Survivor of Oklahoma City Bombing Reflects on Life and Resilience After Tragedy

April 19, 1995, began as a picturesque spring day for Amy Downs, a teller at a credit union located within the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City. This day, however, would mark a turning point in her life and the history of the nation.

“I remember the red buds were blooming,” Downs told Fox News Digital. “I was so excited. I was getting ready to close my very first house. I don’t think I did any work in that first hour of the day. I was running around talking to all my friends about the house.

“Then, I glanced at my watch, thinking, ‘Oh gosh, it’s almost nine o’clock. I’m going to get in trouble. I had better get back to my desk.'”

As she hurried back, her attention was briefly drawn to a co-worker who was six months pregnant seated beside her. Downs asked if she needed anything, but before an answer could escape, chaos erupted.

“I don’t know if the words even came out of my mouth or not, because that’s when the bomb went off and everything went black,” Downs recalled.

On that fateful day, a truck bomb detonation took place outside the federal building, claiming 168 lives and becoming the deadliest domestic attack on U.S. soil. In the years since, Downs and other survivors have shared their experiences, including in a recent National Geographic docuseries titled “Oklahoma City Bombing: One Day in America.”

Reflecting on her motivation to share these painful memories, Downs said, “I think it’s so important to remember what happened and the lessons that were learned.”

The Darkness After the Boom

At the time of the bombing, Downs was just 28 years old, trapped upside down in her office chair. The explosion had hurled her three floors down, leaving her buried under 10 feet of debris.

Each gasp for air felt like fire in her chest. Glass shards impaled her body, and panic overwhelmed her as she fought for survival.

“I remember hearing roaring and screaming, and this powerful rushing sensation, like I was falling,” said Downs. “I found out I had fallen. … I couldn’t move. I couldn’t see. It was very hard to breathe. I had no idea what had happened. I just knew it was bad.”

She desperately screamed for help, only to be met with silence. But after what seemed like an eternity, she detected the sound of firefighters outside her immediate peril.

“Let’s split up. Let’s look for the daycare babies,” one of the firefighters instructed, referring to the children at America’s Kids Daycare located within the building.

Downs found the situation surreal, confused as to why they were searching for daycare children when she herself was in dire need of assistance. Unbeknownst to her, she was at the bottom of what had once been a nine-story structure.

Close Calls and Life-or-Death Moments

Fire Chief Mike Shannon heard Downs’ cries and was prepared to go back for her. However, as circumstances turned dire with reports of a potential second bomb, he and his crew had to evacuate, leaving her behind.

In his account, Shannon vividly described hearing her sobs as he was ushered away from the scene. At that moment, Downs prepared for the worst.

“I now knew it had been a bomb, and it looked like there was another one,” she explained. “I was getting ready to die. I prayed, or maybe you could call it bargaining with God. I kept promising God anything, just to be able to live. I prayed for a second chance.”

In her darkest hour, she clung to familiar verses from Psalm 23, reciting what little she could remember.

“The only thing I could recall was, ‘I walked through the valley of the shadow of death,’” Downs recalled, struggling to keep her mind focused. Just as despair threatened to consume her, a comforting song from her childhood surged through her thoughts, granting her an unexpected sense of peace.

A Miraculous Rescue

Fortunately, no second bomb detonated. Once first responders confirmed this, they made a rush back into the rubble. Shannon remembered the sounds of hope as he returned to search for Downs, who, in her state of helplessness, promised to bake chocolate chip cookies if they could save her.

After six and a half hours, she was finally freed from the wreckage.

“I was in the hospital for about eight days,” Downs said. “The biggest injury was my leg, which had been split open. The hardest part was discovering that 18 of my 33 co-workers were killed. Grief was something I couldn’t comprehend. Dealing with the grief and trauma was the hard part. The injuries were nothing compared to that.”

As one of the last survivors extracted from the debris, Downs faced the grim truth of that day: 168 people lost their lives, including 19 children, and nearly 700 others suffered injuries.

The Weight of Survivor’s Guilt

In the aftermath, Downs grappled with survivor’s guilt.

“I remember on the eighth day in the hospital, they found my best friend’s body. She had baby girls at home,” she recalled tearfully.

Yet, amid her sorrow, a resilient community came together. Within 72 hours of the bombing, around 7,000 people lined up to donate blood for the victims.

“We have our differences, and differences are not a bad thing. But it’s inspiring to see how we can set aside those differences and unify for a greater purpose,” Downs reflected.

Uncovering the Truth Behind the Horror

The media reported on the investigation, revealing that the bombing was orchestrated by two U.S. Army veterans, Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols, whose actions stemmed from a deep-seated animosity toward the federal government.

Downs was still recovering in the ICU when news broke. She expressed disbelief, stating, “When I found out that it was an American, someone who had also served in our military, I struggled. I could not wrap my head around it.”

Years later, she confronted McVeigh in court, describing it as profoundly disturbing because he seemed almost proud of his heinous actions.

McVeigh faced execution by lethal injection in 2001, while Nichols received a life sentence without parole.

A Journey of Transformation

Determined to leverage her second chance at life, Downs transformed herself both physically and emotionally. Once a “couch potato” weighing 355 pounds, she lost 200 pounds and even completed a full Ironman triathlon.

As she chalked up her experiences, she embraced a new life. She eventually returned to work at the same credit union, now known as Allegiance Credit Union, where she rose to the role of president and CEO.

“I had struggled with school and flunked out of college before. I was lucky to have bosses who believed in me. I promised God that if I survived, I would change my life, and I meant it. I returned to school, got my degree, and just last week, I retired. It’s time to embark on a new chapter,” Downs said.

Inspiring a Community to Carry On

Currently, Downs shares her story as a motivational speaker, all while crafting a new bucket list that includes a 160-mile trek along Camino de Santiago and a cross-country bike ride.

“I’m still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up,” the 58-year-old chuckled, radiating optimism.

Through her experience, she aims to highlight how a community can unite in the face of tragedy. “It showcases the strength of the human spirit and the courage of those who rushed in to help,” she stated, emphasizing the communal bonds forged in adversity.

“The reality is that we all confront challenges in our lives that leave us feeling buried under rubble. However, when we unite during difficult times, we discover that we are stronger than we believe. Together, we can overcome any obstacle.”