Several days ago I posted the first in a series of three posts honoring my father in law
and his work as a first responder to the OKC Murrah Building Bombing in April, 1995.
I want to thank all of you for your kind responses, for sharing your own stories,
and for helping to observe this anniversary with the right spirit.
Following is part two. It is a bit more graphic and intense,
so please keep that in mind before you read.
I know for many Oklahomans this is still a fresh wound.
Much love to everyone.
THE MORGUE TEAM
The morgue team was led by Dr. Jordan, a prominent and beloved member of the medical community. He insisted on a show of the utmost respect for every victim of the bombing, and in turn he won the respect of his team every step of the way.
Of the sixty people assembled plus another twenty military personnel manning the phones, Harvey and Judy were already friends with half a dozen. Many of the rest would become permanent connections for them, indelible marks on their life stories.
The morgue team’s initial task was to frame lists of people known to be in the Murrah building that morning, as well as lists of people who might have been there. Since the building hosted agencies like the Social Security Administration, the possibilities of different visitors were endless.
Then the bodies started arriving. The team’s primary job quickly became positive identification of every victim. Dr. Jordan had set high standards, and every team member was vigilant. They identified people through detailed physical descriptions, fingerprints, dental records, and, when necessary, DNA.
No one had ever before seen a disaster of this magnitude, and the pressure was immense. Eventually they saw a total of 168 dead. It is estimated that 20% of Oklahoma City was grieving the loss of at least one person. One in five people attended funeral services for loved ones killed in the bombing. Many people attended multiple services, and sometimes there were so many funerals overlapping that mourners had to make the impossible choice of which one to attend.
Harvey and Judy knew eight of the deceased personally, but they continued their gruesome and heartbreaking work. In the course of his duties, Harvey himself identified two of those eight lost loved ones.
None of the work was easy, but everyone on the morgue team agreed that handling the lost babies was hardest. Dozens of infants and toddlers were seriously injured by the blast, and 19 were killed. The morgue team had the unfathomable burden of identifying each of these smallest Oklahomans.
By about the seventh day, police officers began visiting homes of missing children to collect hair samples from tiny hairbrushes and fingerprints from sippy cups. Of course, the parents were unbelievably grieved.
Mourning families waited daily for news, but they were kept far away from the morgue and well out of view of the refrigerator trucks where the bodies were kept safe prior to identification. For years after that, Judy would grieve freshly every time she glimpsed such a refrigerator truck out in public.
For the adults who would have had dental records available for comparison, Dr. Glass from the OU School of Dentistry orchestrated a team of first-year students to help with the work. Judy drove that same Hallpark patrol car all over the metro area collecting records and bringing them back to the team. Again, unprepared for such a task, a large percentage of these students ultimately chose not to pursue dentistry as a profession. They were not alone in their trauma: The regional American Red Cross lost 80% of its volunteer base following the shock of this tragedy.
But that was all much later. While there was work still to be done, everyone stayed. In fact, during those awful weeks, Oklahoma received more volunteers ready to work than there was work to be done.
Harvey would later recall one Oklahoma City dentist desperate to find ways he could help the recovery efforts. He ended up donating more than enough toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, and other oral hygiene supplies so the morgue workers could have some semblance of self care while they spent all their energy caring for others.
This particular contribution would eventually lead to the only moment of levity Harvey and Judy would experience during these weeks. One bright afternoon, Judy was driving up to the site, nearing 8th and Lincoln, swishing her mouth with pure, undiluted Listerine donated by this dentist. It was so sharp and powerful that it choked her, and she swerved the patrol car severely, pulling off and stopping at the side of the road. Military personnel guarding the area recognized her and thought she was in distress, possibly shot. Instantly two humvees filled with armed guards sped over the curb and flanked the Hallpark patrol car. By now Judy had opened her driver side door and was coughing out the strong mouthwash, laughing hard. They all three surrendered to brief and bittersweet laughter.
SECURITY AND RESPECT
As head of Security, Harvey made several decisions. One of his first was to block all roads leading into the morgue area, which they accomplished with the help of military presence. Harvey also acquired X-ray machines to ensure that the many incoming packages were safe. Bomb scares were still on the forefront of everyone’s minds. Additionally, to control foot traffic in and out of the makeshift morgue, he implemented neck chains with photo ID badges and a strict sign-in/sign-out policy. Only approved team members were allowed past a certain point, and everyone answered to Dr. Jordan. Even other uniformed police officers and well meaning volunteers were turned away in order to preserve the security and integrity of the team’s sensitive work. Again, Oklahoma had more than enough generous volunteers. Love had saturated every single effort.
Sensationalism and fanfare were foreign concepts here. The gravity of the situation was felt constantly by all team members. The morgue was a fiercely protected “No Camera Zone,” and on at least two separate occasions people trying to infiltrate the area to snap tabloid photos lost either their equipment or their jobs or both. Respect for those lost was paramount and violations were not tolerated. Fortunately, the vast majority of people agreed and cooperated with this sentiment. Whether native Oklahomans or volunteers from around the world, first responders were people finding needs to fill and putting Love into action.
It was so much more than work for Harvey and Judy and their colleagues. With every positive identification, following the rigorous standards set forth by Dr. Jordan, the place quieted. Every time a victim was released to a funeral home, he or she left the morgue with perfect solemnity and affection. Reverence was shown at every turn, and the team members all stopped their work to stand and say goodbye. For fallen military or law enforcement personnel, strong, tender salutes were given. But everyone was important. Everyone was a fallen American.
Several days into the grueling assignment, as victims started leaving the morgue for their final resting places, it was widely known that what our beautiful city had suffered was an act of terrorism.
Thank you for reading, friends. More of the story will come probably next week.
Please feel free to continue adding your own memories
or any words from your heart. And thank you so much for sharing this, Harvey.
xoxoxoxo
