"People want to define me by my adversity and grief." - Frank Silovsky

The ironic thing is that, for Kathy's sake, she would have been better to die in the building. Thirty-five of her closest workers, including her very best friend Susan, were killed in the Oklahoma City bombing. She attended those funerals, buried most of those 35 people, and it was very draining for her. Kathy had been fighting clinical depression before the bombing, and she had a fair amount of survival guilt. She felt like she should have died instead of Susan, who was young and full of life. For the next three years it was tough to watch her continue to sink deeper and deeper into depression. On March 9, 1998, she swallowed large quantities of medicine, and she died on March 18. So she's another victim of the bombing—it really finished her off.

Kathy founded the Metropolitan Fair Housing Council in 1978, and the city has really opened up in large measure due to her work in civil rights. Since her death she's been accepted into the Women's Hall of Fame, and the Oklahoma Human Rights Commission gave her an award for her work in civil rights. My way of handling the grief is to find all the areas of Kathy's life that I can continue. I'm honored that I've been selected to be on the Board of Trustees for the Fair Housing Council. I've taken over the editing of the neighborhood newsletter, something she had done for 25 years. I feel connected to her when I do the newsletter. And I'm very active in the church that both of us belonged to. I feel like I'm carrying on the kind of work she would have done if she were still alive.

Those involvements in the community keep me going. I've been blessed by a tremendous support system because the church and neighborhood rallied around me. I can't picture pulling up roots from this home and neighborhood.

It's both a source of joy and pain for me to drive around the city and see these things-the Housing Council Office, the Memorial site, our neighborhood garden. We have a vegetable garden that the neighborhood works on together. Nearby there's a flower garden in memory of Kathy. Every time I see it, I'm reminded of her.

The Memorial Foundation made seedlings from the survivor elm available to survivors and families. I got a seedling and planted it in our front yard, and I used part of Kathy's ashes to plant the tree. We also planted a Bradford pear, one of Kathy's favorite trees, in a city park near a tree planted for her friend Susan, and we scattered ashes at the base. The Bradford pear tree blooms right around the time of the year that Kathy died.

About 75 people came to plant the tree in the park. We had a very good ceremony. Then we all went to the church and had a dinner together. Many people spoke about Kathy, telling their connections to her. All of that's been therapy for me.

I think I'm pretty damn resilient. My daughter knows that and doesn't worry about me much. My son worries because he thinks I cry too much. But tears are my way of venting; I feel a release when I cry. I probably cry more than the average male, but that doesn't bother me. I do think my better friends are female because women are so much better at dealing with feelings. The men I know who have suffered the loss of loved ones tend to stuff it. They think it's a sign of weakness to cry or even show sadness.

I've had to resist people defining me by my grief or my adversity. Not only did Kathy die, but I had a bad bicycle accident. Then Peggy, a woman with whom I had established an important relationship, died of a brain aneurysm. When I came to church after this, a member said, "My God, what's next?" I have to resist that; I don't like being the person who's had two women die and a bad accident. I'm much more than that! And I don't believe I'm star-crossed. I really think I'm gifted by being surrounded by good things and people.

I am angry at Tim McVeigh because he made the last three years of Kathy's life so miserable. She could have survived without his act. I think it would be more painful if the perpetrators were not brought to justice, so it gives me some peace of mind to know that those two men are not going to be able to repeat what they did. But I am against the death penalty, and I do not approve of killing Tim McVeigh. Transcending to me means moving on. Kathy would want me to. I know that, and I'm doing that.