A love letter to our first responders

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I brought my wife and child to this killing field while the perimeter fence was still many blocks away from the blast site and while our first responders were still recovering the bodies and parts of bodies that had not long before been men and women, sons and daughters. Parents and grandparents.


It would not be too long until we moved to Oklahoma City and my duties as a lawyer for the accused frequently brought me to the federal courthouse that’s at the top of the feature image. And, depending on where I parked, I might cross hallowed ground to get there. But there were other times that I came here – and I will go again – when the daylight was not yet standing watch. Times when I asked God why He wasn’t in Oklahoma City that April day.

Over the weekend, I wrote a love letter to those whose job it is to pick up the pieces.


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*** A note re images used in this blogpost: I’m the one who visited St. Paul’s Chapel in the fall of 2014 and took this photograph of a message Oklahomans had sent to first responders who’d been tasked with picking up the pieces where the Twin Towers used to be. Other images in this blogpost are open-source or appear here on a non-commercial, fair use status.