July 24, 2008 (Thursday)
I recall fire drills several times a year at every public school I attended. The unexpected bell would suddenly ring, and we lined up according to plan, and exited the school building in an orderly fashion. After a few minutes outside, we re-entered the building, also in an orderly way.
The school buildings were equipped with escape slides, but not once do I recall one ever being used in a fire drill.
I do, however, recall using the slides early in the morning before classes started. Of course, sliding on the fire escapes was forbidden, and punishable, but all I remember as a response when caught was a warning: “Don’t do that!” But we always did it again sooner or later. Why? It was fun!
At Sherman Elementary, where Troy and I attended the 5th and 6th grades, the huge slide at the rear of the building went from the third floor to the ground, leveling out at the second floor for a few feet. I don’t recall if Troy ever slid down the fire escape, but I tried it a few times. The only way to reach the top was to climb up the slide. Once at the top, down the boy (never saw a girl do it) came. To make it even more exciting, some of us would unwrap our sack lunch sandwiches and use the waxed paper as an accelerant. Boy, it worked great. But when we got to the level part at the second floor level, the horizontal ride continued for a few feet in midair until we dropped back down on the slide again. Stupid? Yes! Scary? The first time, yes. Scary enough to make us quit? ‘Fraid not.
They say confession is good for the soul, so I confess I set a bad example by doing that. Some mothers will be unhappy with me for telling about it, but the chances of a child or young person reading this blog are zero. Besides, I haven’t seen a slide on a building in years and years. And, if it will help your feelings about my setting a bad example, as a kid in my eighth decade of life, I promise not to do it again. Really. I could still slide down, but how would I get up there?