CAROLINA ABROAD: NAIROBI
Copy Of Christopher Huskey's e-mail to President Clinton on Aug. 8:
Dear Presadant Clinton,
I am 8 years old. I was in the Nairobi Embassy when it blew up yester-
day. Everything was fine and then my Mom heard a sound and said what
was that, it sounded like a bomb and it was a small bomb. Two seconds
later a much bigger bomb blew up the embassy. The lights went off and
pieces of cement started falling off of the ceiling. There was a couch
near the door and the bomb made it go in front of the door and we had
to climb over it. It was very dark. There was glass all over the floor and
pieces of cement. My mom said hold my hand and stay near me and
helped us out. She saw a lady that was hurt and told the doctor who was
right behind us. There was the stairs next to the door and a door that
had been next to the back door of the embassy had been blown off, so
we had to figure out which one was the way out. It was all dusty inside
and the door had been about two inches thick and now the top of it was
blown off and it wasn't even a centameter thick. My mom knew that it
was straight, the door. So she called everybody this is the door. So we all
went in there and I had thought that that was the door becase I had
seen the paper cup machine and I knew it was straight from the paper
cup machine. A car was broken and all the paint had come off the inside
of the embassy. And we saw light. So we went that way and we got out.
There was fire all over the parking lot and all the cars were burning,
including ours. So we ran inside the embassy fence. We saw our dad outside the embassy fence and there were some other people with him and
they helped me and my sister climb over the fence. There were a lot of
other people with my mom still behind the fence. So people inside and
outside the fence were pulling the bars open. Then I saw lots of people
come out of the front door with bloody faces and blood all over them,
even a Marine. So, my dad helped us find a van to drive us home, then
he went back to help the other people.
My next door neighbor's driver was just pulling open the embassy door
when it it exploded. When he got home and we were home, he told us
that some people had come in a car and said let us in and the guard
They put a gun to his head, so he let them in. They put the bomb in the
parking lot, and the guard called the marine on the radio but it was too
late. And the embassy blew up.
Please ask the presidents of the countries who did this. Please arrest
all the people who did this.
Please make all the embassies safe.
Thank you ,
raciler be wim them man in any meeting. A
military attache was speaking about a joint
U .S.-Kenya military exercise scheduled on
the coast in late August, which the
ambassador and I would fly down to observe. A
loud bang. The attache stopped, "That
sounded like a grenade." Then he continued.
Nine seconds later the embassy exploded.
We were thrown to the floor, furniture
tossed about, all windows blown away,
ceiling caved in. We stood and staggered to
the door into the central foyer of the build-
ing by the elevators. It was in shambles. I
knew then that it had been one, a bomb,
and two, at the back of the building.
I ran to the stairwell and scrambled
down the rubble remnant of steps.
Reaching the fourth floor I met dazed
colleagues pouring into the stairwell. There
was no panic, and everyone helped each
other. Many were badly injured and bleed-
ing. Third floor, and the blackness turned
to daylight. The walls had been blown
away. Second floor, completely wiped
out, nothing left standing, all in smimereens
of rubble. Then I knew the third fact:
The bomb epicenter had been at the
bottom of the building. The medical unit
stood at the bottom of the stairs I was
crawling down. The world closed in, for
it seemed inconceivable that a human
being could have survived at the bottom.
I could not get wough from me ground
floor into the basement because of the
rubble in the stairwell. So, I ran stumbling
out the front of the building, down its
long, devastated front and rounded the
corner toward the back. There was a
wall of flames; the back parking lot had
been incinerated. I stopped. There was
nowhere to go, just flames. "Oh, my
God. Oh, my God." Standing there.
Then a tiny, soot-covered figurine wearing a dress came running around the back
corner of the building- straight out of
the flames, it appeared to me-shouting,
"Daddy, Daddy!" It was Caroline. Then
a slightly bigger figure, also screanling,
"Daddy, Daddy!" Christopher. And right
behind them, a woman, "Jim, Jim!"
We were all crying as we embraced
through the iron bar fence.
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