Yesterday evening my friends and me went to a theater in Paris to see the musical Cats. We left the theater, still in awe of the exceptional performance, as one often does while seeing a show, a play or attending a concert. But while leaving we learned that at only a short distance away, another theater was under attack.
Yesterday evening the barbarity of terrorism has taken another historical step. A massacre in the heart of Paris – yes, the heart of the French Republic – was conducted. Unlike the Charlie Hebdo shooting last January, which had as objective to silence free speech, yesterday’s attack was conducted in cold determination to kill as many as possible. Indistinct cruelty unleashed to inspire terror across the entire nation. The sites of the attacks, all dedicated to entertainment and friendliness, were purposely in the line of fire as a way to underline the fact that French people are now under menace in their everyday life, as they simply go out with friends.
Yesterday evening a series of attacks has taken the lives of at least 128 people and wounded 200, of which 90 severely. Many of them young people, some on the streets, most in a concert hall. My heart bleeds. For my country, for this world we are living in and for the victims of yesterday’s attacks and their families and friends.
Yesterday evening we published our editor’s letter. Seen in the light of today, or the darkness of last night, we probably could not have chosen a better subject as the one we talked about. Freedom. Sacrifice. Remembering. And while I’m writing this, I can’t help thinking back to that one magical moment of last night. A moment when one young woman stood alone, center stage, in a packed theater. A moment that at that time was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop save for this girls extraordinary voice, singing a song that marks the climax of the musical Cats. And it gives me shivers to think that most probably, at the very moment she sang, and we held our breath in wonder, others screamed in fear for their lives.
Today we publish this supplement to yesterday’s editor’s letter in shock, in pain and in horror, but also in remembrance, respect and mourning.
“Memory
All alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember
A time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again”
No comments:
Post a Comment