Another Bomb Scare Shatters Innocence

By Venise Grossmann

A hall aide tipped me off that we were going to evacuate the building due to a bomb scare, so I quickly used the bathroom and grabbed my computer discs and camera.

Although an announcement was made over the intercom in a calm fashion, I couldn't help but feel anxiety. Had such an event happened several years ago, I would have felt that it was just an end of the year prank, but with Columbine and September 11, I now believe that anything is possible-even in a quiet town like West Deptford.

Since it was our second bomb scare this week, the students knew the routine; they quickly and quietly exited the building and made their way toward the football stadium, which had already been checked to ensure our safety.

The day was sunny and warm, but no one-even the students-was happy to be outside, not under these circumstances: we were all engaged in activities and resented the disruption.

While the students filled the stadium, the teachers, staff, and administration positioned themselves in the bleachers, at the foot of the bleachers, and on the field. One thousand of us were there, huddled together, feeling vulnerable.

Despite our anxiety and frustration, the teachers smiled and joked with the students; it was important to maintain an air of normalcy.

As I stood looking up at their faces, I thought what a travesty it was that events such as these had to mar end of the year activities; students should be focused on exams, finishing projects, and making plans for the summer.

What should be an Age of Innocence has become an Age of Terrorism. Although these "victims of the times" seemed to take it in stride, they shouldn't have to.

A very maternal vice principal whom the students admire and trust made the announcement that we would be moving back into the building shortly. The students were not disappointed; like us, they wanted to resume daily activities. I was glad that they were spared seeing the police, firemen, and bomb-sniffing dogs at work. The severity of the situation might have scared them.

As we waited, a student at the top of the stadium blew air bubbles, and they drifted down over the heads of the student body. Other students amused themselves by bobbing a colorful balloon about; other true academics used the time to read. Despite the heinous act, calmness prevailed.

Finally, another vice principal made an announcement that the building was safe and that we would be moving inside. I thought his choice of words interesting: "Follow your teachers; they will lead you."

Once inside, we learned that the guilty party had written a message on a toilet seat, another on a bathroom wall, warning that a bomb would explode at a given time. It made me angry to think that the perpetrator was one of us. Don't we have enough to worry about with foreign terrorists?

We quickly resumed normal activities, lamenting the lost time until 1:30 when the superintendent made a live broadcast over the T.V. system. In a reassuring and determined voice, he said that he would not stop until he had found the offender and that he or she would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law and face an expulsion hearing. The administration offered a reward for any student who provides information that leads to the arrest and conviction for each individual involved. If the problem persists and the disruptions continue, the Board of Education will extend the school year.

I watched the reaction of my students to the superintendent's words. All had listened intently, and nodded their heads, concurring. One student said in disgust, "Whoever did it is so immature. It is just not funny."

And it is not.
There is a misguided soul amongst us and it hurts.