Oklahoma City Survivors Rebuild Their Lives
April 19, 2005 — -- Ten years ago today, chaos erupted in Oklahoma City when Timothy McVeigh's truck bomb destroyed the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building, killing 168 people.
But the city and the survivors have been rebuilding, and in many ways, have become stronger than ever.
"It seems like another place and another time. This is a completely different city," said Mayor Mick Cornett.
City on the Mend
At first, the divorce rate tripled among rescuers who witnessed the carnage and the suicide rate jumped. Now there is a new ballpark, a new downtown and 100,000 new residents.
"We cannot allow our past to poison our future," said Jack Poe, an Oklahoma City chaplain. "I think we've all chosen here in Oklahoma City that we're going to get better."
The survivors agree. Amy Petty worked on the third floor of the federal building. She was buried under rubble for six hours. But she is one of the lucky ones: Eighteen of her 33 co-workers were killed.
"I miss them dearly," Petty said. "That doesn't mean that I need to stop living my life. I've got to live."
'Touched by God'
Perhaps the most tragic images and stories to come out of the bombing were of the children who were killed. Dozens of children attended a day care center on the second floor of the building. Only six survived.
P.J. Allen was one of the most severely injured of those six survivors. Just 20 months old, he was thrown dozens of feet through debris and fire.
No one knows how he survived.
"When I was in the bombing, I was wrapped in fire," P.J. said. "I had second- and third-degree burns and they said I wasn't going to live, but God came and he healed me.
"I learned what it feels to have God actually touch you."
A Father Feeling Helpless
Christopher Nguyen, who began high school this year, was the third child rescued from the building. He suffered burns, a broken jaw, and cuts and bruises to his head and body.
"Most people don't ever have to go through this, so they don't know what it's like to have to worry about almost dying," he said.
Chris' father, Thu Nguyen, remembers the first moment he saw his son after the bombing -- the 4-year-old lying in a hospital bed, his skin burned off, debris lodged in his body.
"I never forget that day," he said. "The feeling of a father, helpless."
Injuries a Constant Reminder
Lavern McCloud's daughter, Nekia, is 14 now. The girl with the sweet smile and gentle disposition doesn't say much. Nekia suffered severe brain trauma as a result of the blast. She is developmentally delayed and attends special-needs classes.
"She was walking and talking, you know, at 4 years old," McCloud said. "And after that [the bombing] happened she had to relearn everything all over -- how to walk, talk and everything."
P.J.'s wounds are also very much present. Though the 11-year-old doesn't recall that day, his injuries are still obvious -- the scar on his throat, his labored breathing and his quiet voice recall the tube he wore for nine years.
The tube was recently removed, allowing him to attend public school for the first time. But he says he will always wear his scars like a badge of honor.
For Christopher, it's his heart that bears the scars of the bombing.
"I looked at the chairs of three friends of ours who died at such a young age and it was unbearable, and we couldn't stop crying," he said.
Grateful for the Simple Things
All of the survivors say the experience taught them valuable lessons, especially how to have gratitude for the simple things.
McCloud says of her daughter: "Just to have her here. You know, that's a double blessing."
Christopher says he learned to never take life for granted, because it can be taken away so easily.
P.J., who was told that he would never talk or sing again and is now doing both, believes that, in many ways, the bombing changed his life for the better.
"My life is kind of different because of the bombing, so that means that since most people haven't been through what I've been through, that makes me think that I have something special to do in the future," he said.