Oklahoma City Memorial and Museum

Last week, we had a reception in Oklahoma City in advance of the UGA/Oklahoma State football game. (And a stinker of a game it was! But that's another post for another time. . .)

While I was out there, I went to the Oklahoma City National Memorial and Museum. Wow - what a moving experience.

The memorial I had seen on TV, and I was glad to have the opportunity to see it in person. I went both during the day. . .

. . .and at night. . .

. . .and it really is a different experience to see it after the sun has gone down.

What I wasn't prepared for was the museum. I really can't describe it, but I'll try to give you an idea.

You start by entering a hall describing the day - the weather, the newspaper headlines, the activities in the building, and the times that children are dropped off at the daycare in the building.

You then enter a room, where you hear a recording of a water hearing that took place at 9:00am on April 19, 1995 in a building adjacent to the Murrah Federal Building. Two minutes into the recording, you hear the explosion and the lights flash. You hear the confusion and fear in the voices. The door opens and you enter the exhibits.

It starts with news footage taken about 15 minutes after the bomb. You see keys and watches and eyeglasses and shoes of those who did and didn't survive. Overhead the sounds of sirens blare. You can feel the chaos.

You see the dress of someone in the building with a small cut in it. She was leading a meeting with eight other ladies, all of whom died. She said she was commenting on their pretty Easter colors and then they just disappeared. And then you see video of interviews with parents who were searching for their children who had been in the day care center. That's when I started crying.

They talk about rescue and recovery and then you see how they began the investigation and trial that led to the conviction of Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols. By the time I got there I was so mad that this could happen.

Then you get to the Gallery of Honor, with pictures and tributes to the 168 who were killed. And I cried some more.

I remember this happening, but didn't feel it. I do now, and I learned so much at this museum.