| Please don't forget.
Today I drove up to the mountains. I sat next to a creek fed by snow melt and rain, and I listened as the wind swept through the pine trees. Here surrounded by God and what I cherish the most, life itself in peace, I fought back the tears as I remembered the horrors of 5 years ago - our search for the victims who died in the Oklahoma City Bombing.
For today, I was invited to bring my search dog partner Valorie to Oklahoma City and be a part of the opening ceremony at the Oklahoma City Bombing Memorial. I thought long and hard about whether I should make the trip or not. When I finished, I decided I just couldn't handle the memories, the horror, the cries of pain, anger, and sadness all over again. I don't need a memorial to remind me, I just have to close my eyes. The vision of death will always be there for me.
Everyone keeps telling me how horrible it must have been to be a part of that rescue effort. Seeing the cold lifeless men, women, and children lying amongst the ruins. Their bodies and body parts, and blood staining the walls, walkways, debris fields, and what was left of the ceilings. I keep telling them, it's no different than any other of the disasters we respond to, where we see and smell the same things. The only difference with this disaster, was that this disaster was caused by human stupidity. 168 men, women, children, lost their lives because a group of people somewhere along the way lost their ability to talk, listen, and communicate. They took their built up anger out on the innocent, forever changing our country.
I remember my first assignment when I arrived Friday night was to clear the fourth floor area. As I stepped into the tangled rebar and fractured concrete debris, I turned my head lamp on so I could see where I was walking. My lamp shined down upon a woman's remains lying directly in front of me. Her head, arms, legs were gone. Just her naked torso was laying there, covered in fertilizer that hadn't detonated. The explosion ripped her clothing from her body.
Instead of stepping over her and moving on, I took the time and covered her remains with a space blanket I had in my pack. I've seen thousands of bodies and body parts, till this day I often wonder why I covered her up. I guess I was just thinking, "if that was one of my family members, how would I have wanted her remains to be treated? - With utmost respect."
My search dog Valorie immediately alerted to her corpse and laid next to my pack, whining. SAR dogs get upset at death just as we do. The scene grew silent around me. The fireman who had been digging on my right came over after hearing SAR dog Valorie's whining and asked me "what was wrong with your dog?" When I pulled up the space blanket, the fireman just stood and stared in silence. There were tears in his eyes as he covered the remains back up. He walked to my search dog, knelt down and leaned over to pet my search dog. SAR Dog Valorie licked the tears from his face and he sat down next to her and cried. He held Valorie in his arms and just cried. I put my hands on his shoulders and cried alongside him.
After a few minutes, we pulled ourselves together and returned to work. For each body we stepped around during the search, there was either a searcher, a fireman, or a police officer, standing next to the victim's remains with tears of sadness coming from their eyes. I worked my way through the assigned area and then was asked to move to the pit. The pit was the area of the structure where the children's day care had been.
We moved carefully around the debris and marked four more spots where search dog Valorie alerted to dead human remains under the rubble. I later found out there were 4 dead children and 6 dead adults under the debris piles where Valorie alerted.
I then went outside, sat about 100 yards away from where the bomb had gone off, and I held my search dog Valorie and I cried. A minister hearing my cries, came over and together we cried, prayed, and tried to make sense of what had happened here.
Through prayer I was able to transform my anger, my sadness, and my hatred for the person(s) who performed this horrible act of cowardice. I didn't want to feel hate as it was hate that caused all of this destruction.
All through the search efforts on Friday and Saturday my search dog partner never left my side, and through the horrors of what we found, Valorie was always ready to give love to anyone who needed it. A family member begging for us to find his daughter, a fireman who collapsed on the ground from exhaustion, a small child peering through the barrier fence with his family watching all of us work.
On our plane ride back to Oregon on the following Tuesday I wrote the following words. |
| I look into their eyes. The live, the dead, their families, the survivors, the rescuers, the rescue dogs. We share their loss, their pain, their sorrows.
All the damage, the buildings, streets, bodies, cars, our lives, their lives, humanity.
Our hearts scream for justice as we pray for miracles. As I choke back the tears of anger and anguish, I see love, compassion, and patience. I hold my SAR Dog Valorie close and I cry, God, how can someone do this to someone else?
As we try to find peace in our hearts I just have to look into my partners eyes (Valorie) and through Gods gift to me (my search dog), I learn there is hope for this world.
We all want to help. To take their pain away, like so many searchers before me, and with me, we are shocked at the horror we see.
We now have to leave, not wanting to, but we must get back to our homes, our families, our jobs. With a hevy heart and tears in our eyes, we say "Goodbye".
Tonight when I get off the plane and get home, I'll hold my son close in my arms and I'll share with him what all the people from the Oklahoma City Disaster site shared with me. A WHOLE LOT OF LOVE. God Bless Them All.
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