City bubbled back to life after tragedy

By Berry Tramel

Published: April 20, 2005

Six blocks south of the sound of bagpipes, colors jumped off Janet O'Neal's canvases. You can see them from Sheridan Avenue. O'Neal's vibrant paintings are the northern gateway to the Festival of the Arts, a swirling mass of creations and people.

10th Bombing anniversary observed | Article
Bombing victims remembered | Article
Ceremony honors bombing victims | Article
Families, others pay respect to victims | Text
Rescue workers visit memorial
Survivor Tree remains symbol of strength | Text
A look at the 'Oklahoma standard' | Text
Exhibits offers message of hope | Text

Six blocks south of the sound of bagpipes, artists sold their wares and schoolkids giggled in bunches and downtown workers grabbed an Indian taco for lunch.

Six blocks south of the sound of bagpipes, the arts festival began Tuesday morning, an ironic fall of the calendar in Oklahoma City.

Because funny thing about art. It stands still.

Nothing stood still up Robinson Avenue, at the sound of the bagpipes. The 10th anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing was remembered and mourned and celebrated. Yes, celebrated.

For we haven't stood still since April 19, 1995.

Ten years. Seems like just yesterday. Seems like forever.

Seems different things to different people. Which is why some laughed and some cried Tuesday at the Oklahoma City National Memorial. Why some carried flowers and some cameras. Why some walked quietly and some chatted on cell phones.

The memorial was a mosaic Tuesday. It had a funeral feel, with the service across the street at First United Methodist. It also had a celebrity feel, with people walking around with Bill Clinton books, thinking there might be a signing, and lawn chairs lining Robinson, folks thinking there might be a sighting.

But mostly, the memorial had a good feel. It always has that effect kudos to the designers and never more so than Tuesday, even with hundreds of us media hounds soiling the grounds.

People strolled by the reflecting pool and meandered among the 168 chairs, and when the service started across the street, no one mistook this for 1995. We have moved on.

P.J. Allen, Brandon Denny, Rebecca Denny and Chris Nguyen, surviving children from the America's Kids Child Development Center, who if not for a couple of madmen might have spent this day on a field trip six blocks south, read the memorial's mission statement.

Former President Clinton made us laugh and showed the charm that twice got him elected to the White House.

As downtown worker Ernestine Clark spoke, a siren shrilled in the background, reminding that troubles never cease.

As pastor Stan Cosby prayed, an elderly man outside the church raised his hand to the Lord.

When a streetside bench came open, two able-bodied men commandeered the seating, at the expense of an elderly woman who tried to get there first. They didn't relinquish their real estate.

On a downtown city sidewalk, we sang "America the Beautiful," not the worst experience you can have.

And we stood in silence for 168 seconds, in tribute to each life lost, and then listened as all 168 names were read.

The procession from the church to the memorial included survivors, victims' families and rescue workers, including those with the famous insignias NYPD, FDNY.

Nope, we don't have the corner, or even first chair, on tragedy and terror and death.

And the mourners at the memorial on Tuesday don't have the corner on death. Their losses are no greater than the losses of other Oklahomans, whose loved ones might have died 10 days or 10 years ago.

But the bombing deaths were public deaths, shared by us all, and Oklahomans came together again Tuesday to remember. Remember and mourn and celebrate.

And six blocks south of the sound of the bagpipes, another spring bubbled to life in the city that in 10 years has bubbled back to life. Artists sat stately in director's chairs and the wind gently blew, and Oklahomans sauntered among the booths eating Strawberry Newport.

Only the art stood still.

Berry Tramel: 475-3314, btramel@oklahoman.com.