The ‘segregated’ playdate that led to a bomb threat

I was preparing for a work call when I heard the telltale helicopter sounds overhead. I say “telltale” because my neighbourhood gets several different types of helicopter traffic, each with its own sonic profile and emotional resonance — TV news choppers drawing wide circles in the sky, gathering footage of a backup or accident on a local freeway, which gives you a simple, selfish feeling: Glad I’m not on the freeway!; a Life Flight helicopter screaming over the rooftops toward Oakland Children’s Hospital, which can make you sad if you stop to imagine what that’s about; and the ominous, hovering-in-place sound of a police helicopter at mid-altitude, which generally means a criminal suspect is in the area, desperately trying to evade capture, which, if your teenage daughter has just left the house, can give you a little hit of worry.