shooting at Columbine and that we needed to be in a lockdown situation, some students screamed in anger, can't get to my job! You can't do this to me! sucks! Other students cried about friends and their possible injuries; some stood numb in disbelief. When relative calm had returned (no one knew about deaths), a majority of kids either sat in our commons area and watched a makeshift television console or went to class to do the same. Others wandered the halls looking for escape from their newly instituted prison. In some classes, students cheered the actions of Lorri Brovsky, our campus security guard, whom they saw on television at Columbine, doing whatever she could to disarm the situation. She was our source of information. Eventually, she gave the okay to release our students to their homes. Did they feel fear? Yes, but more, they felt uncertainty about friends and even about Chatfield's safety. Within the next few days, students who combed the Internet chat rooms found that we were the next target. Few chose to believe that. I was glued to the television, awaiting news about Dave Sanders, whose name was not among those victims listed as having been brought to local hospitals. I suspected the worst, and when my fears were confirmed I grieved a lost friend with whom I had played recreational softball long ago and against whom I had briefly coached girls' softball. I did not look forward to the next day at school, but I would be surprised at how well our students would respond to this beyond-belief occurrence. Fortunately, I teach upper-level students. They are basically mature, caring young adults, and they made our debriefing sessions easier than I expected. Their primary concerns were for their fiercest rivals and off-the-field best friends and the impact that this event would have on them. They expected to be the host school, and they went about making that happen. Student Alliance (our name for student council) organized all of the contributions from WalMart, Kmart, Target, and many other stores that offered immediate help in the form of notebooks, backpacks, and pens. Book companies donated replacement texts; local schools donated extra athletic uniforms; and our students helped to organize and distribute these materials. One student in particular, Brad Lauervik, seemed to be everywhere at once. He knew every store manager by first name, every deliveryperson by uniform, every truck by its contents and destination. Then, supplies in place, we awaited the arrival of Columbine. By the next Monday, in preparation for hosting the Columbine students and staff, Chatfield was already on a new schedule, starting at 7:00 A.M. instead of 7:30 A.M. and ending at 12:10 P.M. instead of 2:00 P.M. All doors were monitored by parents and staff alike for the first three days until the parents, equipped with radio-receivers, felt comfortable in handling the entire duty, much to the relief of our students and ourselves. When Columbine arrived, their parent community would do the same. One way in and one way out was the mandate for that first week. Eventually students were allowed to leave the school through two exits, and then three. This modified lockdown was accepted as the norm for both student bodies for the remaining four to five weeks of school.