Remembering the Oklahoma City Bombing - Where Were YOU on April 19, 1995?

Standing on the hallowed grounds of the Oklahoma City Bombing memorial conjures up some amazing feelings and images for me. It's honestly one of my favorite places to go when I'm home; there's such an overwhelming sense of peace and serenity there, which is ironic considering what took place almost 12 years ago. It seems that nowadays, even with the subsequent 9/11 tragedy, that no one remembers what happened on that fateful day. How can you forget? I surely can't. 169 people died in the worst DOMESTIC terrorist attack in United States history. (Domestic meaning the culprit was American...) On the outer walls of the memorial is the mission statement that reads: "We come here to remember those who were killed, those who survived and those changed forever. May all who leave here know the impact of violence. May this memorial offer comfort, strength, peace, hope and serenity." Since the anniversary is coming up, I thought it would be appropriate to publish my own recollections of that fateful day...

9:02am, April 19, 1995: It was a Tuesday. I was 16 years old and sitting in my Honors Anatomy/physiology class at Del City High School, in Del City, OK. Located just 5 miles from Downtown Oklahoma City, my hometown was a nice little suburb of the Oklahoma State Capitol. Just a sophomore at the time, I had no idea how much impact this date would have on my life.

Sometime around 9:30am, a secretary came into the room, breaking the monotony of lecture, and asked if anyone had friends or relatives who worked in the Alfred P. Murrah building in downtown Oklahoma City, None of us did, so she left and, I assume, went on to the next room. The bell eventually rang and we were dismissed for lunch. (We were on "new" thing at the time called a block schedule that gave us 4, approx. 80 minute, class periods a day...) Everything seemed normal about that day and, so far, we were oblivious to the tragedy that had occurred just minutes earlier.

Sometime near the end of Lunch, an alarm went off signaling a bomb threat. An announcement came on that told all who were within the building (We had an open campus and could leave school to go to lunch) to report to the adjacent Football Stadium at once.Utter chaos awaited us in the outdoor stadium, and what we thought was a routine drill turned into hours of waiting and unanswered questions. Word eventually got around that a bomb had gone off in Downtown Oklahoma City and someone had called in a bomb threat at our school. Because of what had happened in OKC, the threat was being taken VERY seriously by the school and no one was allowed to leave or enter once the gates were locked.

Finally, around 2pm, about 40 minutes before school was officially over, we were released to go home. Once I arrived home and turned on the television, I realized the true extent of what had happened that day. Oklahoma City was all over the news, both local and National. I found out a friend of mine, a ninth grader who was still at the junior high, was missing his mother who worked in the building. (She was one of the last bodies to be pulled from the wreckage.) I had several close friends who were SUPPOSED to be there that morning but because of other circumstances, ended up making other plans. Another friend actually worked in the building and, literally by the grace of God, walked away with just a few scratches while his boss, who was standing less than 3 feet away from him when the bomb went off, perished.

Just being in Oklahoma City in the aftermath of the attack impacted my life. My youth group did some volunteer work and helped sort out donations near the blast site. Driving past the downtown area at night and seeing the bright search lights illuminating the sky is something I can never forget. Hearing our President plead for all Americans to pray for Oklahoma City on NATIONAL TELEVISION was almost too much for my young mind to comprehend. Watching the people of Oklahoma City pull together and support the survivors and victim's families showed me the true meaning of being a neighbor. I have firefighter friends who assisted in the search who, to this day, cannot speak of the tragedy without tearing up. Then, finding out this was all caused because some moronic redneck didn't like how the government handled the Waco debacle the previous year, stung more than if it had been caused by some foreign terrorist. How could a so-called "Patriot" kill so many innocent people, even children?

Despite the feelings conjured up by reliving these events, I will myself to remember, faithfully, every year. I visit the memorial every chance I get and recommend it to anyone I know who visits Oklahoma City. Even though I didn't set off the bomb, I feel that forgetting what happened merely adds to the futility of those who died on that fateful day. I don't think there is a single American who could imagine a day when September 11th comes and goes without nary a mention of what happened in New York City and Washington D.C. That April 19th comes and goes, only 12 years later, and sometimes without a single word mentioned or flag held at half mast in remembrance, sickens me. Even though there isn't a whole lot that one person can do to keep the memory alive, the point is that I continue to do it. And I can only hope, having read this humble tribute, that you will, too.