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"We come here to remember those who were killed,
those who survived and those changed forever."
Many people from all over the state lost
someone, or knew someone that lost someone.
A doctor of mine lost a dear friend. Another
friend
was a Red Cross Nurse that went to help in
the morgue. The many courageous rescue
workers, spent countless hours in
unbelievable places, who are still haunted by
what they saw. Many of my friends worked on
the
stained glass windows from St. Joseph's
Old Cathedral. What happened that day touched
countless lives. And survivors that were in
the building that day, a few just couldn't
live with the trauma that haunted them. And
have since taken their own lives. Fathers
and
Mothers lost children. Children lost fathers
and mothers. Brothers, sisters, uncles,
aunts, and so on. So many of those killed
were in their 30's and 40's, the
prime of their lives.
The Horror
The Fence
The Fence that was set up around the bombing site became a spontaneous memorial. As people came to see, they felt compelled to leave personal items. Each time I visited I was always amazed at all the items left. And from so many places, from all around the world. That is when it really hit, that the world had been watching us. At how small this world has become. And that the compassion of the world overpowered the violence of a few.
A feeling of respectful quiet has existed here. No matter what time of day, or what day of the week, or how many people are there at the time. Everyone is speaking in soft low voice. Reading all the poems, messages and looking at all many different items. From license plates, service metals, toys, bears, and photos. If you look in the photo you will see in the middle a purple page. This is the poem I wrote and left on the fence. So many lives where shattered. As a stained glass artist I felt it was my responsibility to the history of the glass for it to be remembered as well.
The Survivor Tree
The Words
A View of 5th Street