It's 7:24 a.m. on Tuesday. More sirens. The trash truck is out back and the helicopters are again in the air, the streets are empty. Last night walking home from Foodies with salad, those who were out walked in silence, the restaurants were closed. Now I'm in tears. Just a few weeks ago I was singing with the Boston Gay Men’s Chorus (BGMC).
Our December 14 concert comes to mind. It was just after the senseless deaths of Newton school children, Reuben, our director, introduced us singing Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah and I don't remember his exact words but they went something like... "Today people asked me how we could be singing at a time like this, and I said "How could we NOT be singing? We sing Hallelujah, Leonard Cohen's, Hallelujah, a song of praise. A song that has more than 100 verses by now." He went on. "A song that needs so many verses because Cohen's asking, ASKING how do I sing praise... how do I sing Hallelujah."
And Reuben's words stopped and our singing began, and when our singing stopped Jordon Hall rose in a standing ovation. It's was a moment I'll never forget, a Dec 14 moment, a day I'll never forget. I don't remember Reuben's exact words, and yet, I can rebuild what he said as the thought and the moment will never leave me. And now one day and four months later, in the middle of the month, on a day we celebrate our Patriot's, a holiday here in Massachusetts, in my city, on the 17th century streets I've walked countless times, there's more sudden senseless death. This time let's not "use" this sacred time as an excuse to start wars-for-profit.
Here in Massachusetts we have the will to change our sadness, our loss, out anger into a social movement. Let us begin, and let us begin singing, singing Hallelujahs.