Charlee from Oklahoma

@Cbvheartland2 His voice and Bill Kurtis…aural ambien.

My wife was watching City Confidential and said the narration could put her to sleep, I said those people never look like they sound, She goes into this older gentleman with a white beard and probably this and that, so I looked him up😂😂 I was right

@5StringsInTX It was a drive in so extra big and extra loud.

@WilliamsAndee49 Completely understandable.

Old Yeller

@vbspurs My cousin’s mom drove one for several years. Her dad bought it at an auction. It was luxurious.

You haven't lived until you've been inside a livery service Lincoln towncar in NYC in the 1980s.

@RobProvince @DeebsFLA I retract my previous statement about benevolent guises. He’s exactly what a family annihilator profile should look like.

He was a convicted felon who… wait for it. Broke the law to get a gun.

@vbspurs So beautiful and tragic

Ooh ooh! Ramon Novarro. Once considered the successor to the Latin Lover legacy of Rudolph Valentino. Ironically, he was gay too. And murdered by two male hustlers in his Laurel Canyon home (1968).

@RobProvince Family annihilators lurk beneath a benevolent surface most of the time.

Dude killed his entire family….

@kimmie_c_ CPS got involved after the gun. It was done quietly but efficiently.

@WilliamsAndee49 That's incredible sad. I hope he found a way out of that situation

Ok this is so cool & I might be crying just a little bit 🥹

To my Oklahoma family; this piece comes straight from the heart. I hope you’ll take a moment to read it and feel what I felt. Thank you for allowing me to be a small part of it. I came to @okcthunder to play basketball. I left carrying 168 lives. When I was traded to the Oklahoma City Thunder, I was thinking about basketball, nothing more. I didn’t know that before I ever stepped on the court, this place would show me something that would stay with me far longer than any game. Like any player, my mind was on the game. A new team, a new city, a new opportunity. I expected the usual routine when I landed in Oklahoma City. Physicals, practices, meetings, and a jersey waiting in a locker. But before any of that, Sam Presti pulled me aside and told me there was somewhere we needed to go. He didn’t explain much, and I didn’t think to ask. I was focused on the next step in my career. What I didn’t understand was that, before I could represent the place I was about to play for, I needed to understand it. So instead of heading to the facility, he took me to the Oklahoma City National Memorial & Museum. I walked in without knowing what I was about to see, and within minutes, everything slowed down. There are 168 chairs at the memorial, each one representing a life lost on April 19, 1995. They are arranged in quiet rows, each engraved with a name, each standing where a person once stood in that building. Then you notice something that is impossible to process the first time you see it. Some of the chairs are smaller. They belong to children. There is no speech that prepares you for that, no headline that captures it. You simply stand there, and the silence carries a kind of weight that is hard to describe but impossible to ignore. As you walk through the memorial, you pass between two gates marked 9:01 and 9:03. At first, they seem like simple numbers, but then you understand what they hold. One marks the last minute before the attack. The other marks the first minute after. And in between those two gates is 9:02, the moment when everything changed. That minute does not feel like history when you are standing there. It feels present. The reflecting pool stretches across what used to be a city street, its surface calm and still. When you look into it, you do not just see water. You see yourself standing in a place where unimaginable loss occurred, and for a moment, everything else in your life becomes quieter. Nearby stands the Survivor Tree, an American elm that was damaged in the blast but endured. It is not untouched. Its scars are part of what it represents. But it is still standing, and in that, it carries a kind of strength that does not need to be explained. We did not speak much while we were inside. It did not feel like a place for conversation. Some places ask for words. This one asks for reflection. When we stepped outside, Sam Presti looked me in the eye and said, “This is what this state has been through.” Then he said something I will never forget. “Every time you step on that court, you are not just playing in front of fans. You are playing for a state that carries this with it. Give them everything you have. They deserve that.” In that moment, basketball felt different. Not smaller, but clearer. Because what I had just seen was not only about what was lost. It was about what remained. A state that had experienced unimaginable pain and still chose to come together, to rebuild, and to move forward without losing its humanity. From that day on, every time I stepped on the court, I carried that with me. On the nights when I was tired, when I was hurt, when I was dealing with challenges that felt heavy in the moment, I would think about those chairs, about that minute, about the people behind those names. And I was reminded that what I was going through did not compare to what this state had endured. oklahoman.com/story/opinion/…

@kimmie_c_ It was. I was a teacher then. Emotionally disturbed kids are next level. We found out his parents were doing all the bad things to him and in front of him plus running drugs and stolen merchandise.

@WilliamsAndee49 Oh man! That had to be scary. So glad your dad was there

@wtfcetialpha5 I was teaching in a small school in nowhere OK & the history teacher was was watching the news for current events when it switched live to the Murrah explosion. That’s what we did the rest of the day at the ms & hs side of the school. It still brings tears to my eyes.

Today is the anniversary of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building bombing in OKC. I was in class at UCO in Edmond when I heard the explosion, over 15 miles away. One student is class said, "Sonic boom?" My USMC classmate said, "Ordinance." We went out to see if it was Tinker

@vbspurs I have a really good outlook about it, but pulmonary hypertension isn’t for the weak. I have a stay in the lower altitudes so no jetting off anymore.

@WilliamsAndee49 Oh I'm sorry!

People used to have these lives.

@vbspurs He transitioned into education in the late 70s but built houses on the side. My dad has a storied life.

Ah! A developer's child. No wonder you know houses.

@vbspurs My dad’s company built it in the 70s, so I know it has good bones, but flippers just ruined the aesthetic. I like a vintage house because I was raised in one. Dad built mom 3 homes & they’re still standing. She passed 3 years ago &signed the last one back to him before she died.

@WilliamsAndee49 God bless your bank account for trying!

Colonial.

@vbspurs Every surface was painted flat eggshell, even the cabinets & the vinyl tiles had porcelain put directly on them & the garage was turned to a den, but he didn’t level the floor correctly. It’s been a hot mess fixing it a room at a time.

@WilliamsAndee49 Like what!

@AlaskanCourtney @LadyJessMacBeth I like the colors. I need to do mine.

@Batenswytch Siamese cats are neurotic things. I had them exclusively for twenty years. I actually had one live twenty years. They scarf down the food. I bought larger kibble and grain free because they are allergy prone. They tore my blinds & screens trying to get the birds.

IDK what to do with this cat ya'll. Booger, the short haired siamese cat will. not. shut. up. Constantly yowling, picking at the window screens and trying to tear them, pulling at the screen door. When I let him in to eat, he rarely chews, eats tons of food, then regurgitates