There is something special about my section of the neighborhood. Just like Martin, the Ashmont/Adams area is the place I grew up in…just two blocks from where Martin played with his friends just a couple of days ago. I’m not going to go at length about the Richard family. In my opinion not one of these national media outlets is going to do the family justice quite like the Forry family and the Dorchester Reporter. They understand the dynamics of this community like no other and nobody tells our stories better.
I’m writing this based on my gut and the range of emotions that kept me awake until 4 this morning. All I keep thinking of is this young kid. This kid that heard the same sounds, walked the same sidewalks and played in the same parks. I’m assuming he knew what it was like to walk out of his door in the morning and look at all the majestic homes of our neighborhood. Perhaps the sounds of trains at Ashmont station in the distance gave him the same sense of home that it gives me to this day. Did he know he was playing street hockey around the corner from where JFK used to visit his grandparents house? On any given day could he hear the MacMaster family practicing the bagpipes? Did he love walking down to Peobody Square to watch the Dorchester Day parade?
In 8 years, I was already in love with all of this, I was already in love with Dorchester. Deep in my heart I know Martin felt the same.
Our nation is watching us right now. Most of them don’t understand just how deeply we adore this neighborhood of ours or how fiercely loyal we are to one another. Boston didn’t get its reputation from Beacon Hill. That reputation was born in our streets.
Martin was a Dot Rat.
It’s up to us to show the world exactly what that means.