The year was 1966, I think. The school had some kind of drill going on, but I can’t remember exactly what it was.
We were single filing out the front door across the Great Lawn toward the road. I was observing, to my right, in an intense 16 year old way, how marvelous Jane looked in her tight sweater. What I wasn’t watching was the path ahead of me. While watching Jane, I tripped over a knee high level bush, and did a perfect somersault in the space ahead of me. Hysterical laughter followed. The drill? a failure.
At another drill during the same time frame, a nuclear blast drill, hundreds of students squatted around the perimeter of the auditorium, heads tucked between their legs. This post lunch exercise resulted in massive, loud releases of gas. Teachers yelled-such fools. Another drill failure.
Move back in time to about 1959, a nuclear drill in a third grade classroom. Students were directed to crawl under their 1930’s era desks to keep from getting hit by flying glass. Some, or at least one, (me) got stuck inside the desk bottom. Yet another drill failure.
So the result? Countless students were ill prepared for fire, flood and nuclear conflagration. I stll am.
I’m thinking, from now on, I will go with stop, drop and roll and take my chances.