Unafraid

On July 7th last year, I was standing on a train platform at South Ruislip, waiting for a fast train into London. The trains were typically running late, and those of us waiting began complaining to each other about public transport. I remember laughing with a man about London grinding to a halt the day after winning the 2012 Olympic bid.

After a while, someone suggested that there were no trains coming at all, and we began to speculate as to what had happened. The wrong sort of leaves on the line? Trudging back to my Nan's house on foot, I called her on my cellphone and she told me that there were bombs. Bombs?

I discovered that there had been four bombs detonated in central London, multiple dead and god knows how many walking wounded. We knew it was coming, we'd been waiting since 9/11, but it was still a shock. And yet I remember being utterly fixated on whether my flight for Los Angeles the next day would be canceled.

Watching the news was emotional, to say the least. Tony Blair looked obviously shaken and we were glued to the updates of the injured and dead. I called several people in the US to make sure they knew I was alright and pass on the message, and called my Dad to try and arrange transport back to his place.

And yet the thing that sticks out in my mind more than anything? The production of a t-shirt with a simple slogan.

There was no weeping in the streets, no wailing and gnashing of teeth and gibbering about ebil terrorists. Just snarky humor, a cup of tea and a nice biscuit. After the shock wore off, there was indignation, sarcasm and unwavering city-wide -- and national -- pride.

Us Londoners? We're unmoveable. And fuck if any terrorist bastards think they can bring us down. I may be in LA now, and I may be partway to becoming a US citizen, but I will always be a Londoner at heart.