There are some things in life that you think you'll only ever see on TV, on the news. Like, war, planes being crashed into buildings, tsunamis, starvation...a bomb going off in the middle of a city. 'These things will never happen where I live...' And, for those fortunate enough, you can go your whole life believing just this. That tragedy is just a thing of make-believe, or, at least something that happens to other people, and not me. For some, you might go so long without experiencing any true tragedy or adversity, that you take for granted the blessed pulse of life that runs through your body and all that which encompasses your life. Does this make you a bad person? Maybe if you just take every thing for granted for no particular good reason. But, essentially, no. Though, it definitely doesn't prepare you for when that unexpected tragic moment strikes.
Well, there was a moment 14 years ago today that changed my view of the world in an instant, and, forever. What is real, and what is fiction. There no longer exists that lingering ghost of naivety riddling my brain in these regards. Anything is possible. Tragedy can strike - Anytime. Anywhere. And, it did.
I haven't told the story from my perspective very often. For those that were there, I'm not sure if all have heard my side. But, either way, here's my story:
24 May 1998. I was 17, weekend before finals my senior year. I was at church on Sunday morning. It seemed like a typical Sunday church morning. We had just finished singing praise and worship, and we had gone about our "fellowship" time, a short period of walking around and greeting people, etc. During fellowship time, I do recall a friend's father talking of something of concern. He had gone out to his car, and on his way back in the building, he was confronted by a slow moving vehicle with two people in it, younger, maybe 20-something looking males, I believe. It was coming down the alley that went along side the church. And, as it was passing him, the passengers of the vehicle gave her father something of a snide, malevolent grin, as if they'd been up to something nefarious. [This was more ominous than actually related to the incident...maybe. No one really knows]. Her father was concerned enough to mention it to a couple of people, but soon passed. Also, during fellowship, I approached the youth pastor to ask him about our lunch after the service. It was somewhat customary for this youth pastor to take graduates to a lunch of their choice close to graduation time; this was my day for said lunch. I asked him ever so innocuously, "we still going to lunch?" By his facial expression, he, for some reason, seemed to be quite thrown off by my asking, replying, "yeah...why wouldn't we?" I don't know why, but this troubled me for a few minutes. I actually asked myself, "huh. why wouldn't we?" I got over it.
After fellowship, we sit, pray for the offering, take up the offering. But, as we sat, bowed our heads for prayer, that prayer was interrupted; there was an explosion. Turns out that some disgruntled man with a beef with the pastor of the church assembled a pipe bomb of sorts made of a very large fire extinguisher canister packed with gun powder and nails and screws, and placed it between an AC unit and the wall of the sanctuary. Now what kind of crazy degenerate makes such a device and plants it outside a church on a Sunday morning!? More about him to come...
The explosion, it was...surreal. Confusing. One second, I close my eyes. When I can finally open them, disaster, hysteria. I should mention that, at the time, the youth group there was a fairly tight-knit group of friends. We all sat together in several rows nearest the outside wall of the sanctuary, the wall that the alley ran along. I was in the third seat closest the wall, only two of my best friends between me and the explosion. Directly, on the other side of me was my girlfriend. Of all the afflicted, most were young people. The blast itself was nothing like I could/would have imagined it. I didn't hear a thing. Just a blast of hot air over my body and a near deafening ringing in my ears. I remember thinking to myself, before I "came to," that one of the auditorium speakers must have blown. Silly, right? On the other hand, my dad, who was not at church, but at home 6-7 miles across town, recalled to me that he clearly heard the explosion from our house, and being ex-army artillery, he knew exactly what the sound was.
Now, I don't think I was knocked unconscious. But, many others were. Upon opening my eyes all I could see was darkness and smoke. The air reeked of gun powder and was infused with drywall dust. The chairs in which we were all sitting that lined the rows near the wall were now a dozen feet or so forward of their original position, all in a pile of mangled metal and fabric. I lay on the floor. Dazed. Panic hadn't set in...yet. Just as I was about to lose it, I look to my left and see my buddy. He's on his knees, rocking back and forth as he hold his girlfriend's hand who lay on the ground next to him [I assume] unconscious, and he's saying, calmly, "it's going to be alright, everything is going to be alright..." And, I guess I believed him. I remained calm. Whether from shock, or, whatever, he says he doesn't remember that. But, it may have been the only thing that made me keep my cool. Immediately after, upon gathering about my wits, my first thought - my girlfriend. She was just sitting next to me. And, now, I don't know where. I scoured the sanctuary. I see her. She's several feet in front of me laying on the ground seemingly lifeless. I scurry over to her, crawling quickly on my hands and knees. I sit, grab her, and take her up into my arms. And, as she roll over into me, I notice the blood, a waterfall of blood pouring from the back of her head. I immediately attempt to apply pressure to the wounds, but it didn't seem to help. You want to talk about fear? At that moment, I never felt so helpless, as the girl that I loved [at least, thought I loved, at the time, well, cared about deeply, nonetheless...] I believed was dying, if not already dead, in my arms. I can't recall how long I held her. I know now that it's true, that in these moments, time can stand still and an eternity can pass in the blink of an eye all at once. It's as if all concept of time is lost. I have no idea how long she lay in my arms. But, suddenly, before I could utter a syllable, her dad comes and swoops her up from my arms. In an instant, she's gone...possibly forever. At this point, I'm still conscious and aware of my surroundings, but suffering from a hint of shock, obviously, and sadness. I stand up, somewhat frantically begin looking for my girlfriend. I'm turning about looking in every direction I can see in, but, she's gone. I was scared for her. In my searching about the sanctuary, I see one of my best friends, laying on his back, not moving, blood pouring from the side of his head with a couple people tending to him. I think he's dead. One of the gentlemen assisting him hands me a white cloth pocket square. I continue on. I look up and see another buddy. He's up and walking around, but clearly in a total daze. I see him approach the side emergency door of the sanctuary, he's ok. But, he doesn't remember walking around, at least not at the time. Eventually, I make my way to the back, out the main doors. A couple women see me in passing, look at my face, and cry and cringe, not from disgust, but of fear. I pass by a mirror. So, I stop and look. The entire left side of my face is, what I can only assume now, flash burned and cut, and my left eye has, well, imploded. I couldn't even see the center of my eye. All the blood vessels in my eye had burst from the concussion of the explosion, the white of my eye folding over the cornea. I wasn't able to see from my eye and didn't realize it until I saw myself in the mirror.
At this point, I'm still not sure I realize exactly what is going on. I exited the building to the parking lot where all the other parishioners had gathered. An ambulance had shown up, not sure who was taken first. I finally run into my grandmother. It was quickly off to the hospital from there. If things weren't bad enough, I get a nurse that doesn't even know how to put an IV in correctly. Sticks me four times before he gets it right, the third time nicked the vein in my forearm and my forearm swelled up almost twice it's size before he decides that he's made a mistake and I'm not just some big wuss complaining because my arm is about to explode. From there I was transferred to a hospital about 30 miles away by ambulance; there was not an eye specialist at the local hospital. I'm taken to a general care area of the emergency room. My family meets me there. My father comes. He's scared, but remaining strong for my sake. He steps away for a moment to talk to the doctor, and only now, in this time alone in a curtained off section of the hospital do I almost completely lose it, and panic. I didn't want to be left alone. i couldn't see anyone, hear anyone. But, my dad came back...just in time. He brings my clothes in a paper bag. I open it to look at them - the wretched stench of gun powder permeated the air and the clothes were blood soaked from collar of shirt to cuff of pant. And, not with my blood. Her blood. But, while at the hospital I learn my girlfriend is alive, but very critical. Another good friend, she suffered from severe head injuries as well, alive, but critical. A third female friend, the one that sat closest the wall, she inflicted a wound the size of a softball, blasted through the back of her chair into her back, all the way to her lung. Again, critical.
I sit here, typing this to you, with two fully functional eyes. Well, I mean, I wear correctional lenses, but not because of this. And, all of my friends, and all the fellow churchgoers, they are alive and well. Even the extremely elderly man who stood closest the wall awaiting his time to pass the offering basket down the aisle after prayer. He was quoted as complaining about getting his shoes dirty, something like that. He was a nice old man. And, some of us are married now, and have children. Anyway, no one died. Amazing. Well, I should correct myself when I said 'no one' died. A few days later, remember the crazy degenerate? The man that supposedly assembled the bomb and placed it outside our church? Well, he blew up himself, and his dog, in his garage while [again] supposedly assembling another explosive device. Oh well. Good riddance. Just too bad the dog got it, too.
I have read several of my friends' posts on Facebook today. I wish I could join some of them in praising God, etc. But, I label myself something of an Agnostic these days. Actually, I don't know what you'd call it. I just think that "God" may have been here at some point, maybe, and maybe had a hand in why we're here, etc. Or, maybe not at all. But, if so, I don't think he/she/it/marklar is here now. Not watching, not listening, answering prayers. Or, if "God" is still here, it's not what we think it is. The only thing I know exists is the spirit of life that is shared amongst all things living and the strength of our own individual and cumulative will to change the world around us, tangibly and intangibly, the physical and metaphysical. Look down on me, persecute my beliefs (or, lack there of...), that's fine. My mind is open and free, and there it will stay. And, you know, to be honest, I find myself, in this particular situation, more thankful for ignorance - the fact that whoever placed the bomb didn't know more about bomb placement...and physics, and I think the ATF guys will back me up on that one. Not saying that people couldn't have died or been more seriously injured that day, but, this made a big difference that day. And, who knows, maybe that was the hand of God at work...maybe.
Anyway. That is my story, my tragedy. And, I'm forever thankful for my life, for the lives of every person there that day, and any other that may have been affected by these turn of events. This, with the loss of a dear loved one, and now the gift of life - a baby girl - all these (and more...) together remind me that I will not take even a single breath, not a moment of life for granted, but, do my best to flourish, better myself, help others - to live, happily...hopefully for at least another 14 years.
Good night.
