Vignettes from the memorial

Published: April 20, 2005

Some came Tuesday to cry. Others came to laugh. Some who showed up were related to the 168 souls taken from this world by the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. Others came to see friends and coworkers they hadn't seen in years. Some were returning to Oklahoma City for the first time since they had responded as rescue workers to a disaster caused by a fertilizer and fuel bomb that ripped through the building. Others came simply because Oklahomans had responded to disasters of their own.

But regardless of specifics, they all came Tuesday to remember and to pray such a tragedy never happens again.

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Michael Grady of Midwest City thought it best to do his daily Scripture reading near the Survivor Tree on Tuesday.

Grady took leave time from work at Tinker Air Force Base to be at the Oklahoma City National Memorial on the bombing's 10th anniversary.

He arrived a couple hours before the activities began and sat by himself near the American elm as he read his devotional: Psalm 109; Luke 21 and Judges 5 and 6.

"It's peaceful," Grady said. "Look at that tree. What an awesome testimony to what people can do. That tree represents the power of God's protection and the survivorship of Oklahomans. Ten years later, we're still standing strong, still remembering those who died and still pressing on with our lives."

Michael Reyes said the 10th anniversary is an important marker for survivors and victims' families.

"In a lot of ways, it's just a number," Reyes said. "But in a lot of ways it is a significant milestone. I think it gives people a sense that if they feel like they've been trying to move on, then they've achieved that accomplishment. Ten years is somehow significant."

Reyes, who worked at the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, fell from the seventh floor of the Murrah Building to the third floor. His father, Antonio "Tony" C. Reyes, who also worked for HUD, didn't survive.

"We generally come to the memorial services," Michael Reyes said. "This year it seemed very important."

Steven Korell sat on the ground in front of his aunt's chair, holding his daughters close as his wife knelt nearby.

Ten years ago, he was too young to have his own family. His aunt, Terry Rees, never met his wife, Alana. She never played with Avory, 6, or Lora, 2.

But he's made sure they all know about Aunt Terry and the Christmases he spent at her house.

"They know her name, and they talk about her," he said.

Doris Delman, Rees' mother, said anniversaries are hard on her.

"Any time you start thinking about it, it gets to you," she said. "In the night you wake up, and you think about it. In the morning, you think about it, too. It keeps a hole in your heart."

Tearing up, she added: "I'll just be glad when this day is over."

"I come out here every April 19," said Alice Maroney Denison. "But I also try to come on Father's Day and just any day that I don't think I can make it through. I come out here for a little peace when it's not quite so public, and I have a little time at his chair, just between he and I."

Denison hasn't forgotten what happened to her father, Mickey B. Maroney, a Secret Service worker. She knows she never will.

"Some days it seems like 10 years have passed, and some days it feels like yesterday."

But she and her mother and brother are learning that each new day comes incrementally easier even if it is hard to know her almost 8-year-old son will never have a chance to play with "Papa Mickey."

"He loved children," she said. "The neighborhood kids would come knock on the door and say, 'Can Mickey play?' So to know that my son missed out on that is sad, but I'm glad to know he has the guardian angel that he has. I'm blessed to know that."

Rick Choate sat alone across from the chairs at the memorial Tuesday clutching a navy blue jacket with a patch that read U.S. Customs Service.

Choate's chin quivered as he tried to talk about the two friends and fellow customs agents Paul Ice and Claude A. Medearis killed in the bombing.

Choate was a customs agent for eight years. He lives outside Mission, Texas.

"I knew a lot of people lost in the bombing," said Choate, a former University of Oklahoma police officer.

Tuesday was his first time to come back to Oklahoma City and the bombing site.

"I'm scared," Choate said. "I'm being selfish because I don't know what it is going to do to me. I came here today to try to face things and see if it will help in my recovery."

Choate was assigned to the McAllen, Texas, customs office at the time of the bombing. He worked in Oklahoma City for three days after the bombing with the medical examiner and searched for evidence in the debris for another day.

Choate retired in October 2000 from the federal government with post-traumatic stress disorder.

He said the bombing set off the problems that eventually led to his medical retirement.

Chili, a 12-year-old search and rescue dog, returned to Oklahoma City Tuesday.

She is retired now and has gained a few pounds.

Her owner, Jeff Kirk of Enid was surprised by his dog's actions during the anniversary service.

"She wants to go search," Kirk said. "She normally doesn't want to do that in public."

He said some of the dogs in the bombing died because they were grieving.

"She was young and made it through it," said Kirk, a volunteer search and rescue worker.

Ryan Montgomery stood silently and kneeled alone in front of the memorial chair representing the life of a fellow co-worker, Cheryl Hammon, 44, killed on the first floor Social Security Administration office.

Montgomery and Hammon worked together at Manor Care Health Services. Hammon had taken off that day to get her 3-month-old grandson, Gabreon D.L. Bruce, a Social Security card.

Hammon's daughter, Daina Bradley, also was at the building and was the survivor whose right leg had to be amputated so she could be freed from the rubble. Bradley's 3-year-old daughter, Peachlyn Bradley, also was killed, and Daina Bradley's sister was injured.

"Today is hard," Montgomery said. "It does get a little bit easier. But I never want people to forget."

Cordelia Bozeman was talking and smiling as she was carried on a stretcher from the rows of memorial seats Tuesday as the families gathered.

"When I stand still, I get woozy," Bozeman said after fainting.

Emergency Medical Services Authority medics and Oklahoma City police chaplains Jack and Phyllis Poe worked to calm down her daughter, Janet Walker.

Walker's husband, David Jack Walker, died while working for the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development.

LaKesha R. Levy may have been represented best at Tuesday's memorial services. More than 60 of her relatives were in Oklahoma City for the anniversary though only 59 attended the service.

"This is the largest group of family members to attend an anniversary," said Karen Elam, Levy's aunt from Memphis, Tenn. "My sister started coordinating this a year ago."

The family sported gray T-shirts commemorating the anniversary. Each bore a poem, titled "We Remember," that was written by a relative.

"Everybody brought gifts and T-shirts," said Kortez Mason, 15, Levy's cousin. "We've got the boot that she was wearing that day and teddy bears and everything else that we can think of."

The boot, ripped and discolored by the bomb blast, came into the family's possession after a macabre mishap. After the bombing, Levy was buried with the wrong leg in an above-ground crypt in New Orleans. It wasn't until more than a month later, when her actual leg was matched to her, that the mistake was discovered.

"The boot is the boot that LaKesha wore on the day of the bombing," said relative Shaunti Dominguez, 24. "It's the only thing that we have of hers from that day."

Sheila R. Gigger-Driver's family gathered around her chair facing the bright morning sun to remember her and Gregory N. Driver II, who Sheila was pregnant with when the bomb exploded.

"She was a faithful church member," her sister-in-law Linda Gigger said. "She was a faithful member; she went to church three to four days a week. It's important that people remember and respect what happened here and still support it."

Sophia Gigger said her aunt tried to bring people into church.

"She was very spiritual," she said. "She was a very happy person."

Jim Quinn and Joan O'Donell came from New York to pay their respects to the Oklahoma City bombing victims. They lost eight friends in the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks.

"We know what it's about," Quinn said. "We're glad to be here for the 10th anniversary to pay our respects. It unites people. That's what makes it great to be Americans."

The two complimented the design of the memorial, saying many of their friends wish New York would build something similar.

"It's very peaceful," Quinn said.

New York fireman Roger Kilfoil was one of 43 New York firefighters to come to Oklahoma City and lay flowers on all 168 chairs. Kilfoil asked to place the flowers on the children's chairs.

Chair by chair he stopped, knelt down on one knee in his dark uniform and placed the memorials.

"I've got three kids, so I know it's tough," he said. "I find the people to be very friendly and hospitable. We're all Americans and it's times like this we can celebrate the strength and resilience of our cities and our people."

Kilfoil lost a cousin and five firefighting friends in the attacks in New York.

An emotional Jennifer Bartlebaugh attended her first anniversary service Tuesday since her pregnant aunt was killed in the bombing.

"I always sheltered myself away from it," said Bartlebaugh, of Mustang.

Her aunt, Robbin Huff, and her unborn baby, Amber Denise Huff, were killed in the Federal Employees Credit Union. She was 32 weeks pregnant.

"I just couldn't face it," Bartlebaugh said as sirens sounded in the background, a reminder of that morning in 1995. "I just couldn't face it."

Gerald Lindsey's sister, Carol Louise Bowers, was a supervisor with the Social Security Administration. He gathered with his family Tuesday and was pleased with the services. He and his wife had to wait for people to walk past his sister's chair while another relative tried to take pictures.

He knew there would be a large crowd.

"She could have retired the year before, but she thought she was too young," he said. "She was very dedicated. She liked her job. I guess that's one reason she didn't retire."

Oklahoma City Mayor Mick Cornett said the anniversary ceremony shows the city and its people have rebounded.

"It's an emotional place," he said. "Hallowed ground. And it's beautiful. It's just a place that people feel an attachment to."

If the bombing showed the world one thing it proved, "If it can happen in Oklahoma City, it can happen in their back yard," Cornett said.

Two Texas firefighters had trouble making their way to the grounds of the Oklahoma City National Memorial on Tuesday because of the tight security on downtown street corners.

They spent five days, working at least 18 hours each shift, at the bombed-out building.

Jerry Click and Frank Bickel, of Garland, Texas, said they drove four hours to be told to come back to the memorial Tuesday afternoon.

"We didn't want to participate, we just wanted to come back," Click said after the pair made their way onto the memorial grounds. "It was a defining point that changed our lives.

"I believe for the better," Click said. "After seeing how bitter a couple of guys were at us and what they did, I don't get angry any more."

Stephanie Pope sat with her legs crossed on the grass next to the chair with the name of her mother, Brenda Faye Daniels, a teacher and cook at the day care. Shirley Coleman, Daniels' sister, leaned against the side of the chair. Coleman's sunglasses couldn't hide the drying tears etched against her face.

"I don't need an invitation to come down here," Pope said. "It's kind of peaceful and then sometimes it's hard because she's not here and I can't talk to her."

The peace usually comes, Pope said, when she thinks about her mother being in heaven.

Coleman, who drove from Arlington, Texas, said she knows her sister is with God, but still wishes she was with her and that no one was in downtown Oklahoma City remembering April 19, 1995.

Daniels' birthday was on Feb. 10. Coleman's is Feb. 11. The two always celebrated their birthdays together. She misses those days, though she said her sister would appreciate the memorial.

All the friends and relatives at the memorial reminded Coleman of the bombing day people scrambling to find their loved ones.

"On the first one, we were going building to building, hospital to hospital," she said. "We didn't know where she was but now we know this is her chair. And now she's in heaven."