We got downtown and headed to the auxiliary park, Justice Park. I had promised my wife I wouldn't go to the front lines. I didn't. Watching people filter out was like a scene from Platoon. People bloody. Someone told us someone had been shot.
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By the time the attack happened, we had formed a group of about eight people, all locals, committed to getting each other home safe. The walk back was like nothing else. We had to go the long way. Back up to downtown. Around the pavilion. Over the Belmont Bridge.
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We walked in a formation, last person walking backwards to watch for another car attack.
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Tell me it wasn't war. Tell me it wasn't terrorism. I dare you.
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End of conversation
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