Tapes from the dark side contains descriptions of violence and sexuality.

Listener discretion is advised.

On a quiet morning, April 19, 1995, Oklahoma City stirred awake like any other spring day, cloudless, bright, and filled with the mundane rhythms of the Midwestern weekday. Office workers filed into the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building downtown,

parents dropped children off at the daycare inside the building,

and the streets buzzed with the easy calm of routine.

No one could have known that the next few minutes would etch themselves into the darkest chapters of American history,

and at precisely 902 a.m. That calm shattered.

Tammy Payne in the TV9 newsroom if you are anywhere downtown you probably heard it and felt it

an explosion of some kind downtown Oklahoma City take a look at this picture this is our

tower cam shot a plume of smoke rising in the air.

I was on the phone with one of the fire chiefs.

Was an attack on innocent children and defenseless citizens.

It was an act of cowardice and it was evil.

The United States will not tolerate it. Without warning, a deafening

explosion ripped through the heart of the city. A rider rental truck parked in front of the Murrah

building detonated with catastrophic force, its cargo of ammonium nitrate fertilizer and fuel

igniting into an inferno of fire and steel.

In a single blinding instant, one-third of the nine-story federal building was reduced to rubble.

The blast wave obliterated glass in a several block radius, tossing cars, snapping trees,

and collapsing nearby structures. As panicked screams filled the air, first responders rushed to

the scene, weaving through a war zone of twisted metal and concrete. One of the very first people

on scene that day was a man named Terrence Yiki. He helped save at least three people's

...