Fashion designer Linda Rowe Thomas remembers playing "dress-up" on November 26, 1971. Linda was two years old, her sister was six. Shortly after she put on a fur coat, a kerosene heater exploded in her Douglasville, Texas home.
For K-9 handler Wilma Melville and her dog Murphy, the aftermath of the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing was a frantic blur: the choking dust, the mountains of debris and the anguish of knowing people buried alive were praying to be found before time ran out.
The nurses at Boston's Brigham and Women's Hospital watched anxiously as their New York counterparts struggled with overwhelming torrents of patients. The Big Apple had just become the country's epicenter for the coronavirus pandemic.