Wow. I’ve been in Houston over twenty years, and I’d never heard of this.
First came the explosion, ripping through the playground with a sound like every school locker on earth slamming shut at once. Then came the carnage — six people killed, half of them children, and almost a score injured. Finally, like a lingering aftershock, came sorrow, anger and the struggle to come to grips with an act senseless and evil.
Today marks the 50th anniversary of the Poe Elementary School bombing, paradoxically one of the most horrendous events to mar the city’s history and — except in the minds of its aging victims — one of the seemingly least remembered.
What a horrible thing. I can’t even think too much about it or it’ll freak me out. I just hope this remains a one-time event in Houston’s history.