The statistics around bomb threats rank right up there with The Boy Who Cried Wolf. 90-95% are hoaxes. And yet, even these threats have to be taken seriously when innocent lives are at stake.
That’s how I found myself helping to direct community members out of my workplace — a public library — on an impossibly beautiful spring day. A suspicious call came through to a public desk. The caller spoke through a voice changer and made threats to the building and the people inside. Immediately, staff called 911 to report the threat, and the dispatcher advised that the building be evacuated.
It is startling to hear a disembodied automated voice announce from overhead speakers: “Emergency Alert: Evacuate Immediately.” But that is what happened.
Suddenly interrupted, we all grabbed our belongings that were near us and filed out, quietly at first. Disoriented, we all squinted like newborns, momentarily blinded by the sunlight. Many of us didn’t have our jackets, so we stood in huddles, bracing ourselves against the chilly wind and asking each other what was happening.
I have to admit, I found myself observing the humanness of this event: a group of strangers suddenly thrust together over a shared experience. Folks who would’ve continued their day without speaking to any of these strangers suddenly milled around, checking in, asking each other if they were okay. Police were on site, lending gravity to the situation, but also the sense that the situation was under control. When an emergency arises, don’t we want to be assured that someone is there that knows what to do?
Fred Rogers is often quoted in times of crisis or natural disaster:
“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”
On that spring afternoon, the helpers were out in force. Lawn chairs materialized, maybe out of the trunks of cars in the parking lot, and were offered to strangers needing to rest their feet. Spare sweatshirts and sweaters were pulled out of backpacks and offered to shivering folks. I saw granola bars and bottles of water shared, as well as words of encouragement.
I saw words of gratitude expressed to the police officers, who were incredibly professional throughout. We all seemed to know that this threat very well could be completely fake, perpetrated by some bored mischief-maker with a phone and a voice modifier. As much as we wanted this situation to be a false alarm, it was not lost on us that all this could possibly be an incredibly expensive and disruptive waste of time and resources. After all, that’s what many hoaxes aim to do: cause confusion, disruption, and fear.
At least once a day, I find myself asking, “Is this real?” As Artificial Intelligence gets better at creating believable text, images, and even videos, I’m often checking sources to verify. Most things can be verified in, at most, a few minutes.
On this particular day, though, in order to substantiate the threat to our public building, the verifying required more than an online search to cross-reference. This time, it required a slew of first responders and a highly trained canine, who was brought in to sniff the entire building. It was two and a half hours before we could re-enter the building, once it was determined that there was no actual threat.
I know one thing: A.I. has made me more doubtful of even the things I read, hear, and see with my own eyes. But this doubt that is planted provides a stark contrast to what I know to be real: human, mostly, are good. People want to connect and care for each other. They will check on each other, and offer words of comfort. I have always known this to be true, but I admit I let cynicism creep in from time to time. Sometimes it feels like there are too many people who want to disrupt and cause confusion. Some love chaos and thrive on seeing others disoriented and fearful. But if we listen closely to the wise words of Mr. Rogers’ mother, her words remain. Beneath the racket caused by the rascals and the rogues, the helpers quietly get busy with the task at hand: sharing a sweater or blanket, offering a chair, offering up kind words or a gentle joke to lighten the mood. It is important to notice the helpers. It is our duty to be the helpers when we can. That is what it means to be human. That is true. That is real.
