April 19, 2005
those changed forever
Ten years ago, I was a graduate student at Ohio State, in Columbus Ohio. On April 19th, 1995, I was in a staff meeting, joking with my tutors about Jeff, our resident flake. Once again, Jeff was late. Oh Jeff, we laughed, what would life be like if Jeff were actually on TIME for things? And then the office phone rang, and our secretary said, ‘It’s for you, it’s Jeff.’
‘Jeff,’ I said, ‘You’re late.’
A rush of words tumbled through the phone. ‘They bombed the building! They blew a truck up right out in the street! Holy shit! I can’t believe this! They just blew up the whole fucking building!’
‘Jeff . . .’ I said, in my best adult-who-thinks-you-are-drunk-before-lunch voice. ‘WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?’
‘In Oklahoma City!’ he said. ‘OKLAHOMA CITY! They parked a truck in front of the federal building and blew it up! HOLY SHIT! I’m watching CNN–oh my god you can’t believe this.’
I held on to the edge of the secretary’s desk and struggled to understand what Jeff was saying. A bomb. In Oklahoma City. Who? I asked him. WHO blew the building up? ‘Oh my god,’ he said, ‘there were kids in the building. They just blew the whole fucking thing up.’
That one moment is still crystal clear to me. The rest of the day is a blur of television and phone calls–trying to find Wade, who was on his way to my office to tell me what had happened, trying to find Wade’s mother, in Oklahoma City, who had hidden under her desk, convinced an airplane had hit the bank where she worked, trying to find Wade’s friend Miles, who was clerking for a judge with chambers across the street from the Murrah Federal Building in an office that we thought had to have been destroyed. What I remember most clearly, though, is hearing Jeff’s voice on the phone and feeling like the world–like home–wasn’t a safe place any more.
And now (later in the day) I want to add this: In the car this morning, I was listening to the live coverage of the memorial service. A survivor was talking about the bombing and the years after, and about her repeated trips to the Memorial. Charlie was in the back seat, sucking his thumb and looking out the window–and, for all I knew, not listening. ‘Mommy,’ he said, ‘what’s a bombing?’ I wish my three-year-old didn’t know that word. I wish I didn’t have to explain it to him. But I tried. ‘Buddy, a bombing is when someone blows something up, like a building.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Mommy, why are you crying?’
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April 19th, 2005 at 7:19 pm, ieatcrayonz Says:
Hello Susan. Today has just been so emotional, and not just because poor Carrie had to do 70’s dance music on American Idol. My husband came home from Wal-Mart with a huge toy. I gave him the evil eye because there are only so many toys a 7 month old needs. He had been listening to the memorial coverage all day in his truck. He just wanted to do something special for Lauren. I think it hit him pretty hard. What a sweetie. Thanks for visiting…I’m blogrolling you!
April 20th, 2005 at 3:05 pm, Tisha from Texas Says:
Hey Susan, I saw your comment on Busy mom’s post about the bombing. I am at a loss at times when it comes to the horror and sheer evil of that act. Not that 9/11 was easier, mind you, but when it is one of your own people, it hits even harder.
I must blog roll you. Come see my blog for general insanity.
April 20th, 2005 at 4:27 pm, Susan Says:
Tisha, I think you’re on to something. I think that, in some ways, the 9/11 attacks were so huge (and, for most of us, so far away from our suburban lives) that it was nearly incomprehensible. But Oklahoma City is my home, and even ten years ago, before I ever imagined I would live here, I was shocked that anyone could do that to a place I loved. And THEN to find out that it wasn’t some stranger, but just another guy–
I think, for me, the worst part is Tim McVeigh’s matter-of-fact statement that the children at America Cares were ‘collateral damage’. He chose the Murrah building not because it had a daycare or even because these particular federal employees had more to do with Waco than others in the region, but because it was the least secure of all the facilities he looked at. He could park the truck right outside the building and do more damage than, say, in Kansas City (another possible site for this attack). The tragedy then becomes that this community, which is loving and welcoming, made itself a target specifically by being so welcoming.
At the new federal campus, that isn’t so true. There are thick reinforced concrete barriers and walls. It is really a beautifully designed fortress.
Whew. Didn’t realize I still had so much to say!