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.
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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 me why I was terrified - so I continued, “Because a few years ago we went to temple during the High Holidays and there was a bomb threat…all I could think about was if this was another situation where I could die! The boys & I started to ball our eyes out…
That was enough for my father to know they just made a bad decision…my father – the educator – saw this as an opportunity to teach. He asked that the boys remove the spray painted swastikas from the temple and write an essay to be shared with the boys classmates on why this was wrong. So was the lesson learned…in many cases we don’t know, but in this one I think we can chalk it up as a LESSON LEARNED. How? Well the temple was holding a fundraiser (which my father & I can’t remember what specifically it was for) and the 1st donation came in the form of a check from the Mother & Son!
I don’t believe that ONE isolated bomb threat is the reason that 40 years later I don’t sit with my back to a door, however I do believe a series of events contributed to my anxiety. As I grew older, my anxiety began to manifest in various ways. Crowded places became overwhelming; trust in the world around me waned. It wasn’t until therapy that I started tracing back these emotions to that fateful day at the synagogue.
It has been a journey of self-discovery, a dance with my own demons. The support of loved ones was crucial, and learning to validate my own emotions was a pivotal step. With guidance of therapy, I gradually exposed myself to triggers, rewiring my thought patterns and reclaiming my sense of control.
To those dancing alongside their own demons, I would say: You’re NOT alone. Seek support, be it through therapy or the embrace of understanding friends and family. Know that healing takes time, and it’s okay to stumble along the way. Embrace each step, each misstep, as part of your unique dance.
I hope today’s episode has inspired you to step into your own power and embrace the driver’s seat of your life’s journey. Remember, life doesn’t just happen to us – we can shape our path, make bold decisions, and navigate the twists and turns. So, as you go about your day, don’t forget to seize those opportunities, make those choices, and always remember to TAKE THE LEAD.
What is Dancing With Depression?
Welcome to Dancing With Depression. This is a podcast dedicated to opening up the conversation about mental health, focusing specifically on depression. I was diagnosed with depression in 2015.
I've realized how crucial it is to talk openly about this topic, breaking its stigma. Like taboo subjects such as income, politics, or religion, depression should not be off-limits.
Through sharing my journey, from my upbringing to my personal experiences and moments of vulnerability, I aim to convey that it's okay to feel this way. We are not alone, and most importantly, we did nothing wrong. Depression doesn't confine itself to a specific upbringing, socio-economic status, or background. I hope my stories encourage others to share their own experiences, highlighting how depression affects not just individuals but their loved ones as well.
Every day with depression is different for me. Some days, it's a mild waltz; other days, it can start with a tap dance, shift into a Salsa, and by noon, I’m a Ballet dancer – leaping, bending, lifting (the weight of my depression), and balancing myself on the tips of my toes all while spinning rapidly.
I invite you to join me as we navigate the complex dance with depression together, all while striving to Take The Lead!