Memories of Bustling Lives Haunt Bereaved Oklahomans

It happened in an instant, a mere tick on the cosmic clockwork that tracks the progress of the ages, but its imprint on about 200 Oklahomans and the loved ones they left behind is eternal.

For the survivors, life goes on. But it goes on differently. It’s like waking up one morning without the ability to see or hear: Adjustments can be made, remaining faculties refined, old activities resumed, but the world never seems quite the same.

Because it isn’t.

Among those killed in the worst terrorist attack in American history were lifelong federal employees who worked at the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building, parents and retirees who had simply stopped by to apply for benefits or fill out forms, infants and toddlers dropped off at the America’s Kids child-care center.

None of them deserved what they got when the clock struck 9:02. Here are some of their stories, as described in recent days to Times reporters:

Trudy Rigney

In 1990, Trudy Rigney was a case study in the kind of wrong turns that can wreck a promising life. A single mother in her mid-20s, she was unskilled, out of work, short on cash and squabbling with her family. Determined to go it alone, she and her son checked into a Tulsa homeless shelter.

It was at the shelter, recalls father Lee Rigney, that his rebellious, strong-willed daughter decided to turn her life around. She applied for welfare benefits, enrolled in college and began making up for lost time.

Rigney, 31, would have graduated in May from the University of Oklahoma with a degree in geography. She had a job awaiting her at the Oklahoma Water Resources Board, where she was working as an intern in a state office building directly across the street from the Murrah building.

Rigney was alive when emergency workers pulled her from the wreckage of her office, but she died in surgery only hours later. Family members were not informed of her death for five days.

Her father is not surprised that it took a 4,800-pound bomb to stop Rigney, who made excellent grades, took charge of the OU geography club and worked 30-hour weeks at the water board. All the while, she single-handedly raised her 11-year-old son, Jonmichael, who is moving to Broken Arrow, Okla., to live with his grandmother, Haroldine.

The bittersweet irony of it all occurred to her father during Rigney’s funeral. “It suddenly popped into my mind,” he said, “that while God was having one of his worst weeks, Trudy was up there reorganizing heaven.”

Thomas Hawthorne

Thomas L. Hawthorne had been hustling money for nine long months. As soon as he got it, he gave it away.

Hawthorne was a 52-year-old union representative for workers at the Dayton Tire plant in south Oklahoma City. When the rubber workers local went on strike last year, Hawthorne hit the streets. He arranged fund-raisers and solicited donations to help union members weather the strike. Some of the money was used to make mortgage payments. Some paid for prescription drugs. Some bought Christmas presents for strikers’ kids.

The territory was familiar to Hawthorne, a former United Way fund-raiser and a personal contributor to minority student programs and civil rights organizations.

It was his role as an employee advocate that took Hawthorne to the federal building on April 19 to obtain benefit forms for a disabled union member. He was inside the first-floor offices of the Social Security Administration when the bomb exploded.

Hawthorne’s 26-year-old son, Tom Jr., says his father’s death has worsened a household cash squeeze created by the unresolved strike. As his lost wages began to take a toll, Hawthorne began dipping into his savings account and 401(k) retirement plan to make ends meet.

Although his wife of 30 years, Donna, is employed as a fifth-grade teacher, there wasn’t enough cash on hand to pay for the funeral service. The funeral director agreed to bury Hawthorne on credit but demanded payment in full by next week, his son says.

Hawthorne’s union brothers are trying to repay his generosity by raising money for the family.

“We don’t have any emotional regrets,” his son said. “Dad may not have been able to leave Mom financially prepared, but he left us well off in every other way.”

Ricky Tomlin

At 9 a.m. on April 19, Tina Tomlin took her morning work break, grabbed a phone and called her husband. It was a daily ritual for the Tomlins, who celebrated their 25th anniversary on Valentine’s Day.

Rick T. Tomlin, known to friends and family as Ricky, answered the call from his fourth-floor office in the Murrah building, where he worked as a motor vehicle safety officer for the U.S. Department of Transportation. It was a choice location with a window view, much better than the interior office he had occupied before his last promotion. The couple began making small talk.

Then the line went dead.

In that instant, Tina Tomlin probably became the first person to experience the loss of a loved one in the Oklahoma City bombing. But it would be five long days before she was notified of her husband’s death.

Family members were not surprised to learn the two were talking on the phone when the bomb exploded. “He worshiped his wife,” said an aunt, Imogene Scott of Hutchison, Kan. “And he didn’t care who knew.”

In a state known for its conservatism, both personal and political, Tomlin, 46, was not afraid to rub against the grain. He served in Vietnam but detested violence. He voted Republican but revered John Lennon. His favorite song was “Imagine,” Lennon’s anthem of tolerance.

Tomlin made frequent appearances at public schools to warn children of potential highway hazards. He spent his spare time restoring a 1968 Plymouth Roadrunner. He was the father of two sons, ages 24 and 21.

During the funeral service, Tina Tomlin placed a photo of her husband on his casket. It had been taken by a friend, who had asked Tomlin what he was thinking about just before snapping the photo.

“I’m thinking about Tina,” was the reply.

Dana Cooper and Anthony Cooper

On the last morning of her life, Dana LeAnne Cooper was feeling more harried than usual.

Arising quickly, the 24-year-old Oklahoma City native bustled about, getting ready to accompany her 2-year-old son, Anthony, to the America’s Kids child-care center in the Murrah federal building. She had just begun working there as the facility’s new director.

In addition, she had to pack her travel bags because she was scheduled to depart later that day for San Francisco to attend a professional conference.

Shortly before 9 a.m., Dana Cooper and her son, who was known as Christopher, piled into the family car. Her husband, Anthony C. Cooper, drove them to the federal building. He told her he would pick them up in the afternoon and take her to the airport.

Like so many women nowadays, Dana Cooper was scrambling to balance career and family. “She battled with that all the time,” her husband recalled.

Dana Cooper was a student at the University of Oklahoma, where she was about a year away from receiving a degree in early childhood education. She was active in the First Baptist Church of Nicoma Park and several organizations that promote child welfare, safety and education.

“Being a student and working, she was afraid that Christopher didn’t get enough of her time,” Anthony Cooper said.

Dana Cooper was elated when she was hired three weeks earlier as the child-care center’s director. The new job allowed her to spend more time with young Anthony, whom she brought to the facility each day.

“She would have made an excellent teacher,” said Melva Nokes, owner of America’s Kids, who has known Dana Cooper since she was a teen-ager.

Dana Cooper and her son were both killed in the bomb explosion.

Randy Guzman

He had survived the Persian Gulf War and was looking forward to the day when he could take command of a Marine Corps infantry company.

But first, Capt. Randolph Guzman, known to friends as Randy, had to finish a three-year tour in the Marine recruiting office in Oklahoma City. He had a little more than a year to go.

It was not the kind of posting that attracts people to the Marines; Guzman, 28, spent long hours in his sixth-floor office in the Murrah building, processing piles of paperwork and coordinating recruiting efforts in Oklahoma and part of Kansas.

Guzman grew up in the Bay Area community of Castro Valley. He served in the Marine Corps ROTC program at Cal State Hayward, graduated with a history degree in 1988 and received his officer’s commission.

Guzman was transferred to Oklahoma City after serving in the Gulf conflict, which earned him a Kuwait Liberation medal. Fellow Marines described him as dedicated, tireless and upbeat. He was engaged to be married.

A weekend athlete and sports fan, Guzman joined some friends at a nearby Air Force base for a quick game of basketball early on the morning of April 19. Sometime around 8 a.m., he took leave of his companions so he wouldn’t be late for work. The bomb exploded an hour later.

Emergency workers found Guzman’s body encased in concrete rubble. He was in full uniform, sitting at his desk, unfinished paperwork before him.

Rebecca Anderson

Rebecca Anderson died while trying to save victims of the Oklahoma City bombing. Yet even in death, the 37-year-old licensed practical nurse would help others to live.

Anderson’s heart is now beating inside a 55-year-old Oklahoma man. One of her kidneys was donated to a 61-year-old New Mexico woman.

Anderson was home with her husband of just eight months on the morning of April 19. The couple was enjoying a rare day off together. They were watching television when news of the blast was aired.

“She jumped up and said: ‘Let’s go!’ ” recalled Fred Anderson.

Arriving near the scene of the devastation, Rebecca hopped out of the car and made her way through the chaos to the Murrah building.

After helping blast victims for about 20 minutes, she was struck in the head by a large chunk of falling concrete. When she died four days later, she became the only emergency worker to be killed in the rescue effort.

“Rarely do we go out of life doing what we want,” her husband said. “She gave her life doing what she wanted to do.”

A day after her death, a mail-order package arrived for the family. It turned out that she had ordered five 1995 Christmas ornaments--one for her husband and each of her four children, ages 10 through 17.

Even as a child, Anderson was known for her big smile and helping heart. She often brought home stray animals, even field mice. Against the advice of her husband and friends, she picked up hitchhikers. She quit a job at a debt-collection agency because she couldn’t bear the thought of badgering people in dire straits.

Hospitalized with severe head trauma, Anderson slipped in and out of coma. “She was fighting so hard to stay alive,” recalled her husband. Finally, he said a prayer, then told her:

“Quit fighting now. You can go now.”

Jo Ann Whittenberg

Jo Ann, Mary Ann and Lee Ann Whittenberg were about as close as it’s possible for family members to get. Jo Ann and Mary Ann were identical twins and had lived together with their mother, Lee Ann, in the same northeast Oklahoma City home for virtually all their 35 years. Their father died in 1989; there were no other siblings.

The lives of the three Whittenberg women were so intertwined that it was a major event when Jo Ann announced about seven months ago that she had found a place of her own and was moving out. Her mother and sister were happy for her, even if it meant they would see her less often.

A high school graduate, Jo Ann had worked as a telephone operator before landing a job with the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development about five years ago. For the last two years, she helped place poor people in subsidized housing units in the Oklahoma City area.

“She loved what she was doing,” her mother said. “She was career-minded--unmarried, never been married, no kids. I wanted her to get married so I could have grandchildren. She said, ‘If you want grandkids, go adopt them yourself.’ ”

After moving out, Jo Ann stopped by the family home frequently and had dinner with her sister two or three times a week. The twins talked by telephone every day and had already spoken to each other on the morning of the explosion. Jo Ann’s death has devastated her twin sister, who is unemployed. “It is extremely difficult right now,” their mother said. “They were so close.”

George Howard

George Michael Howard, 45, transferred to the Southwest from Vallejo, Calif., about a month ago to be closer to his recently widowed father in Dallas. Father and son were able to visit each other only once during the three weeks that Howard worked at the Murrah federal building in Oklahoma City, where he administered programs for Native Americans.

As soon as he heard about the bombing, 73-year-old George Lee Howard jumped in his car with his daughter Dietra and drove directly to the site of the explosion.

“We were very close,” the elder Howard said. “I’ll never find a place in my heart to forgive the person who did this. I asked our priest about that, and he was having a hard time forgiving too.”

Howard’s death also touched the lives of three children he had befriended before leaving Vallejo. The children, two girls and a boy, ranging in age from 6 to 9, lived with their single mother two doors away from Howard. “The children were ragged and didn’t have much to do,” his father said.

Howard bought three used bicycles, repaired and painted them, and gave them to the kids. Last Christmas, he brought the children to his home, where they had presents waiting under the tree: pretty sweaters and a doll for each of the girls; an action toy for the boy.

Howard had been befriending the less fortunate for most of his life.

After serving in Vietnam, he joined the Peace Corps in the Philippines, where he became a doctor of veterinary medicine. He frequently brought home injured animals to heal, including twin tiger cubs and a 600-pound adult Bengal, which he fitted with a glass eye. After returning to his hometown of Dallas, he participated weekly in a volunteer wildlife rescue operation about 30 miles away.

When his father picked up Howard’s car after the bombing, he was surprised to find a catcher’s mitt and bat in the back seat.

Howard’s friends supplied the explanation: No sooner had he arrived in Oklahoma City, they said, than he started playing catch with neighborhood kids in a nearby park.

Robert Luster and Donna Luster

Robert L. Luster Jr. and his large family had been down on their luck ever since he suffered a disabling heart attack in 1992, just four days after Christmas. Even in the best of times, money was tight.

So on the morning of April 19, finances were very much on Luster’s mind as he went downtown for an appointment at the Social Security office. Already on public assistance, Luster, 45, intended to apply for full disability payments.

Luster, whose last job was at an auto supply firm, was accompanied by his wife, Donna, 43. Both felt a special sense of urgency.

With six children and one grandchild living with them in a ramshackle three-bedroom house in Guthrie, Okla., the Lusters were $1,500 behind on their rent. Their landlord had obtained an eviction order that he clearly intended to enforce.

The landlord refused to relent, even after Robert and Donna Luster were buried in the rubble of the Murrah building. But the resulting publicity evoked such an outpouring of support that the couple’s children, ranging in age from 7 to 22, will be able to buy a home of their own.

“We will try to buy them a house. That way, they’ll have a permanent home and won’t have to worry about a landlord,” said Pam Oliver of the American Red Cross.

Friends describe Robert Luster as a soft-spoken, dignified man, Donna as a pious, churchgoing woman. “Their love was just unbelievable,” said Vern Epperson, a family friend.

Charlotte Thomas

Charlotte Andrea Lewis Thomas had a busy weekend ahead of her when the April 19 bombing interrupted her plans. She was going to visit her 19-year-old son, John, for the first time since he began serving a four-month sentence in a prison camp in Ridd, Okla.

Thomas had reserved a rental car for the trip. She was looking forward to seeing her son, who was incarcerated for shooting a gun from his car. He was intoxicated at the time, according to family members, and witnesses testified at the trial that he was shooting into the air.

The trip was scheduled for the following Saturday. As it turned out, that was the day that officials notified the family that Thomas, a Social Security Administration employee, had been killed in the explosion.

“She didn’t die a happy life,” said her mother, Bettie Lewis. “My peace comes on my daughter just resting and not having to do this anymore. The Lord just picked her up out of the middle of it so she didn’t have to suffer anymore.”

Thomas, 43, was a 1973 graduate of Oklahoma State University, where she received a bachelor of arts degree. She had worked for the government for 17 years, most of it in the Social Security office, where she was an appointment clerk. For the past three years, she had produced her office’s annual Black Awareness program, serving as writer, narrator and one of the actors.

Besides her mother and oldest son, Thomas is survived by her husband of 21 years, John, a 17-year-old son, Adrion, and a 16-year-old daughter, Dion.

Two days after the explosion, more misfortune visited the Thomases. While family members were still waiting to learn of Charlotte’s fate, her youngest son, Adrion, ran away.

“We knew he just wouldn’t be able to bear it,” said the boy’s grandmother, who has filed a missing person report.

Times staff writer Edwin Chen contributed to this story.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

The Victims

A partial list of people killed or missing in the Oklahoma City bombing. Deaths confirmed by the medical examiner’s office are designated with “ME.” The names of other dead are supplied by officials, relatives, co-workers and funeral homes. The names of missing are supplied by relatives and employers.

DEAD

Allen, Ted, 48, Norman, ME

Allen, Richard, 46, Yukon, ME

Almon, Baylee, 1, Oklahoma City, ME

Althouse, Diane E. 45, Edmond

Argo, Pamela, 36, Oklahoma City, ME

Avery, Saundra, 34, Midwest City, ME

Battle, Peola, 51, ME

Bell, Danielle, 1 1/2, ME

Bland, Shelly Turner, 25, ME

Blanton, Andrea, 33, Oklahoma City, ME

Bolden, Army Sgt. 1st Class Lola Rene, 40, Birmingham, Ala.

Boles, Jim, 51

Booker, Cassandra, 25, Oklahoma City, ME

Bowers, Carol, 53, Yukon, ME

Bradley, Peach Lyn, 3, ME

Brady, Woodrow, 41, Oklahoma City, ME

Brown, Cynthia Campbell, 26, ME

Burgess, Kimberly Ruth, 29

Burkett, David N., 47, ME

Burns, Donald E., 62

Carr, Karen Gist, 32, ME

Chafey, Rona, 35, Oklahoma City, ME

Chavez, Zackary, 3, Oklahoma City, ME

Chesnut, Sharon L., 47, Oklahoma City, ME

Chipman, Robert, 51, Edmond, ME

Clark, Kimberly K., 39, Oklahoma City, ME

Clark, Peggy, 42

Cooper, Anthony C. II, 2, Moore, ME

Cooper, Dana L. Brown, 24, Moore, ME

Coverdale, Elijah, 2, Oklahoma City, ME

Coverdale, Aaron, 5, Oklahoma City, ME

Cregan, Katherine, 60, Oklahoma City, ME

Coyne, Jaci, 14 months, Moore, ME

Curry, Steven, 44, Norman, ME

Daniels, Brenda, 42, Oklahoma City, ME

Davis, Sgt. Benjamin L., 29, Oklahoma City

Day, Diana Lynn, 36, ME

Deveroux, Castine, 49, Oklahoma City, ME

Dillow, Kim R. Cousins, 33, ME

Driver, Sheila, 28, Oklahoma City, ME

Eckles, Ashley, 4, Guthrie, ME

Ferrell, Susan, 37, Oklahoma City, ME

Fields, Carrol (Chip), 49, Guthrie, ME

Finley, Katherine, 45, ME

Florence, Linda, 43, Oklahoma City, ME

Fritzler, Donald, 64, Oklahoma City, ME

Fritzler, Mary Anne, 57, Oklahoma City, ME

Garrett, Tevin, 1, Oklahoma City, ME

Goodson, Margaret, 55, Oklahoma City, ME

Griffin, Ethel Louise, 55, Edmond, ME

Guiles, Colleen, 58, Oklahoma City, ME

Guzman, Marine Corps Capt. Randolph, 28, Castro Valley, Calif.

Haddock, Kayla

Hawthorne, Thomas Sr., 52, Choctaw, ME

Hightower, Anita C., 27, ME

Hodges, Thompson E., 54, Norman, ME

Holland, Peggy Louise, 37, Oklahoma City

Hollingsworth, Diane, 46, ME

Howard, George M., 46, Vallejo, Calif., ME

Howell, Wanda, 34, Spencer, ME

Huff, Robbin A., 37, Bethany, ME

Ice, Paul D., 42, Oklahoma City, ME

Jenkins, Christi Y., 32, ME

Johnson, Domonique, 2, Oklahoma City, ME

Johnson, Raymond L., 59, Oklahoma City, ME

Jones, Larry J., 46, Yukon, ME

Kennedy, Blake R., 1 1/2, Amber, ME

Koelsch, Valerie, 33, Oklahoma City, ME

Lauderdale, Teresa L., 41, ME

Lenz, Carrie, 26, Choctaw, ME

Leonard, Donald R., 50, Edmond, ME

Levy, Airman 1st Class Lakesha R., 21

Long, Rheta, 60, ME

Loudenslager, Michael, 48, Harrah, ME

Luster, Donna, 44, Guthrie, ME

Luster, Robert, 45, Guthrie, ME

McCarthy, James Anthony, 53, ME

McCullough, Kenneth, 36, Edmond, ME

Maroney, Mickey, 50, Oklahoma City, ME

Martinez, Gilberto, 35, Oklahoma City, ME

Mathes-Worton, Tresia, 28, Okla. City, ME

Medearis, Claude, 41, ME

Merrell, Frankie, 23, ME

Mitchell, Eula Leigh, 65, ME

Moss, John C. III, 51, Warren, Ark.

Randolph, Jill, 27, Oklahoma City, ME

Rees, Terry Smith, 41, Midwest City, ME

Rentie, Mary Leasure, 39, ME

Reyes, Antonio, 55, ME

Ridley, Kathryn, 24, ME

Rigney, Trudy, 31, Midwest City, ME

Scroggins, Lanny L., 46, Oklahoma City, ME

Seidl, Kathy L., 39, Shawnee, ME

Sells, Leona L., 57, ME

Smith, Chase, 3, Oklahoma City, ME

Smith, Colton, 2, Oklahoma City, ME

Sohn, Army Sgt. 1st Class Victoria, 36, Moore

Stewart, John T., 51, Oklahoma City, ME

Stratton, Dolores M., 51, Moore

Tapia, Emilio, 49, Oklahoma City, ME

Thomas, Charlotte A., 43, ME

Thompson, Michael, 47, Oklahoma City, ME

Titsworth, Kayla M., 3, Oklahoma City

Tomlin, Ricky L., 46, ME

Treanor, Larue, 56, Guthrie, ME

Treanor, Luther, 61, Guthrie, ME

Valdez, Jules, 51, ME

Van Ess, John K., 67, Chickasha, ME

Wade, Johnny A., 42, Edmond, ME

Walker, David J., 54, Edmond, ME

Watkins, Wanda L., 49, Midwest City

Weaver, Michael, 40, Edmond, ME

Welch, Julie, 23, Oklahoma City, ME

Westberry, Robert, 57, Oklahoma City, ME

Whicher, Alan, 40, Edmond, ME

Whittenberg, Jo Ann, 35, Oklahoma City, ME

Williams, Frances A., 48 ME

Williams, Scott, 24, rural Tuttle, ME

Wilson, Clarence, 49, ME

***

KILLED IN RESCUE

Anderson, Rebecca, 37, a nurse

***

MISSING

Aleman, Lucio, 33

Alexander, Teresa, 33

Avillanoza, Peter

Bloomer, Olen B., 61

Bolte, Mark A.

Broxterman, Paul G.

Carrillo, Michael J., 44

Cooper, Antonio, 6 months

Cottingham, Harley

DeMaster, Peter

Fisher, Judy J.

Genzer, Jamie

Housley, Coleen

Hulburt, Charles

Hulburt, Jean

Johnson, Norma Jean

Kreymborg, Carolyn A.

Leinen, Kathy

Martin, James K.

McGonnell, Betsy J.

McKinney, Linda

McRaven, Airman 1st Class Cartney

Meek, Claudette, 43

Miller, Derwin, 27

Nix, Patricia, 47

Parker, Jerry L.

Reeder, Michelle A.

Ritter, Claudine

Rosas, Christy, 22

Sanders, Sonja

Sheperd, Karan

Texter, Victoria

Thompson, Virginia

Turner, Larry L.

Vazquez, Robert J.

Williams, Steve, 42

Woodbridge, Ronota A.

SOURCE: Associated Press