Ten years...

It's not that I'm ignoring it. It's just that I have nothing useful to say.

I was in ninth grade. I was a clueless ninth grader. I had a vague understanding of the event, but nothing concrete or lasting. Even on American soil, it was too far away for me to pay it much attention. I'm sure if it were in a major city nearby (or my own), I would have cared more. I'm sorry I didn't. I was a kid. I knew nothing of the world.

168 innocent victims. 1 insane murderer. And five hundred miles away, I was in Geography class (if I remember correctly), learning about...Europe, maybe. Or it was English class, and we were trudging through Robinson Crusoe. The events of the castaway on that imaginary island were almost as real to me as the bombing of the Murrow building. That is to say, the bombing was almost as unreal to me.

I have nothing to add. I wish I had cared more then. I'm sorry I didn't. I do now.

I have to confess, even in my years in Oklahoma, I still haven't visited the memorial. I've never seen the site of the attack. When I'm up there in the next few weeks, I'll try to fix that.

In the meantime, grace and peace to the survivors--those directly affected by the deeds of the wicked, and those who grieve for victims they don't know.

If you have any personal thoughts or memories, even if they're like mine, feel free to share them below.

Travis has one. So does the Rev. Dr. E. Scott Jones. So does Educat. So does Michele.