Blog Virus
The world's first blog virus has infected 'That's My Stapler'!

Do not be alarmed, I am assured by various computer experts that your computer will not be harmed by reading my blog - unless of course you're using Internet Exploder from Micro$oft. In that case, you have more problems to worry about ...

Symptoms of the virus include an uncontrollable urge of the blogger to infect five (5) other blogs. Not three or four and six is right out. I caught mine from a fellow Canadian (Maple Lounge), but that's no reason to ban content from the great white north eh ?

Okay, that's enough of that. I'll go along with answering the few questions to rid my blog of any bad karma that may come my way. (I needed something to write about today anyway.)

1. Number of books I own
   I own probably less than I should - about 100. Mostly techie books that I need/use for work. Otherwise when I'm finished with one, I either loan or give to somebody who might enjoy it.
   
   
2. Last book I bought
   "Five people you meet in Heaven" - for my wife for Christmas (no really). Okay, after hearing more about it, I might actually take the time to read it.
   
   
3. Last book I read
   "America - the book" (The Daily Show)
   
   
4. Five books that mean a lot to me
   
   In no particular order :
   
   • It's not about the bike - Lance Armstrong. He's not the hero nor a perfect role model, but he did go through a lot and winning six (6!) Tour de France races is no small feat.
     
     
   • America (the book) - The Daily Show. I am Canadian, but having spent a few years in the US, the subject matter in this book all too funny/true.
     
     
   • Canadian Legal Guide for Small Business - Nishan Swais. Title says it all (why would I want to pay 55% tax when I can start a corporation and ... ?)
     
     
   • Design Patterns - GangOfFour. Geek stuff, mostly about re-using object oriented programming techniques to their full advantgage (not that you cared).
     
     
   • The More Than Complete Hitchhiker's Guide - Douglas Adams
     
     
5. Tag five more
   
   1. These go to eleven
      
   2. The Blog of Daniel Sale
   3. Extra Strength Boredom Relief
   4. David Duchovny
      
   5. CalgaryGrit
      
   
   

- posted by Steve @ 8:28 PM 5 comments

 
Mindbender
Today is the nineteenth anniversary of an unfortunate accident on the Mindbender roller coaster at West Edmonton Mall.

Due to negligence of Triple Five Corp., the owner/operator of the ride, the wheel assembly sheered off on the last car. This caused it to fishtail and hit a concrete foundation before entering the third loop. The train then didn't had enough speed to complete the loop - so it stopped and rolled backwards, when the last section hit the foundation again, where it came to rest. Three people were killed and one was seriously injured when they fell to the concrete floor below.

Sprechen Sie Deutsches?
Triple Five Corp. claimed there was a design flaw that caused the accident. But evidence showed that they had ignored a special inspection order from Schwarzkopf GmbH, the manufacturer of the roller coaster. Cars were checked only by visual inspections and not by taking them out from service. It was later determined that visual inspections alone would not have been adequate to determine if screws or bolts were loose.

Furthermore, the Schwarzkopf manual had never been translated from German into English - It directed workers to perform weekly checks on all the screws and bolts. After the accident it was discovered that one-quarter of all the axle bolts on the trains were loose and/or had damaged cranks.

The ride was closed for several months and reopened in a modified form with shorter trains using non-trailered cars and over-the-shoulder restraints. After the inquiry and several other incidents at other rides around the world, shoulder bars and/or lap bars became mandatory on all rides that traverse loops like the Mindbender.

Nine Lives
Would I ride the Mindbender roller coaster again ? Maybe, but probably not. And not just because we shouldn't trust our lives with minimum wage earners who weren't trained to maintain the ride properly (or can't read German).

I haven't been on the Mindbender since 1986. You see, the night it crashed, my friends and I were gathering at my friend's acreage so we could all go the "mall" and ride the roller coaster. Some of us hadn't yet been on this thrilling new ride at the world's largest indoor amusement park.

We would have been on that ride, possibly at the time of the accident, but something else occurred. I decided to take my friend's motorbike out for one last go at the subdivision's twisty corners. I didn't make the first turn.

Somewhere on that turn, at breakneck speed and carrying a passenger (my friend's little brother), I lost control and I don't remember anything other than the engine racing as the bike flew into the ditch. My friend's brother was okay. I spent a week in the hospital with pulled back muscles, scratches on my face and arms and several compressed vertebra - one broken/cracked.

Hindsight
I was young and I recovered eventually, but of course my back does hurt when I get tired or strain it. I consider myself lucky as the hospital's therapist gave me daily lectures (with a life-side bone model) of how close I came to paralyzing myself. The scars are still visible (to me) and I am very sorry for what I put everyone through.

Anyway, I don't ride a motorcycle anymore. I don't think I've been on a roller coaster since the accident either. Suffice is to say that I know I enjoy speed too much and that I don't have that many lives left (see the other posts in this blog).
- posted by Steve @ 8:22 PM 0 comments

 
Identity Theft
Identity theft is unnerving. It's not like when you had your house or car broken into or your wallet stolen - and you knew right away that you were a victim. When someone steals your identity, you don't know if/when it will stop.

If you were a victim of identity theft you would know what I'm talking about. That paranoid feeling I remember having after our house was broken into just doesn't compare. You see, our problems were not the direct result of lack of diligence regarding our personal information as the Royal Bank's minimal webpage on the subject describes :

While there is no silver bullet in preventing identity theft, there are things you can do to help minimize your risk and protect your identity...

One Friday, a few years ago, my wife was traveling to visit her family. As was the case every once in a while, I logged on to our RBC account on the internet and noticed that $800 had been withdrawn that day. My wife and I hardly ever withdrew large amounts so I immediately phoned that bank to try and track down the anomaly.

They noticed that it was a joint account and suggested that my wife had withdrew the amount - especially if she was traveling and thought she needed the money. I was still suspicious, but agreed that I should check with her.

The blame game
My wife confirmed that night that she had not withdrawn any money ! We went down to our branch that next Monday to find out what was happening. I had not known anybody that was a victim of identity theft before and still didn't suspect that was the case with our missing money. The teller redirected our inquiry to the manager...

The bank manager produced documents that "showed that my wife not only withdrew the money, she paid the phone bill!" When the manager left the room for whatever reason, we stared bleakly at the paperwork thrust at us.

"Don't leave mail lying around"
My wife realized that she had paid that phone bill the week before by cheque in the mail AND the signature on the facsimile of the withdrawal slip hardly looked like hers ! We asked them to look closely at it. They said it was a little shaky, but looked somewhat like the one they "had on file." I was about to suggest that they don't check signatures against what they have on file, but I didn't think that comment was going to help our quest.

After a few more terse comments, they finally agreed to "start an investigation" - but if it was not 'their' fault, we would have to pay for it !?! We were also told that if we felt we were the victim of a crime, we would have to fill out a crime report with the RCMP. I think they also suggested they would need it for the investigation.

Before we left, I queried them about "how is that anybody can withdraw money from our account without ID nor a debit card - you guys ask me to swipe it each time I come in !?" They replied that it isn't always convenient for some of their customers to provide ID and debit card.

So, we eventually got our money back. The police determined that the street corner mail drop off box got broken into that week and it was probably Meth-heads that perpetrated the crime. They said that may be the end of the identity theft against us - but we changed all our credit cards, bank accounts and automatic withdrawals anyway. I don't believe Canada Post ever entered the investigation.

A Scene from Falling Down (the movie)
The day I went into the bank to pick up the new cheques (we insisted they not be mailed to us), I told them my name and that they "had some new cheques for me to pick up." They just handed them to me - without asking for ID, debit card, anything. They couldn't understand my displeasure that they "weren't being very diligent (AGAIN) regarding their customers' information."

Free Toaster ?
And RBC-Royal Bank's stance after all this ? They finally apologized after we complained the next time they made a major mistake and we wrote a terse letter claiming we were going to take our mortgage, line of credit, resp, rrsp's elsewhere.

They even gave us several months free of "service charges."
- posted by Steve @ 10:23 PM 0 comments

 
Beerfest
The Devon Days¹ Beerfest. The last time I attended this get-together was 15 years ago. I remember glaring at the old guys² who were staring at my girlfriend. But I did notice that when you attend an event like this where a majority of the crowd is half your age - you can really be a fly on the wall as most are oblivious to your existence.

Anyway, I was sure that there would be a fight or two. There was a cup of beer thrown in our general direction, but the cops surrounded him pretty quickly - he wasn't hauled off to the drunk tank³, but things settled down pretty quickly. I heard last year there were many altercations and this year they were being extra cautious. I figured he threw it in the direction of the tallest guy (who was standing by us) - to see if he would back down or ... ?

It was $20 for 7 beer/drink tickets - not a bad price for the night. Too bad I forgot we only had 3 hours to finish them (never leave a beer behind !) before we left the beerfest and headed to the Devon Hotel pub where the rest of the revellers were waiting, their butts parked for the night by the couple dozen tables. This left standing room only for us, but it was a good way to meet/greet/converse with people.

I got the usual greetings : "I haven't seen you in 15 years ! How are you ? You haven't changed a bit!" (Physically I hope they mean). A few people looked familiar, others took a little while longer. "He/She/They graduated in '8X, remember?" - which caused a spontaneous anecdote from my friend and I of how people at one party that summer were driving golf balls off my parents' front yard down main street. But we kept those old stories to a minimum (I hope).

There was the usual banal conversation with people I didn't know (before), but at least a couple leaned towards political in theme. I did find time to pick on the only guy wearing a baseball cap (at least it was frontwards) and harass the goof who was not wearing any shoes/socks in the bar (opps, was that your toe ? Gee that's gonna hurt tomorrow). Still no fights, but baseball cap guy did get pretty annoyed ("Is the sun in your eyes dude ?") - but I didn't play the obnoxious drunk all night (I hope).

At 2am-ish it was time to get going and devour that hot dog that was waiting on the bbq outside for the last couple hours. I made it home by 2:30am - thanks to our diligent designated driver (DDD) (golf clap).

Déjà vu
At 4 am I suddenly remembered why I should not eat vendor's food on the way out of the bar. I originally woke up realizing I had been 'dreaming' about programming since I passed out. Nice - why can't I dream about the anonymous young lass that pinched my ass while we waited in the beer line ? She responded with "that's okay, I would like her too" to my pleadings that "she shouldn't do that - I'm married!"

Anyway, the dried out hot dog decided to make a second appearance much to the chagrin and annoyance of my wife who had stayed home to sleep and look after the kids.

Hmm. 15 years ago I was at the beerfest and I drank lots of beer in a few hours and we ended up at the Devon Hotel pub ...



¹ Devon Days

² BTW isn't that music rather loud and does her mother know she left the house wearing 'that' !?

³ Oklahoma City Drunk Tank
- posted by Steve @ 4:30 PM 0 comments

 
Victory in Europe
Over one million Canadians served in the Second World War and approximately 42,000 gave their lives. Per capita, Canada's contribution was one of the largest in the world - our troops played a significant role in the invasion of Normandy and in the liberation of the Netherlands.

So this week we should pause for more than a moment to remember a pair of high points in Canadian history : the liberation of Holland on May 5, 1945 and VE Day on May 8, 1945.

In the 60 years of ensuing freedom, many who survived that era have since passed on. My wife's grandmother was a war bride from England - she and her husband have passed away, so now we only have pictures from their photo albums. Most are not labeled or have names that we don't recognize. The most memorable is the one with all the war brides arriving on a ship in Halifax.

Anyway, they lived in another time and obviously myself or my children do not have to endure world wide conflicts like they did. We have their sacrifices and determination to thank for that. Lest we forget - but somehow it seems that we do in our "busy" day to day life.

I have seen several estimates that about 55 million people had lost their lives by the time Nazi Germany fell to the Allies. We owe it to all who helped to keep their memories alive - Lest we forget.
- posted by Steve @ 3:24 PM 0 comments

 
Oklahoma City Drunk Tank
A sobering view of the Oklahoma City Drunk Tank

It was a day like any other day in OKC - the daylight hours were spent toiling over billing system code, arguing with managers about deadlines, test plans and thinking of going out for a beer.

"Hey - you've had a pretty crappy day" my roommate beckoned - "let's go out!"

Out to the Red Dog Strip Club that is. A place famous for its young scantly clad girls and cheap beer. Heck, drinking beer and staring at mostly naked women (they can't be nude in Oklahoma) was hard to turn down when compared to the alternative - phone the wife from the corporate apartment, watch tv, play sega, drink beer.

So the adventure began. After rounding up about 5 other fellow transplanted Canadians, we arrived at the famous Red Dog and plunked down as close to the stage as we dared. Beers came round, someone paid and a few of us grumbled about the watery brews as most beer in Oklahoma that is sold cold has to be less than 3.2% alcohol (by volume).

After a couple of rounds of beer and stage girls, the grumbling about work stopped. We had finished the jokes about the place, its 'burger barn' chairs and tables with dark seedy corners where the women give 'lap dances.'

The single door to the large open bar opened, sending a beam of light across the stage - I turned to look. It was the cops ! Two guys about 6 feet tall, stocky and sporting crew cuts and frowns. The first cop's icy stare in our direction caused me to quickly look away. My coworker to the right of me had already completed his head twist back with a half worried smile on his face. I took advantage of the moment - "I think they've come to take you away, they don't like long hairs around here!" His shoulder length hair often got him stares at the malls and it seemed like the right time to push that paranoia button of his a little more.

The cops made a bee-line for our area, now with no expression on their faces. I turned away before my friend could respond. Now I was getting a little paranoid...

Keystone Cops

For what seemed forever, they stood behind us. You could just feel that they were staring at us. I had to sneak a peak to see if they were still there. As I turned, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Sir, would you step outside ?"

I didn't know how to respond other than the obligatory "Okay" response as I didn't want to get into trouble. One officer led me out while the other trailed behind. "Um, what's going on ? Are you looking for somebody ?" We stepped outside.

The first officer's southern accent was pretty thick with indifference : "Do you have any Identification ?"

I pulled out my wallet (no sudden moves !) and handed my Alberta Driver's license to him, taking it apart first - it was one of those old two piece licenses - created before the computerized fully laminated cards. He seemed really agitated now. I responded with the explanation that "it's a Canadian license - perhaps you haven't seen one before!?"

"Are you claiming diplomatic immunity ?" was the retort from the second officer.

"No sir!" I responded with a smirk. It was pretty funny, given the circumstances.

"Do you think that's f**k-ing funny?"

"Umm, no sir ?" I stammered.

Now, I don't think I've heard a bible-belt living Oklahoman drop their f's (swear) in the time that I had been living there (off and on for about a year). The situation had just turned for the worst.

"Well, Steven..." the first officer started as he glanced at the license again, still looking puzzled, "it's like this - you're going to be arrested for being 'drunk in public!'

"Drunk ?" I replied - knowing that I could probably be under the limit after a case of 3.2% beers in a few hours. "At what level would I have to blow to be 'drunk in public?'"

"Lev-el ?" - they responded in almost unison. D'oh - I had touched a nerve. All my teachers' points about "Steve likes to question authority" were coming coming back to haunt me (again). But this time the other side was going to get the final word (they had guns !).

"That's enough - hands behind your back!" - as the first officer whipped out the handcuffs.

The door to the waiting squad car opened and my head was given that 'gentle shove' to lead me to the seat. The cuffs cut into my wrists right away. Hmm, so this is what the back of a squad car looks like ? How long will they leave these cuffs on ? What the heck is going on ?

My friends were starting to exit the bar, they looked as confused as I did when they spotted me in the back of a squad car ?! Several of my friends are large guys, including my roommate, who I know hates to be described as "tall", but he's tall! The officers called for backup and two other cars arrived.

Eventually, my roommate came over to the car, careful not to touch it or get too close. He told me that he would pick me up in the morning.

"I'll pick you up at 11am - twelve hours from now..." he said. He voice was a bit muffled, but it got through. I rolled my head back and mouthed a few swears. The handcuffs where still there, but now I was starting to get hot/mad.

The officer came over. I was set to ask about what the heck was going on. But he lifted the door handle on the driver's side and nothing happened. He squinted into the cab at the keys in the ignition of the running car. He picked up his radio. Soon the other cars came back and opened the door for him. Great - keystone cops have got their man : "pasty white Canadian is drunk in public - deported back to Canada, film @ 11!"

He starts to drive. "So, I'm taking you to the Drunk Tank - they'll let you out in the morning." I could see his eyes in the rear view mirror. "Why were you in that place ?"

"I had a bad day - my coworkers just wanted me to relax."

"Well, people get killed in that place you know."

"I was okay with that group, we could take care of ourselves."

"What do you do?" - now he was actually being civil, almost curious.

"I'm a computer programmer from Canada - on a work visa, which is why I'm concerned now about getting a record for something that occurred when I did nothing wrong." He rolled his eyes that led me to believe that he was feeling a little remorseful about this situation. "I don't want a record that could me my deportation or being banned from working here!"

"So why were you causing trouble - laughing at us when we first go there ?"

"Laughing ? Oh ! I saw you guys and made a joke to my coworker beside me that you had coming for him as he has very long hair !"

"Y'all got long hair!"

La cucaracha

We pulled up to a building that had a steel door and bars on the windows. "I'm going in to talk to the caretaker and then I'll drop you off - you'll have to stay here for 12 hours before they can let you go."

I was stone cold sober by now. I only had two of those watery beers, but I was starting to think that I had better see a washroom 'soon.'

After a few minutes, he led me in to the foyer. One side there was a gate with heavy metal bars, the other was an open area with some cots - a couple ladies of the evening were lounging around. They stared up and down at me in my dress slacks, leather shoes and ralph lauren shirt.

"Empty your pockets and you'd better give me those shoes." The caretaker commanded as he put my shoes together and documented my wallets contents. "$100 bill ?"

"My boss gave that to us this week as a bonus/incentive."

The cop shook his head and left. I finished up with my signature and a nod that I would be let out in 12 hours. The caretaker opened the gate with a creak that drowned out his late night gospel station on the b&w TV behind his desk. I entered the drunk tank....

It was dark. There was just the flickering of an overhead fluorescent light over the toilet/urinal area. The toilet was soiled and the urinal was cracked. I wondered if somebody's head had broken it. You couldn't see who was on the cots on the sides, but I could hear some spanish barbs coming from that area - followed by kissing noises. I headed to the far corner where it appeared nobody had been, yet.

I plunked down on the pillowless cot, facing the wall. I didn't move until several minutes later when I heard somebody sit down on the cot behind me.

"La cucaracha!" he said as he cupped his hand over a VERY large cockroach (well, large to a Canadian boy), caught it, threw it to the ground and stopped on it.

I smiled and got up, wondering how many more were there in the corner - I headed to the cots by the light. It was closer to the entrance and I thought perhaps the caretaker could see that area from his desk. I could hear him warning the guys standing by the gate that they had to stand back so he could see... They were trying to talk to the 'girls' on the other side.

A little while later, the guy in the cot next to me started a conversation : "Um, did you start a fight with that police officer, you don't look like the typical drunk?"

"Nope, I was just hanging around the Red Dog!"

"Oh! Cops have been trying to shut that place down for a while now - they like to harass the customers." This guy was pretty coherent, guess he's been here for 11+ hours.

"Steve ! Steve, come here" came the command from the guys hanging around the gate. They were pretty drunk. "Those girls want to talk to you."

I shook my head no. Eventually they brought a piece of paper with "call me" scribbled on it with some almost legible phone numbers on it. I was never going to live this one down with my coworkers !

An Eventful Night

For several hours, people came and left. The cops dropped off one guy who yelled over and over again that he was just sleeping in his truck and he had to go to a $11/hour job the next morning "early." Several guys commented that you have to get arrested and they'll let you go for the night on $50 bail. Now that sounds like the plan, but I was sure that wouldn't go over well the next time I crossed the border ? Was that a felony or misdeamnor ? Argh. Too late now. Cops finally came and "arrested" the guy who had to go to work. I guess he didn't want to lose that job (there aren't a lot of jobs in OKC and I wouldn't want these guys to know that I made more that that guy's rate).

The night went on. My boss arrived and tried to talk the caretaker into letting me go. He finally let me know that he or his brother (other boss) would come to pick me up the next day...

Later, the guy who caught the cockroach faked a heart attack to get out. Paramedics took him away anyway. Eventually it was late enough (4am?) that the babbling fools in the corner fell asleep finally. ( I was getting tired of hearing from the guy that claimed he was in jail with Ike Turner). The caretaker came around with the mop and casually whispered to me that I should "come with him to the desk."

He handed me my shoes and responded to my puzzled look that "the officer said I should let you go anytime after everybody fell asleep." More questions about what I did to him came about. I was as puzzled as he was...

So, I took a cab back to the apartment, spoke briefly to my roommate, showered and passed out. My roommate assured me that he would tell our phb that I was not coming in for a while due to my adventure.

Of course, the phb phoned me at 9am due to an urgent matter that couldn't wait even though everybody told him their side of the story. But phb bashing is another blog.
- posted by Steve @ 9:30 PM 3 comments

 
Oklahoma City Bombing - 10 years later

Murrah Federal Building Bombing

At 9:02 a.m. on April 19, 1995, a bomb ripped through the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City, burying dozens of people in its rubble. That was ten years ago and was at that time the worst terrorist act ever committed in the United States. One hundred sixty-eight people lost their lives and it is estimated that several hundred thousand people in the close knit Oklahoma community knew someone who was killed or injured in the bombing.

The following is a timeline tracing my experience with this event and my coming to grips with the fact that I was supposed to be in the building that morning. I haven't talked about it this much before, as I never wanted to belittle the tragic outcome of the victims, their families or others who may have been injured and managed to get out of the building safely that day.

Social Security Bureaucracy

I had been working and living in Oklahoma City for several months by April of 1995. The project I was working on was just wrapping up and it was becoming apparent that my involvement was still required for months to come. So I convinced my wife that we needed to move to Oklahoma City from Calgary that spring. The Human Resources (HR) manager of my employer prompted me to get my Social Security Number (SSN) at the beginning of April or “I would not be getting paid in May!”

So I went to the Murrah Federal Building one afternoon in the second week of April. I filed out the forms I thought I needed to apply for a SSN under my Trade NAFTA (TN) Visa and proceeded to wait in line. After about an hour, I realized the agents weren't going to go through the several people in front of me much more quickly than the two or three they had completed since I queued up. I could see the coworker who agreed to chauffeur me fidgeting in her truck parked outside the building. So I decided to leave and come back another day...

Tuesday April 18^th, 1995

It was the usual day at work with non stop meetings and reviews with coworkers on the product that we were trying to deliver in May.

Towards the end of the day, I received a call from the HR manager in the Houston office : “Steve, I didn't receive your fax with your SSN for our payroll records!” I tried to explain the pressure with the deadlines we were under for May 1^st and the impossible wait at the Social Security office, but I finally gave in to her pleading to go queue up again. I promised I would be there tomorrow morning – early, after the Social Security office opened so I wouldn't have to wait for hours and the application for my SSN would get completed.

9:00am Wednesday, April 19^th, 1995

I was in the CFO's office of the company that I was outsourced to for my computer design/programming skills. The CFO was the major stakeholder or client that specified the billing system. He called me the previous evening and requested that we meet “first thing tomorrow morning with the other team leads." Of course, his urgency trumped my HR manager's request and I was sure we would get the SSN thing worked out soon enough.

Half awake, I leaned back in my chair - against the large window that overlooked the vast parking lot, expansive grass plains and far off in the distance, Oklahoma City's downtown buildings.

The window I was leaning against moved slightly with a *whump*! I quickly sat up in my chair and gave the window a scowl. We glanced at each other with a “wtf was that?” look and then quickly decided that it must have been the construction on the floor above us.

After the meeting ended, somebody poked their head in with the news - “something has exploded downtown!” We stared out the window and noticed a large black, almost mushroom cloud (more like a thundercloud) hanging over the downtown area. A few more rumours circulated and the CFO started up his tiny tv that he kept in his office to watch the news when he worked late.

Nobody had a TV crew downtown yet, but reports were coming in : "that a building has exploded and there is a lot of chaos with a lot of injuries – no confirmed deaths, yet."

We were a little shocked, but unsure of what has happened. Perhaps a gas leak ? A coworker made a joke about my failed trip to the Social Security office and that I might be the unabomber. I snapped at him that I didn't think that was funny and he shouldn't repeat that, even in jest. I realized later that he didn't know the scope of the explosion (none of us did at that time) and he was really just trying to lighten the mood.

We went back to work and I mentioned the news reports to a couple more people. I was told that a few coworkers rushed off as their spouses “work downtown in the federal building!”

Noon Wednesday, April 19^th, 1995

My roommate and I decided to stop by the apartment on the way to lunch. We had a large screen TV that the company (well, the CFO – it is who you know sometimes) provided for us to use on weekend stays away from home. The news was on every channel, and not just local. They were showing the view(s) from a helicopter - many shots of destruction and the news anchor claimed they have mixed reports, "but it appears to have been a large terrorist bomb that was detonated outside the building. The Murrah Federal Building has almost completely collapsed and they are searching hard for survivors trapped in the rubble."

The Murrah building was a very distinct building. It had a wall of glass on the front (north side) and a very large entrance with columns that went to the top of the building. I probably will never forget the chill that most people describe as 'spine chilling' as I realized that was the building I was in a week ago!

We watched for as long was we could – before we had to return to work. I tried to phone Calgary (home) a couple more times. "All the lines are busy" claimed the automated operator's voice...

3:00 p.m. Wednesday April 19^th, 1995

The HR manager from Houston “finally got through” to my work phone. She claimed that she was trying franticly to reach me at the office, my apartment, my boss's cell phone & pager – anybody that knew where I was! The last time we talked, I promised her that I would be in that building “first thing when they opened.” She told me that my boss claimed that : "Steve never gets up before 9am, there's no way he would have been there when it happened." That was almost funny, considering the circumstances (and that it came from a phb).

It didn't really sink into my brain at that point still that I was supposed to be there. I don't remember mentioning it to anybody (except my roommate).

5:00 p.m. Wednesday April 19^th, 1995

After many tries, I finally got through to Edmonton on the phone – my wife was visiting her family. I told her the news and asked if she saw it on the TV yet. She claimed she heard about it, but when somebody mentioned it (“Isn't your husband in downtown Oklahoma?”) - she said she knew that I was on the outskirts of the city, far out of harm's way. I explained that I should/could have been there at the time of the incident. I don't think she understood what I was trying to tell her.

The rumour in the office at this time was that our coworker's newlywed wife was missing...

Saturday April 22^nd, 1995

I was supposed to have flown back to Calgary this weekend. I can't remember now if the reason I didn't leave was because of the bombing, project deadlines or the schedule for us to move from Calgary to Oklahoma.

May 1^st, 1995

We were on the road in our u-haul with all our possessions (not that many at the time). It was a good adventure for us – but I do remember explaining to my wife that the city she was moving to felt like “the city of death.” I regret that remark now. It was more reflective of the close community that was feeling the pain of friends, coworkers and family that had lost somebody in the building.

May 23rd, 1995

Five weeks after the bombing – the building was demolished. I remember hearing that they never found our coworker's wife's body and a few others in the rubble. It was determined that the building was too unstable to leave standing any longer. It was not a healing day for the city.

News reports released names of the dead and details that nobody who was in the Social Security office survived (It was the closest agency/office to the blast).

My wife and I had escaped for a vacation to Florida – we didn't tell many people that we were there vacationing from Oklahoma. We didn't have accents/drawls (yet), so many figured we were on holiday from Canada.

8:55 a.m. Friday April 19^th, 1996

The first remembrance ceremony was being held at the site that had been scraped of all existence of the building destroyed one year earlier by Timothy McVeigh (the trial is just getting underway).

The announcer recounted many stories of heroism, including the good samaritan nurse Rebecca Anderson, who died after getting hit by debris in the aftermath. She was passing by with her husband and two kids - when she decided that she had to stop and help. This is just one of many tragic stories being told this week. I remember avoiding all news on the topic, as it was too painful...

As will become the tradition of future remembrance ceremonies at the site, 168 seconds of silence was followed by the reading of the names of those who were killed. By the time they reached the minute marking the event that changed everybody's life – I was already on the road to work. I figured that with this timing of my 15 minute commute, I won't have to endure the ceremony.

9:03 a.m. Friday April19th, 1996

There was literally nothing on the radio as I drove to work. All stations were broadcasting the live feed from the site and the ceremonies had just reached the 168 seconds of silence for each of those that were killed. I was on the interstate/freeway that was part of my usual commute and of course, the traffic was pretty light that morning. During the moments of silence you could hear the wind in the microphone and the odd cough or stifled sob from the attendees.

A baby's wail came over the radio. It instantly reminded me of the now famous picture of a firefighter holding what was obviously the first child victim taken out of the rubble. I remembered that 19 children at the daycare were killed, including the one in the picture. My wife and I were starting to talk that spring about having a family ...

I had to pull over.

Now, I don't remember if I have told anyone about what happened on my commute that morning, but it was a life changing event. I realized that Oklahoma would heal and what I saw wasn't going to be reported in the media – CNN, ABC, NBC, CBS or HNN! Even the most popular evangelist of the area was not going to be able to promote or even recount the emotion of the event that happened next.

Almost everybody on the interstate had pulled over also. People got out of their cars, head slumped slightly and proceeded to hug each other on the side of the interstate. For several minutes there was no moving traffic on a normally very busy highway.

Fall 1996

My wife's parents came to visit and we agreed to take them to the site. There wasn't much to see other than a large chain link fence covered with children's drawings of thoughts of remembrance around the perimeter of where the building used to be. The buildings across the road were still damaged and there was some rubble in the parking lot to the north.

We touched the elm tree that somehow survived. There was a weird hushed tone about the place that made me very uneasy and an indescribable 'rumbling' that I could feel internally that seemed to get louder/stronger the longer we stayed there. I attributed it to anxiety - as it was the first time I had stood here since the week before the bombing.

11:01 a.m. Tuesday June 10^th, 1997

Richmond, Virginia : My first daughter was born. This magical moment really had nothing to do with that eventful day in Oklahoma City – but it has everything to do with the fact that I wasn't in the Murrah building that morning. At 32, I was a 'dad' now ...

8:14 a.m. Monday June 11^th, 2001

Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh, who killed 168 people in the worst act of domestic terrorism to date in the U.S., was put to death by lethal injection. I remember hoping that the families of the victims had found some closure.

Resources

http://www.okcbombing.org/timeline.htm

http://www.oklahomacitynationalmemorial.org/

http://www.crimelibrary.com/serial9/mcveigh/index.htm

http://www.okcbombing.org/images/firefighter.jpg
In one of the most dramatic images of the day, firefighter Chris Fields carries Baylee Almon, who later died of her injuries. AP photographer Charles H. Porter IV won the Pulitzer Prize for this photograph. (AP photo)

http://www.okcbombing.org/images/murrah2.jpg
The north wall of the Alfred Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City was blown off by explosives packed into a rented truck. (AP photo)

- posted by Steve @ 9:02 AM 0 comments