London Bridge Attack: A Wakeup Call For Vacationing Americans
Above, Just days before the attack, we like many tourists were crisscrossing the bridges of the Thames River to visit sites, pubs and restaurants. Tower Bridge is behind us, Linda Norris-Waldt
My husband Eric and I decided to book a long talked-about flight to visit family and sightsee in London, when last year’s leaves were dropping from our Middletown trees,. Terrorism crossed our minds. But we didn’t seriously expect it.
First, let me say---when the London Bridge attack happened, we were eight miles away in the small London village of Wandsworth. I can’t claim any eyewitness testimony or first-hand accounts. But what I can relate is what we all think about--what it would be like to be close to frightening events in a faraway place, and the reactions of friends and family and the people who live there. It’s a lesson in appreciation for the relative safety we enjoy in the United States.
Ironically, we were most watchful earlier in the week, when we spent three days in Brussels, Belgium (which had just been visited by another American named Donald Trump). France and Brussels export a quarter of the Islamic State’s foreign fighters. Indeed, 16 people were killed and hundreds injured last year in Brussels during a series of suicide bombings. I was comforted, though unnerved at the same time, to see Belgian Army tanks and machine-gun armed soldiers patrolling the streets while Belgians revelled joyously -- drinking beer at outdoor cafes at all times of day. We were warned by regular European travelers such as Frederick County’s Ilona Hogan to “stay safe” in Brussels, and had planned to be cautious there.
But all was quiet, and we returned Friday to London to stroll outside the Palace of Westminster, home of Parliament. We grimaced thinking about how life had changed since last March, when a terrorist in a van jumped the curb on the Westminster Bridge to mow down pedestrians and a police officer (five people were killed). Just six years before, we had posed near that very spot with the jolly, lightly armed Bobbies (the name fondly given to the London police) for pictures in front of Parliament. Now, metal roadblocks the size of snowplow shovels stand on the sidewalk between pedestrians and the road. And a series of metal barriers looking like a parade of bicycle racks separated us from even talking with the cheerful Bobbies--who were now grim and carrying M4s.
The next day--the day of the attack--we threaded our way through crowds of tourists and weekenders at Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus-- known as London’s “Times Square”. We talked about the target these thousands of pedestrians would make for someone whose mind was on mayhem. At the time the idea was just idle speculation, but it became reality a few hours later. Eric shook me awake as I drifted to sleep in our hotel room while he watched the news of the van on the London Bridge and knives in a pub at Borough Market. “Quick. Get on the computer. You need to let the kids know we are safe.”
We were up for into the early hours of the morning watching the carnage in places we had walked just days before. By morning the three culprits had been shot.
I remember the earth-shattering experience the day after---no, the whole week after--the attacks on September 11. As Americans, it affected every encounter I had with friends, family and strangers. But in London, it was different. The Sunday morning sun came out, families set out to go to church, shops and soccer games….yet in a subdued way. After the 9/11 attacks, even strangers felt compelled to mention the tragedy as if it acknowledging it was the only way to get on with our lives. But in London, where residents wait like other Europeans for the next attack, there is a kind of wariness about it---as if the shock had worn off. People just didn’t bring it up in casual conversation. I can’t even imagine how humans in countries under constant terrorist attacks, such as the Middle East, can cope with knowing a shoe could drop any day, any hour.
But it has its impact in London, even if it’s not discussed openly. Fear lurks close to the surface. We waited a few days later in a train station coffee shop for a trip outside London, and an announcement filled Liverpool Street Station. “We are testing our emergency notification system. You DO NOT need to evacuate the station. This is only a test.”
When the alarm sounded, patrons all around us who had their heads focused on their laptops with headphones blocking their ears looked up in alarm, ready to flee, when we assured them that we heard that the announcement was a test. “I don’t care,” said one woman, terror. in her eyes. “Thank you but I am evacuating anyway.”
There but for the grace of God go I. I am sure New Yorkers can relate to the feelings of Londoners, but for the rest of America, the daily wariness is something we don’t recognize at this time. Internationally we are struggling for the right solution to find and stop the ISIS-inspired radicalization of home-grown terrorists. In London, we saw it up close and personal.
