REBEKAH GREGORY
borrowed from success.com
Rebekah Gregory was initially reluctant when federal prosecutors asked her to give a victim impact statement to the jurors who would decide the fate of 2013 Boston Marathon bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev.
Ultimately the 28-year-old Houston woman, whose left leg was amputated as a result of the blast, seized the opportunity to give Tsarnaev a simple message: You lost.
While Tsarnaev and his brother killed three and injured more than 260 with their bombs, their cowardly actions unleashed a tidal wave of love for and among the survivors, she told him. “I looked directly at him. I stared at my biggest enemy. ‘You caused mass destruction, but you also brought people together. Nobody’s going to remember your name or your brother’s name. They’re going to remember the survivors.’ ”
And for good reason.
Like others who lost loved ones, limbs or hope by the impact of the two pressure-cooker bombs, Gregory is giving back.
Last Christmas she and her now 8-year-old son, Noah, raised money to buy presents for those who couldn’t afford them. She has also sold “Rebekah Strong” T-shirts (made for her 2015 Boston Marathon run) to raise money for earthquake victims in Nepal.
Gregory and her son also started what they call “Sharing Smiles.” They visit hospitals and talk to patients. Like fellow marathon amputee Heather Abbott, who started a foundation to raise money to buy prosthetic devices for amputees, Gregory is particularly drawn to those who have lost limbs. She assures them their lives can still be full and rich. “I can still rock a dress,” she says with a laugh.
Her main passion is Rebekah’s Angels, a foundation that raises money for children suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.
Noah was sitting at her feet near the finish line when the two bombs exploded on April 15, 2013. Had he been standing, she suspects he would’ve been killed. She served as a human shield. But while his physical injuries were minor, like her, he is emotionally scarred.
Not only did he witness the bloody mayhem, he watched his mother struggle to recover. After spending 40 days in a Boston hospital, Gregory returned to Texas, where she underwent 17 surgeries. Finally, in November 2014, she decided to have her left leg amputated below the knee.
“We both experience [PTSD] but in different ways,” Gregory says. She often awakes in the night, screaming and sweating from yet another nightmare. Fireworks paralyze her. Noah’s symptoms are subtler: He isn’t as adventurous as he once was. He no longer wants to ride his bike. Loud music drives him from movie theaters.
“I tell him, ‘Your brain is just tricking you. What you think is scary is not really scary,’ ” she says. Both are undergoing therapy. Children’s inexplicable fears are often ignored or misunderstood, or treatment is too expensive. “So many cases are undiagnosed or untreated,” Gregory says. Many children with PTSD grow up to be angry and dysfunctional adults.
Gregory’s turnaround has come in various ways. She is frank about her journey, posting near-daily comments to her 46,000 Facebook fans. Her online journal has become a surprising part of her recovery, a forum for sharing experiences and inspiring others.
In April, only five months after her amputation, she ran the last 3.2 miles of the Boston Marathon. It was her first visit to the city since the bombing. While emotionally difficult, it was part of putting the past behind her, she says. The same goes for her decision to stare Tsarnaev in the eyes and tell him his plan to spread hate had failed.
“Did I want my leg to get blown off by a terrorist? No. But so many people donated their time and efforts to get us back—not to normalcy—but to get us back to our lives. The world needs so much hope and light.”