On April 19, 1995 the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City shook the nation, destroying our complacent sense of safety and sending a community into a tailspin of shock, grief, and bewilderment. Almost as difficult as the bombing itself has been the aftermath, its legacy for Oklahoma City and for the nation, and the struggle to recover from this unprecedented attack. In The Unfinished Bombing, Edward T. Linenthal explores the many ways Oklahomans and other Americans have tried to grapple with this catastrophe. Working with exclusive access to materials gathered by the Oklahoma City National Memorial Archive and drawing from over 150 personal interviews with family members of those murdered, survivors, rescuers, and many others. Linenthal looks at how the bombing threatened cherished ideas about American innocence, sparked national debate on how to respond to terrorism at home and abroad, and engendered a new "bereaved community" in Oklahoma City itself. Linenthal examines how different stories about the bombing were told through positive narratives of civic renewal and of religious redemption and more negative narratives of toxicity and trauma. He writes about the extraordinary bonds of affection that were created in the wake of the bombing, acts of kindness, empathy, and compassion that existed alongside the toxic legacy of the event. The Unfinished Bombing offers a compelling look at both the individual and the larger cultural consequences of one of the most searing events in recent American history.

The Oklahoma City National Memorial Trust presents information on the Oklahoma City National Memorial Center and the symbolic memorial of the bombing on April 19, 1995 of the Alfred P. Murrah federal building, which claimed the lives of 168 people. The Oklahoma City National Memorial is a unit of the National Park System. The center highlights educational materials, press releases, and visitor information.

A family plants an American elm on the Great Plains of Oklahoma just as the capital city is taking root -- the little tree grows as Oklahoma City grows until 9:02 a.m. on April 19, 1995, the day America fell silent at the hands of one of its own. With her branches torn and tattered and filled with evidence from the bombing, the charred elm faces calls from some that she be cut down. In the end, as the rubble of the Alfred P. Murrah Building is cleared, this solitary tree remains -- but only because of a few who marvel that, like them, she is still there. The next spring when the first buds appear proving the tree is alive, the word spreads like a prairie wildfire through the city and the world. And the tree, now a beacon of hope and strength, is christened with a new name: The Survivor Tree.