|"Oklahoma's Blood," 8 x 10 watercolor|
Much has been written, and more will, by people far more affected than I was, and am--I don't wish to detract from those stories and emotions.
I can recount where I was, what I did, as everyone can who remembers that day, so I've written in my private pandemic journal today, but it seems insignificant in contrast to those who suffered.
I have one perspective to share as a journalist and Oklahoman. I was working part time at The Oklahoman then as a copy editor, at night, so I was witness to the people who covered that event and the followup.
The role of that newspaper and its staff was critical in holding and pulling the community, the entire state, through the horror. Every morning, it was a much-needed symbol, a voice, of and for the people, an assurance that there was still goodness and hope and normality. There was no more room for hatred.
That seems appropriate these days of pandemic, when Americans so need to know there is hope, and goodness and normality. Discounting and bashing news sources covering this current disaster only spreads a virus of hatred when we least need it.
To me, that is one of the lessons from a quarter century ago.
Instead of more words, when words won't work, here's today's watercolor from my emotions.