dcnovice
Posts: 37282
Joined: 8/2/2006
Status: offline
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Dear Ones ---
The trouble with my last letter, I realized even as I wrote it, was it that it left my kind readers and me with no place to go but down. And tumble down I did. But first a dispatch from more joyous terrain.
Easter was glorious. Thanks to a lift from a kind friend, I made it to church, where I was treated to a magnificent service and a welcome warm enough for the Prodigal Son. I even got asked a Woodrow Wilson question over coffee.  Later that afternoon, I headed to Maryland for a wonderful lamb dinner with beloved cousins. My Easter baskets were a great hit, and I think they brought real joy. All in all, a lovely day.
Monday morning, I headed eagerly to my first true acupuncture appointment. After a lengthy intake process, we settled down to business, and I did my porcupine imitation. It went well but didn’t, alas, produce the quick lift I’d enjoyed before. I grabbed lunch, then hit the office. It was an uneventful afternoon, which I largely spent struggling to find just the right words about coral research.
Then, at 5:17, came that sound. It was the noise I’d expect gunfire to make, but this was a lovely Easter Monday in a good neighborhood. Must have been a car having trouble. But why were people, whom I could see from my desk, fleeing up the street? And sirens shrieking? Dear God, maybe it was a gun. It was, I learned later.
I tried to settle back to work, but that proved futile. I headed to the men’s room, where I met a custodian who urged me to remain there. The police, he explained, were all over the building, guns drawn, looking for someone. As we waited, the door burst open—forgive the cliché—and a voice yelled “Police!” In came an officer. I can’t remember if he had a gun. He looked the janitor and me over a bit, then headed out. I don’t recall his saying anything.
I lingered a while longer after that, but was bored and frustrated with not knowing anything. I slipped out gingerly and headed into the dark hallway. I knocked on the door of the one office whose lights were on, but got no answer. So I went back to my desk.
Both my office email and the Post offered no info, so I texted a colleague. My office phone rang immediately. It was a mutual friend, saying that I should lock the office door, douse the lights, and stay put. I did, but both words (about coral) and facts (about what had happened) were elusive. I finally resorted to tidying my workspace. At last, at about six, came the news that it was safe to go. I went.
At the time, I thought I’d taken things well, but Monday night and all day Tuesday, I realized I was pretty shaken. Somehow the fact that I’d actually heard someone get shot really spooked me. (It turned out to be two someones, injured but not killed.) I know I’ve led a sheltered life, but the moments of discovering just how sheltered remain disquieting. I haven’t made it back to the office since (partly because I also had some ostomy issues and brutal fatigue).
Tomorrow, after a trip to the ostomy clinic, I’ll return to desk and duty—and the hope of, yes, a nice dull day.
As ever, thanks for e-listening.
Cheers,
DC
_____________________________
No matter how cynical you become,
it's never enough to keep up.
JANE WAGNER, THE SEARCH FOR SIGNS OF
INTELLIGENT LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE
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