In today’s episode, we journey back to my childhood as I recount a traumatic experience involving a bomb. I explored the questions I didn’t ask as a 7-year-old but finally sought answers many years later. We’ll also look into the power of withholding judgment, a lesson that ultimately saved two teenagers from making a life-altering mistake.Got a story to share, a question, or a topic suggestion for a future episode? Reach out to me at DancingWithDepression@yahoo.com.Dancing With Depression is part of QuietLoud Studios. A podcast network where reflection and voice come together.Learn more: https://quietloudstudios.com/Need assistance with your podcast? Connect with KazCM. They make content creation enjoyable and accessible.Learn more: https://kazcm.com/--More about this episode "Childhood Under Siege: A 7-Year-Old's Memory of a Bomb Threat":Do you ever question where your depression comes from?I often wonder if it was my overall upbringing or if the situation could be the reason for years of depression. Seeing as how I’m NOT a doctor…I don’t know the answer to that question, but it has led me to think back on my childhood to see if I could identify a specific incident or a pattern of incidents that might have contributed to my current mental health.This one takes us back to the 80s when I was just a young boy. My brother, father & I were attending the High Holiday Services at my grandfather's Temple in West Hartford, CT. I won’t pretend to “love” spending 6 hours in prayer, but I loved being with my Poppa, Dad & brother. The morning was like many others: my brother & I fighting to wake up…we weren’t, & 40 years later, we still aren’t morning people! Yet we battled through our sleep deprivation and managed to get ourselves dressed. We arrived at the temple & proceeded to the front pew, where we sat with my Poppa. The service started as well as “The Countdown”…over the next 6 hours the question “How much longer before we can leave?” would be asked at least a ½ dozen times…c’mon we were 7 & 9 years old! For the most part things were normal, then one sentence later EVERYTHING changed. My dad leaned over to instruct my brother & I what to do should the door located directly in front of us open. I remember thinking to myself “that door leads outside?” – I always thought it was just a broom closet - My dad, in a calm but assertive tone, instructed us what we were to do should someone open that door…you are to both get on the ground and pretend to be dead. At the time I didn’t think anything of it, and went on with what I usually did – sit there and wonder when we were going to be done so we could go play with our cousins! The 6 hours had come & gone and we were headed back to my Nona & Poppa’s house where our cousins would join us…there would be basketball, swimming, food & most definitely laughter. However, on the ride home I did have a 7 years old curiosity moment & asked “Dad why did you tell us to lay on the ground & act dead should someone walk through the door at the front of the synogage?” It was as if he was waiting for the question all morning & had prepared what he was going to say. Yet it was so simple, “There was a bomb threat at the temple!” – That was it & for a 7 year old…that was all I needed at that time. As time went on I needed more of an understanding as to why someone would want to blow up a building with people in it…but I also had questions for my Dad:When did you know about the bomb threat? If you knew about the threat before we went, why would you take your children?Did MOM KNOW ABOUT THE POTENTIAL THREAT?Were you scared?Why would a bomb threat lead you to think there could be an active shooter?As I was reflecting back to that day, I noticed a pattern:- in the 6th grade kids didn’t want to be my friend because they were afraid they would be killed in the bomb attack- years later as we pulled up to the synagogue, we saw the building vandalized with swastikas. The vandals were identified, and my father was contacted by the police to determine if he was going to charge the 2 teenagers with a hate crime. When my father learned how the boys were identified & their age, he requested to meet with the boys 1st then make a decision if a hate crime charge should be filed. One of the boys had been having nightmares about the incident, & his mother “turned him in”! My father asked to meet the boys, at their house with their parents in attendance. My father asked the boys a few questions like “do you know what the swastika represents & why it is hurtful?” The boys looked confused and one finally mustered up the courage to speak – He said “Honestly I don’t know what it means…” My father, believing him, turned to me & asked me how I “FELT” when we pulled up to the synagogue and saw the swastikas on the building! I shared that I was terrified. My father asked ...
