Razorette and I took a little road trip down to Dallas over Fourth of July to visit friends. On the way back, we stopped at the Oklahoma City Memorial. I thought it was nicely done, but surprised that one of the buildings so badly impacted was, in fact, a newspaper building that now houses the museum. This hit me especially hard – every journalist’s nightmare is to be plunged into the center of a story they’re trying to cover. My wife had to talk me into touring the museum, but now I’m glad we did.
Huge kudos to whomever designed the museum – the layout and progression of it does a great job of conveying the terror and confusion of that day. It was an emotionally wrenching experience (I knew it would be, which is why I was reluctant to visit in the first place.) It wasn’t until after I’d seen all of those faces that the empty chairs took on real meaning. The website, which I accessed that evening, is even more haunting, as it contains explanations of what each person was doing in the building at the time.
If you get a chance to tour the memorial, do so. It will put your life in perspective for you; sure did for me.
It is a really good memorial. The reflecting pool, the chairs, and the survivor tree are all quietly moving.
The Journal Record building is the one you’re talking about but, I don’t think the paper was in business at the.
It’s that first stop on the tour that did it for me (and I was there shortly afterwards* till they decided, rightly so, to not having well meaning amateurs endanger themselves and others).
In the first room,
An audio recording of a water board meeting (iirc) plays up to the moment of the blast. As you hear the blast, the room darkens, and the wall in front of you is backlit with pics of all who died. (Not pics of them as found, but pics the families submitted.) VERY moving.
ETA: * I mean, on the morning of April 19th, 1995.
Well, I didn’t think so either, but there’s a portion of a blown-out restroom on the south side of the building that’s preserved behind plex, and to the right you can see what’s obviously a closet. The door of the closet now, of course, goes back into the museum, but the info plaque says it went into the editor’s office, and it names the editor (I don’t recall the name right now.) I assumed from that the offices were in use at the time. Even if they weren’t, though, it’s still a powerful display.
Yeah, it was a combination of that and being ushered directly into the confusion and chaos – and in some cases, the intimacy – of the next display that knocked me for a loop. The effect of the museum was to put me right there that day. It wasn’t some faraway horror any more – I was right there, in it, and for that short time, OKC was *my * town.
Sorry, Jodi, I guess I missed the reference to 343.
Living in Tulsa at the time, I recall her (Edye Smith). She had her husband were split at the time (divorced, I think), but got back together after this. She’d had a tubal ligation after the youngest boy had been born, but then tried to get it reversed after the bombing to try for another baby. Last I heard, it was unsuccessful, and she and her (ex) had once again split up.
I visited the memorial in 2000, and I agree - it is at once magnificent and chilling to the bone. It’s one of the few places I’ve ever been where every face you briefly glanced upon had a tear. I think the chairs are what reduced me to a sobbing wreck.