A Day Later
So they caught him. I, too, was glued to the TV Friday night and cheered out loud and even clapped when CNN said they got him, then ran down the hall to tell my husband, who was annoyed Bill O’Reilly wasn’t on. But then my joy turned to sadness and even sorrow, when photos showed the suspected bomber climbing out of the boat, all bloodied and diminished, defeated, despairing. It’s all over, for him. I read everything I could get my hands on, how he idolized his older brother and “followed him like a puppy,” as one paper reported it; was happy-go-lucky and a partier, as high school friends described him. But what I really wanted to know was why someone, anyone, would do something like this. I guess it’s as useless – and pointless – as wondering why Adam Lanza shot up an elementary school. As an old reporter friend at this very paper told me years ago, “You’re not a murderer, so you don’t think like one.” What was more disturbing, though, was that a terrorist