September 1988. A seemingly ordinary autumn morning. Schools were back (my brother was still there), and I was due to start college, but had a dr's appointment.
We heard the deafening noise of the siren. It was so loud and pervasive, that it was impossible to think. I ran to the TV (the news was on), and turned it as loud as it would go, hoping to drown out the siren, and hear if WWW3 had begun, and we were unawares.
My mum phoned the police, my sister went outside, trying to gather up the kittens, whilst the neighbours were screaming in the garden.
I then ran out the front door. I guess I thought it wasn't real, and outside would be 'normal'. But no. We lived on a major A road, and all the cars had stopped. The car dealership opposite had the staff out looking concerned.
Then it stopped. Everything returned to normal. The police told my mum that the siren had been let off accidentally, and was reported in the papers.
I was limping by the time I got to the Dr, and a later X-ray showed I'd broken my ankle (yes I still walked on it to start with, adrenaline is a huge painkiller).
The point to this - I never behaved in the way I thought I would. I wanted to be with other people, and discovered I wanted to flee. Which was in stark contrast to how I 'thought' I'd behave. The drill was so real that we (those in the vicinity) really thought that was it.
I don't know what my mum thought about my brother. His school was 5 miles away, and she didn't have a car. But the adrenaline I think, got to her to. You are so disctracted that you don't have time to worry as such.