Darla Slipke The Oklahoman
The walls in the front room of Susan Ferrell’s home are painted lavender, the same as they were when she fell in love with the house more than 20 years ago.
Decorative pottery from New Mexico, some filled with sand from her travels, and braided sweetgrass, which is revered as a sacred plant by some American Indian tribes, adorn the fireplace mantel.
Sitting near a book of Japanese fairytales in the study is a collection of prose by Alice Walker with a bookmark tucked between the pages, like Ferrell would come home tomorrow and keep reading.
Some details around the house have changed over the years – Ferrell’s tan Honda Accord decked with bumper stickers is gone from the garage and her family has given away many of her books and belongings. Still, other aspects of the home remain the way they were when Ferrell walked out the door for work on April 19, 1995.
For families like her parents, Don and Sally Ferrell of Chandler, the pain lingers 20 years after a bomb exploded in front of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building, resulting in the death of Susan Ferrell and 167 other people. A city and state that were devastated by the horrific event have worked to grieve and heal, but the bombing has left a permanent mark. The legacy of those who died will never be forgotten. Twenty years later, there are survivors and people who lost loved ones, co-workers and friends who remain in an emotional struggle that doesn’t answer to time. Read More