Tonight, we mourn.
We mourn for the dozens of lives lost during a stunningly horrific set of terror attacks in Paris Friday evening.
We mourn with the injured, with the families, with the residents of Paris and beyond.
And we mourn for the slice of innocence and cheer that vanished in an evening filled with music and sport and joy. An innocence and joy that was shattered.
Our cities have seen and heard these moments of terror. The states of emergency, the travel restrictions, the speeches by those in power, the lights and sirens, the fear, the screams.
But each time, it is a new horror, committed by those without care for human life. Friday, it was Paris, hit by a seemingly coordinated series of terror attacks. They occurred in a concert hall, in a football stadium, and outside a restaurant – in places that should be venues of entertainment and fun.
There is shock and stunning grief, even as the details continue to stream in, and so much is not yet known. But this attack, somehow, seems different, in its terrifying, haphazard and brutal scope, in the sites that were targeted, in the context of a world that has been on edge.
Even as we grieve, we learn quickly about the power of those who do care. About the #porteouverte Twitter hashtag, or “open door,” that popped up so quickly for those who needed shelter. About the firefighters and police officers running toward the terror. About the efforts by those who are trying to help.
In the coming days, we will learn more about who was behind the night of terror in Paris. We will learn more about the victims, too. And we’ll be there for our neighbors across the Atlantic, offering assistance – and a shoulder upon which to cry.
But tonight, we mourn.
