Adam McCready huddled in the back corner of his Watertown kitchen, a butcher knife in his hand, shielding his family.
He and his wife hatched a plan: If the Tsarnaev brothers came through their back door, Jackie would run with their 1-year-old son. Adam would stay.
And so the family waited as a firefight between police and the two Boston bombing suspects ensued.
After the popping of gunshots and the sound of explosions faded, Dzhokhar Tsarnaev ran over his wounded brother in the pair's stolen car. He drove up a hill McCready can see from his front porch, the one where he walks his dog on a daily basis.
The hunt and eventual capture of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev one year ago took place just blocks away from McCready, a South Carroll High School alumnus and assistant director of MIT's Fraternities, Sororities and Independent Living Groups office.
"It [was] way too close to home," the Carroll native said while recalling the experience in a phone interview with the Times.
Marathon Monday: April 15, 2013
Adam McCready jogged to the marathon's famous Heartbreak Hill with his son, Noah, in a stroller. The pair watched as the first runners went by, leaving the course's sidelines around midday.
Back at home, four miles from the race's finish line, Noah began to doze. McCready checked Twitter, his attention drawn to news of an explosion. He turned on the television and watched as the scene unfolded on screen.
"I didn't really process it at first," he said. "I was like, 'What is going on here?'"
A bomb had exploded at 2:49 p.m. Then another about 12 seconds later.
Shrapnel tore through the crowd. Onlookers and runners dispersed as law enforcement and emergency personnel converged on Boylston Street.
McCready sprung into work mode at his Watertown duplex, attempting to account for Massachusetts Institute of Technology students.
Some fraternities' and sororities' homes sit near Boylston Street; other students volunteer to man the marathon's water stations. And the administration needed to know if all were safe. So, they sent Google spreadsheets out to the different living communities, and McCready watched as students responded with their location in real time.
The documents produced the result MIT officials were hoping for: All were OK.
The manhunt: April 18-19, 2013
The day had been long for McCready - one of those workdays where the first meeting starts at 7 a.m. and the last ends late into the evening.
He began to head home, walking toward a Boston subway station, then changed his mind and hailed a cab instead. The pop, pop, pop of something - probably firecrackers, McCready thought - broke through the night's silence.
Minutes after walking inside his home, McCready's phone buzzed: Active shooter on campus. Shelter in place, he recalled the text stated.
MIT Officer Sean Collier had been fatally shot in the path McCready would have taken to the subway station. The Boston bombing suspects were the alleged killers.
For the second time that week, McCready sprung into action. He was the dean-on-call that night, meaning he was in charge of a phone used in emergencies.
He began to call MIT's back-up responders and other support services. He contacted resident advisers to account for all students, again using Google spreadsheets to track their locations.
"Just so you know," he told his wife, Jackie, "I'm probably not going to bed tonight."
Events progressed rapidly. Students noted their whereabouts on the documents. Friends contacted McCready to check on him. A Facebook friend who graduated from MIT struck up a conversation.
"They're in Watertown," the Facebook friend wrote.
"I live in Watertown," McCready recalled replying.
"They're apparently somewhere near Dexter Street."
"I'm hearing explosions," McCready responded, then closed his computer. He turned off the lights in his living room. He woke up his wife, grabbed his son and headed into the kitchen, which sits just two blocks from where the firefight between police and the Tsarnaev brothers erupted.
The family huddled together, McCready with a butcher knife clutched in his hand.
Questions swirled through his mind: Are these suspects armed and dangerous? Are they going to break into residents' houses? Will they take hostages?
Waiting it out
The McCreadys didn't feel safe staying on the first floor, so they climbed the stairs to the duplex above theirs. The neighbors remained together throughout the night, huddled in the living room, waiting.
After sunrise, the McCreadys headed back down to their duplex. They packed their belongings, waiting to see if they'd be evacuated from Watertown as the hunt for Dzhokhar Tsarnaev continued.
Massachusetts Gov. Deval Patrick asked Bostonians to shelter in place. It was McCready's wife's birthday, so he gave her a gift and a card in an attempt to ease the tense mood permeating the neighborhood.
At about 1:30 p.m., there was a knock on the front door. A few SWAT team members stood in front of their duplex, one armed with an assault rifle.
They peppered the family with questions: Is your house safe? Is there reason for us to come in?
In the early evening, the governor lifted the shelter-in-place order. The McCreadys gathered their packed bags and scurried into their car, heading toward Jackie's parents' house in a town a few miles away.
"I don't think we've ever left our house quicker in our entire life," Adam said.
The McCreadys were away when police zeroed in on Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, who was hiding in a boat in a Watertown backyard. A standoff ensued. And then the 19-year-old turned himself in, peacefully, to authorities.
The healing begins
The Watertown neighborhood banded together to heal, ordering Watertown Strong T-shirts. MIT faculty provided support and resources to students. They organized a memorial service for MIT's slain officer, attended by thousands.
"The Watertown community and the MIT community and the entire Boston community rallied around each other to try and support each other," McCready said. "If any good came out of what transpired, it's the sense of community that has developed afterward."
But the healing is an ongoing process as the one-year mark of the Boston bombings came and went. Runners are gearing up for Monday's marathon, like McCready, who is running with the MIT Strong team to honor Collier. As of Friday afternoon, he had raised more than $4,700 for the MIT Collier Fund.
"It'll be interesting to see how things go on Monday during the race," McCready said. "I'm curious to see what my emotion will be like at the finish line."
He anticipates it'll be a moment of joy, of reflection.
