One year ago, I was sent to cover my first major breaking news story form York, Pa. The Boston Marathon Bombing.
Honestly, it feels like yesterday.
I don't know how to compare my experience with others who have seen worst in their life time as a journalist.
I didn't see any dead bodies. No explosions to be had. No blood or guts. All I saw were runners and locals trying to figure how to react to the situation.
How do I describe this feeling of lost? I don't know. When people ask me about my experience in Boston. I simply said, "I don't know."
The adrenaline kicked in. And all I could think about is tell the best story I ever told. Find the subject and let everyone know about what is happening.
I didn't reflect on the tragedy when I was in the moment, until I got back to my hotel room on the second day. I laid in bed and cried. I cried so much that it put me to sleep.
The one thing I can take away from the Boston experience is to always give someone you care a hug. It means a whole lot in someone's life. It did for me. I hugged a stranger willing to give hugs during the week of the bombing.
It felt so damn good not a journalist, but as a human being.