The Wake

The electronic signs along the M4 were rather ominous. They usually reported any number of everyday traffic mishaps, but at the moment they simply read: “Avoid London Today.” It was the evening of July 7 and our disobedient tour bus was heading back to central London. Not knowing what to expect, my family and I were pleasantly surprised when the traffic continued to flow freely and the bus was able to drop us off just across Hyde Park from our hotel. There were a number of people out and about — jogging, sitting on benches talking, picking up last-minute groceries at the corner store, directing lost-looking tourists towards their destinations. We stopped to eat at a little Turkish restaurant near our hotel. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. Then just as we received our food, the restaurant owner turned the television on and tuned into that night’s BBC News report.

Having taken public transportation all over the city the previous day, it was hard to believe what I was hearing. Three bombs on the underground, near King’s Cross, Edgware Road, and Liverpool Street stations. And a red, double-decker bus, ripped in half at Tavistock Place.

By the next morning, the papers were printing pictures of the missing and reporting on the difficult search for bodies deep underground. Eventually, it would be clear that 52 people had died in the first suicide bombings in Britain. Overall, Londoners were going about their daily business and, other than a more visible police force, nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. Most of the tube lines were functioning as usual and city buses had been operating since the night before. People didn’t seem worried and neither was I.

There had been a moment of fear when we first learned that three bombs had exploded just mere minutes after we left the city on the tour the previous morning. I didn’t feel threatened or in any danger. However, I was momentarily terrified of whatever it was that lied lurking in people and could result in such brutality. But the fear soon passed and I was left with sadness, horror, confusion — and gratitude.

A number of University of Minnesota students found themselves in that position, although, of course, they were far from alone. In fact, the University’s response was fast and efficient — particularly given the difficult time difference. An adviser with the University’s Learning Abroad Center, Amy Greeley, had been in London for about two weeks, visiting universities that the U of M works with in co-sponsored programs. July 7 was her final day in the city and she was on her way to her last program visit when she was turned away from the underground station. “I went to get on the tube to head out, but the station was closed. Everybody was standing around, trying to get on. They were directing all the people to the buses, but there was just no way I was going to get on a bus; there were too many people. So I called and said I didn’t know what to do and was told to stay put.” Not knowing what had happened, other than overhearing some buzz about a collapse or an explosion, Greeley was left in a mass of confused and upset commuters and tourists.

Sometime later, walking through the large crowds of people and hearing the chatter, she started to figure things out. One of the first things Greeley tried to do was communicate back to the University. “When something like this happens, everybody immediately contacts all of our partners, checks on where the students are and students are told to call their parents. That had all already happened. Even though I was there, there wasn’t much I could do at that point because everybody was safe,” she explains.

While Greeley caught her flight out of the city the morning of July 8, my family and I continued our sightseeing. We walked to the Lancaster Gate station. As we stood on the platform waiting, security guards and police officers walked back and forth, observing all the people. Periodic announcements explained that the increase in security was due to “the incident on the underground on Thursday.” As we stepped onto the train, less crowded than usual but still decently full, there was a definite sense of slightly nervous determinedness in the faces of all the passengers. London was resolutely going to get back on its feet.