Local witnesses reflect on terror of Boston Marathon bombing
Apr. 16—Karen Aleshire had never run in a marathon before 2018, the year she picked to participate in the Boston Marathon.
The longtime Montville police officer, a witness to the carnage of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing, recalls hundreds of people lining miles along the course, rooting her and her team on.
The weather conditions were less than ideal that year. But despite the cold, freezing rain and driving wind, Aleshire found it an exhilarating experience.
"It was breathtaking they would be standing on the course in these conditions and specifically cheering for the charity I was running for," Aleshire said. "It was one of the most powerful experiences I have ever had."
Aleshiure ran with Team MR8 to raise money for the Martin Richard Foundation. The foundation was created by the family of 8-year-old Martin Richard to promote sportsmanship, inclusion, kindness and peace. Richard one of the three people killed when two pressure cooker bombs exploded near the finish line of the Boston Marathon on April 15, 2013. Richard was with his family waiting for his dad to finish the race.
In addition to the three people killed by the bombs, Massachusetts Institute of Technology Police Officer Sean Collier was shot and killed by one of two brothers — ―Tamerlan and Dzhokhar Tsarneav ― who planted the bombs.
More than 260 other people were injured and at least 10 people lost limbs in the explosions. A ceremony for the 10th anniversary was held on Saturday and the 127th running of the Boston Marathon is Monday.
Aleshire, because of her experiences on the day of the bombing, has maintained a connection to the city of Boston and to the people who united after the horrific events. She has sought out worthwhile charities and visited Boston with her family for the anniversaries often in the years since the bombing.
Aleshire had attended a Patriots' Day Boston Red Sox game in 2013 with Connecticut State Trooper Jeffrey Meninno, who is now retired. Meninno spent much of his 25-year career in Connecticut at Troop E in Montville, but grew up outside of Boston and spent 12 years as a police officer in Massachusetts.
After the game, the two had walked to the finish line of the marathon on nearby Boylston Street. Aleshire, formerly known as Karen Moorehead, was taking a photo when the first bomb detonated.
"I looked at Jeff and asked him, 'What do you think that was?' " Aleshire said.
"He said, 'I don't know but it's not good,' " she recalled.
They were even closer to where the second bomb detonated. Meninno compared the blast to a percussion grenade. There was smoke and a strong smell of sulfur in the air. The two jumped a barrier onto Boylston Street as an injured man emerged from the smoke.
The man, later identified as Jarrod Clowery, was staggering and in and out of consciousness. Some of his clothes had been burned off of him and "he was still kind of smoldering," Aleshire said. He was bleeding from shrapnel wounds and doctors would later pull dozens of metal objects from his body, including nails. Two of the friends he was with lost legs.
Clowery would be the first of at least 10 others Aleshire and Meninno treated that day. Bystanders had spotted them rendering aid and began dragging victims over for treatment. They moved quickly, using whatever supplies they could find from a nearby ambulance.
Meninno said he recalls the injuries more than the faces, including a child with severe burns. Others were in shock.
"The injuries Jeff and I treated were just so intense," Aleshire said.
"I put more tourniquets on that day then I did during my 38-year career. It's just not something you do, not something you expect to have to do," Meninno said.
During the moments she had to look around, Aleshire recalls the pain and fear on the faces of the people around her.
"Nobody knew what was going on and everyone was fearful," she said.
They treated people with makeshift tourniquets, using belts and scarves. They also helped to coordinate the transfer of patients onto awaiting ambulances. They found themselves covered in blood by the time they were forced to evacuate. Police had discovered a backpack nearby and feared it was another bomb.
Meninno and Aleshire found themselves cleaning up at an empty firehouse where the news was on the television and being described as a terrorist attack.
Aleshire said the anniversary of the marathon bombing has brought movies and shows about the day's events. She has avoided them.
"I tried to watch some of the newer stuff and I can't. The emotions I saw in the victims faces that day, the pain and emotion on the victims faces. You don't want to see that again," she said.
Both Meninno and Aleshire were honored by Connecticut State Police with a Meritorious Service Medal for displaying a "high degree of alertness, perseverance and superior judgment in the performance of a difficult task, resulting in the protection of life..."
Meninno has shied away from publicity about his actions that day and said he is not one to attend memorial services. They make him uncomfortable. He maintains that anybody in his position would have acted as he did.
"I have a hard time with the whole 'You're a hero thing.' I'm not the story,'" Meninno said.
Meninno and Aleshire were not the only people from eastern Connecticut impacted by the events of that day.
Mike Schwartz, owner of Mike's Famous Harley Davidson in New London, was invited to the Red Sox game that day by John Carlin, president of New London-based Carlin Construction.
The two had taken a train from New London to Boston, enjoyed the game and walked to try and get close to the finish line of the marathon.
Schwartz had called his friend's daughter to come meet them for lunch. The two were attempting to get closer to the finish line to meet with a friend, who was running in the marathon.
Because of the barricades, Schwartz said the two could not make it as close as they had hoped and were resigned to a location a short distance from the finish line. The two were attempting to find a seat at the Capital Grille on Boylston Street when Schwartz heard the first "boom." He was still looking around when he caught a glimpse of the second bomb go off, something he compared to the lighting of a grill that had accumulated too much gas. There was a fireball.
"I knew at that point I'm witnessing something here that is unthinkable," Schwartz said.
Amid the chaos and uncertainty of what might happen next, the two made their way to the nearest train, not even knowing where it was headed. They didn't have tickets but explained to the conductor what was going on and rode to a stop where they would find a train home.
The news hit the Internet on the ride home that it had been a terrorist attack. Carlin said the friend who was running the race was not injured.
"We're just lucky we weren't any closer. It's something you don't forget. So many people's lives were affected," Carlin said.
Schwartz, who is from the Philadelphia area, said he now maintains a connection to Boston.
"I have tremendous empathy for the people impacted that day. It shows how precious life is, how a moment can take that all away from you," he said.
