Through the Looking Glass

One of Oklahoma City’s best-kept secrets is the 45th Infantry Museum. Among the relics hidden away in this martial labyrinth are a plethora of souvenirs plundered from various private residences of Adolf Hitler by said Division during the liberation of Germany in 1945. The remarkably plain yet extraordinarily eerie centerpiece of this particular collection is an oval mirror from the bedroom of Hitler’s bunker in Berlin. I couldn’t help but wonder, as I saw myself in the glass, if he had gazed into this mystical pane on the day he committed suicide.

Adolf Hitler was born on this day in Braunau-am-Inn, Austria-Hungary – 120 years ago.

Evil Empire?

On this day in 1995, at 9:02 a.m. Central Standard Time, the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in downtown Oklahoma City was destroyed by an act of domestic terrorism. 168 people were killed, ranging in age from 3 months to 73 years old.

The bombing was allegedly perpetrated as an act of protest against the conduct of the federal government in the siege of Randy Weaver’s home at Ruby Ridge, Idaho in August 1992 and a similar standoff at the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas - which ended on this day in that same year. The former resulted in the death of Weaver’s wife and 14-year-old son, while the latter ended in an inferno that consumed the lives of self-styled apocalyptic prophet David Koresh and 75 of his followers.

The Oklahoma City National Memorial opened on October 9, 1997. The largest of its kind in the U.S., the memorial spans 3.3 acres. Bronze arches, known as the “Gates of Time”, marked 9:01 and 9:03, signify the moments of peace before and chaos immediately following the explosion. The reflecting pool , representing the moment of destruction, is an immense abyss created by a thin sheet of water flowing over black granite. The effect is somber and contemplative – even under bright sunshine on an otherwise carefree day.

The other most significant feature of the memorial is the Field of Empty Chairs, with individual bronze chairs crafted for each victim of the attack, including smaller versions for the 19 children killed in the blast. Glass blocks form the base of each chair and are illuminated at night. Overall, the memorial is a powerful cenotaph marking a sad moment in American history.

Timothy McVeigh, convicted and executed for his involvement in the incident, said in reference to the victims of the bombing that “They may be individually innocent, but they are guilty because they work for the Evil Empire." A tragic sentiment when one considers that as Americans, we have not only the right but also the responsibility to voice our dissent and take our leaders to task when our government fails to operate within those parameters proscribed by law. This great nation, our “Empire” as it were, is a direct reflection of those who choose to actively participate in the shaping and molding process. To wage war upon it is simply to attack ourselves.

Bicycle built for...Steam

One of the more fascinating items on display at the Oklahoma City Museum of Science was a steam-powered bicycle built in 1885 by inventor Lucius Day Copeland in Phoenix, Arizona. Beginning with this augmentation of his Star high wheel safety bicycle, he went on to become a steam-power pioneer - designing a number of similar bicycles before graduating to automobiles.

"NEW YORK CITY?!?!?!?!!!"

On the day following my investigation of the Shipwreck! exhibit, my traveling companion and I made a pilgrimage to the town of Guthrie, about 30 miles north of Oklahoma City. Originally established as the state’s territorial capital following the land run of 1889, it grew over a matter of months to become the “Queen of the Prairie” with electricity, a trolley system, underground parking garages, and all other manner of modern conveniences alongside the ornate brick buildings and Victorian mansions lining its streets . It became the first state capital 1907, but this title was lost by popular vote in 1910…by some accounts in retaliation for criticism of state politicians in the local newspaper. By order of the governor, the state seal was moved (or “stolen” according to local lore) in the middle of the night on June 10 of that year. Legend has it that a posse was formed and sent to Oklahoma City to reclaim the seal by force…all to no avail.

With the loss of the capital, Guthrie took an economic nosedive – losing railroad traffic, commerce, industry and eventually much of its population. As it shrank while nearby communities grew, Guthrie never experienced the urban sprawl nor the drive to demolish and modernize that became so prevalent in the other towns. As a result, much of the original city remains completely intact as if it were a time capsule of Victorian frontier living. The city currently boasts the largest urban Historic District in the U.S., with over 2,100 buildings over 400 city blocks.

We began our visit with a trolley tour of the city. The narration was pre-recorded and sorely in need of maintenance. While many of the details were fascinating, the tour lacked color and in many cases (particularly concerning architectural styles) accuracy. Drive times between sites were filled with dead air, squandering ideal opportunities for more elaborate anecdotes. The narrator’s tone was decidedly bitter, particularly when referencing the loss of not only the state capital, but also the university Guthrie had been promised as consolation. Nonetheless, the city spoke for itself through both its extraordinary examples of turn-of-the-century architecture and its unique history.

Historic plaques tell the story of many former residents and their businesses throughout the downtown area. The Same Old Moses Saloon once stood near the corner of Harrison Avenue and 2nd Street. Its proprietor, Moses Weinberger was a banana-merchant turned liquor-dealer from Wichita who had settled in Guthrie during the land run of 1889. A popular host, successful entrepreneur, and shrewd publicist, Weinberger once invited local resident and prohibition crusader Carry Nation to speak at his saloon with the intention of drawing a massive crowd. Upon finishing her speech, she produced her infamous bar-busting hatchet and proceeded to have at the gin mill's fine wooden countertop – at which point she was restrained and ejected from the premises. From that day forward, the Same Old Moses displayed a sign proclaiming “All Nations Welcome Except Carry”.

Directly across the street from the site of the Old Moses stands the Blue Bell Bar, built in 1903 to replace the original wood-frame structure opened in 1889. Tom Mix, star of many early cinematic Westerns, bartended at the Blue Bell during the territorial years before making his way to Hollywood. My compatriot and I sought refreshment at this fine establishment and enjoyed the quaint interior which has retained many of the original fixtures and fittings. Several seats down the bar, two local gentlemen discussed the ineffectiveness of the local 3.2 percent beer while they sampled a variety of imported brews for comparison of taste and strength. At one point, one of the gentlemen insisted on evidence of his drink’s origin and, having read past what he described as “a bunch of German writing” he announced “Bottled in…” - now joined by his partner as they exclaimed in unison: “NEW YORK CITY?!?!?!?!!!” - bringing uproarious laughter to all five of us in the Blue Bell. Somewhere an advertising executive is smiling.
As we departed, the fellow drinking New York’s finest German beer bid us farewell: “Y’all come back and see us again now. We’ll be stuck here for the rest of our lives.” Actually, I can think of worse places.