This is TALK OF THE NATION. I'm Neal Conan, in Washington. Too many of those injured in Boston last Monday lost limbs in the explosion and now face a long and difficult recovery. Because the pressure-cooker bombs were in bags placed on the sidewalk, the shrapnel maimed and shredded many people's legs. Their basic challenge, of course, is to walk again. But the physical, mental and emotional process stretches far beyond those first steps.
This is TALK OF THE NATION. I'm Neal Conan in Washington. And now it's time for the Opinion Page. Investigators in the Boston Marathon bombings used all kinds of images to identify the suspects in Boston: pictures from cell phones, portable video recorders and from TV. But the most useful came from surveillance cameras placed to monitor public places like the entrance to the Lord and Taylor department store and Forum Restaurant.
Dr. Barbara Natterson-Horowitz, a cardiologist at the UCLA Medical Center, coined the term "zoobiquity" to describe the idea of looking to animals and the doctors who care for them to better understand human health. Veterinary medicine had not been on her radar at all until about 10 years ago. That's when she was asked to join the medical advisory board for the Los Angeles Zoo and she began hearing about "congestive heart failure in a gorilla or leukemia in a rhinoceros or breast cancer in a tiger or a lion."
Mayor Thomas Menino, who is recovering from a broken leg unrelated to the bombing, watches on as President Obama speaks during an interfaith healing service last week following the Boston Marathon blasts.
Tucson Mayor Bob Walkup poses with then-U.S. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords during a Salvation Army fundraiser about a year before she was shot in the head.
Credit Brandi Jade Thomas / AP
Minneapolis Mayor R.T. Rybak and President George W. Bush tour an area near a collapsed interstate bridge, which left 13 people dead in 2007.
It's lunchtime in the heart of Sao Paulo's financial district. Surrounded by tall buildings of cool glass and steel, men and women in suits and business attire walk back and forth busily in Brazil's largest city.
Standing amid the bustle is Leticia Matos — who is, for want of a better word, a crochet artist. She couldn't look more different from the people around her.
Wearing a short-sleeve shirt and covered in bright, quirky tattoos, Matos is at work, too. About a year ago, she says, she got the idea for her project while knitting and crocheting with her friends.