Just outside their windows, city and campus police responders brought a bomb squad, two explosive-handling robots, and dozens of bystanders who gathered just beyond the yellow tape lines. But inside the University of Toronto’s 89 Chestnut residence, students were told nothing by police, administrators, or the residence’s dean Josephine Mullally, about the car parked across the street that was suspected to contain a rigged explosive.
While students were gawking at police crews, the Chestnut residence was also playing host to a University of Toronto Health Network conference.
The situation began at 9:30 a.m., when police responded to a call placed from a pay phone near Osgoode Hall, CTV reported. The call threatened an explosion downtown, and investigators soon linked the bomb threat to a stolen vehicle discovered parked on Chestnut St. At 10 a.m., Toronto police cordoned off the street and shut down 89 Chestnut’s main entrance.
The residence’s administration was informed of the situation and convened a management meeting, where they decided to comply with police requests not to divulge information about the threat to the students lodged in the building. The former Colony hotel has been a University of Toronto dormitory since 2003, when the school bought it to cope with a huge spike in enrolment.
David Kim, assistant to 89 Chestnut’s dean, defended the decision not to inform students, saying that the police had asked administrators to withhold news of the potential threat to avoid causing a panic.
Had the bomb threat been confi rmed, Kim added, the building would most likely have been evacuated.
U of T’s Campus Community Police were also on the scene. Toronto Police 52 Division requested that the campus police offi cers get everyone to remain inside the building due to a “potential scenario” outside, according to Ruta Pocius, U of T’s director of issues management and media relations.
While the threat was being investigated, people were routed through the building’s East exit. At 12:30 p.m., police dismissed the threat as no explosives were found, and normalcy was restored.
For some residents feeling the midterm crunch, the affair passed unnoticed: “I slept through it,” said Hilary Barlow, a studious (and therefore groggy) fi rst-year student.
