9:02am, April 19th, 1995 an explosion goes off at the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. The red and orange blast, felt up to forty miles away, destroyed the building. 168 people were killed and approximately hundreds injured. I ran toward building, there is debris scattered everywhere. “Four blocks away and a little more blood on their shirts… three blocks away people sitting on the curbings… two blocks, one block away when people had towels on their heads laying down”, I tell my wife Claudia. There are families in tears as I look around. Half of the building was demolished and crumbled. The dust clouds in the air from the destruction are crowding around me. Brandon our 3-year-old and Rebecca our 2-year-old were in the building when the bomb went off. The entire floor the daycare was located on was blown to pieces. Tears gently dripping down my wife’s face as we stare at the building, with more of the building slowing coming apart as we watch. Our kids are all I’m worried about, I think in my head. Firefighters and police dig through debris attempting to find bodies. Bright yellow tape hang around the perimeter of the building, yet there are no signs of our two kids yet. …show more content…
The anxiety is killing me now. We go home hoping to get good news in the morning. The next day it was discovered that Timothy McVeigh was the bomber. He loaded a rental van with deadly explosives and parked near the side of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building, by the daycare. Then he detonated the explosives at exactly 9:02 a.m. The motive was anger toward the U.S government. It was also confirmed that 6 children survived the