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First Hour
Eight O’clock, Tuesday morning’s seventh
grade science did not start like
other Tuesday mornings of the Spring Semester in Mrs. E’s class. In fact no
morning had ever started the same way whether it was Tuesday or any other day
of the week. Langston University had delivered baby
goats to have in our classroom. The instructors from Langston had also brought
goat sausage and goat’s milk. We were making goat milk ice cream and goat milk
cheese. A few weeks before Langston’s instructors had set up an incubator with
eggs that were expected to hatch this week. The eggs were checked and some pecking
had gotten pretty serious. One chick was just getting his head through the
shell. The whole class was full of energy and excitement. The goat milk was
mixed with sugar, eggs and a little salt. The mixture was poured in the ice
cream freezer. The temperature of the milk was recorded and all other data from
the living organisms in the room. Talking to the class, Mrs. E. was facing
the East Wall of our second floor classroom which had eight windows that
stretched from the ceiling to nearly the floor. Suddenly the windows bowed
inward and a loud explosion was heard. Everything became deathly quiet. A large
cloud of smoke just a mile away could be seen from our second story windows. Mrs.
E. said quietly, “That can’t be good”. A few minutes later, the intercom
blurted and the Principal announced the bombing of the Murrah Federal Building
just a little less than one mile away. The Murrah Building was at 6th
and Walker; We were in the Classen School of Advanced Studies at 16th
and Classen Boulevard. The kids and teachers were scared, eight
hundred and fifty students and ninety-eight faculty members all wanted to use
the few telephones found in the building. Everyone knew someone’s parents or
family that worked downtown. The students cried, asked to go to the bath room,
wanted to go find their friends or siblings in other classrooms. What would
happen next? So many questions, yet, no answers. In the middle of all the
chaos, more baby chicks started hatching and the ice cream finished making. The
baby goats were allowed to wander in the classroom and were hugged by everyone.
Kids were distracted one minute by the baby chickens being hatched and were
crying the next minute. The principal said to let the kids go where ever they
asked as long as they were orderly. Our room was the refuge. Everyone had heard
about the hatching baby chicks. They came to see the 200 gallon aquarium filled
with fish. They came to see the three baby goats who loved all the attention.
Students sampled the goat milk ice cream which was associated with gasps and
chokes and finally, “That’s really good.” A day of chaos, a day of emerging
life, a day of unanswered questions. That’s how it was, 9:01 AM. Tuesday, April
19, 1995. |
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