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My Midnight Encounter with the Boston Bombers

The story of a pastor caught in the crossfire of the Watertown shootout.

Last Friday, at about 12:40 A.M., my wife Emily and I awoke in our bedroom to a sudden, loud pop. This was followed by several more pops. They sounded like fireworks to us. When Emily looked out the window, she saw an orange gun flash and a bunch of commotion. Immediately we dropped to the ground, with our dog, Taco. She handed me her phone and said, "Call 911!" All the while, the gunshots kept coming.

The 911 operators told there was a car chase and gunfight in progress. I told the operator our home address and hung up the phone to get to cover. I realized, This is happening right outside our windows. We were in immense danger, so I looked at my wife and said, "Emily, we have to get out of this bedroom."

Seeking safety

Taking Taco by his collar, we crawled from our bedroom through the hallway into our kitchen. As we inched through the hallway, the gunshots sounded closer and we saw an explosion—a bright flash—through our front door window. There was a much louder and thicker boom, and we ...

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