The Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building In Oklahoma City

 Since this is Easter weekend, it seems a fitting time to reflect on the event fifteen years ago this month that changed the way America viewed terrorism.

On the 19th of April, the citizens of Oklahoma City will pause to remember as we do every year the 168 souls who lost their lives in an instant on that date in 1995.   I dare say every person in the Oklahoma City area can tell you exactly where they were when the explosion occurred at exactly 9:02 a.m. that day.  The sound could be heard as far away as Yukon, which is where I lived at that time.  That was a distance of some twenty miles from Ground Zero.

I, however, did not hear it as I was in my car with the radio playing on my way to report for my first day of work at a new job.  I had decided after nine years of constant travel with my previous job as an insurance agent that I had to find employment that did not require the kind of travel that I had been doing.

I had begun to experience circulation problems in my legs, causing them to tingle and go numb from the years behind the wheel.   I had been fortunate enough to find a position with a company which sold insurance plans to people which locked in the cost of their funeral plan at the price at the time they bought it as well as allowed them to select in advance the type of casket, vault, and service they desired.

I was going to be representing Paylor Funeral Home in Midwest City where I would be officing.  That morning I was meeting with the sales director for SCI, which owned most of the funeral homes in Oklahoma City to begin my training. (More on that job in my next post).

When I arrived about 9:30,  he and his assistant were glued to the television set. The local television media were reporting that an explosion had occurred from possibly a faulty gas leak and that there were multiple casualties.  

In less than an hour we knew that it was not a gas leak but an apparent truck bomb.  People were shocked.  This was the kind of thing that happened in places like Beirut--but not in Oklahoma City, a quiet mid-size city in the heart of the nation.

Terrorism was a new creature then to Americans and especially on American soil. Speculation was rampant with newscasters discussing everything from an attack by Middle Easterners to some association with the Waco incident, which had happened two years ago to the day.

 

A Photographer shot this picture of a fireman carrying the lifeless body of little Baylee Alman from the wreckage.   When the wire services picked it up and flashed it around the world, it galvanized not only the nation but the world and suddenly people and money began pouring in to help the victims and to aid in the rescue and recovery of survivors and bodies. The photo later won a Pulitizer Award. 

Buildings throughout downtown Oklahoma City were damaged, causing multiple businesses to have to close, because of  blown-out windows as well as other structural damage.  However, not one incident of looting was reported; and during the entire time that the rescuers were recovering the dead not one crime occurred in Oklahoma City.

The Murrah Building is long gone.  In its place now is the beautiful Oklahoma City Memorial honoring those who died on that hallowed ground.  Each year hundreds of thousands tour the memorial which is part of the National Park Service that oversees its upkeep.

The focal point of the Memorial is the 168 empty chairs with the names of each man, woman and the 19 children who died that day engraved on one of the chairs.

The reflecting pool directly inside the memorial.  The chairs and the memorial building can be seen to the right in the background.

Directly across the street from the entrance to the museum is a statue of Jesus with his back turned away from the horror with the simple inscription, "Jesus wept."

 


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