Ah, but you say, this bomb was badly made, badly planted, and didn't do anything but rock the pictures on the wall. This is easy to say if you don't have to go back to work in that building tomorrow. A few years ago, I went to Spokane to talk to people about a bomb that might have killed or wounded hundreds of people in a Martin Luther King Day parade, had it not been discovered by some sharp-eyed public employees cleaning a park, and defused by some very brave public employees in uniform. There is one thing I learned. In many real ways, the bomb always goes off.

"We just forget about it, that's what we always do," says Happy Watkins. "Somehow, we have to keep the light burning. I hate - hate with all my passion - that word tolerance. We should 'tolerate' each other. That drives me nuts. What if we could respect each other? We just got to band together and find how we can help each other when these incidents come. We don't need sympathy. We just need to band together - the CEO and the washroom attendant got to come together and help each other."