A few days ago, I got a news alert on my phone. A man had driven his car into a crowd of pedestrians right next to Big Ben in central London. There were police. There was shooting. There were injuries and there was death. The first thought that crossed my mind was: that could've been me.
Exactly one year ago I roamed the streets of London almost every day, for 3 months straight. There is one time in particular that stands out in my memory. It was late afternoon, maybe 3 or 4 pm. I was alone, headphones in, wandering around the Westminster area. I came out of the Westminster tube station, and squinted up at Big Ben.
And I then crossed Westminster Bridge.
And then I walked along the Thames until I got to another one of my favorite bridges where you can see a perfect view of the Eye, the Thames, and Parliament.
This is, by far, my favorite picture I ever took in London. After I took it, I walked back to Westminster station, and took the tube home. It had been a normal day. No incidents. No issues. Just the beauty of the city and the peace that comes with being by yourself in a place like that.
I stood on that bridge so many times. I used to complain about the number of tourists that always clogged up the sidewalks on that bridge. I fought my way through selfie sticks and street performers every time I stepped on that bridge.
It could've been me jumping into the Thames to get away from the attacker. It could've been me running towards the Eye to save my life. It could have been me, one minute taking another stunning picture of Parliament, the next minute in the middle of an attack.
I am not trying to be morbid. This is, simply, the truth. I spent 112 days in London. Do you know how many terrorist attacks there were in the city?
0.
This post is one of thankfulness. By the grace of God, it was not me. It was not me on that bridge that day. It was not me in London when an attack happened. And yes, these types of things could happen anywhere, at anytime. But there is something about seeing a news story, of death and destruction, and feeling that realization hit you. I've been there. I've stood where that car drove.
There are students from my college currently in London, a part of the same program I went through last year. They are all okay. Everyone is safe. It was not them. It was not me.
But it could have been.
I will never, ever stop thanking God that it was not me, or any them. I will never stop thanking God that no attacks happened in my time abroad. And my heart hurts for those who were affected today. I am lucky enough to be typing this, telling you that it wasn't me. But others will not get that chance; they were robbed of it by a man whose intent was purely evil. It is not fair. It will never be fair.
I think back to that day on that bridge. I was not thinking about the possibility of a man driving into me. I was thinking about Big Ben, and taking pictures, and that man playing the accordion behind me and that nice family smiling for a picture in front of Parliament.
It could have been me.
