PETERSON AIR FORCE BASE, Colo. -- As a journalist, it's my job to tell the story; I'm one of those on the outside looking in. Every once in a while, however, I become part of the story, tangled in a series of events that redirect my focus to a greater cause.
During a recent emergency management exercise here, I found myself thrust from spectator to player as a scheduled Chief's Call turned from ordinary to perilous in a matter of seconds.
As part of the exercise scenario, which to those of us in the auditorium was just another briefing, Chief Master Sgt. Thomas Trottier, 21st Space Wing command chief, began an Operational Readiness Inspection briefing with an analogy to marathons.
"The thing about a marathon is sometimes you get that tape, the finish line, in front of you and you feel like quitting, that's where we are now," he said to the group of about 150 Airmen and civilians.
"We can see the finish line, and like every good marathoner, they run through the finish line," added Chief Trottier.
"And that's what we're going to do, we're going to run through the finish line for this inspection and we're going to do well," he said.
With that, the chief continued with his brief, reminding us of the auditorium's evacuation points and procedures as part of his safety portion.
Next in the chief's briefing were ORI update slides.
BANG!
The first blast, like a clash of lightning bolts reverberating through the auditorium walls from the back.
A matter of seconds later:
BANG!
The second blast, this time from the front of the auditorium.
In the seconds following the first blast, time seemed to freeze as we looked around the room to understand what had just happened.
But all we had were seconds; seconds to react and make a decision between what was happening and what needed to happen.
After the second blast, we fell to cover - be it under the stage, our chairs or just getting as low as we could to the ground - and our infinitely valuable military training kicked into high gear.
First step: take cover.
Second step: get as far away as you can from the threat.
So one by one, lead by the chiefs and the few security forces members sitting in the front row, we low crawled through the auditorium to the side doors and ran for the cement barriers near the parking lot.
"What's the security forces' number?" one yelled out. "Four thousand," yelled another.
Working together, we sought protection from the still unknown threat in the theater, notified the appropriate authorities and began taking accountability.
Huddled behind the cement barriers, chiefs from various squadrons and units on base shifted from group to group as they sought to make sure everyone had made it out of the auditorium.
Within a few more minutes, we were directed to seek more permanent shelter as we made our way to the old base exchange; running low and together toward the building.
By this time, security forces had already surrounded the area.
"I need every single master sergeant now," one chief yelled out. "Come with me."
As the senior NCOs in the group, they talked with a security forces member to start piecing any and all information about the suspects in the auditorium.
A short while later, we made our way into building 1425 as the base implemented lockdown procedures. From there, we waited, still not fully aware of all that had happened.
Inside the old BX, senior leaders made contact with emergency responders and wing leadership, and began the process of taking care of the dozens of servicemembers relocated there.
They coordinated with 21st Force Support Squadron, who at a moment's notice made and provided meals to all those in lockdown. They coordinated with 21st Security Forces Squadron representatives, who worked to ensure the safety and protection of an entire base. They coordinated with the 21st Civil Engineer Squadron and the 21st Medical Group, who worked to provide decontamination, treatment and care for all affected.
As a public affairs professional, I knew my office would be hard at work during this situation to inform the public and base of the situation. Had I not been in the auditorium at the time of the threat, I would have responded to the emergency operations center as one of the primary public affairs representatives.
Fortunately, security forces within the building were gracious enough to allow me the use of a computer, as I was still able to connect virtually to my office and the EOC. From there, I was able to help my office collect information, craft press releases and set up a press conference with various commanders.
From one public affairs Airman to security forces, thank you for your continued support in all emergency response efforts.
There were more than 150 people in the auditorium that day, and even though it was not a real world situation and threat, I am confident in all the members of the 21st Space Wing and their ability to respond to anything.
Every wingman, leader and warrior answered a call to action that day and performed to the highest of their abilities.
I am thankful I was at the Chief's Call. If not, I would have never been fortunate enough to witness the dedication and hard work of all the amazing Airmen in 21st SW.
"The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion, spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who have never tasted victory or defeat," Theodore Roosevelt, 26th president of the United States.