#CharlieHebdo

Yesterday was an awful day, a day which I would have been happy to have never seen the likes of. 

I woke up much earlier than usual to head to a morning meeting, and saw the screaming headlines about the gruesome, cruel murders of 12 people at Charlie Hebdo in Paris. My Paris. The very Paris which had done so much to advance the cause of freedom.

I left for my meeting at the Montreal Gazette in a daze. Walked up the escalator in a daze. Entered the newsroom and on towards the back, in a daze.

The Gazette has a security guard at the desk - but how much security is that? How much security is really enough to protect yourself against people who are committed to killing and are armed with the equipment and determination to make it happen?

I would say, there isn't enough security in the world to guarantee safety.

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I headed out early to the 5 pm vigil organized by Mayor Denis Coderre, determined to get a spot in the front. I was one of the first people there, and ever-so-grateful for the two large outdoor fireplaces set up by the city to keep attendees warm. Even more grateful, when considering I didn't see the need to wear longjohns.

Once the ceremony began, I was startled by how moved I was. I'd spent all day obsessively following the news on Twitter, rushing to get out the Montreal Press Club's condemnation of the attacks, trying to stay on top of all the latest developments. But I hadn't been hit by the enormity of what had happened that awful morning until I heard journalists around me in front of City Hall start chanting, "Je suis Charlie." 

I started sobbing. And couldn't stop. The impromptu chant was followed by a rendition of "La Marseillaise". I don't know the words. I didn't need to, because there was no way I could have caught my tears enough to be able to sing. 

I had had plans to attend the 6:30 vigil in front of the French Consulate on Rue McGill, but I couldn't. The emotion was too strong, too overwhelming, and I desperately needed to go home.

But when I saw the photos of the massive turnout on Rue McGill, in -31C windchill, the tears started all over again. I've never been prouder of Montreal.  Or how touched I am by their determination, in that awful, horrific cold, to show their solidarity with Parisians on that night.

Nous sommes tous Charlie. Let us never forget the value of freedom of expression.

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