East Cambridge Fire

117th Boston Marathon - A Day of Tragedy

(All images © Leona Merk, All rights reserved)

Shot from the corner of Exeter and Boylston Street, 130 ft west of the first explosion.

Family rushes with other spectators away from the grandstands, up Exeter Street.

Race official directs crowd towards a safer location, away from the blasts.

Spectators caught between both blasts, surge into the street rush both directions of Exeter Street.

Runners and spectators look on as responders pull first victims from the blasts.

Police officer urges people to continue moving away from Boylston Street.

Race officials begin blocking off flow of foot traffic, as victims are being brought to Exeter Street.

A woman, whose hand was mangled in the explosion,
is brought to the first ambulance on scene.

An older man is turned away as he tries to check on the woman
in the ambulance.

A family holds each other tightly as they hurry behind the Boston Public Library, as a fire truck arrives on scene.

It has been exactly 3 years since my last post.  I have not visited this blog since that time, so it was a shock to realize that these consecutive posts are of the same event, however drastically different in imagery.

I began shooting a little after 10:15 am - initially on the bridge that overlooks the Finish line, then covering other areas of the event.  I wasn't fully happy with my images I had been making up until that point, so after dropping my full memory cards and my cellphone off at the nearby hotel to charge, I returned to the field with my wide-angle lens around 2:35 pm, excited to get more engaging, close-up images.

Because I had media credentials, I hung out directly on the Finish line in front of the VIP grandstands.  2:48:48 pm, I started to look for my next position.  I stared at the row of flags flapping down the side of Boylston, wanting to integrated them in an interesting composition.  However, I was looking for a particular vision.  The stantions that held up the flags pushed the crowds too far back from the road and runners, that I had to rethink my next step.  I wanted to get an image of spectators hanging over the barricades and waving posters at runners passing by, so I instead continued down the street on the same side as the Boston Public Library.

I got as far as Exeter Street, where I saw a woman in the crowd with her two daughters.  She spotted me, waving to the camera, as the girls looked up the street towards the oncoming runners.  2:50:32 pm, I then ran into the middle of the street and photographed a young girl being pushed by her mother, while her father pumped her fist up in the air as they passed by.

At that moment, I heard a boom behind me.  Turning around, I see a cloud of smoke billowing up into the air.  2:51:03 pm, I quickly snap two photos, hoping to capture the scene before the cloud  dissipates.  I see yellow balloons bobbing up into the sky.  I paused briefly, taking it in, trying to make sense of what was in front of me.  

At some point, only seconds later, another boom went off on the other side of me, in the direction of the oncoming runners.  I froze, anticipating more explosions to happen around us.  I feared another one occurring right next to me, just as much as I feared running in the direction of one if I fled.  I remember continuing to take pictures of crowds rushing by, security and race officials waving them up and down Exeter Street, victims being brought to its intersection with Boylston, while people looked on.

My feelings of angst suddenly leave me as I see a young boy being carried by a paramedic from the opposite side of the street towards the ambulance next to me.  2:54:47 pm, my photo-journalistic instinct set back in and I began voraciously shooting, afraid to miss a moment.  Through my viewfinder, I noticed his curly, strawberry-blonde hair standing on end, blood dripping from his left ear, terror in his eyes.  I couldn't see an adult with him anywhere... After rushing away from that scene, I recalled this image and broke down... This still has not yet left my mind....

(Note, during this time, on one of my cameras, the cover to the battery broke off in the middle of the chaos, so I was frantically swapping back and forth batteries and juggling lenses trying to capture what was in front of me.)

[To be continued...]

114th Annual Boston Marathon

After living in Boston for 4 years, this was this first time I intentionally sought out to photograph (or even watch) the Marathon - in fact, I usually have tried to avoid it, especially with mile 25 routed directly in front of my school.

However, this year, I chose to seek a different perspective of the race (which has usually been at a distance, looking down on Kenmore Square, or dodging past crowds of spectators, hoping not to collide with them on my bike).  I woke up early and headed to the beginning of the race, which starts on Main Street of Hopkinton, a good 45 minutes west down the Mass Pike.  It amazes me that 45 minutes by car can be translated by some of the world's greatest runners into 2 to 2-1/2 hours by foot.  (To see how the runners did, visit the Results Page.)

When I arrived in Hopkinton, I didn't know what to expect.  I wandered around "Athletes' Village," aka Hopkinton Middle- and High- School parking lots and fields, before heading to the start line. I arrived in enough time, where most of the runners were still there either taking naps, huddled in as many layers as possible, or lining up to be photographed in front of the sign "Welcome to Hopkinton: It All Starts Here."

At the start line, it was a battle to find that "perfect spot" to shoot from.  For the hand cycle division, I had positioned myself against the fence just a little down the hill from the start line.  I thought that I was lucky because I was small enough to squeeze through the crowds and even sneak in front of the other photographers/videographers trying to capture the event.  It must have been the best angle, since there were a number of them there - perfect spot, right?  Nope.  Instead, we were (I was) too low to get a good enough of an angle of the racers, the fence was close to opaque, so there was no low-angle shooting, and the staff and police were blocking the view, so I had no chance to get a good image.  

Before the beginning of the Women's Elite start time, I quickly made my way over to the other side of the road.  However, the path there was only a sidewalk, already filled with spectators, and bordered on either side by fences.  And even though I was lucky to have weaseled my way through the crowd, I was too short to have been able to shoot over there heads, nor did I have a chance to walk up to the edge of the road/fence.  Finally, I saw my opening.  Directly at the start line, there was a metal frame covered on either side with plastic signs (reaching all the way to the ground) reading "Boston Marathon."  I needed to get a shot that morning, and realized that desperate times called for desperate measures.  So I snuck under, into the metal frame, hidden by the signs, and was able to sit directly at the start line (thank goodness for being small!).  Too bad that I didn't get a shot of my cozy little hiding spot so you could get a sense of  how tight it was.  I did end up leaning out into the road, shooting between police officers' feet (who were lined right in front of me), but thankfully for those who noticed me didn't mind :)  

I also positioned myself at Heart Break Hill, and got a few shots there.  But what entertained me the most, however, was not Marathon-related.  I was standing for a few minutes in the middle of the hill watching this little toddler running around the grass with some "CUIDADO" tape, that had fallen down, in its hand.  After a while going back and forth, getting the tape caught on everything that it passed, I noticed a funny sight (I assumed the feet on the left belonged to its parents!):

For more information about the Boston Athletic Association and the Boston Marathon, visit the Webslte.

Also, to find more photos of the Marathon events, visit the BAA Gallery.

Rainy Day on Deer Island

Three young girls playing on the rocks, at Deer Island's Yirrell Beach, on Saturday, February 27th, while large waves crashed against the shore.

A seagull standing watch near a shell that it pulled from the waves on Yirrell Beach.

Seagulls hover over the waves, as they crash against the shore of Yirrell Beach on Deer Island, in Winthrop, MA.