article: But he thought it would be fun to see some old friends and he could take his five-year-old son, Gavin, along too. His fiancee Jen Regan persuaded him they'd probably want to have a beer and Gavin shouldn't miss pre-school. He agreed. That was the last piece of luck that day. When the first bomb went off, Mr Fucarile and his friends all rushed into the street. The second blast was about 4ft (1.2m) away from them. He found himself on his back, one leg on fire. He tried to get his trousers off, but got third-degree burns on his hands from touching his belt buckle. His right leg had been blown off. People started to help. They told him not to try to sit up. He knew that wasn't good. He'd once helped a guy in a car crash and remembered telling him not to move because he looked so bad. First one ambulance and then another went by. They were too full. Eventually a policeman took him to hospital. He kept thinking about his son. He had to stay alive for Gavin. The twin swing doors to the hospital opened: he was wheeled through and then he blacked out. He was in a coma for days. Someone phoned Ms Regan. The person told her to get the hospital quickly. At first she thought it was one of his friends playing a sick joke, but then she realised this was serious. She went with his brother, a policeman. He'd get her in past any security. When a doctor phoned to say Mr Fucarile had lost his leg, she threw the phone and punched the truck. She said the man in the hospital bed looked nothing like him. They are a pretty amazing couple. Together since school, childhood sweethearts. He was a roofer, she's a nurse, both Boston Irish-Italian. A long line of family in the police, military and the fire brigade. He's a regular guy, a charmer, a joker and a tease. She's tough and lovely, and says she is coping because you have to when you have family. But her smile is thin and she's rather closer to the edge than you feel happy about. They're the sort of people who tell you they're average Americans, but they're going through something extraordinary and terrible and somehow holding it together. They name-check all the people who helped them, whom they've become close to, whose acts reassure them strength and goodness can be shaped from formless horror. An online fundraising effort has garnered more than $190,000 (Â£114,000). Ms Regan says the bombers failed; the terrorists lost because of that, because Boston is strong, as the slogan goes. "You think that you can break everyone and they didn't succeed, you know? They really didn't." A lot of what they say could sound bitter in cold print - but it is not said with bitterness but resignation. They are clearly mourning a life they once had that will never return. They hope for what Ms Regan calls "a new normal" that is merely bad,
summary: Marc Fucarile didn't really want to go watch the Boston Marathon last year - he'd never been before and isn't keen on crowds.