While the firemen were carrying me on a wheeled office chair out of the conference room, I found myself floating over the bodies of my dead colleagues, Bernard, Tignous, Cabu, Georges, bodies that my rescuers were stepping over or around, and suddenly, my God, they were no longer laughing. We must all be able to laugh again, understand again, more and better than ever before, for their sake…
Philippe Lacon, a survivor of the massacre at Charlie Hebdo, wrote a first-hand account of the tragedy. The New York Review of Books has a translation.
