If I was a kid in that class and he shot me with the finger gun, I'd act out the most dramatic cowboy death ever imagined. When I was in grade school we practiced air raid drills in case the angry Russians unleashed hell on earth. I remember having to get under the desk and cower convincingly. If you laughed or joked about it, the Principal would whack you with his "board of education". I am probably scarred for life, but not from this.
I remember wondering how a half-inch wooden desktop was going to protect me from a nuclear boom.
I remember the part we alawys said,place your head between your knees and kiss your ass good bye.Then giggle like heck.


