Yesterday, I dropped by J’s office to have lunch with him between his classes. We were sitting there, eating our hummus sandwiches and potato salad, when all of a sudden, something strange happened.
“A helicopter just landed outside your window!” I exclaimed.
It is not every day that one gets to make such a declaration.
“You know,” J said, “I thought I heard something that sounded like a helicopter.”
He’s a calm one, if you hadn’t noticed.
We watched it for a little while, trying to determine if it was a news helicopter or military or what, and I made some conjectures about a surprise Presidential visit (riiiiiight), and then it happened again.
Except this one was one of those really big military helicopters. And by “really big” I mean really big. That’s as technical as I can get. We’re talking within 50 yards of the building.
At this point, J announced that he was going down to check it out. So we did. We gathered with the growing crowd of folks holding up their smart phones and taking pictures of the mysterious arrival of two military helicopters in the middle of our little college campus. A dozen or so men and women in military garb, complete with guns strapped to their thighs, exited the choppers, were greeted by some local police and the chief of campus security, who presumably had expected their arrival, and then headed into the caf.
Yes, the caf.
We found out later that they were on the hunt for marijuana-growing operations, which can be seen best from the air, and they were just stopping over for lunch.
At the caf. Our caf.
In case you’re wondering how this connects to a blog on community, well, it doesn’t. Let’s not pretend.
Sometimes, though, as a result of blogging about community, I feel like I find myself in the middle of the strangest of situations. You know, gas stations near prisons. Pick-up trucks on fire. Zombies dancing in the street. Helicopters landing on intramural fields.
But I think my life is pretty normal otherwise.