I remember that day so clearly.
I was living in Tulsa, OK at the time; working full time for my pastor’s ministry and the church I was attending.
Every morning one of the pastors of the church led the staff in prayer.
That morning as we were praying a quietness came over all of us.
That morning’s prayer session was different and we all knew it, but didn’t know why. Normally, as we all left the room to go back to our own work spaces we would be joyful and talkative.
Not that morning.
We were all quiet.
I always kept a radio in my work space and when I returned at 9:15, I turned it on.
I remember looking at my phone and seeing a number of messages and thinking that odd for so early in the morning. Calls usually didn’t start coming in until after 10:00 AM.
If I remember correctly, the bomb went off around 9:02 AM.
At 9:20 AM my phone began to ring again and it didn’t stop the entire day.
As I drove home that night, I could barely get to my drive way because the road was filled with cars.
Cars parked EVERYWHERE.
Miles of cars parked EVERYWHERE.
I lived across the street from the Red Cross Blood Center.
Watching the news, I remember being so struck by the sight of the children being carried out of the massive, massive destruction.
None of the children were crying. Not one.
This was a trauma many of us had never before experienced.
Oklahoma City, OK, April 19, 1995 — remembering both the fallen and the heroes of that day.