The Day Terrorism Came to Oklahoma City

Running up the street toward the Alfred Murrah Federal Building I could see that it had been blown up.  The eight-story building was now a cratered mess, debris, collapsed floors and then there was the blood.

It would later come out that an American who had served in Gulf War 1 and others had driven a Ryder truck filled with fertilizer and accelerant into the drive-through of the building, lit a fuse and walked away.  At 9:03 on the morning of April 19, 1995, the blast killed 168 including children in a second-floor daycare center.

The iconic photo from the event, taken by an amateur photographer and purchased by me was of an Oklahoma City fireman holding the body of Baylee Almon.  

My life that day changed forever.  Six months after the bombing I found myself in a rage while covering a workshop of mental health professionals and physiologists, who were showing photos that I had taken and others that day and discussing their negative impact on the United States.

I went straight into total meltdown mode, shouting at the panel, calling them idiots and storming out.  A young doctor followed me to my car.

"I can see you're upset," she said.  Then she reached out, touched my hand and looked me straight into my eyes.  "You need help," she said.

They call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and it affects people in different ways.  If you are the strong silent type, like me, your feelings are mostly suppressed as you deal with what you have to deal with.

A few days later I was on the couch in a physiatrists office pouring out my soul.  I was to spend several months with him before accepting a position as the Chief Photographer for the Associated Press in Bangkok. 

The next several years of my life were mostly a mess.  The only good part was that I loved working in southeast Asia and had no desire to ever leave.

Then the Asian Tsunami happened in 2003.

I was better prepared this time but I still reflect often on the amount of death I have seen and photographed as part of my job as the Associated Press.

For me, April 19 is always a sad day.