Today is June 11, 2001.  
It has been deemed "A Day of Reckoning" by the media.  
It has been named that because the man responsible for the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah building in Oklahoma City, Timothy McVeigh, was put to death by lethal injection this morning in Illinois.  He was pronounced dead at 8:15 a.m. est.  6 years, 52 days, 23 hours and 13 minutes after he executed 168 innocent men, women and children in Oklahoma City.  Has it really been 6 years since that fateful day?
  Every channel on the TV has had something dealing with the execution of this coward.  I can understand why.  It was the largest terrorist attack on U.S. soil in history.  Not only were grown men and women killed in the bombing, but also children.  19 of them to be exact.  Their ages starting at only 3 months old.  Along with the 168 dead, there were hundreds maybe thousands of lives shattered, scarred, destroyed or touched in one way or another.  Everyone involved, either directly or indirectly,  lost co-workers, friends, mothers, dads, sons, daughters, husbands and wives.
  They say you always remember where you were when a tragic or monumental event happens.   Like, where you were when the shuttle blew up or when you heard about John F. Kennedy being shot (for you older folks).  I remember exactly where I was when I heard about the bombing.  I had just come back from the states from doing almost 6 months in Haiti during Operation Uphold Democracy.  I got to Haiti on Sept 18, 1994 and stepped back in the States for the first time on March 17, 1995.  During that time, we met many other people that were deployed down there with other units and branches of service.  One of the people I met while down there was SSgt. Don Weir of the Air National Guard out of Dobbins AFB in Atlanta. Don worked the SATCOM van.  He was a big race fan also, and we got to be pretty good friends during his 3 month stint in Port-Au-Prince.  After I rotated back to the States, I took some leave to come back home to Georgia.  I needed to get away for a little while and I had also promised to visit a Kindergarten class and a First grade class from my home town when I was home visiting.  Both classes had "adopted" me while I was deployed to Haiti.  I was the only Warner Robins, GA native to be on the deployment, so they made care packages for me and my co-workers.  They made Christmas cards for us and made cassette tapes of them singing songs and sent them during my time down there.  I had made some video tape for them and sent them back and promised them I would come visit when I came home.  When I arrived in Warner Robins, Don called and told me he wanted me to come up and visit to meet his wife and kids.  On April 19, 1995, I went up to Don's house.  We heard about the bombing on the news while sitting in his front room.  We knew it was bad, but all details were still sketchy at the time.  I got up the next morning and headed back home to Warner Robins.  I got back to my parents' house before my mom was up and was locked out of the house.  I just kind of hung out for awhile until I heard my mom up and then rang the doorbell.  She opened the door and had a very strange look on her face.  She said, "Have you heard about Oklahoma City?"  I told her yes, that I saw it on the news.  She said, "Aniko (a very good friend of mine) called last night.  Do you know a girl named Courtney or something like that?"  I stopped and looked at her.   "You mean Cartney?  Cartney Koch?"  Her eyes got watery, she nodded her head once to acknowledge that was the name and then shook her head very slightly telling me the news.  My heart just sunk.  
  I had known who Cartney was since the day she was assigned to the 3rd Herd.  She was a very pretty girl, which made her stand out already, but the fact of how sweet and courteous and hard working she was, made her one in a million.  Everyone knew who Cartney was.  She was deployed down in Haiti with us during my last three months there.  I got to know Cartney pretty well during those three months and the two of us spent many an evening sitting on the homemade porch swing with other folks, just swinging and drinking coffee.  Some nights, we wouldn't even talk. Just sit and swing.  But, if you ever got into a conversation with Cartney, you always knew she was listening to you.  (Another lost art in today's society)  I had many meaningful conversations about nothing with Cartney.  She was just a joy to be around.  Always happy and upbeat.  A breath of fresh air anytime, but especially down there in those conditions.  Cartney had come home from Haiti and gotten married the Saturday prior to the 19th.  She was at the Federal Building changing her name on her social security card when the bomb went off.
  Now, as I stood in my mom's garage, she was listed as missing.  I wouldn't believe it.  I ran in the house and called our 24 Contact number at the Herd.  I told them who I was and asked if Cartney Jean McRaven (her married name) was listed as missing due to the bombing.  They verified who I was and told me, "Yes, she is listed missing at this time."
Just sitting here thinking of that phone call brings tears to my eyes.
  After I had gathered myself up, I explained to my Parents who Cartney was and some of the things that made her so special.  My mom wanted to do something that might try and help me deal with everything.  There is a dogwood tree in my parent's backyard that we planted that day in honor of Cartney.  The day we planted it, the tears fell from my eyes and I get a lump every time I look at it now.  As there is right now trying to write this.
  They found Cartney's body 12 days after the bombing.  She was located in what they called, the pit.  Read any book on the bombing and they explain what the pit was.  We had a memorial service for her on base and her funeral was held back in her home state of South Dakota.  I never knew her husband, so I don't know what became of him.  All I do know is I was blessed with the privilege of knowing Cartney and was able to call her a friend. She was taken away much too early from this life.
  Here we are 6 years and 2 plus months after the fact.  The animal that murdered 167 innocent people, and Cartney, was put to death this morning.  How do I feel?  I fully expected to wake this morning, read about the execution and jump for joy.  I didn't.  I expected to to feel avenged.  I didn't.  I expected to feel relieved.  I didn't.  All I felt was pity.  Pity for the families, the friends, and anyone even remotely involved.  Although I'm glad Timothy McVeigh is dead and gone (and hopefully paying dearly for his mortal sins for the rest of eternity) I felt no relief, joy nor any type of closure from his death.  All I can do is hope and pray that the victims' families and survivors of the bombing got some sort of closure from it.  They need it a lot more than I do, that's for sure.
  The one good thing that came from his death today:  He can no longer be a threat to anyone, ever again.  Some say they should have kept him alive to find out more names of those involved.  I say, if he was going to talk, he would have already.  It's been too long and I'm just glad it's finally over.  Although I felt no relief by his death, I would have felt strongly discouraged and frustrated if they would have upheld another stay of execution.  I'll take feeling the way I do right now over the other in this case, any day.
  Although Timothy McVeigh is dead today, there are 168 other people that died for no reason because of him.  1 life for 168 doesn't seem very fair to me.  Maybe that's why I don't feel relieved by all this.  I don't know.  That's why I write these things.  So maybe I can figure them out while I writing.  It hasn't happened in this case. 
I doubt I'll ever figure it out. 
I doubt I'll ever see the reasoning.
I know I'll never forget.

We'll always miss you Cartney.

**D**