THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 23, 1995 TAG: 9504230035
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
SOURCE: PAUL SOUTH
LENGTH: Medium: 58 lines
Just a few steps from the front door to the East Carolina Bank in Nags Head where Jenny Williams works, the stars and stripes pop at half-staff in the stiff southwest wind.
Except for passing cars, there is silence.
``There were a lot of reasons we did this,'' Williams says of the bank's decision to lower the colors. ``Compassion . . . It was like some sort of kindred feeling between us and the people in Oklahoma City. I don't know how to put it into words. It's very emotional. What other way can we show that we hurt for them?''
Williams, mother of two young girls, admits she has shed tears since the senseless bombing that ripped through the Federal Building in the heart of America. Judging from the lowered flags along U.S. 158 on into Currituck County, Williams is not alone.
``Most of the stuff (you see on the news) you can remove yourself from,'' she says. ``But when something of this magnitude happens, you can't let it pass by. When there are children involved, I think it touches all of us. We grieve for the adults too, but the children . . . They (the terrorists) had to know that day-care center was there.''
Williams thought of her own children the day of the blast that shook Oklahoma City buildings for miles, and rocked America to its soul.
``My oldest daughter (Leigh, age 8) is at her aunt and uncle's this week,'' Williams says. ``I was going to call her anyway. But after what happened, I had to call her. I had to hear her voice.''
Williams has not been alone in feeling the hurt wrought by the Oklahoma bombing.
``It's been a pretty heavy topic of conversation here,'' she says. ``Everybody's just in shock.''
Like so many, Jenny Williams wonders how such a thing could happen in Oklahoma City. Those things are supposed to happen in Beirut, or Belfast, but never here. Not in America.
``My Mom and I were talking, about how the Bible says that in the end horrific things will happen, but people will continue to function as if nothing has happened,'' she says.
``After this, I don't know how we can stay in our little cocoon on the Outer Banks and not be touched by it.''
Jenny Williams is right. Everyone, in some way, has been shaken into a reality that we never thought we'd face. The world is smaller after Oklahoma City, not because of new technology, but ancient evil in its most despicable form.
And while Jenny Williams can't speak for others, her life has been unalterably changed by events halfway across the continent.
``I've never had anything affect me so emotionally. My husband and I were talking. It really puts into perspective how precious life is, and how quickly it can be taken away. And you realize that but for the grace of God, it's not Oklahoma City, it's us.'' by CNB