Reflections regarding Tuesday October 1, 2024 in Caesarea, Israel
It is well known that in American schools our children, teachers, and administrators practice school drills throughout the year. There are fire drills, weather related drills, and sadly an increasing need for lockdown drills due to outside threats. As a former teacher and principal, these drills were also part of my calendar: when to schedule which drill, how to run the drill, who to tell in advance, what to tell parents and the team afterward. The lockdown drills were always the most sensitive for everyone involved.
In Israel, drills focus on rocket drills. We arrived in Israel just as the threat from Iran became imminent. My brother texted me the morning after we arrived in Israel to inform me that the likelihood of an attack that evening was approaching one hundred percent. I quickly updated Chaim and let him know that we would need to speak with the boys. Instead of making it a whole conversation, we decided to run it like a school drill – a concept familiar to them.
Chaim paused his work to join the boys and me in the living room. We reminded them about school drills at home and let them know we would be practicing a new school drill. They shared concerns about how to know when to go to the mamad, an acronym that refers to a personal home bunker, and what to do there. The drill helped assuage the situation. First, we showed them the alert apps we had on our phones so they knew we would stay informed about the situation. Next, we played the siren that blares outside when there is an alert, even though we can’t hear it in the house. We also played the alert noise we might receive on our phones. Then, we walked downstairs to the mamad.
My parents’ mamad is a decent sized space with a bed, desk and plenty of closet space, enough to serve as a private bathroom when peeing into a bottle. After October 7, they reinforced the mamad door per the government’s specifications to prevent forced entry. Because the mamad is intended to be an airtight room, there is an air filtration unit should sealing the door and window be required. We showed them how each aspect worked. We also showed them all of the food and supplies my parents stored in the mamad for potential extended stays. Last, we explained that in Caesarea we have ninety seconds to get to a mamad because that is how long there is before potential impact. We need to stay there for ten minutes because shrapnel from an interception can fall for a full ten minutes anywhere in the affected area. After the “tour” we had them start some screen time and let them know we were going to run a drill some time during their screen time. A few minutes later, we played a siren sound. In all my years in education, it was the smoothest school drill I had ever run. I cannot imagine having to run a drill like this for hundreds of students and my heart goes out to Israel’s teachers who are responsible for doing so.
Later that evening, my brother’s family took a risk driving twenty minutes to Caesarea just to have dinner with us. The goals were to give the cousins a chance to see each other, eat quickly, and get them home before any missiles from Iran arrived. My brother’s family has four children, two girls and two boys, all within the same crazy age range as ours. We are very fortunate. All of our children are great friends and have an amazing time together. The cousin reunion was glorious. Everyone was thrilled to see one another and the crunched time frame made our time together feel even more special.
Just as they opened the door to leave the first siren went off. Everyone rushed down to the mamad. I had been worried about how our boys were going to handle their first alert. We got lucky. Having their cousins with them created a much more joyous situation than normal. Instead of feeling like we were hiding below ground, the kids played games and sang at the top of their lungs “Am Yisrael Chai.” Although I wished we never had to be in this situation in the first place, I could not have asked for a better first experience for our children.
In the end, we stayed in the mamad for about forty minutes before it was safe to leave. My brother’s family made a quick exit to get home before any more missiles arrived.
That night we were relieved and grateful to hear no injuries had been reported.
