I remember

Eleven years ago today, I was in the sixth grade. Since we were nearing the end of the school year, it was time to do all of those piddly, fun things we always looked forward to every year. On April 19, 1995, it was the talent show.

And so the day began. We all arrived at school excited for the day, eager to see the acts everyone had prepared or excited to perform ourselves. I was sitting next to my two best friends then, Stephanie and Melissa. My teacher, Mrs. Mayes', son was performing at the time. Melissa nudged me and said, "Mrs. Mayes is crying." I looked over, and sure enough, she was wiping her eyes.

Then, we noticed several of the other teachers were crying. To a sixth grader, this is a very puzzling thing. A few minutes later, the music teacher gave an announcement, and we all went back to our classrooms. It was just after 9 a.m.

All of the rooms had a 19" TV in them. Mrs. Mayes immediately turned it on. There, on the screen, were images of a building that had been hit by a bomb. The building was the federal building. The one in Oklahoma City.

Things like that didn't happen in Oklahoma.

That day, the halls seemed quiter, even though everyone was talking about what was going on. I had an aunt, uncle and cousins who lived about 30 minutes from OKC, and their house shook when the bomb went off. Everyone that I knew of knew someone who either worked at the building or near it or who was affected by the bombing. And my hometown was still an hour and a half away from downtown OKC.

The first thing everyone thought was that it was a terrorist attack. "Muslim-looking" and "Islamic-looking" people were targeted in airports, many detained and questioned.

The bombing was all the adults were talking about, and it was all that was on TV -- all the local news channels, the national channels. More and more bodies were being found, and police and bomb squads were worried about more bombs that might be in the area. Pictures and footage were inescapable. For days.

President Clinton visited. Oprah even came to OKC. Things like that didn't happen in Oklahoma.

I was in honor choir, and we organized a fundraiser for the bombing. One of my good friends started making and selling ribbons that said "OKC," and sending all the money to the city. My mom organized a benefit concert. The honor choir performed in it, and kids from talent shows in all grades of our schools performed. Our theme song for the event became Alabama's "Angels Among Us."

I was supposed to go on a field trip to the capital and some other buildings. I'm not sure if one of them was the federal building or not, but the trip was cancelled.

My grandparents, who lived in the same town as us, wanted to take my brother and me to OKC to see the building before it was imploded. We didn't make it up there. My parents probably thought it was too dangerous.

I remember watching on live TV when the building was imploded. Now, there's a memorial there. My grandparents took us to OKC before the memorial was built. There was one tree, the Survivor Tree, that survived the bombing. Behind it, on a brick wall, someone had spray painted a quote that I took a picture of. I wish I could remember what it said ...

A day or two after the bombing, I wrote a poem about what happened. My teacher found out about it from my friend, I think, and gave the class an assignment to do the same (which of course made me everyone's favorite person for the day). My teacher asked for me to make her a copy and sign it. I made her promise not to share it with anyone. The very next day when I walked into school, there it was on the bulletin board as soon as you entered the doors.

A year later, when I was a big 7th grader at the junior high, I got a call from my 6th grade principal asking me to read it for the governor for the one-year anniversary.

It all seems so long ago, but I can't imagine an April 19th ever going by that I didn't think of it. For me, it's like 9-11 -- a big, terrible act that some thoughtless person committed, killing hundreds of people, hurting thousands more and changing lives forever.

After all, things like that didn't happen in Oklahoma.