down the red line in dorchester, up 93 through somerville and medford, and on memorial drive to m.i.t. our grief drew us a painful map. in the darkest hour of that night, we looked to our first responders who are always our begin on hope, of courage, of heart. we saw police officers, firefighters and emts running toward danger as they always do, and they always will. we saw medical staff and volunteers tending to the injured. we saw businesses on boylston street children traumatized. our public employees from the city of boston were rushing to find resources. we saw people who came to cheer on the runners instead of running away themselves, running to save the lives of perfect strangers. as the day went on in wheeler to handley of loss, we saw that their lives told us a story of our city. lingzi lu was drawn here from halfway around the world to study, learn, and explore. krystle campbell was always the last to leave work, but she was always there when her grandmother needed her. sean a. collier was doing what he always wanted to do, building a career as a police officer devoted to community. and martin