My husband & I were in Oklahoma City this past weekend for a wedding.
We had a couple of free hours on Saturday morning,
so we decided to go to the OKC Memorial.
We had been there before,
but I hadn't been there with my 'good' camera when I knew how to use it.
:)
The museum wasn't open the last time we were here either...
so we decided to head over and remember.
What we didn't realize...
was that the following day would be the 20th anniversary.
20 Years!
How can that be?!
I still remember where I was when I heard...
Do you?
Do you remember where you were when you heard that a bomb had gone off?
Do you remember seeing the building with a side totally blown away?
(Did you see the duck at the top of the wall?)
Do you remember seeing the children carried out?
Nineteen small coffins...19 small chairs...
This Memorial is beautifully done!
If you've never been...you really should go and visit.
It's part of our history...
an ugly part of our past...
but, it has helped to mold and change us...
individually, as families, as a nation.
How can something like this not affect us?
They seem to have a resident duck...
all I ever saw was one.
Not a group of them...
just one.
The chairs...
What a beautiful symbol...
...that empty chair...
you know the one left at the table after a loved one has passed away.
But to see so many chairs...all lined up...and empty.
And the small chairs.
Those are the worst...
they symbolize a life lost that was just in the beginning.
Suddenly, though, it became the end.
An abrupt end to a life that was fresh, new, innocent...
Since the following day was the 20th anniversary...
they were setting up speakers, stages, sound systems...cords...
lots and lots of cords being strung everywhere.
Clinton was speaking there the following day.
I felt a bit frustrated that every where I turned...
there was something in the shot
that I wasn't going to be able to photoshop out.
So, what do you do...you embrace it.
It's part of the history of the day we visited.
I wondered how many families would come back to visit on Sunday.
Leaving notes, personal items and I'm sure tears...
always tears.
Tears for the lives lost, voices forgotten, milestones that were never to be,
missed holidays, weddings, job promotions, graduations...
and the normalcy of everyday life...
all gone in a moment.
It's not fair that one person or a group of people can have that much power.
To make a decision to do something just because they don't like this, that or the other.
Aren't there better ways of channeling our unhappiness with the government?
Maybe a way that won't leave 168 empty chairs...
The Survivor Tree...
it grows bigger every time I see it.
So miraculous that it survived...
and so awesome that they saved it.
It's quiet here...
you can hear the faint trickling of water...
...clicks of cameras...
voices of people quietly talking about what happened here.
At 9:02 am...that minute between 9:01 and 9:03...
life changed.
168 lives stopped...
never to see another day.
Never to celebrate another birthday or anniversary...
It left a gap...
a gap that nothing can fill.
A void...
that only tears can fill...
This building houses the museum.
The holder of the 'things' that help us remember..
The space around where the building used to be...
there are several churches.
In a way, it was comforting to see the crosses representing the buildings of worship.
God was near...
We need to keep Him near so that we can survive these kinds of attacks.
Silly speakers...
guess that we'll just have to go back to get these shots.
I couldn't tear myself away from this reflecting pool...
Several employees around to answer questions...
for those who aren't from here, were too young...
or just don't remember all the details of what happened
on 4-19-1995 at 9:02 am.
It's what you do...
no matter what entrance you come in.
You stop...and look around.
You take it all in...
the empty space where a building used to be...
the 168 chairs...
the times on the walls...
Are you tired of these pictures yet?
I should have warned you...
I have a lot of them...
I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry.
I want to capture it all...
I want to help tell this story...
to remember what happened...because somehow it surely has affected my life.
It would have been nice to be here on the anniversary.
I'm sure lots of these chairs would have more on them.
And I do want to come back again...to capture the chairs all lit up.
We came at night the last time we were here.
It was beautiful...
The words around this tree...
Gratitude...
It was interesting to read about this tree...
virtually ignored before the bombing.
The only tree left in the parking lot.
Heavily damaged in the blast...
things forever imbedded in the trunk and branches.
It's shape forever altered...as is ours.
But like the citizens of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, Our Nation...
it came back...and continues to grow!
It's seeds gathered, saved and grown to pass on to families, survivors,
visitors and I guess a tree grows on the White House lawn from this parent tree.
...more words surrounding this tree...
...deeply rooted faith sustains us.
If you can't beat 'em...join 'em.
Or at least take the picture of all the tv/radio stations covering the event.
In the midst of all the reminders of death and destruction...
the beauty of new flowers.
A reminder that life goes on...
Not to replace what has been lost,
but something new...
yet similar to the old.
The following are some pictures of just some of the info at the museum...
To get the whole story...you really need to visit.
That day...April 19, 1995 started out
...Just like any other day...
So much information here...
And pictures of 'cell' phones, pagers...
Seriously?! Who remembers these?
It was amazing to see the damage to objects on and in the building.
Even more amazing...
They have a recording of a water board hearing that was being held that morning.
It recorded the blast and the reaction of the people in the hearing.
They survived...
...not all were so lucky.
Did you know that there was a meeting being held in another room.
One minute they were all there...
the next...
one lady was left.
The rest of the room and the people were gone...
...her dress had one rip in it.
A great history lesson...
recording what happened...
and the 'antiques' from that day.
Anyone else remember some of the first pc's?
It wasn't until later that I realized I may have seen part of the story...
I had driven out of state earlier that week.
I remember driving by the hotel the truck was parked at.
Seeing it...
Can you even imagine what it was like that day?
To see the love and concern that poured out from the children from around the country...
...tragedy doesn't just affect us.
We can't forget about our children.
As much as we want to shield them from things like this...
we have to talk to them.
To see how they are reacting to it.
And don't think they don't know what is going on...
they can sense it, hear it in conversations, fear in voices...
Putting names and faces to the numbers...
Too many children, brothers, sisters, wives, husbands, grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles...
...gone, but never to be forgotten.
Remember...and be Thankful for what you have...
for Who you have.
Don't let this win.
Be a person, family, community, state, nation...
that can communicate our disagreements and differences.
Agree to disagree...
and do what you can to make the World a better place.
There is always new growth...
a chance for a new beginning...
as long as you have breath.
This is another thing that everyone who comes to this memorial does...
You walk along the fences...
and look at the things left for the names and faces of those who lost their lives that day.
Too many things,
too many names,
too many faces...
Too much lost...
Where were you when you learned of the bombing?
Who were you with?
What did you learn?
How did it change you?
What will you do because of it?
It's not too late...
Love & Hugs...
No comments:
Post a Comment
I read & treasure each and every comment!
I'd love to hear from you!