My Best Friend Firebombed My Home. So I Made a Life-Changing Decision

Fifty years ago, Boston changed overnight. For me, that transformation came in the form of a firebomb hurled at my family’s home in East Boston.
We were the first Black family to move into the Maverick Projects, and I was a typical teenager—an athlete, a good student, member of the Salesian Boys club, and proud to be at East Boston High.
East Boston was more than just a neighborhood; it was my home.
But in 1974, when Judge W. Arthur Garrity ordered the desegregation of Boston’s public schools, the city erupted. The backlash was swift and fierce, and the divisions that split the streets of our neighborhoods also tore apart friendships.
I’ll never forget the night one of my closest friends—a boy I laughed with, played ball with, and ate dinner with more times than I can count—stood outside my house with a glass bottle stuffed with rags.
He lit it, threw it, and watched as the flames engulfed what was supposed to be my safe haven.
In an instant, the friend I thought I knew vanished, swallowed by the darkness.
And just like that, my teenage years— a time that should be about growth and self-discovery—became filled with violence and hate.
But even in that moment, I made a life-changing decision.
At 16 standing in front of my firebombed home, I promised myself that for the rest of my life, I would do work that brings people together. I wouldn’t let the hate I experienced define me or my future.
Instead, I chose to see it as a call—a call to change the narrative that divides us.
It set me on a path of youth development, activism, and leadership that has shaped who I am today. But this isn’t just my story; it’s Boston’s story.
Boston is a city of contradictions. We’re home to some of the best universities, hospitals, and innovators in the world, yet just a mile away, families struggle to make ends meet, and our young people face challenges that should be unimaginable in a place with so much promise.
Less than 20 percent of our Black and Latino third graders are reading at grade level, per the National Assessment of Educational Progress. And there’s a staggering 23-year gap in life expectancy between Roxbury, a predominantly Black neighborhood, and the Back Bay, a predominantly white neighborhood, per Boston Public Health Commission data.
These are not just statistics; they’re symptoms of a city that hasn’t yet lived up to its potential.
But my focus isn’t on the problems—it’s on the possibilities.
I’ve worked to change the conversation about what Boston’s youth can achieve. As an athlete, I was familiar with the power of sports. And as a coach, sports became my tool for change.
On the field, differences in race and background faded away. We were just a team, united by a common goal. I witnessed firsthand how sports could break down barriers and bring communities together.
This led me to starting The BASE, a nonprofit that used sports as a springboard, showing kids that they could excel not just on the field but in the classroom and beyond.
Today, I’ve come full circle, as the Nicholas President and CEO of the Boys & Girls Clubs of Boston, I’m back where it all started, leading an organization that’s committed to seeing the best in every young person, no matter where they come from.
We’re on a mission to change the narrative in the city of Boston, to show what’s possible when we invest in our youth and refuse to let zip codes or backgrounds define who they can become.
Boston has changed in many ways since that firebomb rocked my world 50 years ago. It’s been more than 50 years since the busing crisis rocked this city, and while much has changed, the journey is far from over.
But I’m hopeful because I know what Boston can be. I see it in the faces of the kids we serve every day—in their determination, their creativity, and their unshakable belief that their future is boundless.
The Boston I know is a city of opportunity, not in spite of its past, but because of what we’ve learned from it.
Together, we can make sure that the next fifty years tell a story not of division, but of hope, resilience, and a commitment to every young person’s potential.
That’s the Boston I want to build. It’s the Boston I believe we can be.
And just as Boston embarks on this journey, so too can cities across the country rise above any histories of division and create communities for our youth built on unity and progress.
Robert Lewis, Jr. is a thought leader, public speaker, and social innovator. Robert joined the Boys & Girls Clubs of Boston in 2022 and set the organization on a new strategic course with a broad focus on health, education, and workforce readiness, all essential components to a child’s holistic development. Prior to joining BGCB, Robert launched The BASE in 2013, which leverages urban youth’s passion for sports to create pathways to higher education and meaningful careers.
All views expressed are the author’s own.
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