This is National Crime Victims’ Rights Week, as well as the 15th anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing.
This week, I honor my wife, who was in a building two blocks away from the Murrah building when the truck exploded.
The shock wave blew in the windows and threw her to the floor. She was several months pregnant with Logan at the time.
Some people say she’s not a victim because she wasn’t actually in the Murrah building.
Tell that to her fibromyalgia and PTSD. Tell that to the shards of plate glass embedded in the wall behind her chair.
I was in the grocery store today — the same one as before. I was wearing my Pink Floyd shirt with a prism on the front. The title of the album associated with that prism was printed across the top. The courtesy clerk took special notice of it.
“What does your shirt say? ‘Dark Side of the … Movie?’”
I faltered, but regained my composure quickly.
“‘Dark Side of the Moon.’ It’s one of the best selling albums of all time. Came out in 1973,” I said.
“Album. Huh,” he said.
Being the non-violent type, I just walked away.
There’s a long-running writing contest called Writers of the Future. I’ve told myself that I would enter for 25 years, and last fall, thanks to incessant prodding encouragement from my friend Charles Anderson, I finally did.
Last week, my wife called and said I had received a manila envelope in the mail. It contained a WotF Honorable Mention certificate, along with a brief complimentary note from the contest coordinator. I’ve been told that because there are so many entrants, getting an Honorable Mention is quite an accomplishment.
I’m in good company, though. My friend Charles Anderson? He got one, too.