After Charlie Hedbo it was hard to stomach the Metro accident on Monday. Faithful readers may recall that we were living in Capitol Hill and our primary Metro station was Union Station when the accident in 2009 occurred; I was stuck on the Metro with a colleague and we didn't learn about the accident until we both got home.
Now that we have moved to another part of the District, L'Enfant Plaza is the main transfer station for us to get to many places, including work for me and daycare for Zacky, and the main exit when we visit the Smithsonian. Usually Mohamed picks me up from work but I take the Metro if our schedules don't mesh. Late Monday afternoon I met a neighbor turned friend for happy hour at Old Ebbitt Grill. It was my first time there even though it's such a Washington DC institution. I had planned to take the metro home. If I had, I definitely would've been stuck on a train because of the accident. We splurged for a taxi instead and had to pass by the sprawl of emergency response vehicles at L'Enfant Plaza while listening to the local news on the accident.
What disturbs me the most is that I am often at that station with Zacky, and I often take the Metro with him in general. "Put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others" is drilled into my head but I don't know what I would do if I were actually in an emergency with Zacky and seeing him distressed and frightened (especially with his past respiratory problems), while feeling the same way myself.