It was 15 years ago just after nine o’clock in the morning that an explosion rocked my house. My wife, Corey, ran outside as did our neighbors because whatever it was, we were sure it was in the neighborhood, or very nearby.
Well, it turns out it was about 13 miles away in downtown Oklahoma City where Timothy McVeigh had driven a load of fertilizer and fuel oil to the front of the Alfred Murrah Federal Building and blown the thing up.
The hours that followed make up what I’ve come to understand as the worst day of my life — and yet it was so much worse for so many others.
The 14-hours that I spent on the air that day were like a bad trick you play on a dog where there is no treat at the end. Even with so many deaths, we were just certain we would spend perhaps a few days watching miraculous rescues. But no, it wasn’t that kind of a story. And I’ll never forget the middle of that afternoon when one of our reporters asked a nurse why she was leaving the triage area. She said she was being sent home. Our reporters asked why, and she said, on live television beamed all over the world, “Because there’s no one to save.”
Fifteen years later, that phrase still haunts me. No one to save…
And yet, something else was happening, something that would take a little longer to process. Oklahomans hoping to donate blood created traffic backups miles long and were asked to come back the next day. Requests started to come from the bomb site — blankets, water, gloves, food — and every one of them was answered in minutes. And it seemed as if the entire world had run to Oklahoma City. Workers, supplies, rescue dogs, and of course millions of prayers poured in from everywhere.
We drove around with our headlights on to show support and love for the families involved. And the site of every car with headlights blazing at midday meant you had to contend with not just the traffic, but your tears as well. And the love and kindness that the bombing inspired is actually still very present in Oklahoma City today. It’s a tough thing to say, but it’s a better city than it was before.
It’s quite the irony. But the worst day of my life turned me into an optimist. Oklahoma City remains for me a sermon on the power of love. I’d give anything to have those 168 beautiful lives back. But what I learned on April 19, 1995 is that for every one truly evil person in the world, there are millions of good souls ready to drop everything to help someone they don’t know.
That’s not a bad world at all.
-Devin
