On April 19, Oklahoma City became the focus of global attention because of the worst-ever bombing in US history. At 9:00 that morning, I had just arrived at my office when I heard an enormous sound, and the whole building shivered. The glass windows of the shop across the street shattered. No one knew what had happened until we heard on the radio about the explosion at the Federal Building.

My first response was, "How could this happen in Oklahoma City?" This is something that should only happen in megacities like Los Angeles or New York. My next reaction was to feel lucky, beacause I I had lived in the apartment block across from the Federal Building for two-and-a-half years, and I only just recently moved. I just missed being a victim.

Next came days of television reports: the lifeless bodies of children, blood-covered faces of the injured, tearful family members of victims. I cried every time I saw these reports. It is estimated that there were about 900 people in the building, and the whole downtown area was devastated by the blast.

Oklahoma City is my second home. I came here in 1990 to study, received an MBA in 1993, and then married. My husband is an "Okie," as Oklahomans are sometimes called. I have a great deal of affection for Oklahoma City. After the explosion, my husband hurried to the scene as a volunteer to help people, and we donated some money to victims.

Over these days, Oklahomans displayed tremendous unity and compassion. If rescue workers needed anything, they only had to tell the local radio stations; when the request was broadcast, local people immediately donated what was needed. Also, there were purses and wallets scattered all around the explosion site, but no one stole them. This is something virtually unimaginable for a big city.

Rescuers from out of state said that at the World Trade Center bombing in New York City, none of the countless New Yorkers donated food or other things the rescue workers needed. The rescuers had to pay for their own food. But in Oklahoma City, with its much smaller population, everyone reacted with great compassion. All the rescue workers needed to do was say the word, and food would appear at their fingertips. They were really moved by this. I know that Mrs. Ho, the owner of the Hunan restaurant here in the city, was especially helpful, sending food to the site every day.

There are many Chinese students in Oklahoma City, and I meet with them frequently because of my job. I discovered that the vast majority of them had the attitude that the incident wasn't related to their lives. They were quite of the mindset that "each person sweeps the snow only from his own doorstep, without seeing if the neighbor's tiles are frozen over."

As I am writing, the latest casualty figures are estimated at more than 200 dead, more than 400 injured, and about 150 missing. President Clinton is in Oklahoma City on this day to pray for the victims and their families. Oklahoma City will not fold up because of this disaster; instead, it will become stronger. I am confident that things will get better.

In the past, people often snickered when I told them my husband is an Okie. Although my husband is a Caucasian, people would ask if he was American Indian. A lot of people think Oklahomans must be unsophisticated hicks. Many Chinese here are even worse about ridiculing the local residents. So I have always been a little embarrassed to say that my husband is an Oklahoman.

But after this incident, I am really honored to be half Okie. And all Americans are proud of the Oklahomans. In the future I will always declare that I am half Okie, and that I'm proud of it!