The Shadow-gloom and Weight of the Sacred

I've never visited the bombing memorial in Oklahoma City. It's not something I ask of other people so I'm uncertain if that's rare for people my age. I was thinking about it last night. Thinking I should go some time. I want to take the Queen Bee when she's older and tell her about it, but I want to go before then, too--for myself. I wasn't close to anyone who passed away in the bombing; I didn't know anyone in the building. It's still something, as a person born and raised in Oklahoma, that is very close to my heart.

I was a sophomore in high school in the Murrah building was attacked. It was cloudy that morning in Mustang. There were, at times, a heavy drizzle, but it never broke into a rain shower. I was in my Biology class taking a test. First period. We called it "First Hour." The classroom had big glass windows. I remember seeing them shake. I remember hearing a low rumble. I remember feeling it ever so gently cause a vibrating sensation in my chair. I thought it was thunder. In Oklahoma, there is regularly thunder like that in the spring. Thunder that rumbles. But not one single time on that day was there any thunder. Not once.

My high school is about 25 miles from the sight of the Murrah building bombing. I'm not sure how long it was before I realized that noise, that deep, subtle bass sound--almost imperceptible but so undeniably strong--was the bomb detonating.

In at least one of my classes there was a television. I couldn't keep my eyes off that tremendous crater in the building. That plume of smoke. That guy crawling down a ladder, guided by a fireman. Then, later, the image of Baylee Almon. That photograph was awarded a Pulitzer. I think that there ended up being an ownership dispute over the photo. That seems kind of sleazy to me.

I don't remember feeling scared, though I'm sure I was. I just remember feeling empty. Sad. Angry. On 9/11 I just felt disbelief. It was a completely different feeling than on April 19.

In April we had to go to the Social Security office to take care of some red tape. It was formally housed in the Murrah building. They had a memorial in the new, current location of the office. There was a picture of each of the victims that worked in the social security office who were killed. It was a little eerie. There are little memorials like that all over the OKC area. For instance, my high school has three trees in a courtyard that were planted in memory of the bombing and its victims. You just kind of run into them sometimes.

It's humbling how violence impacts us. How long, O Lord?

peace