Missile Scare
Dear Editor: This morning I got to put into practice a lot of different trainings. I failed at all.
So, for those of you unaware, Hawaii had quite the scare at 8:08 a.m. Jan. 13 when the Emergency Broadcast System shared, ‘‘BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.’’
Moriah and I were up and slowly getting ready for our day. She had curled her hair the night before and was working on putting in some cute complementing braids when our phones beeped and the message came across.
I’ve gotten used to the warnings. We have bad weather and I appreciate the shares. I read the message, then had to read it again. ‘‘This is not a drill.’’ Moriah and I both looked at each other and I tore out of the bathroom screaming for Eric.
Get everything together. Get ready to move out. Find out where we should go.
Okay, the sad news ... there really aren’t ‘‘fallout shelters.’’ Shelter in place, they say. What? In a building with lots of windows, thin walls and on stilts?
We weren’t prepared. Not enough duct tape. No go-bags for everyone ... including the pets. No plywood to cover the windows.
And ... stress management?! Forget it! I shook as I grabbed a suitcase and threw a few outfits in. I shook as I grabbed towels and toiletries. I shook as I grabbed our lockbox. I shook as I grabbed the phones. We forgot the first aid kit. Gasp!
Moriah grabbed stuff for the pets. I don’t think she shook. She grabbed water for the pets ... none for us. She grabbed one outfit and one rubber band for her hair. She grabbed the pets and shoved them in the car. Peter helped grab the pets ... and was clawed for his desire to save their lives. No good deed goes unpunished.
I think Eric called his girlfriend and texted funny end-of-the-world texts to her and her family.
Sigh. I continued to shake.
So, after 38 minutes ... they sent out an ‘‘Oops!’’ What is weird, I texted my dad and he told me it was a fake. Why did the mainland know before Hawaii residents? Crazy! I continued to shake.
When it was over, I took a hot shower. I got dressed for work. I took my kids to breakfast. I got to work.
I listened to stories from strangers:
‘‘We cried.’’
‘‘My husband called to say his workplace was taking it seriously and he wanted to tell me he was thinking of me and loved me. I texted family. Then I just stared dumbly at my phone in a kitchen full of windows.’’
‘‘I grabbed my kids, arranged to pick up another kid ... then drove to my workplace that was brick. Then I texted my other children who couldn’t get to me before it all ended.’’
The Internet is full of stories. One man put his children into the storm drains in an effort to protect them. Some people ran into parking garages and cried.
This was a morning of trauma and fear. I tried praying. I didn’t succeed well. I thought of family in Alaska, in Nevada and Minnesota. I wanted to cry, but it wasn’t the time. I thought of new babies in Oahu, and I wanted to cry. It still wasn’t a good time. I kept trying to pray. I wasn’t very good.
We debriefed. We have created a plan. We have things to put into action and into practice. This is why EMTs and firefighters practice so much – so you don’t have to think. You just do. You can think later.
So, the big joke – we survived the fake ballistic missile crisis. We are here. We learned lessons. We will be prepared next time: barbecue and liquor for all!
In the meantime, we love you; we miss you. We are glad you are alive and we are alive. We are thankful you are in our lives. You make our lives fuller and richer. Thank you!
Renae Dawn (Vaden) Mathson,
Hawaii
