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Shocked nation looks on in disbelief
No one can believe it. It's unexplainable, inconceivable,
and inhumane. We've all seen the results, and we will
experience the feelings of unrest and disappointment for
years to come.
The friends and families of all those who perished in the
horrid explosion in Oklahoma City, and of those who have
yet to be retrieved from the wreckage, will never be the
same again. Their lives have been permanently effected,
questions drowning their broken hearts. They will never
understand the motive behind such a devastating event.
We've all been wondering who in this world would even
think of such a display of malicious actions. To think of
such death and destruction and then follow through with it,
demands explanations. Humans murdering fellow
innocent humans, including children who haven't even had
a chance to live yet, is unacceptable behavior. I'm
assuming that most of us are full of hate and remorse
because of such a tragedy. I have to admit that I would
like to see more than justice done to these disgusting
individuals.
However, I also have to admit that there is a part of my
heart that is telling me to transfer my hate into sorrow, and
focus not on the criminals. Rather, I should focus on the
victims of the disaster. If I did that, which I am trying
desperately to do, the amount of energy stored inside of
me in the form of hate would be much more productive
and comforting for myself and for those around me.
I remember one day in an American Studies course
taught by Dr. Loss in which he was discussing the
Vietnam experience. While explaining what the hell really
happened, he said aomething that stuck like glue in my
mind. "Violence begets violence," he said.
And you know what? He was right.
After hearing this statement, I have been trying to
implement its meaning into my every day life. The world
seems to be challenging me more and more every day.
This Oklahoma City incident has got to be the most trying
so far.
I saved that picture of the little girl dying in the arms of a
firefighter. I look at it and cry. She didn't have a chance,
despite the efforts of all those who fought to save those in
need of rescue. It comfort me, however, to once again
transfer my focus to the uninhibited attempts to save lives,
made by men and women present at the scene. The entire
nation has come together to mourn and to try to get a grip
on what's been happening, especially as of late.
I take the elevator at work to get to the fourth floor, and
ever since this incident, I have been aware of the fear that
must have been instilled in the bodies and minds of those
trapped in demolished building. I try to avoid imagining
what the hell would happen to me if that elevator that I ride
every day suddenly caved in and held me prisoner for three
days, preventing anyone from the outside from finding
See You Next Year!
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me, from hearing me cry and pray out loud that I would be all right.
I try to avoid imagining what the children caught in the explosion went through, as they
were away from their parents and had no one around to hold their hands or wipe their
tears. I feel more alone in that elevator every day, and pray that nothing ever happens
like that which occurred in Oklahoma City every, ever again.
'toot, JulieStodror.
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