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Mason Wells Survived 3 Terrorist Attacks. He Credits God’s Protection.

December 22, 2017
Staff

WRITER

At just 19 years old, Mason Wells survived a terrorist attack … for the third time. Wells recently joined Glenn to talk about his incredible survivor story and his faith, as detailed in his new book, “Left Standing: The Miraculous Story of How Mason Wells’s Faith Survived the Boston, Paris, and Brussels Terror Attacks.”

A Mormon missionary, Wells was injured in the bombing at the Brussels airport in 2016, sustaining a ruptured Achilles tendon, injuries from shrapnel and second- and third-degree burns. He also survived the Boston Marathon bombing, waiting with his dad just a block away from the explosion, and was in France at the time of the Paris attacks.

“I actually thought I had died when the first bomb went off,” Wells said of the Brussels attack. “You’re standing there for a moment, and then suddenly, everything explodes.”

This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

GLENN: I want to introduce you to a guy named Mason Wells. Mason was an Eagle Scout and awarded a trip to Paris, France. He served as a missionary over in -- in France.

He's now in the United States Naval Academy. But I'm not talking to him about those things. That's not what got our attention. What got our attention is Mason Wells is a guy that happened to be at the Boston bombing, the Paris terrorist attack, and was significantly injured in the Brussels attack.

I don't know if of anybody else -- I mean, besides people who might have been involved, were at all three locations. And I can't imagine what it must feel like and how many times you must say, why me? There's a new book out. Authored by Mason and a good friend of the program, Billy Hallowell, called left standing. And it's about his faith and what he's gone through. Mason, welcome to the program.

MASON: Yeah. Thank you so much for having me, Glenn.

GLENN: So, you know, we were talking about this. And, you know, it's one of the reasons why we wanted to have you on the phone and not here at the studio.

(laughter)

You have really bad luck. Tell me about -- tell me about being in three terrorist attacks.

MASON: Oh, I think I actually have pretty good luck, that I'm still here.

My first experience with terrorism would be the 2013 Boston Marathon. And my mom was running the marathon. Me and my dad were there to support her. And me and my dad were actually 50 meters away when the first bomb went off at the finish line. So being young at the time, that was scary for me.

Fast forward, now I'm now serving as an ecclesiastical missionary in France. And I was actually in the city of Rouen at the time of the Charlie Hebdo shootings and then in the city of Calais at the time of the Paris attacks. And to have those things go on, in, you know, the headquarters of our mission. A place that we always were on the streets that we proselyted. It left me with a lot of questions and a lot of reflections.

And I was ten feet away when the first bomb went off in the Brussels Airport. And that -- that one there put me in the hospital for a good two months.

GLENN: Yeah, we saw you -- we saw pictures of you all wrapped up. You had third degree burns to your face.

Your leg had some contraption, you know, trying to piece it back together. You were seriously injured there.

What was going through your head?

MASON: Well, when I was first injured in Brussels, I actually thought I had died when the first bomb went off. If you can imagine standing there for a moment and suddenly everything explodes. That's what happened to me. And I didn't know what was going on.

When I opened up my eyes, a couple seconds after the blast and looked around, there was no one standing but me. Everyone else had been knocked down to the floor. My friends had been knocked out. And I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of me.

So I made my way out of that airport, one step after another, on a ruptured Achilles' tendon, completely severed, with shrapnel in my legs, burns in my hands and my face. When I got out of the airport, my leg collapsed. I was kind of faced with, you know, these two roads in front of me. I could either embrace bitterness, embrace anger, embrace frustration, or make the best of what was going on and choose to have hope that I would come out of this all right, and I chose the latter. So I was faced with a very bleak future. You know, quite literally laying in a pool of my own blood on that sidewalk, but through the grace of God and through some mental decisions I made, I'm still here.

GLENN: So what was the -- what was the darkest moment here? Did you have a -- did you have a real struggle in faith, or were you -- were you prepared spiritually to meet some of these things?

MASON: Well, I think God prepares all of us for things in our life. I was blessed that day to be comforted when I was injured. But I did experience a lot of things afterwards, that led me to questions about my faith. And led me to develop a deeper faith. It prompts me to ask, you know, why do bad things happen to good people? Where is justice in all of this? What is God's plan for me? And those sorts of questions, those questions of the soul, they're things that take time.

And some of my reflections, of course, are in the book. But a lot of what I've learned about adversity and getting through trials came during my darkest moments. And there definitely were those dark moments.

GLENN: So what did you come to -- you know, what was the conclusion? You know, why is this happening? Why does God -- you know, where is God? I mean, you're serving a mission. You're blown up. And if I'm not mistaken, weren't you going home? Weren't you on your way home?

MASON: I was about four months away. So I was pretty close.

GLENN: So what was the conclusion? Why does God let this happen?

MASON: Well, you know, I've asked myself many times why God allows this to happen to me and why I'm alive when other people that were farther away from the bomb were killed. But ultimately, I've come to find out for myself that God allows adversity to happen in our lives, knowing that it will make us stronger. Knowing that we have a chance to come out on top, to allow these things to change for the better or for the worse. One thing I've learned for sure is that God is there when we're willing to -- to look for him and ask for his help. And ultimately, choosing to have hope amid the challenges in our lives, is the difference between finding peace and being bitter on what is going on. Honestly, I think just having a positive attitude. Making every single day a new day and realizing that every single chance is a chance for me to change. That mindset is what carried me through to my recovery. And I can positively say the line that divides success from failure is attitude, much more than it is outcome.

GLENN: So I just told the story yesterday about Corrie ten Boom who had a hard time forgiving and extending love to the people that, you know -- in particular, one of the guys who was a guard in the showers.

And she really, really had a hard time after the war forgiving him and loving him.

Did you -- did you have -- how do you feel about the people that, you know, have brought so much death and destruction?

MASON: You know, that's -- that's a deep question. That's a good question. Ultimately, I have forgiven people who did this to me. But it doesn't make what they did permissible. I actually prayed to God for them, that God would have mercy on them. But I know very well that God is a God of mercy and a God of justice. And I hope they can go on living in the next life, the best they can, given the guilt that they will undoubtedly bear. But, you know, that just being said, just because I forgive them, it doesn't make what they did okay. It's not permissible to do these things. It's the epitome of evil. What they did was evil. And I think that you can embrace forgiveness and also draw a hard line between good and bad.

STU: Mason, if you were to win an all expenses paid vacation, would anyone go with you?

GLENN: Besides Tom Hanks.

MASON: You know, as crazy as it sounds, I'm not scared to travel the world. I'm not scared to take public transportation.

GLENN: That wasn't the question. The question is: Is anyone else comfortable with you being around?

(laughter)

MASON: I mean, you know, if you were to give me an all expenses paid trip to Indonesia, I don't know if I would go there right now.

GLENN: All right.

MASON: You know, we can't let these things hold us back. We can't let these moments and these acts define our lives.

GLENN: Did you at any time have a moment where you're like, I'm -- I'm cursed or I'm -- there's something wrong, or what am I doing wrong? Or I'm afraid to go places? Was there any time that that started to happen to you?

MASON: Well, I have to admit, there was a time, I think it was about three days after I was injured in Brussels. But I was sitting in bed, and I just looked up and I just asked, you know, really, again? Like, I guess I didn't learn what I needed to the first time.

GLENN: Right. Okay. You're clearly telling me something. What is it?

MASON: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. So, you know -- obviously, you know, I thought about -- I choose to focus less on the path as to why these things happen, and focus more on the future. Just making every single day a great day and making every single day a day I want it to be. Because you know I'm still here, and I'm grateful to be alive.

GLENN: Mason Wells. Author of Left Standing. Thank you so much. Best of luck.

MASON: Yeah. Thank you so much for having me, Glenn.

GLENN: Alert me, if you're ever on a flight and you see me -- alert me, I need to get off.

MASON: Will do. Will do.

GLENN: Thanks a lot, Mason. Merry Christmas.

STU: The book is Left Standing. The miraculous story of how Mason Wells' faith survived the Boston, Paris, and Brussels terror attacks.

It's an amazing story.

GLENN: What? Osama bin Laden survived all of them.

STU: Well, no, he didn't. He didn't actually.

GLENN: You're right.

STU: But, yeah. That's an amazing story. The Brussels -- there's been so many of these attacks by largely Islamic extremists around the world. But the 2016 Brussels bombings, 32 killed. Over 300 injured. You'll remember the -- the security camera tape. The guys walking through the airport.

GLENN: Yeah.

STU: But, I mean, there's been so many of these, particularly in Europe. And it's amazing that this --

GLENN: 10 feet away from the bomb.

STU: Yeah. And ISIS did claim responsibility for that. Afterwards, to be able to muster the strength of will to -- to forgive ISIS, while obviously acknowledging what they do is not right. It's an amazing story. It's Left Standing.

Why do Americans feel so empty?

Mario Tama / Staff | Getty Images

Anxiety, anger, and chronic dissatisfaction signal a country searching for meaning. Without truth and purpose, politics becomes a dangerous substitute for identity.

We have built a world overflowing with noise, convenience, and endless choice, yet something essential has slipped out of reach. You can sense it in the restless mood of the country, the anxiety among young people who cannot explain why they feel empty, in the angry confusion that dominates our politics.

We have more wealth than any nation in history, but the heart of the culture feels strangely malnourished. Before we can debate debt or elections, we must confront the reality that we created a world of things, but not a world of purpose.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

What we are living through is not just economic or political dysfunction. It is the vacuum that appears when a civilization mistakes abundance for meaning.

Modern life is stuffed with everything except what the human soul actually needs. We built systems to make life faster, easier, and more efficient — and then wondered why those systems cannot teach our children who they are, why they matter, or what is worth living for.

We tell the next generation to chase success, influence, and wealth, turning childhood into branding. We ask kids what they want to do, not who they want to be. We build a world wired for dopamine rather than dignity, and then we wonder why so many people feel unmoored.

When everything is curated, optimized, and delivered at the push of a button, the question “what is my life for?” gets lost in the static.

The crisis beneath the headlines

It is not just the young who feel this crisis. Every part of our society is straining under the weight of meaninglessness.

Look at the debt cycle — the mathematical fate no civilization has ever escaped once it crosses a threshold that we seem to have already blown by. While ordinary families feel the pressure, our leaders respond with distraction, with denial, or by rewriting the very history that could have warned us.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

We have entered a cultural moment where the noise is so loud that it drowns out the simplest truths. We are living in a country that no longer knows how to hear itself think.

So people go searching. Some drift toward the false promise of socialism, some toward the empty thrill of rebellion. Some simply check out. When a culture forgets what gives life meaning, it becomes vulnerable to every ideology that offers a quick answer.

The quiet return of meaning

And yet, quietly, something else is happening. Beneath the frustration and cynicism, many Americans are recognizing that meaning does not come from what we own, but from what we honor. It does not rise from success, but from virtue. It does not emerge from noise, but from the small, sacred things that modern life has pushed to the margins — the home, the table, the duty you fulfill, the person you help when no one is watching.

The danger is assuming that this rediscovery happens on its own. It does not.

Reorientation requires intention. It requires rebuilding the habits and virtues that once held us together. It requires telling the truth about our history instead of rewriting it to fit today’s narratives. And it requires acknowledging what has been erased: that meaning is inseparable from God’s presence in a nation’s life.

Harold M. Lambert / Contributor | Getty Images

Where renewal begins

We have built a world without stillness, and then we wondered why no one can hear the questions that matter. Those questions remain, whether we acknowledge them or not. They do not disappear just because we drown them in entertainment or noise. They wait for us, and the longer we ignore them, the more disoriented we become.

Meaning is still available. It is found in rebuilding the smallest, most human spaces — the places that cannot be digitized, globalized, or automated. The home. The family. The community.

These are the daily virtues that do not trend on social media, but that hold a civilization upright. If we want to repair this country, we begin there, exactly where every durable civilization has always begun: one virtue at a time, one tradition at a time, one generation at a time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A break in trust: A NEW Watergate is brewing in plain sight

Gary Hershorn / Contributor | Getty Images

When institutions betray the public’s trust, the country splits, and the spiral is hard to stop.

Something drastic is happening in American life. Headlines that should leave us stunned barely register anymore. Stories that once would have united the country instead dissolve into silence or shrugs.

It is not apathy exactly. It is something deeper — a growing belief that the people in charge either cannot or will not fix what is broken.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf.

I call this response the Bubba effect. It describes what happens when institutions lose so much public trust that “Bubba,” the average American minding his own business, finally throws his hands up and says, “Fine. I will handle it myself.” Not because he wants to, but because the system that was supposed to protect him now feels indifferent, corrupt, or openly hostile.

The Bubba effect is not a political movement. It is a survival instinct.

What triggers the Bubba effect

We are watching the triggers unfold in real time. When members of Congress publicly encourage active duty troops to disregard orders from the commander in chief, that is not a political squabble. When a federal judge quietly rewrites the rules so one branch of government can secretly surveil another, that is not normal. That is how republics fall. Yet these stories glided across the news cycle without urgency, without consequence, without explanation.

When the American people see the leadership class shrug, they conclude — correctly — that no one is steering the ship.

This is how the Bubba effect spreads. It is not just individuals resisting authority. It is sheriffs refusing to enforce new policies, school boards ignoring state mandates, entire communities saying, “We do not believe you anymore.” It becomes institutional, cultural, national.

A country cracking from the inside

This effect can be seen in Dearborn, Michigan. In the rise of fringe voices like Nick Fuentes. In the Epstein scandal, where powerful people could not seem to locate a single accountable adult. These stories are different in content but identical in message: The system protects itself, not you.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf. That does not mean they suddenly agree with everything that person says. It means they feel abandoned by the institutions that were supposed to be trustworthy.

The Bubba effect is what fills that vacuum.

The dangers of a faithless system

A republic cannot survive without credibility. Congress cannot oversee intelligence agencies if it refuses to discipline its own members. The military cannot remain apolitical if its chain of command becomes optional. The judiciary cannot defend the Constitution while inventing loopholes that erase the separation of powers.

History shows that once a nation militarizes politics, normalizes constitutional shortcuts, or allows government agencies to operate without scrutiny, it does not return to equilibrium peacefully. Something will give.

The question is what — and when.

The responsibility now belongs to us

In a healthy country, this is where the media steps in. This is where universities, pastors, journalists, and cultural leaders pause the outrage machine and explain what is at stake. But today, too many see themselves not as guardians of the republic, but of ideology. Their first loyalty is to narrative, not truth.

The founders never trusted the press more than the public. They trusted citizens who understood their rights, lived their responsibilities, and demanded accountability. That is the antidote to the Bubba effect — not rage, but citizenship.

How to respond without breaking ourselves

Do not riot. Do not withdraw. Do not cheer on destruction just because you dislike the target. That is how nations lose themselves. Instead, demand transparency. Call your representatives. Insist on consequences. Refuse to normalize constitutional violations simply because “everyone does it.” If you expect nothing, you will get nothing.

Do not hand your voice to the loudest warrior simply because he is swinging a bat at the establishment. You do not beat corruption by joining a different version of it. You beat it by modeling the country you want to preserve: principled, accountable, rooted in truth.

Adam Gray / Stringer | Getty Images

Every republic reaches a moment when historians will later say, “That was the warning.” We are living in ours. But warnings are gifts if they are recognized. Institutions bend. People fail. The Constitution can recover — if enough Americans still know and cherish it.

It does not take a majority. Twenty percent of the country — awake, educated, and courageous — can reset the system. It has happened before. It can happen again.

Wake up. Stand up. Demand integrity — from leaders, from institutions, and from yourself. Because the Bubba effect will not end until Americans reclaim the duty that has always belonged to them: preserving the republic for the next generation.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Grim warning: Bad-faith Israel critics duck REAL questions

Spencer Platt / Staff | Getty Images

Bad-faith attacks on Israel and AIPAC warp every debate. Real answers emerge only when people set aside scripts and ask what serves America’s long-term interests.

The search for truth has always required something very much in short supply these days: honesty. Not performative questions, not scripted outrage, not whatever happens to be trending on TikTok, but real curiosity.

Some issues, often focused on foreign aid, AIPAC, or Israel, have become hotbeds of debate and disagreement. Before we jump into those debates, however, we must return to a simpler, more important issue: honest questioning. Without it, nothing in these debates matters.

Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

The phrase “just asking questions” has re-entered the zeitgeist, and that’s fine. We should always question power. But too many of those questions feel preloaded with someone else’s answer. If the goal is truth, then the questions should come from a sincere desire to understand, not from a hunt for a villain.

Honest desire for truth is the only foundation that can support a real conversation about these issues.

Truth-seeking is real work

Right now, plenty of people are not seeking the truth at all. They are repeating something they heard from a politician on cable news or from a stranger on TikTok who has never opened a history book. That is not a search for answers. That is simply outsourcing your own thought.

If you want the truth, you need to work for it. You cannot treat the world like a Marvel movie where the good guy appears in a cape and the villain hisses on command. Real life does not give you a neat script with the moral wrapped up in two hours.

But that is how people are approaching politics now. They want the oppressed and the oppressor, the heroic underdog and the cartoon villain. They embrace this fantastical framing because it is easier than wrestling with reality.

This framing took root in the 1960s when the left rebuilt its worldview around colonizers and the colonized. Overnight, Zionism was recast as imperialism. Suddenly, every conflict had to fit the same script. Today’s young activists are just recycling the same narrative with updated graphics. Everything becomes a morality play. No nuance, no context, just the comforting clarity of heroes and villains.

Bad-faith questions

This same mindset is fueling the sudden obsession with Israel, and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee in particular. You hear it from members of Congress and activists alike: AIPAC pulls the strings, AIPAC controls the government, AIPAC should register as a foreign agent under the Foreign Agents Registration Act. The questions are dramatic, but are they being asked in good faith?

FARA is clear. The standard is whether an individual or group acts under the direction or control of a foreign government. AIPAC simply does not qualify.

Here is a detail conveniently left out of these arguments: Dozens of domestic organizations — Armenian, Cuban, Irish, Turkish — lobby Congress on behalf of other countries. None of them registers under FARA because — like AIPAC — they are independent, domestic organizations.

If someone has a sincere problem with the structure of foreign lobbying, fair enough. Let us have that conversation. But singling out AIPAC alone is not a search for truth. It is bias dressed up as bravery.

Anadolu / Contributor | Getty Images

If someone wants to question foreign aid to Israel, fine. Let’s have that debate. But let’s ask the right questions. The issue is not the size of the package but whether the aid advances our interests. What does the United States gain? Does the investment strengthen our position in the region? How does it compare to what we give other nations? And do we examine those countries with the same intensity?

The real target

These questions reflect good-faith scrutiny. But narrowing the entire argument to one country or one dollar amount misses the larger problem. If someone objects to the way America handles foreign aid, the target is not Israel. The target is the system itself — an entrenched bureaucracy, poor transparency, and decades-old commitments that have never been re-examined. Those problems run through programs around the world.

If you want answers, you need to broaden the lens. You have to be willing to put aside the movie script and confront reality. You have to hold yourself to a simple rule: Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

That is the only way this country ever gets clarity on foreign aid, influence, alliances, and our place in the world. Questioning is not just allowed. It is essential. But only if it is honest.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A nation unravels when its shared culture is the first thing to go

Spencer Platt / Staff | Getty Images

Texas now hosts Quran-first academies, Sharia-compliant housing schemes, and rapidly multiplying mosques — all part of a movement building a self-contained society apart from the country around it.

It is time to talk honestly about what is happening inside America’s rapidly growing Muslim communities. In city after city, large pockets of newcomers are choosing to build insulated enclaves rather than enter the broader American culture.

That trend is accelerating, and the longer we ignore it, the harder it becomes to address.

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world.

America has always welcomed people of every faith and people from every corner of the world, but the deal has never changed: You come here and you join the American family. You are free to honor your traditions, keep your faith, but you must embrace the Constitution as the supreme law of the land. You melt into the shared culture that allows all of us to live side by side.

Across the country, this bargain is being rejected by Islamist communities that insist on building a parallel society with its own rules, its own boundaries, and its own vision for how life should be lived.

Texas illustrates the trend. The state now has roughly 330 mosques. At least 48 of them were built in just the last 24 months. The Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex alone has around 200 Islamic centers. Houston has another hundred or so. Many of these communities have no interest in blending into American life.

This is not the same as past waves of immigration. Irish, Italian, Korean, Mexican, and every other group arrived with pride in their heritage. Still, they also raised American flags and wanted their children to be part of the country’s future. They became doctors, small-business owners, teachers, and soldiers. They wanted to be Americans.

What we are watching now is not the melting pot. It is isolation by design.

Parallel societies do not end well

More than 300 fundamentalist Islamic schools now operate full-time across the country. Many use Quran-first curricula that require students to spend hours memorizing religious texts before they ever reach math or science. In Dallas, Brighter Horizons Academy enrolls more than 1,700 students and draws federal support while operating on a social model that keeps children culturally isolated.

Then there is the Epic City project in Collin and Hunt counties — 402 acres originally designated only for Muslim buyers, with Sharia-compliant financing and a mega-mosque at the center. After public outcry and state investigations, the developers renamed it “The Meadows,” but a new sign does not erase the original intent. It is not a neighborhood. It is a parallel society.

Americans should not hesitate to say that parallel societies are dangerous. Europe tried this experiment, and the results could not be clearer. In Germany, France, and the United Kingdom, entire neighborhoods now operate under their own cultural rules, some openly hostile to Western norms. When citizens speak up, they are branded bigots for asserting a basic right: the ability to live safely in their own communities.

A crisis of confidence

While this separation widens, another crisis is unfolding at home. A recent Gallup survey shows that about 40% of American women ages 18 to 39 would leave the country permanently if given the chance. Nearly half of a rising generation — daughters, sisters, soon-to-be mothers — no longer believe this nation is worth building a future in.

And who shapes the worldview of young boys? Their mothers. If a mother no longer believes America is home, why would her child grow up ready to defend it?

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world. If we lose confidence in our own national identity at the same time that we allow separatist enclaves to spread unchecked, the outcome is predictable. Europe is already showing us what comes next: cultural fracture, political radicalization, and the slow death of national unity.

Brandon Bell / Staff | Getty Images

Stand up and tell the truth

America welcomes Muslims. America defends their right to worship freely. A Muslim who loves the Constitution, respects the rule of law, and wants to raise a family in peace is more than welcome in America.

But an Islamist movement that rejects assimilation, builds enclaves governed by its own religious framework, and treats American law as optional is not simply another participant in our melting pot. It is a direct challenge to it. If we refuse to call this problem out out of fear of being called names, we will bear the consequences.

Europe is already feeling those consequences — rising conflict and a political class too paralyzed to admit the obvious. When people feel their culture, safety, and freedoms slipping away, they will follow anyone who promises to defend them. History has shown that over and over again.

Stand up. Speak plainly. Be unafraid. You can practice any faith in this country, but the supremacy of the Constitution and the Judeo-Christian moral framework that shaped it is non-negotiable. It is what guarantees your freedom in the first place.

If you come here and honor that foundation, welcome. If you come here to undermine it, you do not belong here.

Wake up to what is unfolding before the consequences arrive. Because when a nation refuses to say what is true, the truth eventually forces its way in — and by then, it is always too late.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.