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THE EQUINOX The student voice of Keene State College
VOL. 68, ISSUE #11
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2015
[ KSCEquinox.com ]
Keene State supports Paris I got to show that these 129 people didn’t die in vain. That, like thousands of others, we won’t forget them and that we’ll keep on living. Because what else can we do? YANN JULES KSC ALUMNI, PARIS RESIDENT
Anyway, let's get to Friday. I left work at 6 p.m., went to the center of Paris to pick up my wife I came to KSC in the fall of and we headed home. We had 2006 and graduated in Decem- the TV turned on to the soccer ber 2009, studied journalism game all night, not really watchand moved back to France in ing it as we had dinner. I watched early 2010. it a little bit in the second half but Prior to coming to Keene I had no idea what was unfolding I grew up in Drancy, in the until 10:45. My wife Marlee went suburbs of paris. To give to let our dog out before going you some context, Drancy to bed, and I checked Facebook is three miles from the on my phone. That's when I saw Stadium targeted by one of our friends in Paris letting the attacks. I currently her family know she was safe. As live in Le Raincy, 12 I scrolled down, I realized somemiles from that same thing was wrong. I switched to stadium. I also work the news channel and discovered a quarter of a mile what was happening. away from the StaIt took me a while to realdium (the com- ize what was happening. In fact pany is within I stayed up until 1 a.m. watching the safety news and I still didn't understand perimeter the magnitude of the event. At when there this point it was bad already, with are events 40-60 casualties reported. there). My wife woke me up at 6:30 a.m. when she saw the death toll was 120. We watched the news for a few hours. The main issue at this time was that we still didn't know how the events had happened, who was responsible and why they had attacked us. I felt very uneasy about the situation. We tried to go about YANN JULES Contributing Writer
our normal business, going to get some groceries. Even at the mall, the atmosphere was off. Stores were closed. There were very little people walking around. And those who were there looked uncomfortable. So did I. I won't hide it: I cried while writing these few paragraphs. I was hurting deeply. I couldn't fathom that all this had just happened in places I was familiar with. But writing about it has worked, and I was relieved, and Sunday turned out to be a good day. A sad day because of the freshness, but a lighter one nevertheless. This morning as I got up, I felt uneasy again. I was wondering what it would be like to go back to work. To drive by that stadium where it has all begun, passing 100 feet from the McDonald’s restaurant where the third bomber had detonated his explosives. As it turns out, there were no visible signs on what happened, but there was a very distinctive unmistakable smell. Then, just as I was settling down for my work day came the news that another bomber had been identified. A 28-year-old from Drancy. My hometown. I was in shock. As if this story could not get any
MARY CURTIN
Contributing Writer While I am no expert on all things European, I am an expert on how Europe has impacted me. I have had the privilege to live on this continent for over two months now: exploring several countries including Portugal, Morocco (Africa) and, most recently, France. During my stay in Paris, I fell more in love with the city every passing minute. It was beautiful, the c rois -
closer to my home. Since then, we've also learned that the terrorists had rented an apartment in Bobigny, the next town over. Tonight when I got out of work, I had a little bit of time before picking up Marlee so I decided to go see for myself where the attacks occurred. I stood on the corner in front of the restaurant where 14 people died on Friday. I looked at the flowers, the messages, the wine bottles set on the sidewalk. I read through the messages people had left, most of them by people just like me, who didn't lose anyone they knew -even though virtually everyone knows someone who knows someone who died Friday. So I pulled out a pen, scribbled a few sentences on the paper placed over the bullet holes on the wall across the street. I went there to get closure. Did I get it? I don't think so. Things are still too fresh. But I got to show that these 129 people didn't die in vain. That, like thousands of others, we won't forget them and that we'll keep on living. Because what else can we do? Yann Jules can be contatced at Yann.Jules@Gmail.com
sants were fantastic and the people were as helpful as they could be. military uniforms wielding huge guns. This struck me as intimidating, but I was of course aware that such precautions should be taken in any city. We spent the weekend eating, laughing and exploring. Everywhere we went, there were these same guards, gripping tightly to these same giant weapons. It made me feel nervous and safe at the same time. When it came time for us to head newfound love and swore we would make it back before we turned 30. It has now been less than two weeks since returning from Paris, and the thought of these attacks makes me shudder in all of the worst ways possible. an email from my dad back in the states. The email read, “I guess I’m just a paranoid dad, right?” The context of this email comes from the fact that my dad had some anxiety about letting me spend a semester away from home, knowing that ISIS was not quite under control. on my phone from ESPN while spending time with a Spanish friend. I was confused by the email from my dad and promptly checked CNN for the information. My heart sank immediately. The
» PARIS, A2 CONTRIBUTED PHOTO / MARY CURTAIN
A&E Sigma Pi Lip Sync Battle
STUDENT LIFE Senior Pub Crawl
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BREE KRAUS / EQUINOX STAFF
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