told of his panic and anger as authorities debated whether he could ride in the ambulance or should be left behind.
He described the direct route to the hospital; the way blocked by the crowd, described the alternate route, the way the ambulance did not go.
Described stopping in traffic and hearing the pain, of asking is everything medical being done?
He told of his brothers screams, not human now, more like the squeal of a pig, of a man writhing in pain and he told of the silence when he knew that he'd gone.
Then he spoke of his loneliness
In Public
Out Loud
We cried and burned candles and listened
Then councilor Yancy stepped up and spoke
He looked us at all on the street there off Dudley
And asked us to turn to a stranger
To look in their eyes
Then tell them what we all need to hear,
I Love You
And we did
Strangers told strangers
I love you
On the street
Here in Boston
In Public
Out Loud
Then we walked around the corner for one more goodbye
Candles aloft the mother sang
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine…..
And the children sang
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine….
---------------------------------------------------------------
If you would like to keep these lights shining please visit www.bmpl.org you can make a secure online donation there…. Thanks