Storytime: What's Important After A Bomb Scare

Seeing the recent posts about the Circuit Assemblies and their inevitable deficits took me down memory lane.

Right at the end of the Sunday afternoon session, the assembly was suddenly interrupted with an announcement. We were told that we had received a bomb threat, and that we had two minutes to evacuate the building before the bombs would go off. We were asked to quickly gather our belongings and go into the parking lot as calmly and orderly as we could.

There were audible gasps followed by worried murmurs, but we all did as we were told. I helped panicked older sisters up the ramps while their fragile knuckles turned white gripping their canes. Their pain in having to rush was palpable. Parents struggled to herd their toddlers to safety while stooped under the weight of cumbersome bags and crying babies. I remember the tension of the invisible clock ticking, wondering if two minutes had gone by yet, and thinking that I was pretty much guaranteed a resurrection if I was blown to smithereens attending an assembly.

Nothing blew up, and I hope that whoever made that phone call was found and punished. It was a very cruel thing to do to us.

At the next meeting, we had a letter read from the higher ups in the organization. Did our loving shepherds offer us any emotional or psychological support after the frightening experience we'd all just had at their event?

Nope. We were commended for our orderly conduct during the evacuation. Then we were told that many people wait until the end of the Sunday session to give their contribution. As we had to rush out of the building, many people missed their opportunity to donate, and we had a deficit. However, the organization had kindly made arrangments to collect those missed donations at the end of the meeting.

I felt so skinned and thrown about. It's always just been about the money.