Because they are engraved in the deepest part of our hearts, there are wounds that will never heal: the deportation to the death camps, the handshake at Montoire, the Vel d’Hiv, many others in our contemporary history… These are dates that have become symbolic, appointments as dark as the events they recall regularly each year, with the cruelty of Chinese tortures.
Until last year, July 14th was the storming of the Bastille, liberty conquered, a national communion, a promise of living together for better days. It was a celebration, the yellow jersey of the Tour de France, the taste of cotton candy. It was the light of summer, the joy of children amazed by the fireworks rockets. The outings with friends, the “popu” village dances, the sausages from the barbecues generously washed down with rosé until the end of the night.
It was another era.
This date, this symbol was irrevocably stained by the blood of the 86 victims and the 450 injured from the Promenade. Behind these monstrous figures are children, women, entire families, locals from Nice, and foreign tourists, whose lives were taken unjustly, abominably. They are our fathers, our mothers, our babies, our cousins, our friends, our neighbors, our siblings, regardless of their political beliefs, their faiths. They were there to enjoy an evening that should have been beautiful and carefree.
There was a time before July 14th. Now there is the time after July 14th, the days of sorrow following this unimaginable, revolting nightmare, which compels us to remember, out of respect for our departed angels, whose only “fault” was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shattered destinies.
Now is the time for tribute. The President of the Republic has come to Nice. He has met with families, those who provided help. With incredible courage, anonymous people reacted in a human and fraternal way, exactly what those who kill blindly cannot understand.
Today, a year later, children swim in the blue sea, devour ice creams. Orchestras play on terraces. Girls are tanned and lightly dressed.
Life has resumed its seemingly frivolous course like a summer festival.
Living is what the victims wanted, quite simply. It is what we owe them today.
Jean-Michel Chevalier, Les Petites Affiches
