History tells us — correctly — that the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center were destroyed in a terrorist attack on Sept. 11, 2001.
But that was not the first time terrorists targeted the iconic towers.
Terrorists tried to blow up the World Trade Center 25 years ago today with a car bomb in the basement of the North Tower (which would be the first of the towers to be struck by a hijacked airplane in 2001). The plan was for the North Tower to collapse into the South Tower, killing tens of thousands of people in the process.
That plan did not succeed. It caused some damage, killed half a dozen people and injured hundreds more (most of the injuries occurred during the process of evacuating the tower), but the Twin Towers remained standing for more than eight years.
Outraged initially, Americans became distracted by other things, and they went on with their lives. The terrorists learned from the experience and returned with a far deadlier plan in 2001.
The names of the conspirators on that first occasion — Ramzi Yousef, Mahmud Abouhalima, Mohammad Salameh, Nidal Ayyad, Abdul Rahman Yasin and Ahmed Ajaj and the financier Khaled Sheikh Mohammed — became infamous in American history. Most were convicted in U.S. courts.
Osama bin Laden, who was behind the Sept. 11 attacks, was not found to have any connection to the 1993 bombing.
The body count 25 years ago today was significantly lower than the one on Sept. 11, of course, and that seems to make forgetting about what happened in 1993 justifiable — but it is instructive in evaluating the mentality of the terrorists.
The 1993 attack didn't produce as many casualties and the damage wasn't as extensive, but these people weren't like jilted boyfriends who impulsively acted on urges to get even with their exes. The terrorists were — and, presumably, still are — very patient and willing to devote as much time as necessary to learn from their mistakes. They waited more than eight years before trying again, but their attack in 2001 was far more productive from their point of view.
That will be worth remembering if the terrorists attempt something else in the future. If they fail, don't think that it is over. They will almost certainly be back.
"The Oklahoma City bombing was simple technology, horribly used. The problem is not technology. The problem is the person or persons using it."
Rev. Billy Graham
It's hard for me to believe it has been 20 years since the bombing of the federal building in Oklahoma City.
I wrote about this back on the 15th anniversary, and I observed much the same thing then as I do now. It's hard to believe, probably even harder now. Maybe that's because it seems as if I have lived another lifetime since it happened.
There were many things going on in my life at that time — and other things that happened in the weeks and months that followed — that make my memory of the bombing something of a blur.
I was teaching journalism at the University of Oklahoma, about 30 miles southeast of Oklahoma City, when the bombing occurred. In fact, I was scheduled to be in the classroom less than half an hour after the bombing happened. My office was just across the hall from the student newspaper newsroom, and I had been doing some work in my office for about an hour or so. There were never very many students in the newsroom in the mornings — it was a daily paper, and the staffers worked in there in the late afternoons and into the evenings — but there were a few students in there that morning, and they had the TV on. I could hear the news reports — still sketchy — as I walked down the hall just before the start of my class.
I knew something had happened, but, like most of the people watching the news reports on the local TV stations at that time, no one really knew what it was. In those days, people didn't automatically think of terrorism when something unpleasant happened. Well, maybe some people did — there was a report that day of a man of Middle Eastern descent who had the misfortune of boarding a plane in Oklahoma City that morning and flying to Chicago, where authorities stopped and detained him after he got off the plane. There was some modest hysteria about that, but it was nothing, I am sure, compared to what it might have been if the Oklahoma City bombing had occurred maybe a decade later than it did.
In those more innocent times (by comparison), terrorism was one of many potential culprits; in fact, the early speculation that day was that a gas line had exploded. As far as most Americans were concerned in 1995, terrorism was still something that happened in the other hemisphere. I could be wrong, but I don't think that man had any idea what had happened when the agents descended upon him in Chicago. Fast forward a few years. If the bombing had occurred in 2005 instead of 1995, terrorism probably would have been the first — and, perhaps, only — suspect for many.
My class lasted for an hour, then I returned to my office to do some work before going home for lunch. While I was at home, I watched the news reports. Considerably more was known by that time. The gas line explosion theory had been ruled out by noon. It was now believed to have been the outcome of a deliberate act.
That afternoon, I had a writing lab. Before it started, some of my students approached me about letting them leave early so they could donate blood for the injured. That was the kind of thing I wanted to encourage so I said I would try to wrap things up earlier than usual to allow them to do that — and that is what I did.
By mid–afternoon that day, a suspect was in custody. His name was Timothy McVeigh. He was convicted in 1997 and executed in 2001. His accomplice, Terry Nichols, is serving several life sentences in a super maximum security prison in Colorado.
For them, the Oklahoma City bombing is a closed chapter, I suppose — but not so for those who must live with the consequences of their acts.
The most obvious victims, I imagine, are the ones who were injured that day, and many have been the subjects of followup articles in newspapers and magazines. The survivors have not all been eager to share their stories. Some chose to avoid the spotlight on what must be a very personal anniversary for them; others reluctantly went ahead with the interviews but insisted that they would not let what happened 20 years ago define them.
I have to admire that.
But, as I have often said in these last 20 years, I also admire the commendable work that was done by the student journalists with whom I worked at the University of Oklahoma at that time. Many of them grew up in Oklahoma City or one of the many nearby towns; they were touched by the bombing, too, but they persevered with their work as journalists.
The student newspaper had its staffers at the bombing site for the rest of what remained of that semester. At a time when nearly every other newspaper — professional or academic — was using articles, photos and graphics supplied by the wire services, the OU student newspaper relied on its reporters, photographers and graphics artists to produce all original material — material that was posted online at a time when many professional periodicals still did not have an online presence, let alone most college newspapers.
They put aside their personal feelings and covered the event with the professionalism it deserved. That accomplishment was even more impressive than you may realize. One of the staffers actually lost her father in the bombing.
But she, like the city, has risen from the ashes. She has gone on to pursue a career in broadcast journalism and has refused to let what happened to her family 20 years ago define her.
At the site of the bombing, a memorial now stands.
I haven't been there, but I have heard it is a serene place with a reflecting pool, a "gate of time" and a field of chairs symbolizing each life that was lost that day. The chairs representing the adults are a little larger than the ones representing the children who died. That is a nice, subtle touch.
Another interesting touch is the "survivor tree." It was part of the building's original landscaping and, somehow, it survived the bombing and the fires that followed. It still stands. I presume it will be mentioned during today's memorial service.
When this day dawned 25 years ago, Americans really weren't thinking much about terrorism.
We were naive about what was happening in the rest of the world. We had been through the hostage crisis in Iran, but it ended with no loss of life — except for a few servicemen who died in an aborted rescue attempt — and we had gone through the next several years without any disruptions in our daily lives.
There were isolated instances of terrorism that involved some Americans, but they were few and relatively far between. In the 1980s, it had been easy for Americans to pretend that the world's problems were not our own.
That is ... it was easy until 25 years ago today when a Pan Am flight, en route from London to New York, was blown out of the sky over Lockerbie, Scotland.
Lockerbie is a tiny town in southwest Scotland. It has existed for more than 1,000 years, but few people ever heard of it until Dec. 21, 1988 when debris from Pan Am Flight 103 rained down on it. Eleven residents of Lockerbie died along with the 259 people on board the flight. Americans accounted for more than two–thirds of the casualties.
In part because of that ambiguity, there have been a number of persistent questions about the bombing that have gained some traction with the public over the years. There are many who believe the whole story will never be known, and I am one of them.
After 25 years, what is known is relatively little, and both emotion and speculation have been rampant at times.
It has been fairly well established that a suitcase bomb detonated on the plane, sending it back to earth, and the record will show that a Libyan intelligence agent, Abdelbeset Ali Mohmed al Megrahi, was tried and convicted in connection with it.
But that is about the extent of it.
Much like the Kennedy assassination 50 years ago, there were elements of the event that looked suspicious. Many of them may have been coincidental, but, after all the time that has passed, it seems unlikely that we will ever know the truth.
For example, one thing that has never been satisfactorily explained (as far as I am concerned, anyway) is the fact that there were at least four officials from the U.S. government who were on board the plane. According to unconfirmed rumors, there was actually a fifth official on the plane.
One of those officials was with the CIA. Another was with the DIA (Defense Intelligence Agency) — two others were Diplomatic Security Service agents acting as bodyguards.
Perhaps their presence on the plane was a coincidence, but it is easy to see how a conspiracy theory could come from it. There had been several confrontations between the U.S. Navy and Libya in the Gulf of Sidra (which Libya claimed as its territorial waters) during the 1980s. The Libyans avenged some incidents, but Gadhafi harbored a lingering resentment for what he saw as ongoing acts of aggression against Libya by the French and Americans.
Perhaps the bombing of Flight 103 was intended to avenge a perceived act of aggression.
Megrahi was the only person ever tried for the bombing, and he was given a compassionate release from prison in 2009 because he had terminal prostate cancer and was only expected to live for three months. The decision generated some controversy, which was revisited when Megrahi survived the prognosis by a couple of years.
That was certainly a great moment — an uplifting moment — in American history. But 2½ weeks later, in the truest sense of Sir Isaac Newton's laws of physics, there was an equal and opposite reaction.
Fifty years ago today, the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Ala. — which had been used as a meeting place for King and other civil rights leaders (and a gathering place for civil rights rallies) — was bombed during the Sunday School hour. Four black girls were killed. Three were 14 years old, and one was 11.
As much credit as one may be tempted to give King for the legislative and judicial triumphs of the civil rights movement of the '60s, it is my opinion that what happened 50 years ago today was the movement's critical moment.
There were still a few places in America in 1963 — as there are today — that were thought to be safe places to be — home, school, church. To attack one of any of these was to attack all such places in America — and thus it was an affront to nearly all Americans, whether they supported or opposed the civil rights cause, because nearly all Americans have homes (however modest), attend school and/or frequent a house of worship.
Martyrs are often necessary for truly transformational movements to achieve their objectives, and I think it was that way with the civil rights movement. King's speech was a tremendous high for supporters of the movement, but, as such things often do, it seems to me that it may have created a sense of complacency. The momentum of the movement may have stalled.
I don't know. It was before my time.
But, based on what I have read, in books and newspaper accounts, it was far from certain, in the aftermath of King's speech, that the Civil Rights Act would pass. The bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church restored the movement's momentum.
Sympathetic Americans were probably tempted to believe, after seeing King's speech, that the movement's triumphs were coming at an historically rapid clip, which may have led many to assume that supporting civil rights and voting rights legislation were no–brainers — while unsympathetic Americans may have felt a sense of urgency to stop what was perceived as a threat to a way of life.
In the aftermath of the bombing, many newspapers in the North lamented that they hadn't taken the movement as seriously as they should have. The Milwaukee Sentinel, for one, wrote in an editorial that "the hour is late and the situation is critical."
The bombing had the effect of ratcheting up sympathy and support for civil rights. On July 2, 1964, the Civil Rights Act was enacted, winning congressional approval by better than 2–to–1 margins in both the House and Senate.
It probably wouldn't surprise many 21st–century observers to know that most of the opposition in both chambers came from Southerners.
But it might surprise those observers to know that most of those Southerners were Democrats.
And it might also surprise those observers to know that, outside the South, nearly as many Republicans as Democrats supported the passage of the Civil Rights Act.
It was 20 years ago today that the Branch Davidians' compound in Waco, Texas, burned to the ground when federal agents stormed the compound after a seven–week standoff.
In the aftermath of the bombing at the finish line of the Boston Marathon this week, it was natural for people to wonder if there was some connection between the two. When one considers the events of the last few hours, though, it is natural to wonder if there is a connection.
The focus of the investigation and manhunt was two brothers reported to be from Chechnya, but they are now said to have left Chechnya while children. At this writing, their allegiances/motivations are uncertain. About all that is certain is that one of the brothers is dead and the other is on the loose.
I suppose such questions will be answered at some point and in one way or another.
If the perpetrator(s) turns out to be domestic, there may be a pretty good chance that the explosions were planned to coincide (almost) with the anniversary of Waco. It was, after all, the inspiration for the bombing of the federal building in Oklahoma City two years later.
I remember exactly where I was on this day in 1993. I was in Columbia, Mo., with a group of my journalism students from the University of Oklahoma. We were attending a weekend seminar on the University of Missouri campus.
April 19, 1993 was a Monday, the last day of the conference. When things wrapped up around midday, we were planning to hit the road for Norman. I remember waking up in my motel room that morning and switching on the TV. As I got dressed for the day, I kept track of the start of the fatal siege.
It began early that day when the feds tried to use armored vehicles to puncture the walls of the compound — through which, the plan went, tear gas would be tossed in an attempt to flush the occupants out.
But somehow the compound went up in flames instead — some say the Davidians set the fire(s) themselves — and, when it was all said and done, more than 70 people, including their leader, the charismatic David Koresh (born Vernon Howell), were dead.
I've never been sure of the sequence of events. The students and I were busy until around 12:30 or so, but we learned, just before the seminar adjourned, that a fire — well, several fires — broke out shortly after noon. As the host of the seminar concluded the activities, he advised that "all hell has broken loose in Waco."
(I'm not alone in that uncertainty about the event sequence, by the way. Even among those who were at the scene and participated in the siege, there has been and continues to be disagreement about what happened when and who was responsible.)
The students and I didn't see footage of the burning compound until we got back to Norman, but we heard reports on the radio all the way.
That night, when I was back in my apartment, I stayed up late watching news accounts, marveling at what we had missed and at the irony that a bunch of journalism students and professors had missed what was probably the greatest news story of the year because they were attending a seminar about how to present the news more effectively.
I had no idea that, two years later to the day, a bomb would go off in Oklahoma City, less than 30 miles from where I lived, and the timing would be connected to the anniversary of the assault on the Branch Davidians' compound in Texas.
(That was an even bigger news story, one in which I would find myself involved indirectly — as teacher and unofficial adviser to the students who staffed the OU campus newspaper, who produced all their own copy and photos and graphics, unlike nearly all newspapers, professional and collegiate, who depended upon the Associated Press.
(Frankly, I will never be able to say adequately — or often enough — how proud I was and am of the work those young people did on a story that undoubtedly was intensely personal for them. Many had grown up in Oklahoma City or nearby communities; one student even lost her father.)
But no one knew there was a link until later.
Somehow, that seems appropriate. Like other charismatic figures who led their followers to their destruction, Koresh was a mysterious individual. Judging from what I have read of Koresh — and the video clips I have seen of him preaching to his followers — virtually no one (perhaps not even Koresh himself) could have foreseen the fiery end of the Waco compound.
In many ways, Koresh and the Davidians remain shrouded in mystery.
Two decades later, Koresh still casts a mystifying spell.
"His legacy," writes Allan Turner in the Beaumont (Texas) Enterprise, "is one of righteousness, duplicity and showmanship."
A survivor of the inferno told Tim Madigan of the Fort Worth Star–Telegram that he still believes Koresh was who he claimed to be — in spite of the many questions that swirled around the standoff and final siege at the time.
There are many questions about those events that remain unanswered.
I used to work as a sports copy editor, and, in those days, you never saw an article from the Boston Marathon on the front page of the newspaper.
Times have changed. I can guarantee that the Boston Marathon will be on the front page of every newspaper tomorrow, but that has nothing to do with the race.
Initially, it was thought there had been three explosions, but, as I write this, it appears that the third event — a fire or explosion at the nearby JFK library — was a bizarre irony.
When I heard that, I immediately thought of the hijackings of 2001 — and how I heard of planes crashing into the World Trade Center ... and then the Pentagon. Perhaps it was due to the fact that my office did not have a television, but there was a lot of confusion in my workplace that day — and a lot of misinformation floating around, even from people who had been in contact with friends and relatives who were watching things unfold on TV.
There is always some confusion around an event like this, and, sadly, I have become well acquainted with them. I was living a short distance from Oklahoma City when the federal building there was bombed (the 18th anniversary of that event will be this Friday, by the way); it is safe to say that my exposure to that event was more intense than it was for most.
And I, like most Americans, remember the confusion that was part of the developing story on 9–11. A few years later, I watched, transfixed, as the news coverage of the series of bombings in London flooded the airwaves.
The only things that seem clear are that at least three people are dead tonight, more than 100 are injured (some have lost limbs), and no one has claimed responsibility.
The investigators may already have an idea who was responsible, but they are keeping their cards hidden — as good investigators do.
In the days ahead, I expect many of the pressing questions to be answered — perhaps not always to everyone's satisfaction but answered, nonetheless.
There were people from all over the world in Boston today; consequently, I expect to hear eventually of injured — possibly even deceased — people from several countries.
There may even be things about this case that will surprise me.
Actually, the only thing that I am sure of — at least, as sure as anyone can be at this point — is that this was a coordinated, organized attack that almost certainly involved more than one person. I don't know if it was carried out by a domestic or foreign group. I suppose that is a detail we will learn in due course.
For now, I am willing to let the investigators do their work — which, I suppose, is an easy thing for me to do, considering that I am about 1,500 miles away and I won't have to put up with the inconvenience that many Bostonians will as they try to go about their daily business.
But investigators don't get to choose where a crime is committed. They can only investigate the scene of a crime, wherever that scene happens to be. This seems likely to be a difficult scene to process.
I wish them all the best in investigating this crime. I hope they bring those responsible to justice.
And I hope that we learn whatever we need to learn from this event to keep another one from happening.
But I am doubtful that will happen.
I am doubtful because, as is abundantly clear in the debate over guns, we tend to treat only the symptoms and not the disease.
The symptoms are the weapons that are used to kill and maim people.
The disease is whatever prompts one human being (or a group of human beings) to deliberately hurt or kill other human beings.
People who are bent on destruction will do it with whatever weapon is available to them. They will use guns — or knives, as we saw at the school in Houston last week — or explosive devices, as we saw in Boston today.
Until we are ready to face that problem with the vigor with which we attack inanimate objects, we will not rid our land of this epidemic of violence.
In its own way, at its own pace, history fills in the blanks for us.
On this day 15 years ago, the pain and the grief was intense in Oklahoma City and the rest of Oklahoma. Four days had passed since the horrific bombing that took 168 lives, and President Bill Clinton came to the Oklahoma State Fairgrounds that Sunday to speak at the memorial prayer service. He came to fulfill his presidential role as Comforter in Chief, but I am convinced the ever–pragmatic Clinton must have come with at least some political objectives in mind as well.
Clinton's party had just lost control of both houses of Congress about six months earlier, and the president's future was uncertain. In general, polls showed that there were about as many Americans who disapproved of Clinton's job performance as there were those who approved.
History tells us that Clinton went on to be re–elected the following year. He carried 31 states and D.C., receiving more than 47 million popular votes and 379 electoral votes. No one heard of Monica Lewinsky until well after the election. The Republicans in Congress did not try to have Clinton removed from office until that second term was half over. No doubt there were many who thought, in 1995, the voters would take care of that for them.
In 1995, there was still some doubt that Clinton would win a second term — and part of that doubt was based on the perception in the country that Clinton was wishy–washy, that he wasn't tough enough for a nation that had gleefully re–elected Ronald Reagan a decade earlier.
On that Sunday in April 1995 — almost exactly a year after Clinton delivered one of the eulogies for Richard Nixon — I was living in central Oklahoma, and I recall no conversations I had with anyone else who was living there nor do I recall any discussions on the Sunday morning news shows that dealt with Clinton's political prospects.
I guess it would have been astonishing if local attention had focused on Clinton, even though the presidential entourage was coming to the state that day. Everyone's attention was still on the bombing site. The waning hope that survivors might still be found was mentioned, even though conditions had been unseasonably cool and wet in the days after the bombing, and experts warned listeners that the odds were against finding any more survivors buried in the rubble. Although Timothy McVeigh was in custody, there was some talk of the search for "John Doe #2," McVeigh's alleged accomplice, but if he ever existed, he was never found. I've only heard him mentioned once in nearly 10 years.
And there were still those who clung to the rumors (which had been discredited within hours of the bombing) that Middle Eastern terrorists had been involved. It's hard to remember now, but, at the time, the first (and unsuccessful) attack on the World Trade Center was a not–so–distant memory, and the American public, then as now, was more prepared to blame a foreign terrorist than a domestic one.
For the most part, my recollection of that day is that the people of Oklahoma were still in shock, and Clinton came to help them come to terms with their loss. His visit was mentioned respectfully by the local media, but there was none of the excitement that a place like Oklahoma City would be expected to show — under normal circumstances — for a presidential visit.
Part of that may have had to do with the fact that Clinton is a Democrat and Oklahoma hasn't voted for a Democrat for president since Clinton was a teenager.
Oklahoma hasn't always been the Republican state that it is today. For the first four decades of its existence as a state, Oklahoma voted for Democratic candidates for president most of the time. But since 1952, Oklahoma has voted Democratic only once.
I really doubt that Clinton came to Oklahoma City 15 years ago today with the idea that he could win over Oklahoma with a lot of posturing and tough talk. But he used the kind of language ("evil," "terrible sin") that resonated in deeply religious Oklahoma and spoke of how healing the grief and pain was "God's work."
I think he came to Oklahoma City hoping to win over enough locals to make him the most competitive Democratic nominee Oklahoma had seen in awhile — and, in the process, revive his own political fortunes.
"You have lost too much," Clinton told his listeners, "but you have not lost everything. And you have certainly not lost America, for we will stand with you for as many tomorrows as it takes."
He quoted Scripture, telling the people of Oklahoma City that the dogwood he and his wife had planted at the White House in memory of the lost lives "embodies the lesson of the Psalms — that the life of a good person is like a tree whose leaf does not wither."
"[A] tree takes a long time to grow," Clinton said, "and wounds take a long time to heal. But we must begin."
When I sat in my Norman, Okla., apartment that day and watched Clinton deliver that speech, I felt that what he was beginning was his campaign for re–election. To me, he had seemed rather silent in that spring of 1995, metaphorically licking his wounds and biding his time while the Republican majorities in Congress reveled in their newly acquired power.
Oklahoma City was Clinton's triumphant return to the national stage — and that, to me, is the great irony of the Oklahoma City bombing.
McVeigh said he was retaliating for — even said he chose the date because of — the siege on the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas, two years earlier. That siege began very early in Clinton's presidency. He hadn't had time to accomplish anything, really, but it could be said that the Oklahoma City bombing was aimed at Clinton.
We've all heard McVeigh's comments about "collateral damage." Clinton may have been part of that, even though he was in another time zone. It just may have been intended to hurt Clinton more than it hurt anyone else, even those who were killed.
Yet Clinton turned the tables on McVeigh and may well have won his second term because of what he said 15 years ago today.
It's really hard for me to believe — for several reasons — that it has been 15 years since the Oklahoma City bombing.
On the day it happened, I was living about 25 miles from Oklahoma City. At the time, I was on the journalism faculty at the University of Oklahoma. I was in my office shortly after 9 a.m. that day, conversing with a colleague. I've heard some people say that they could hear the explosion from 50 miles away. Maybe they did, but I cannot truthfully say that I heard the explosion. Of course, I was inside when it happened. Maybe those who say they heard it from 50 miles away were outside.
If, from that distance, being outside would make that much difference.
Anyway, I learned about the explosion the same way most people did — from a TV report. I was about to go upstairs to teach an editing class, and I walked past the student newspaper's newsroom. There was a TV in there, and a few students were already in the newsroom, even though their workdays didn't typically begin until the afternoon, and they were watching the initial reports.
I stopped to watch the report — and wound up being a few minutes late for my class. That was OK, though. Most of the students had been detained by news reports as well.
We were all a bit dazed by the news. One of my students observed that there was likely to be a great need for blood and asked if class could be dismissed so they could donate blood for the injured. I agreed.
(In case you're wondering, I never asked my students to confirm that they donated blood that day. Many no doubt did give blood. That is something I will always remember about the students with whom I worked at OU, especially the ones in my classes that semester — their generosity and unselfishness. Some may well have treated it as an unexpected day off from class but not many, and it really doesn't matter. I never made them account for their activities. I guess it would have come across as unseemly under the circumstances.)
Everyone was touched that day but especially people like my students, most of whom had grown up in Oklahoma City or in nearby towns. The bombing literally took place in their backyard.
Not all of the students actually knew someone who was killed or injured that day — but one of my students did lose her father. And ripples of loss continue to be felt. Yesterday, The Oklahoman ran an article of a young woman who was 4 when her mother was killed in the bombing. She says she has very few memories of her mother that are truly her own, that most of what she knows of her mother is what family and friends have told her. But, in one of the ironies of life, she is sort of following in her mother's footsteps. It may not be her permanent career choice, but she is working for the DEA — her mother's employer 15 years ago.
That young woman is the same age now as many of my students were that day. And many of my former students have children who are the same age today that young woman was 15 years ago. The cycle of life goes on.
As I remember, KOCO's Sky 5 was one of the first on the scene with aerial footage of the devastation. Within minutes, central Oklahoma (and, I assume, the rest of the nation) saw the destruction that had unexpectedly been visited upon it on what had seemed to be an ordinary spring morning.
I must admit, I thought of that six years later when the terrorists hijacked four commercial airplanes and crashed three of them into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. It was the same kind of morning — my memory is that it was a clear–blue sky like the one on 9–11, and unseasonably mild with not the slightest hint that hell was about to make an appearance on earth.
The Oklahoma City bombing resembled 9–11 in more than just the weather. In the days after the event, there was an uncommon sense of courtesy among all the people in the area, much like what I observed in the days following 9–11.
And, unfortunately, there was an "atmosphere of hostility" in the land, as President Clinton wrote in his presidential memoir. Clinton rightly observed the role that right–wing radio played in fanning the flames, and there were reports of troublesome websites, but I always felt he gave too much credit to the influence of sites that encouraged civil disobedience and offered instructions in bomb making.
The internet did exist in 1995, and so, apparently, did such sites, but there were far fewer computers in private homes in those days, and web addresses tended to be much more complicated. A child can maneuver through the internet today with little or no trouble, but, in 1995, even adults with advanced college degrees had problems.
The internet has spread to more homes in 15 years, and it is unquestionably easier than ever for people to communicate online so I wouldn't casually dismiss the potential link between computers and evil acts when Clinton warns of parallels between those days and these. I'd listen to what he says.
As I say, I didn't hear the explosion, but I knew that area of Oklahoma City reasonably well. I can't say that I regularly spent much time there, but there had been times when I walked along the sidewalk in front of the Murrah Building. It is possible that I walked across the very spot where the Ryder truck was parked before it was detonated. I'm sure I must have looked across the area that is now a permanent memorial to those who were killed — but, whenever I was in that area, the building stood in that spot. I'm sure I wouldn't recognize it today.
I remained in central Oklahoma for another year after the bombing, but I don't think I ever returned to Oklahoma City. I never really had a reason to, I guess, but the truth is that I never felt the desire to return.
Perhaps if I had, I would have learned what The Oklahoman refers to in today's editorial — that April 19, 1995, was a minute in time. It was a painful moment, to be sure, a moment in which "lives were brutally stolen" and "[t]he lives of hundreds of others were forever changed." But it also was — and is — a defining moment.
"We are all 15 years older now, each of us moving, minute by minute, imperceptibly, toward the sunset of our own lives. Moments in time, both the marvelous and the horrible, will one day not matter.
"Until then, it is apt that we remember how a moment in time became the moment of eternity for 168 of our fellow citizens."
The Oklahoman
Someone — at The Oklahoman, perhaps — has calculated that nearly 8 million minutes have passed since that fateful moment in 1995. Oklahoma City is a better place today than it was 15 years ago, The Oklahoman says, but how much better would it be if those 168 people who died in that explosion had been allowed to live?
Certainly, if one asks that question, it is impossible not to wonder if any of the 19 children who died might have been the one to find a cure for cancer — or if one of them might have produced some other benefit for mankind. We mourned the loss of life many years ago. We grieve today for the potential that was lost.
Well, those are questions that can't be answered — and are probably best left not pondered. No amount of musing can produce satisfactory answers.
We may be unable to keep ourselves from wondering how different our nation and our world might have been if the Murrah building had not been blown up 15 years ago today — or if those four airplanes had not been hijacked in 2001 or if other acts of terrorism had not been committed — but, when the questions have been asked and the wondering is done, nothing is changed. Oklahoma City remains one of history's what–ifs.
It is fitting, as The Oklahoman writes, that we honor those who died.
But the responsibility for the future rests with the living.
For good or ill, the dead have made their contributions.
"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence is not an act but a habit."
Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790)
"Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn."
Unknown
"Everything in life can teach you a lesson. You just have to be willing to observe and learn."
Howard Arnold Walter (1883-1918)
"I would be true, for there are those who trust me; I would be pure, for there are those who care; I would be strong, for there is much to suffer; I would be brave, for there is much to dare."
"In the best of times, our days are numbered anyway. So it would be a crime against nature for any generation to take the world crisis so solemnly that it put off enjoying those things for which we were designed in the first place: the opportunity to do good work, to enjoy friends, to fall in love, to hit a ball and to bounce a baby."
Unknown
"If you're lucky enough to get a second chance at something, don't waste it."
Harry Truman (1884-1972)
"It is amazing what you can accomplish if you do not care who gets the credit."
George Carlin (1937-2008)
"I've got this real moron thing I do. It's called thinking. And I'm not really a good American because I like to form my own opinions. I don't just roll over when I'm told to. Sad to say, most Americans just roll over on command. Not me. I have certain rules I live by. My first rule, I don't believe anything the government tells me."
Stephen King (1947- )
"People who try hard to do the right thing always seem mad."
Dr. Seuss
"Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You."
Eleanor Roosevelt (1884-1962)
"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face."
Groucho Marx (1890-1977)
"Whatever it is, I'm against it."
Mel Brooks (1926- )
"If Shaw and Einstein couldn't beat death, what chance have I got? Practically none."
Edward R. Murrow (1908-65)
"The speed of communications is wondrous to behold. It is also true that speed can multiply the distribution of information that we know to be untrue."
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881)
"Every man is my superior in that I may learn from him."
Confucius (551-479 B.C.)
"It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop."
Ancient proverb
"Those whom the gods wish to destroy they first make mad."
Blaise Pascal (1623-1662)
"Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from a religious conviction."
Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)
"Where they burn books, at the end they also burn people."
Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007)
"The two real political parties in America are the Winners and the Losers. The people don't acknowledge this. They claim membership in two imaginary parties, the Republicans and the Democrats, instead."
I got my bachelor's degree in journalism from the University of Arkansas, and I got my master's degree in journalism from the University of North Texas. Most of my adult life has been dedicated to writing and editing in one form or another. Most recently I have taught writing (news and developmental) as an adjunct journalism professor at Richland College, where I advise the student newspaper staff. Go, Thunderducks!
