Checking out OK--TRIP 3 (2012)

What a glorious morning now that clouds and rain have moved on East. Word has it that we can expect three or four days in the high 70's or low 80's before the cold front from Canada penetrates this far south. Then winter will be on the way.

The Oklahoma City Memorial is designed for reflection.

Moved almost to tears by the outdoor symbolic Oklahoma City National Memorial, I stood next to Andy and looked out over the reflecting pool, set placidly between two monstrous walls of black granite. The Memorial and Museum remember the 168 who lost their lives in the Oklahoma City bombing of 1995, and honors the more than 700 who were injured that day, April 19.  I read the inscription overhead:


Between the massive Gates of Time, the
reflecting pool ripples quietly.

WE COME HERE TO REMEMBER THOSE WHO WERE KILLED, THOSE WHO SURVIVED AND THOSE CHANGED FOREVER. MAY ALL WHO LEAVE HERE KNOW THE IMPACT OF VIOLENCE. MAY THIS MEMORIAL OFFER COMFORT, STRENGTH, PEACE, HOPE AND SERENITY.

It was a chilling reminder of what mindless hate and violence can do.
That morning the Oklahoma Water Resources Board convened their 9:00 a.m. meeting directly across the street. The recording of the meeting captured the sounds of the blast. And amid the search for victims, a key piece of evidence was uncovered. As a consequence, the perpetrators were captured almost immediately.
The Memorial Grounds, situated on 3.3 acres in downtown Oklahoma City, mark the site where the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building once stood.  Ahead of us a shallow reflecting pool spanned the Memorial Grounds, flanked at both ends by the monumental Gates of Time, twin slabs of granite that frame the moment of destruction. The shallow water of the pool bubbles softly, soothing the wounds with calm sounds in a peaceful setting for quiet thoughts.
"I wonder why one Gate is marked 9:01 and the other, 9:03," mused Andy. We asked a Ranger on duty.
"That's the minute before the bomb blast and the minute after," she explained, "the minute of life and the minute when everything in the world changed."  Timothy McVeigh had driven to the building and set the timer for 9:02 a.m., taking 168 lives.

Empty chairs, 168 in number, float above the ground on
translucent glass bases to mark the lives lost in 1995.

The design for the Memorial was selected by an international competition, with 624 entries submitted from every state and 23 countries. The winning design, created by the Butzer Design Partnership, was chosen by a committee of family members, survivors, rescuers, civic leaders and design professionals.
To my left was the Field of Empty Chairs--bronze and glass chairs, individually handcrafted, uniform but with no two exactly alike. Each chair symbolizes a life lost, a person who was killed in the bomb blast, and the chairs are arranged in nine rows for the nine floors of the Murrah Building where the deceased worked or visited. Five chairs removed on the western edge stand for the five people killed on the street outside the building.  Each bronze and stone chair rests on a glass base with the name of a victim etched in the glass.  By day, the chairs seem to float above the translucent bases; by night, the glass bases illuminate as beacons of hope for peace.
Andy and I looked out in awe and humility. Here stood the Murrah Building, outlined by a granite path, the granite that was salvaged from the Murrah Plaza.  The names of 800 survivors are engraved on large slabs of granite, recovered from the building after the bombing.
To the right, the 90-plus year-old Survivor Tree, an American elm that withstood the force of the bomb, stands today, although badly damaged, as a symbol of resilience. The inscription reads: The spirit of this city and this nation will not be defeated; our deeply rooted faith sustains us.
It is surrounded on the far side by the Rescuers Orchard, nut-bearing and flower-bearing trees, planted to encircle the Survivor Tree for protection. The inscription reads: To the courageous and caring who responded from near and far, we offer our eternal gratitude.

Hundred of tokens remain displayed on the Fence.

The first Fence, installed around the Memorial to protect the site of the Murrah Building, became a makeshift memorial with more than 60,000 tokens of love and caring. Today more than 200 feet of the original Fence give people the opportunity to leave tokens of remembrance and hope.  The site of thousands of tiny remembrances, like stuffed animals, bracelets and tee-shirts is almost too much to bear, even so many years later.

Towering over our heads, the Weeping Jesus faces away
from the scene of terrible destruction and loss.

Across the street is the site of a parish church, St. Joseph Old Cathedral, so badly damaged it had to be torn down. There, a statue in Italian marble of the weeping Jesus stands high, back turned away from the scene of destruction, and facing a black stone wall with 168 crevices. The shortest verse in the Bible, "Jesus wept," expresses the sorrow of so many about that fateful day in 1995. This Memorial was dedicated in May of 1997, but here too, the emphasis is on the remembrance and the healing, rather than the hatred and the blame.
Nearby, a wall of tiles hand painted by children and sent to Oklahoma City in 1995, offers messages of thanks to the rescuers, as well as messages of hope and peace to all visitors.  The tragedy produced a national outpouring of care and concern through cards and letters.
In addition, the bombing impacted all America with changes in security levels and new Congressional legislation prompted by family members and survivors to protect us in the future.  Oklahoma City is a moving tribute to our free country and our values of liberty and equality for all.

The Beacon of Hope
reaches for the sky.
 

The Beacon of Hope towers over the surroundings at Stiles Park, Founders Plaza, on the corner of Stiles and Northeast Sixth Street. The first park in the Oklahoma Territory, it was dedicated August 29, 1901."I think a lot of these buildings are cancer research facilities," said Andy.
Appropriate, I thought. The Beacon of Hope in the center of the plaza rose hundreds of feet in the air and the white composite glistened in the morning sun. We squinted, barely able to look at the brilliant pillar. "I need sun glasses," said Andy, "since my good pair broke. I can't even see in this light."

Tribal rule and state
government combine to
set law and order in OK.

The sign said that the beam at night reaches a mile into the sky, a symbol of the power of the human spirit in pursuit of the healing and luminous empowerment of hope.
We walked around the Veterans Memorial. Bronze plaques of names had all been removed for repair. "I have to get some sun glasses," complained Andy again. The brilliance was punishing.  A stiff breeze relieved the burning as we circled the entire State Capitol Building, admiring the mature oak trees, the flags of every Indian tribe nation, the brilliant red and orange fall flowers, and the bronze statues. Especially beautiful was the modern sculpture As Long as the Water Flows by Allan Houser. Around each corner of the Capitol towered an oil rig.  A sign in the main parking lot identified one rig as "Wild Mary," the most publicized oil rig in the world.  Oil had been discovered about six miles to the south of the present day Capitol Building in 1928.  Wild Mary blew in 1930 and couldn't be contained for eleven full days.
The Myriad Botanical Gardens covered a couple square blocks right in the heart of downtown. An oasis in the city, the outdoor gardens welcomed visitors with sculptured flower beds lined by grasses, falling water, fountains, bronze statues and mature trees.

The geodesic dome and gardens
offer a place of retreat right in the heart
of downtown Oklahoma City.

"They seem to favor oaks here," said Andy.  "But it surprises me how many cypress I see because they love lots of water."  A crew of Mexicans swept the decorative gravel beds.  "It also just kills me to see so many dead trees everywhere," said Andy. "The drought has hurt so much and these are super valuable, old trees worth thousands of dollars.  Some were even brought in because you can still see the burlap cloth balls near the bases."
"And most of these have drip irrigation," I said, "so either the timing was terrible because of the drought or the roots were too deep and the irrigation just too little on the surface."

Roses, mostly past peak, bloom
around the statues at the
Will Rogers Botanical Gardens.

Across the street another contingent of Mexicans installed all new irrigation tubing for the ground cover in front of all-glass, block-long Devon Energy Company.  We walked through the Meinders Garden complex and past the geodesic dome and the Children's Garden, where at least a hundred third graders on a school field trip played after lunch.  Then we watched the meter maid give tickets as we shared a bottle of water on the stone park bench.  We had ten minutes of paid parking left.  We could relax.

The statue of Will
Rogers surrounded by
flowers emphasizes the
man's sense of humor.

Thirty-two acres of highly-landscaped formal gardens at Will Rogers Gardens offered a riot of early fall colors, even if most of the roses were past blooming peak.  The Charles E. Sparks Municipal Rose Garden, the Azalea Memory Trail and the Margaret Annis Boys Arboretum provided an hour's worth of paths to stroll.  Andy checked out all the trees and I got pictures of turtles, butterflies, flowers and fountains."It really amazes me that cypress trees grow so well here," he said.  We talked about plans for a formal flower garden at the end of our driveway. "That will be my project for next spring," Andy said.The packed screening gravel path took us past the extensive evergreen collection, the garden's oak tree collection, the maple collection, the elm collection, to a small roofed structure called the Temple of Love. We followed the path across delicate bridges, past the Iris Garden gate and the Peony Garden gazebo, around small ponds and over rolling slopes. I set the camera on timed photo to get pictures of both of us. A tranquil resting place, the picturesque retreat offered a shady recess from the bustle of the city.  Will Rogers was a well-liked humorist from Oklahoma, who was popular during the Depression. The garden is a tribute to his optimism.

Still pretty sharp looking after nearly 18 years,
Little Red follows Route 66.

West of town, the Route 66 Park included a huge, colorful playground for young children on the shores of Lake Overholser.  One family set up a badminton net, and another family walked along the shore in the grass.  Man made by the dammed tributary of the Oklahoma River, the lake offered boating and fishing, as well.
"Other than right downtown, there isn't much building going on," said Andy, "but I'm impressed with the cleanliness of the city and all the trees.  They are really set on beautification, and that's neat!"