The attack that wasn't

Until last week, I could hardly imagine Hannover as the center of a terrorism scare. Hannoverians take an odd pleasure in lamenting how boring and unremarkable their town is (that's the subject of an upcoming post). But our sleepy little city made international news on Tuesday night. The German and Dutch national soccer teams were scheduled to play at the Hannover stadium, and Angela Merkel was coming to watch. Given the attack on Paris just a few days earlier, security was tight and people were nervous. And with good reason - an ambulance filled with explosives was found nearby and police received a threat of a bomb somewhere in the stadium. Players and fans were evacuated. No game was played. Another tip pointed to a bomb on a train at the main station. Police shut down part of the station and found a suspicious package.

No one was hurt, and no game was played. I don't know who won in this situation. Was it the good guys, because no bombs exploded and everyone went safely home to bed? Or the terrorists, or would-be terrorists, because they disrupted our peaceful, boring, lives? Because they shook up our town and got in our heads? Terrorists seem to have super power capabilities to be everywhere and nowhere. They have no territory and their enemies can be anyone.

The stadium is just a block from our school. Understandably the kids, families and staff were worried. But there was no reason to stay home - you're not safe there either. The only way to react is to do all the little things you usually would in your sleepy city - to go to school, play soccer, take a train somewhere. That's all you can do.

I was actually in a few airports on Tuesday night. I flew to Edinburgh for a school counselor's conference and didn't know about the developments in Hannover until I landed. I don't know anyone who was evacuated from the stadium or whose train never left the station. And so the news about Hannover is something that could have happened, but didn't. Even though the events of Tuesday night happened right where I live, I feel distant from them. I wish the same sort of distance to people around the world.