the worst accidents happen at home

Tonight I realized how proud I am that Fenway Park has become for me one of those places that’s comfortable, like home. I like knowing where the one concession that sells Deli sandwiches is, or knowing where the least crowded ladies room would be. I like how the crowd will predicatbly sing along to “Sweet Caroline” and boo the Yankees. Still, tonight was a little different. For one thing, there were Peas,

and Stones,

and maybe between old favorites like “Shattered” and “She’s So Cold” we had to pinch ourselves once or twice to remind us that yes, this was the Rolling Stones, in our beloved Fenway Park.

It still came as a shock a shock to see, in such familiar surroundings, the quite unfamiliar sight of someone crawling on those 90+ year old rafters under the right field roof. As security and police scrambled underneath her, she settled on a spot closest to the stage,

I confess that after I took this picture, my photojournalist’s hat fell off. I found myself fearfully looking away when she moved towards the edge of the overhang but glancing back in time to see her lose her grip and fall, as those of us in the nearby sections shrieked in terror. For the rest of the evening, I was stunned: how could this happen in our house?

UPDATE: According to a story on, the woman sustained two broken ankles and a broken wrist, so it looks like she’s going to be OK, and it’s now safe to ridicule both her stupidity and her buttcrack.

UPDATE #2: A few more photos now on flickr.

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