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It’s not a gun” she said, not completely convincingly. But, after a practical panic attack -I swear, I’ve shot enough guns to know what they sound like- and a subsequently non-eventful next few minutes… I figured she might be right.

Meanwhile, I had already surveyed the home-economic classroom we were in and decided where I would duck to on the off-chance that some crazy person came down the empty hallway and opened-fire on our evening cooking class.

I still was hearing shots. No one else in the room seemed to be alarmed. And there were over 20 of them, and they were actually from here. I wondered what was wrong with them. I felt like someone should be calling the local sheriff, or, whatever the equivalent of public safety would be. But nope: everyone was all-eyes on the front, watching the techniques being used to create the sumptuous traditional Norwegian Christmas dinner fare. And I’ll have to agree, it really was interesting. They had purchased a whole lot of LuteFisk [don’t try this one if you don’t love gelatinous fish], Lamb, Salmon, and an array of vegetables prepared in various manners. They were using the shiniest of shiny stainless steel and aluminum cookware that money can buy.

I looked around nervously, then I looked at my new friend as if to ask “What the hell is that? It sounds like gun shots. And it really sounds close!”

It’s not guns” she responded. I don’t know if she believed it or not. But she went on to say “it’s probably something else that sounds like guns”.

And then I figured, aw what the hell. She must be right. After all, we are at an evening cooking class on a public school campus. How could it be gun shots that I hear somewhere very nearby? And then I pictured in my minds eye some pissed off custodian banging stuff together, or hitting something, and I just couldn’t match anything that a custodian could do that would match what I know I heard.

There the shots started again. Well, maybe it’s an air-soft rifle or something. Or even a bee-bee gun. Something. I mean, if it were a real gun, someone would have called public safety, right? Right?

And then it was time for a short break while the food finished cooking. After break we would reconvene to taste the soon-to-be delicious traditional Norwegian holiday food.
I decided it was time to explore the three story Junior High School campus. I went downstairs and saw a light coming from a room that appeared to be directly below the room that we had our workshop in. I peeked into the door. The room was big. At first glance I thought it might be a band-room, or a small practice-sized theater. As I peered around the corner to the right, would you believe it? I saw a shooting range, complete with kids shooting while their parents watched, or read, or were looking at their i-phones, or crocheting.

Un. Believable.

After over a decade working in a mix-and-match of public and private schools between Costa Rica, California, and Idaho, I have never ever heard of or come into contact with an actual shooting range anywhere near a school campus, let alone within the walls of one. I was flabbergasted! Amazed! I couldn’t believe it.

And the best part?
“It wasn’t a gun”… It was a whole bunch of them. 

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