I was working as a computer tech at the OBA at 41st and Lincoln, about 2 feet from the solid Glass wall on the south side of the building. We felt the concusion and saw the glass bow inward about 8 or 10 inches.
This is the poem I wrote a week later.
The Bomb
Sitting at my desk typing along, loud noise, terrible shake,
thought lightening struck somewhere near,
or maybe a small earthquake.
Run outside, looking all over, up and down,
no signs of damage,
till you look downtown.
Smoke rising like a black tide,
radio says federal building exploded,
we stopped to pray for those caught inside.
Hour by hour, day by day,
news gets only worse,
children were killed where they play.
A dear friend worked on the fourth floor,
innocent victim wounded or missing,
every second I pray they will find one more.
The bomb cost us so dearly,
we'll never be the same,
the anger comes out so clearly.
They blame it on allah, islam or iran,
then terror hit home,
he was one of our own, an american.
We pray rescuers will find one more still living,
they ask for donations,
all Oklahoma lines up in the giving.
Fireman and dog, a friendly looking pair,
24 hours a day, all week long,
we can't count how many care.
The needs are for gloves, hardhats, and food,
time after time, people come through,
we've seen the bad, now, a chance to help the good.
Eight days later, my friend is still missing, I wonder why ?
I'm sure God has a reason, I try to understand,
but all I can do is PRAY..... and CRY.
This is dedicated to the rescue workers and heroes unknown of the OKC Federal building Bombing, In memory of Karen Gist Carr. They deserve more than we could ever hope to give.
jlt