I helped clean up the Regency Tower Apartments for employment after April 19, 1995 at 9:02 A.M. Funny how it never occurred to me as a foolish young man, that I could have been one of the victims at the time. I lived close enough to hear and feel my garage apartment shake. Denial is a powerful human defense mechanism, indeed.
The apartments had shattered glass and debris that covered the floors, beds, dressers, and kitchen cabinets. I never quite knew if I was in a survivor's apartment or not. I assumed that I was not, overall.
(this is a repost)
I vividly recall seeing the dead victim's or living victim's pictures that were mostly cracked or shattered on floors or dressers, left behind to be retrieved by the state or the victim’s relatives. One picture still haunts me ever since having looked into the man's eyes that were in it.
A distinguished looking gentleman in a picture frame seemed to be looking at me on the dresser, completely intact. The frame was not cracked in the least, though broken glass was all around. The man wore glasses and had short hair, maybe he was in his late thirties. His eyes still seem to peer across fifteen years and stare into my eyes, and I have never forgotten the moment I first saw his unshattered photo amongst all the destruction.
His picture is one that all individuals who have incited violence need to see. It's just that - I desperately wish it had never happened to begin with.