Boston Marathon Vet: 'You Have to Go Back. You Can’t End It on This Type of Thing.'

For the 35th consecutive year, Rev. Bob Malm participated Monday in the Boston Marathon.

Thirty-five consecutive years was supposed to be a good stopping point for "an old guy like me," he said, but this week's marathon—one marred by two bombs that killed three people and injured close to 150—just isn't the way to end it. 

“You have to go back," he said. "You can’t end it on this type of thing."

The rector of Grace Episcopal Church on Russell Road grew up in New Bedford, MA, an hour south of Boston. He worked for a time at a church in Boston, met his wife there and later made the marathon an annual tradition for his family—even after moving to Alexandria.

The Del Ray resident’s two daughters, Jessica and Lindsey, joined him Monday in the race field. Lindsey was making her sixth appearance in the marathon, while Jessica was participating for the first time. 

Leslie Malm, Bob’s wife and the mother of his daughters, collected Jessica and Lindsey's cell phones and later waited for them near the finish line along Boylston Street. Malm's daughters were less than a mile away from the finish line when the bombs went off.

“I’ve been running the marathon a long time,” Bob Malm said. “She’s been there when the kids were in strollers and when the kids have run it from Heartbreak Hill with me. It’s kind of a big family deal.”

Outside of Town

Malm wasn't able to train for this year's race but wanted to see how far he could push it. He surprised himself by reaching 16.5 miles before dropping out.

That distance placed him roughly 8 miles outside of Boston when two improvised explosive devices detonated within 13 seconds of each other near the race’s finish line.

Leslie was in the thick of it.

Knowing his wife always bided her time near the finish line on marathon days, Malm was immediately concerned.

He was eventually able to contact Leslie, about 30 hectic minutes after the explosions. She was near the second bomb when it detonated. Some people around her were badly injured.

Though she did not suffer any serious physical injury, her hearing was temporarily impaired following the explosion. She was taking refuge in a restaurant when Malm contacted her.

“She was pretty hysterical,” Malm said. “She asked if I had seen the girls. I said, ‘I haven’t seen the girls, but if you haven’t seen them then they haven’t made it [to the finish line] yet.”

Their daughters were on the race course about three-tenths of a mile from the finish when the bombs went off. Jessica’s husband, Dan Farmer, met her on the course near Heartbreak Hill. They were not allowed to finish the race after it was suspended.

Family Reunion

Later in the day, the family met at Cheers on Beacon Hill, the bar formerly called The Bull and Finch Pub that served as the exterior for the 1980s NBC sitcom “Cheers.”

Bob Malm took Leslie to The Bull and Finch on their first date. A short walk from the marathon finish, the family always used the bar has their post-race meeting point.

Monday’s rendezvous provided a different type of memory for the family.

“There was great hugging, crying, it felt so blessed,” said Malm, who eventually caught a ride back into Boston with someone who was also staying in the same hotel as his family. “It took a couple hours, but to know everyone was safe, we were just very thankful.”

Another Day

Malm said he’s never experienced anything like Monday, but it did recall another grave day.

He was teaching religion class at Grace Episcopal School on Sept. 11, 2001, when a hijacked plane struck the Pentagon killing 125, including two of members of his church's parish.

Malm said he vividly remembers that day, the sound of the explosions and the sirens from just a few miles away.

“It was another beautiful, sunny day and something you don’t expect to see or witness or experience,” Malm said. “[Monday’s incident] was much closer to home. My wife was right there. Some people around her are very hurt.”

Malm said it could be tough to return to Boston for the marathon next spring. He thinks his girls would like to go back to finish the race.

“I don’t think my wife… she can’t imagine standing at the same place," he said. "There are a lot of questions about how they can secure this kind of place. … You see those state troopers with machine guns and it’s just pretty surreal.”