My phone rang around 9:30. I’d just dropped off Avery at school and had gone to the car dealership to get my oil changed quickly before returning to Avery’s school to accompany her on a field trip to the pumpkin patch.
“A bomb threat has been reported and all schools are on lockdown,” the voice recording said on the other end of the line. I hung up the phone before the recording stopped.
“Not a big deal,” I thought to myself. “Just a threat.”
I sat there with my computer open, texting fellow school parents to see if they knew anything. They knew nothing other than what the automated message said. I didn’t know what to do. The follow-up email asked for parents not to go to the school to pick up their child.
My child is potentially in danger, yet there is nothing I can do to protect her. Just as that thought crossed my mind, I see the breaking news on the television in the car dealership. According to the news, someone called several schools saying they were on their way with a gun and had several bombs scattered throughout the school.
This was my worst nightmare and I was currently living it.
So many thoughts ran through my head. Does Harlan know what’s going on? Is she okay? When will we hear more information? My God, why can’t I pick her up?
I got in my car and started driving. My first thought was to go to Avery’s school and wait in the parking lot for her field trip to begin so I could have her safe in my arms. That’s when I got the email from her school saying they were on lockdown as well and the field trip was cancelled.
I ended up in a parking lot. Tears ran down my face and I was shaking uncontrollably. Both of my girls were locked in a school with threats and I could not do anything to protect them. I was helpless.
More calls and emails came in. The school did a great job of keeping us informed, but unfortunately there was just not much information to give us. They set up a hub in our town that parents could go to with more questions. The district was working on getting buses ready so that they could evacuate the students. They were doing whatever they could to keep our children safe and for that, I am grateful. But the feeling of defeat stayed with me as I was unable to physically do anything to help them.
I drove to Avery’s school and knocked on the door. Her school is technically not a part of the district, but they follow all protocols that our school district does, so they didn’t want parents to come until the police had done a quick run through the school.
I knocked on the door with tears streaming down my face. The director of the school answered the door.
“Is it okay to get her?” I asked
“I would never tell a parent that they can’t pick up their child, no matter what the district says,” she answered.
I walked to Avery’s classroom and knocked on the door. The teacher quickly got Avery and came to the door. Poor A had no idea what was going on or why I was there so early. The teacher told her that because “the tractor was broken at the pumpkin patch” they had to wait to go on their field trip on Monday. I was so thankful for that quick thinking because I hadn’t even thought of what to tell her for why they weren’t going.
I picked Avery up, held her tight as we walked back to our car. One down, one to go.
I had no idea where I was headed to next. I had to keep a strong face for Avery. I wanted her to feel safe and secure, no matter what madness was going on in our town.
We drove around for a little bit and by this time, my dear friend, Roo, who lives just a few towns away had texted me and told me she was on her way. No matter how many times I’d told her I would be fine, she refused to believe it and said she was coming for me. The truth was, I was a mess, and I needed someone. So thankful that she sensed that and came right over.
I did some things to keep my mind busy while I was waiting for the news that I could pick Harlan up from school. And finally, five hours after that first phone call, I had her in my arms. The school was surrounded with police officers while parents everywhere hugged their children with relief. I could finally breathe again.
That night, I told Harlan she could sleep with us in our bed. I needed her close. She still had no idea what had gone on that day. She told me that they just had a “very long lockdown drill.” I didn’t tell her otherwise.
I hate to admit this, but I’d be lying if I told you that there wasn’t a day that goes by when I drop Harlan off at school and wonder, what if. It’s a horrible thought that would even enter my mind, but the truth of the matter is that the world that we live in now is so corrupt that these things are now the norm in our society. All of these parents that thought it could never happen to them, are now living a nightmare. Hate knows no boundaries.
It’s sad that I have to feel uneasy about dropping my daughter off at school every morning. A place that is supposed to be a safe haven for kids is now one that has become a crime scene around many parts in our country.
I lived through hell on Friday. The scariest day of my life. My day had a happy ending. Many aren’t as lucky. And that’s not okay.
