OKLAHOMA CITY ? Men, women and children, 168 of them, lost their lives.

Eight hundred forty-two people were injured, and thousands, perhaps millions, more were heartbroken. At the time — April 19, 1995 — it was the deadliest terror attack in U.S. history. The Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building had been ripped apart after 4,800 pounds of explosives were detonated by a man with a grudge against the government.

Since then, the black clouds of Sept. 11 and the resulting Afghan and Iraqi wars have for many Americans eclipsed the Oklahoma City horrors.

But here, a mere five hours from Lawrence, it seems unlikely that day will be forgotten soon.

Today, the downtown scene of that national disaster is the Oklahoma City National Memorial operated by the National Park Service. Since it opened in 2000, the six-acre memorial has attracted 1.5 million people. A Memorial Center Museum that opened in 2001 has attracted 740,000 visitors.

About 200 feet of wire fence, a portion of the original that surrounded the blast area, now stand along Harvey Avenue on the west edge of the memorial. From day one the fence became a depository for items of hope and affection. More than 50,000 offerings ranging from flags to personal notes to stuffed animals to laminated letters have been collected and preserved in the memorial’s archives. Visitors continue to leave tokens of sympathy.

One message on the fence is in memory of New York City firefighter Robert Downey. He and other members of FDNY’s search and rescue team flew to Oklahoma City the day of the Murrah explosion. He and his crew, along with many others, worked their way through the precarious remains of the federal building digging for survivors and recovering bodies.

Downey, according to the tribute on the fence, later was a victim of the Sept. 11 disaster while helping evacuate people from the World Trade Center when it collapsed. He died at age 64.

What was once Fifth Street, where the truck carrying the explosives was parked, is now a blocklong, black granite reflecting pool. At each end of the pool, twin metal multistoried gates mark the formal entrances to the memorial. The east gate is inscribed 9:01, the minute before the explosion, and the west gate reads 9:03, the minute after the world changed for so many.

Thousands of mementos have been left on the wire fence along Harvey Avenue at the Oklahoma City National Memorial and the Memorial Center Museum. The fence is part of the scene of the April 19, 1995, terrorist attack that killed 168 people.

The piece of land that once supported the Murrah Federal Building now holds 168 empty bronze and stone chairs as symbols of the void felt by family members and friends. They are in nine rows representing the building’s nine stories. There are 19 small chairs representing the children. Each chair’s illuminated glass base is inscribed with a victim’s name.

Across from the darkened reflecting pool at twilight, the lighted brass chairs glow softly against the dark trees that stand behind them. A handful of visitors move slowly through the grounds in silence. The silhouetted First United Methodist Church, used as a morgue the day of the bombing, keeps sentinel behind the chairs, its tall cross-tipped steeple pointing skyward.

The front page of the April 20, 1995, edition of The Daily Oklahoman was devoted to the terrorist bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City.

This black reflecting pool used to be a street. It's now part of the Oklahoma City National Memorial. In the back, at left, are the 168 illuminated stone and glass chairs, which each bear the name of a blast victim.