OT - Story: The Bomb Threat (not a fun story)

I was a teenager back in the 1970's, and vividly remember 1974, when
Judge Garrity desegregated the Boston schools. There were riots over
forced busing, lots of violence, rocks thrown at school buses full of
children, and a lot of ugly things that made Boston look like
Mississippi. (Nothing against Mississippi, but we have similar
records for race relations in the public schools)

The upshot was that I grew accustomed to schools having daily bomb
scares, and police officers in riot gear in the hallways; even though
we lived in an adjoining suburb, not Boston proper. (Where do you
think all the "white flight" went to?) Boston's schools never did
achieve racial equality, because when the white families discovered
that they couldn't win in the courts, they simply moved or pulled
their children from the public schools. It's an ugly and shameful
chapter in the place that I love.

On Wednesday, Amanda came home with a note that said there had been a
bomb threat scrawled on the wall of one of the boys' restrooms, the
school and police had deemed it as "non-credible," and that school
would be open on Thursday. I read it as a CYA note, and paid little
attention to it. Manda was freaked, and begged me to let her stay
home, in case someone decided to blow up the school.

I explained that keeping people home was just what the note writer
wanted, and it was more of an expression of power from a sick mind
than anything else. I told her that if it would make her more
comfortable, I'd be happy to go to school with her, that's how
confident I was that it was only a prank and nothing more. Manda
declined (surprise, surprise), and I assured her that Bob and I would
discuss the matter thoroughly when he got home from work.

When Bob got in that night, I gave him the note, and we talked. He
is much more protective than I am, yet he felt the same as I did.
This was a prank from some kid who probably wanted to get out of a
test or something, and that the odds of it being realwere practically
nil. He also told me that this note explained why he saw police from
our town and Boston all around the school when he had driven by on
the way home. (I was quite sure that the school would have had bomb
sniffing dogs and locker checks overnight, though Manda and I didn't
talk about it)

So, Manda, nervous and paler than usual, went to school on Thursday.
About half the student body used the bomb threat as a reason to stay
home (on top of about 3/4 of the kids skipping school on Tuesday to
see the Super Bowl celebration parade). School went on as usual, no
bomb, obviously. The teachers actually assigned more work than
usual, to send a message to the ones who didn't show up - they're
going to have a ton of make up work.

The only really scary thing was that the school went over "lock down"
drills with the kids again. If there are four bells in a row, the
school is in "lock down." the kids are to go into the nearest
classroom, the doors will be locked, windows shut and the blinds
drawn. All the kids will be instructed to sit on the floor until the
lock down situation is under control. Now, that's scary enough, but
here's the boneheaded part: the signal for a janitor to call the
front office is _three_ bells. You had scared kids counting bells
all day, praying that the third bell wouldn't be followed by a fourth
one. I suspect that despite the teacher's efforts, there wasn't a
lot of learning taking place on Thursday.

Manda came home Thursday afternoon, and we talked. I told her about
the literally hundreds of bomb threats I'd lived through, and that
they had all amounted to nothing. There were even a few in the
building where I worked when I was pregnant. We decided as long as
there are nut cases and phones, there would be such scares.

We decided that there was a lot more danger from instances like
Columbine High School, where a group of disgruntled nuts kept their
plans quiet until they areready to hurt other people. Right now,
there are a couple of kids from a nearby (very wealthy) town, cooling
their heels in jail, because they had been plotting such an attack.
These kids had gone far enough to make their own explosives and were
testing them in the woods near their homes. Thank God one of them
lost their nerve and reported the plans to the school. Predictably,
the parents of the boys are pointing fingers at everyone but
themselves and their kids.

Anyway, after all that talking, we decided that this was a situation
I wished Manda wouldn't have to get used to, but that it was a fact
of life in the times we live in. We hate it, but there's not much
you can do. The best way to avoid such situations was for the
schools to make sure that everyone felt included as part of the
school "family", and that there would be no tolerance for bullying by
anyone. Things that took place at Manda's middle school, but are not
happening at the high school. We lamented the fact that the
principal at the middle school wasn't promoted to the high school.
This new principal is from a different middle school, and has more
seniority. He isn't anywhere near as good at running an urban school
with urban problems, though - his middle school was in the wealthiest
part of town, and was the magnet for all the gifted kids. He just
doesn't have the experience necessary to handle this place, and the
other guy, although much younger, would have been a better choice.

I thought the whole episode was over, and had been a learning
opportunity. One I'd rather have never taken place, but an
opportunity to talk about life in the real world, nonetheless. Bob
agreed with me, and over dinner, we talked about the upcoming trip to
Spain, and the security measures for that. That bad people are a sad
fact of life, but we deal the best we can and try ot to let them run
our lives. End of story.

Well, no. Bob took Manda to school on Friday morning, and offered me
breakfast when he returned. I decided against breakfast, preferring
my usual: a huge number of pills and a Diet Coke. Yummmm. (not)

Then the phone rang. It was Manda, and she was standing in the
street outside the school. A bomb had been found in a secluded
hallway, and that the school had been evacuated. No one was hurt,
but school was closed for the day. Could we come get her, and was it
okay if she let other kids use her cell phone to call home? (yes on
both counts) Bob's eggs congealed on a cold stove burner while he
dashed down to the school in the truck. He brought home as many kids
as the SUV could safely hold, and returned home.

First thing that happened was Bob handed Manda a dollar: they had
bet I would be crying, and I wasn't. (Actually, I had the cable
channel on that broadcasts the police radio transmissions.
Ominously, a lot of the conversations were beeped out.) Then I
hugged my tall daughter, relieved that nothing had happened to her.

We turned on the news, and followed the story all day long.
Apparently, a janitor had found a suspicious looking item in a
secluded hallway, fortunately, in an area where it would have done
little damage had it exploded. The item turned out to be a grenade,
and the Boston Bomb Squad removed it to detonate it on a nearby
uninhabited island. Fortunately, the grenade was either a fake or a
dud - stories differ on that part.

The principal is in deep doo-doo for some improper remarks and how he
handled the situation in general. (he told the kids that they were
getting the rest of the day off without saying why, and then freaked
out on them when they cheered. He also didn't follow the "lock down"
procedure, but simply announced that there was an assembly in the
auditorium. Smooth move - if I were a bad guy, getting everyone into
the same room would make me very happy indeed.

Anyway, the police have been tearing the school apart, and will
continue to do so all weekend. There will be school on Monday
morning. Manda's math teacher, true to form, grabbed his students on
the way out of the building and handed out assignments to do over the
weekend. :-)

It stinks that my kid has to learn about the real world and the bad
people that sometimes inhabit it. But I'm proud of the way she
handled it - sharing her cell phone, handing out tissues and mints to
the kids who were crying in fear, and explaining that these things
are almost always fakes and bids for attention. She even called some
of the more hysterical of her classmates later in the day to make
sure that they were all right.

Still, mature as she can be, she's still a teenager, and was hoping
to get something good out of the whole situation. This afternoon,
after she was done with her calls, she came into the living room,
where I was reading a book. She sat down and said she had something
important to discuss with me. I put down my book and listened.

"Mama, now that we've found out that these bomb threats are real when
it comes to my school, can I take the day off when we hear about
them?" I quickly noticed the sideways look that means Amanda is
testing my mood and hoping to get something out of me. Her father has
the same expression.

She was disappointed, but not surprised when I said, "No dice. We'll
handle this on a case by case basis, and remember, even if that
grenade had gone off, the only place that would have been affected
would have been the gym."

She sighed, which just confirmed that she knew the answer all along.
But she is her mother's daughter, and she had to have the last word:
"What a pity it didn't go off. I'd have been able to skip gym for
the rest of the year."

Kathy N-V

"What a pity it didn't go off. I'd have been able to skip gym for
the rest of the year."


Wrong-o......tell her she'd a-been in her gym outfit doing laps outside
the building and around the ruins all year long. And I have YET to see
a gym uniform I'd want to be seen outside in any longer than absolutely
neccessary.

I scrapbook things that are parts of my life, and one of my books is a
book where I keep thoughts and images of my "world" as it pertains to
me, rather than a keepsake of family events. It's a "Book of Me".

One page in this book of "me" is a notice sent home by my 3rd grade
daughter's principal, explaining that the school had been in lock down
(yes, they do drills, starting with the kindergarten) for the day, due
to the fact that a man with a gun had broken into a home bordering the
school, and had roamed the neighborhood whilst police searched for him.
The police notified the school at once, and *poof*, it was lock down time.

I am so sad that my daughter has to be aware at such an early age that
there are such imminent dangers out there, and right here. I remember
being horrified by the earthquake drills, the danger being that of
Mother Nature herself. How awful that the danger should be coming from
Mankind. *sigh*

--
The Blessed Fiddy, Patroness Saint of the Disorganized
LC in Sunny So Cal
Personality Development Specialist (Full-Time Mom!)

First - WOW.
but yes, these "bomb threats" are a fact of life.
Tell her we even evacuate MY building - on a secure federal
installation - at least twice a year....
sigh. It is why they took my nice, handy Post Office out of our
building.... sigh..... too many "suspicious package" alerts.

" But she is her mother's daughter, and she had to have the last word:
"What a pity it didn't go off. I'd have been able to skip gym for the
rest of the year."

HAH!!!!!
good line...

Cheryl

I guess growing up in a small town where everyone is your cousin doesn't
seem so bad now. The only thing we feared was tornados and those didn't
happen all that often.

Give Manda a big hug for me. I'm proud of how she handled herself.

--
Starlia Klopman
www.klopmanstudios.com


"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
. giganews.com...
I was a teenager back in the 1970's, and vividly remember 1974, when
Judge Garrity desegregated the Boston schools. There were riots over
forced busing, lots of violence, rocks thrown at school buses full of
children, and a lot of ugly things that made Boston look like
Mississippi. (Nothing against Mississippi, but we have similar
records for race relations in the public schools)

The upshot was that I grew accustomed to schools having daily bomb
scares, and police officers in riot gear in the hallways; even though
we lived in an adjoining suburb, not Boston proper. (Where do you
think all the "white flight" went to?) Boston's schools never did
achieve racial equality, because when the white families discovered
that they couldn't win in the courts, they simply moved or pulled
their children from the public schools. It's an ugly and shameful
chapter in the place that I love.

On Wednesday, Amanda came home with a note that said there had been a
bomb threat scrawled on the wall of one of the boys' restrooms, the
school and police had deemed it as "non-credible," and that school
would be open on Thursday. I read it as a CYA note, and paid little
attention to it. Manda was freaked, and begged me to let her stay
home, in case someone decided to blow up the school.

I explained that keeping people home was just what the note writer
wanted, and it was more of an expression of power from a sick mind
than anything else. I told her that if it would make her more
comfortable, I'd be happy to go to school with her, that's how
confident I was that it was only a prank and nothing more. Manda
declined (surprise, surprise), and I assured her that Bob and I would
discuss the matter thoroughly when he got home from work.

When Bob got in that night, I gave him the note, and we talked. He
is much more protective than I am, yet he felt the same as I did.
This was a prank from some kid who probably wanted to get out of a
test or something, and that the odds of it being realwere practically
nil. He also told me that this note explained why he saw police from
our town and Boston all around the school when he had driven by on
the way home. (I was quite sure that the school would have had bomb
sniffing dogs and locker checks overnight, though Manda and I didn't
talk about it)

So, Manda, nervous and paler than usual, went to school on Thursday.
About half the student body used the bomb threat as a reason to stay
home (on top of about 3/4 of the kids skipping school on Tuesday to
see the Super Bowl celebration parade). School went on as usual, no
bomb, obviously. The teachers actually assigned more work than
usual, to send a message to the ones who didn't show up - they're
going to have a ton of make up work.

The only really scary thing was that the school went over "lock down"
drills with the kids again. If there are four bells in a row, the
school is in "lock down." the kids are to go into the nearest
classroom, the doors will be locked, windows shut and the blinds
drawn. All the kids will be instructed to sit on the floor until the
lock down situation is under control. Now, that's scary enough, but
here's the boneheaded part: the signal for a janitor to call the
front office is _three_ bells. You had scared kids counting bells
all day, praying that the third bell wouldn't be followed by a fourth
one. I suspect that despite the teacher's efforts, there wasn't a
lot of learning taking place on Thursday.

Manda came home Thursday afternoon, and we talked. I told her about
the literally hundreds of bomb threats I'd lived through, and that
they had all amounted to nothing. There were even a few in the
building where I worked when I was pregnant. We decided as long as
there are nut cases and phones, there would be such scares.

We decided that there was a lot more danger from instances like
Columbine High School, where a group of disgruntled nuts kept their
plans quiet until they areready to hurt other people. Right now,
there are a couple of kids from a nearby (very wealthy) town, cooling
their heels in jail, because they had been plotting such an attack.
These kids had gone far enough to make their own explosives and were
testing them in the woods near their homes. Thank God one of them
lost their nerve and reported the plans to the school. Predictably,
the parents of the boys are pointing fingers at everyone but
themselves and their kids.

Anyway, after all that talking, we decided that this was a situation
I wished Manda wouldn't have to get used to, but that it was a fact
of life in the times we live in. We hate it, but there's not much
you can do. The best way to avoid such situations was for the
schools to make sure that everyone felt included as part of the
school "family", and that there would be no tolerance for bullying by
anyone. Things that took place at Manda's middle school, but are not
happening at the high school. We lamented the fact that the
principal at the middle school wasn't promoted to the high school.
This new principal is from a different middle school, and has more
seniority. He isn't anywhere near as good at running an urban school
with urban problems, though - his middle school was in the wealthiest
part of town, and was the magnet for all the gifted kids. He just
doesn't have the experience necessary to handle this place, and the
other guy, although much younger, would have been a better choice.

I thought the whole episode was over, and had been a learning
opportunity. One I'd rather have never taken place, but an
opportunity to talk about life in the real world, nonetheless. Bob
agreed with me, and over dinner, we talked about the upcoming trip to
Spain, and the security measures for that. That bad people are a sad
fact of life, but we deal the best we can and try ot to let them run
our lives. End of story.

Well, no. Bob took Manda to school on Friday morning, and offered me
breakfast when he returned. I decided against breakfast, preferring
my usual: a huge number of pills and a Diet Coke. Yummmm. (not)

Then the phone rang. It was Manda, and she was standing in the
street outside the school. A bomb had been found in a secluded
hallway, and that the school had been evacuated. No one was hurt,
but school was closed for the day. Could we come get her, and was it
okay if she let other kids use her cell phone to call home? (yes on
both counts) Bob's eggs congealed on a cold stove burner while he
dashed down to the school in the truck. He brought home as many kids
as the SUV could safely hold, and returned home.

First thing that happened was Bob handed Manda a dollar: they had
bet I would be crying, and I wasn't. (Actually, I had the cable
channel on that broadcasts the police radio transmissions.
Ominously, a lot of the conversations were beeped out.) Then I
hugged my tall daughter, relieved that nothing had happened to her.

We turned on the news, and followed the story all day long.
Apparently, a janitor had found a suspicious looking item in a
secluded hallway, fortunately, in an area where it would have done
little damage had it exploded. The item turned out to be a grenade,
and the Boston Bomb Squad removed it to detonate it on a nearby
uninhabited island. Fortunately, the grenade was either a fake or a
dud - stories differ on that part.

The principal is in deep doo-doo for some improper remarks and how he
handled the situation in general. (he told the kids that they were
getting the rest of the day off without saying why, and then freaked
out on them when they cheered. He also didn't follow the "lock down"
procedure, but simply announced that there was an assembly in the
auditorium. Smooth move - if I were a bad guy, getting everyone into
the same room would make me very happy indeed.

Anyway, the police have been tearing the school apart, and will
continue to do so all weekend. There will be school on Monday
morning. Manda's math teacher, true to form, grabbed his students on
the way out of the building and handed out assignments to do over the
weekend. :-)

It stinks that my kid has to learn about the real world and the bad
people that sometimes inhabit it. But I'm proud of the way she
handled it - sharing her cell phone, handing out tissues and mints to
the kids who were crying in fear, and explaining that these things
are almost always fakes and bids for attention. She even called some
of the more hysterical of her classmates later in the day to make
sure that they were all right.

Still, mature as she can be, she's still a teenager, and was hoping
to get something good out of the whole situation. This afternoon,
after she was done with her calls, she came into the living room,
where I was reading a book. She sat down and said she had something
important to discuss with me. I put down my book and listened.

"Mama, now that we've found out that these bomb threats are real when
it comes to my school, can I take the day off when we hear about
them?" I quickly noticed the sideways look that means Amanda is
testing my mood and hoping to get something out of me. Her father has
the same expression.

She was disappointed, but not surprised when I said, "No dice. We'll
handle this on a case by case basis, and remember, even if that
grenade had gone off, the only place that would have been affected
would have been the gym."

She sighed, which just confirmed that she knew the answer all along.
But she is her mother's daughter, and she had to have the last word:
"What a pity it didn't go off. I'd have been able to skip gym for
the rest of the year."

Kathy N-V

it used to be that way where I live, in a way. Nearly everyone on this
road is related in some way, or grew up together (and in two cases,
went to vietnam and fought together as well). People used to be able to
leave their doors unlocked at night, dogs and cats roamed free, as did
children.

But then my dad came home from work one night at 1:00 AM to find a man
crouching in our driveway, and a lawn chair underneath his and my
mother's bedroom window. We always locked up everything after that.

and a few years later, my sister's ex boyfriend tried to break into the
house. we put screws in the window frames so they couldn't be raised
above a certain height when that happened.

a few years after that, our neighbor shot two other neighbors over a
land dispute (killing one of them), and a dismembered body was found on
my boyfriend's road two years after that happened (his road branches
off of ours).

now, the guy who lives across the street has parties in the summer time
where his friends get drunk and fight in the street at 4:00 AM, leaving
broken beer bottles everywhere, and meth labs have popped up all over
the county, and everyone locks their doors, and animals are kept up
after a few were found killed in horrible ways.

even the small towns are becoming really scary.

-Amber.

On Sat, 12 Feb 2005 6:03:33 -0500, Kathy N-V
wrote:

....

She sighed, which just confirmed that she knew the answer all along.
But she is her mother's daughter, and she had to have the last word:
"What a pity it didn't go off. I'd have been able to skip gym for
the rest of the year."

Kathy N-V



Kathy -

Such an interesting and well written post.

How sad that Manda has had to learn this lesson. But the good news is
- everyone was safe and sound and it was ok.

Back when I enjoyed a social life - I would spend many an evening in
the bars and clubs of London. Bomb threats were a way of life for us
up there.

Someone only had to go to the loo and leave their handbag at the table
and we would get evacuated out. No litter bins anywhere for years, in
case they were used as a receptacle for bombs. It was kinda nice to
see the litter bins come back in a way - although was is? Did it
signal that litter-bin bombs were no longer a huge threat to us? or
that the threat now was so big, litter bins being there or not were
really irrelevant?

To me - My memories of those times were purely of inconvenience. Sick
that nearly every day - our trains would be delayed, we wouldnt be
able to walk certain routes about town because of road blocks, the
constant need to be aware of any left luggage, not simply being able
to pick up a bag and say to the stranger "excuse me - you forgot this"
but having to follow proceedures. Well - that was theory. Mostly it
was judged on a case by case basis also I guess. Did the stranger look
shifty? did the bag look worthy of being a bomb or was it really just
a bag full of someone's elses crap anyway? Important to them but
irrelevant to us.

It is a strange balancing act - and that is the lesson you are
teaching Manda through this. As we all had to in London, as you had to
in Boston - balancing common sense precautions, awareness and taking a
situation seriously, without allowing the terrorism to win. Allowing
it to inconvenience us if it must - that is beyond our control, but
never allowing it to stop us living our lives.

Emma

www.ejrbeads.co.uk

wrote:

....

She sighed, which just confirmed that she knew the answer all along.
But she is her mother's daughter, and she had to have the last word:
"What a pity it didn't go off. I'd have been able to skip gym for
the rest of the year."

Kathy N-V

Not to be a pessimist but... this might have been a good time for her to
learn these things. On any trip to another country you have to be aware
at all times of the possible 'actions' of others. (Spain used to be
known for random acts, though *very* much less so these days.) Now that
she understands how to respond and how to emotionally deal with these
threats it will always be a part of her. I know that is not a good
thing... but yet in a way it is.

When I was living in Dubai and Egypt and, to a lesser degree Guatemala,
it always seemed to be just on the peripheral of my awareness...
noticing and watching and just being aware of surroundings.

The only time there was an actual problem was on leaving Cairo... the
airport was attacked by some faction or other and close to a hundred
travelers were confined to a small waiting room for over 18 hours, for
the first few hours we could hear gunfire and small explosions. The
Egyptian authorities acted as if it was all normal but at 17 I wasn't so
easy going!

Take care and be reassured by the fact that Manda has had the best of Moms!


Polly

Oh my gosh. I'm so glad nothing serious happened. It usually is a prank or
empty threat, but to have found a bomb, I wouldn't want to go back to school
ever.

We had a bomb threat at work a couple years ago. I work in a large medical
building. They evacuated us and were brining in the bomb dog. It took a
while to get the dog to the area (I work in the suburbs of the suburbs of
Seattle, the boonies OK). Before the dog was done, they wanted one of us
from each floor to go back in to look around to see if there was anything
suspicious. Yeah, that didn't happen.

The very next day, at about the same time, we had our biggest Earthquake in
a while. For a second everyone thought it was the bomb. Everyone was scared
and it showed on our faces. Some were laughing, some were crying. We all
evaquated and got to go home while they checked out the building for safety.
So we all went home and watched the hours and hours of TV coverage.

Glad Manda is OK

Lara
--
================================================== ===
Check out my eBay auctions under user ID: lutrick
Or click on the link: http://snipurl.com/8fa3
"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
. giganews.com...
I was a teenager back in the 1970's, and vividly remember 1974, when
Judge Garrity desegregated the Boston schools. There were riots over
forced busing, lots of violence, rocks thrown at school buses full of
children, and a lot of ugly things that made Boston look like
Mississippi. (Nothing against Mississippi, but we have similar
records for race relations in the public schools)

The upshot was that I grew accustomed to schools having daily bomb
scares, and police officers in riot gear in the hallways; even though
we lived in an adjoining suburb, not Boston proper. (Where do you
think all the "white flight" went to?) Boston's schools never did
achieve racial equality, because when the white families discovered
that they couldn't win in the courts, they simply moved or pulled
their children from the public schools. It's an ugly and shameful
chapter in the place that I love.

On Wednesday, Amanda came home with a note that said there had been a
bomb threat scrawled on the wall of one of the boys' restrooms, the
school and police had deemed it as "non-credible," and that school
would be open on Thursday. I read it as a CYA note, and paid little
attention to it. Manda was freaked, and begged me to let her stay
home, in case someone decided to blow up the school.

I explained that keeping people home was just what the note writer
wanted, and it was more of an expression of power from a sick mind
than anything else. I told her that if it would make her more
comfortable, I'd be happy to go to school with her, that's how
confident I was that it was only a prank and nothing more. Manda
declined (surprise, surprise), and I assured her that Bob and I would
discuss the matter thoroughly when he got home from work.

When Bob got in that night, I gave him the note, and we talked. He
is much more protective than I am, yet he felt the same as I did.
This was a prank from some kid who probably wanted to get out of a
test or something, and that the odds of it being realwere practically
nil. He also told me that this note explained why he saw police from
our town and Boston all around the school when he had driven by on
the way home. (I was quite sure that the school would have had bomb
sniffing dogs and locker checks overnight, though Manda and I didn't
talk about it)

So, Manda, nervous and paler than usual, went to school on Thursday.
About half the student body used the bomb threat as a reason to stay
home (on top of about 3/4 of the kids skipping school on Tuesday to
see the Super Bowl celebration parade). School went on as usual, no
bomb, obviously. The teachers actually assigned more work than
usual, to send a message to the ones who didn't show up - they're
going to have a ton of make up work.

The only really scary thing was that the school went over "lock down"
drills with the kids again. If there are four bells in a row, the
school is in "lock down." the kids are to go into the nearest
classroom, the doors will be locked, windows shut and the blinds
drawn. All the kids will be instructed to sit on the floor until the
lock down situation is under control. Now, that's scary enough, but
here's the boneheaded part: the signal for a janitor to call the
front office is _three_ bells. You had scared kids counting bells
all day, praying that the third bell wouldn't be followed by a fourth
one. I suspect that despite the teacher's efforts, there wasn't a
lot of learning taking place on Thursday.

Manda came home Thursday afternoon, and we talked. I told her about
the literally hundreds of bomb threats I'd lived through, and that
they had all amounted to nothing. There were even a few in the
building where I worked when I was pregnant. We decided as long as
there are nut cases and phones, there would be such scares.

We decided that there was a lot more danger from instances like
Columbine High School, where a group of disgruntled nuts kept their
plans quiet until they areready to hurt other people. Right now,
there are a couple of kids from a nearby (very wealthy) town, cooling
their heels in jail, because they had been plotting such an attack.
These kids had gone far enough to make their own explosives and were
testing them in the woods near their homes. Thank God one of them
lost their nerve and reported the plans to the school. Predictably,
the parents of the boys are pointing fingers at everyone but
themselves and their kids.

Anyway, after all that talking, we decided that this was a situation
I wished Manda wouldn't have to get used to, but that it was a fact
of life in the times we live in. We hate it, but there's not much
you can do. The best way to avoid such situations was for the
schools to make sure that everyone felt included as part of the
school "family", and that there would be no tolerance for bullying by
anyone. Things that took place at Manda's middle school, but are not
happening at the high school. We lamented the fact that the
principal at the middle school wasn't promoted to the high school.
This new principal is from a different middle school, and has more
seniority. He isn't anywhere near as good at running an urban school
with urban problems, though - his middle school was in the wealthiest
part of town, and was the magnet for all the gifted kids. He just
doesn't have the experience necessary to handle this place, and the
other guy, although much younger, would have been a better choice.

I thought the whole episode was over, and had been a learning
opportunity. One I'd rather have never taken place, but an
opportunity to talk about life in the real world, nonetheless. Bob
agreed with me, and over dinner, we talked about the upcoming trip to
Spain, and the security measures for that. That bad people are a sad
fact of life, but we deal the best we can and try ot to let them run
our lives. End of story.

Well, no. Bob took Manda to school on Friday morning, and offered me
breakfast when he returned. I decided against breakfast, preferring
my usual: a huge number of pills and a Diet Coke. Yummmm. (not)

Then the phone rang. It was Manda, and she was standing in the
street outside the school. A bomb had been found in a secluded
hallway, and that the school had been evacuated. No one was hurt,
but school was closed for the day. Could we come get her, and was it
okay if she let other kids use her cell phone to call home? (yes on
both counts) Bob's eggs congealed on a cold stove burner while he
dashed down to the school in the truck. He brought home as many kids
as the SUV could safely hold, and returned home.

First thing that happened was Bob handed Manda a dollar: they had
bet I would be crying, and I wasn't. (Actually, I had the cable
channel on that broadcasts the police radio transmissions.
Ominously, a lot of the conversations were beeped out.) Then I
hugged my tall daughter, relieved that nothing had happened to her.

We turned on the news, and followed the story all day long.
Apparently, a janitor had found a suspicious looking item in a
secluded hallway, fortunately, in an area where it would have done
little damage had it exploded. The item turned out to be a grenade,
and the Boston Bomb Squad removed it to detonate it on a nearby
uninhabited island. Fortunately, the grenade was either a fake or a
dud - stories differ on that part.

The principal is in deep doo-doo for some improper remarks and how he
handled the situation in general. (he told the kids that they were
getting the rest of the day off without saying why, and then freaked
out on them when they cheered. He also didn't follow the "lock down"
procedure, but simply announced that there was an assembly in the
auditorium. Smooth move - if I were a bad guy, getting everyone into
the same room would make me very happy indeed.

Anyway, the police have been tearing the school apart, and will
continue to do so all weekend. There will be school on Monday
morning. Manda's math teacher, true to form, grabbed his students on
the way out of the building and handed out assignments to do over the
weekend. :-)

It stinks that my kid has to learn about the real world and the bad
people that sometimes inhabit it. But I'm proud of the way she
handled it - sharing her cell phone, handing out tissues and mints to
the kids who were crying in fear, and explaining that these things
are almost always fakes and bids for attention. She even called some
of the more hysterical of her classmates later in the day to make
sure that they were all right.

Still, mature as she can be, she's still a teenager, and was hoping
to get something good out of the whole situation. This afternoon,
after she was done with her calls, she came into the living room,
where I was reading a book. She sat down and said she had something
important to discuss with me. I put down my book and listened.

"Mama, now that we've found out that these bomb threats are real when
it comes to my school, can I take the day off when we hear about
them?" I quickly noticed the sideways look that means Amanda is
testing my mood and hoping to get something out of me. Her father has
the same expression.

She was disappointed, but not surprised when I said, "No dice. We'll
handle this on a case by case basis, and remember, even if that
grenade had gone off, the only place that would have been affected
would have been the gym."

She sighed, which just confirmed that she knew the answer all along.
But she is her mother's daughter, and she had to have the last word:
"What a pity it didn't go off. I'd have been able to skip gym for
the rest of the year."

Kathy N-V