Like most Oklahomans (maybe most Americans), I’ll never forget was I was doing on April 19th, 1995. I was 12 years old and sitting in Mrs. Chapman’s 7th grade algebra class. In all likelihood I was praying that she would assign homework from the even-numbered questions so that I could copy the answers from the back of the book. Mrs. Chapman was pregnant, probably around seven months along, and her husband was in Oklahoma City on business. (I grew up in Tulsa, about 90 miles away.)

Nobody could believe that a terrorist act happened in Oklahoma of all places. And for a short while, I remember thinking that even if a bomb had gone off, surely no one died, because things this bad just don’t happen here.

But 168 people did die, and as a class project we each wrote a “memorial letter” to one of the deceased. We got to choose our person, and I will never forget mine. Her name was Peachlyn Bradley, and she was at the Social Security office in the Murrah building with her grandmother and her baby brother, Gabreon, who was only three months old. All three died. Peachlyn’s mother and aunt were both in the building at the time, but lived. I have no idea what my letter said but it probably went a lot like this:

Dear Peachlyn,

It is so sad what happened to you especially because you were only three years old. And to your baby brother and grandmother. I have a little brother and a grandmother and I would be very sad if they died, but I am twelve instead of three. You were very pretty and our whole class prays for you and everyone else who died in Oklahoma City. I have been to Oklahoma City a lot of times but never saw anything bad happen.

Sincerely,

Crystal

I’d put money on that, actually. Raggedy but from the heart.

April 19th, 1995. 9:02 AM. I can’t say anything that hasn’t been said countless times before, but we remember and cherish you, and we will never forget.