I like to read about events in history that occurred on any given day. Today in 1957, the Gaither Report was issued. President Dwight D. Eisenhower had called a special committee to review our nation’s defense readiness. It concluded we had fallen far behind the Soviet Union in missile capabilities, and the report vigorously recommended citizens build fallout shelters for protection in the event of a nuclear attack.
It was five years after this report was issued that my dad dug a huge hole under our house to be used as a bomb shelter. We merrily had skated along in that thing called the Cold War, but in the autumn of 1962, we learned of the Cuban Missile Crisis, and things changed. President Kennedy went on TV, and notified the citizens of our country about the Soviet missile activity in Cuba, and extreme danger it posed to all of us. That was it. Neighbors, schools, and communities mobilized, and began doing what it took to protect their families from impending doom.
And for my family? There was my dad, every evening, after working all day, taking his shovel and bucket to my parents’ bedroom, descending into what once was a crawl space beneath the house, and through his diligence, was becoming our salvation should the bomb fall. My mom dutifully followed him, bringing a thermos of coffee with two cups, and a book to read while my dad dug. When he filled a bucket with dirt, she took it outside, and carefully emptied it into the backyard. Being a gardener, she arranged her piles of dirt artfully, building little berms that she intended to cover with flowers and vegetables. My mother never envisioned what the yard would look like post nuclear war; only that the dirt would make some lovely hills and give texture to the landscape.
At school, we were drilled on the drop and cover method of survival. We sat at individual desks, and upon cue, had to drop to the floor, crawl under the desk, and crouch there with our hands covering our heads, remaining in that position until the teacher gave us an all clear release. And do not think for a second that a nuclear bomb falling on us was the gravest concern during those drills. No it was not.
We girls, in those days, were bound to a dress code that mandated dresses or skirts. No pants, whatsoever. So, any girl crouching under a desk had not only to think about protecting herself from a bomb, she had to protect her modesty from boys who would not avert their eyes for any reason, given an opportunity to look up a crouching girl’s skirt. The skill required to keep prying eyes at bay was to swoosh the back of your skirt with your hands into the crook of your knees as you crouched down into a squatting position. After the skirt was tucked in the crook or your knees, you had to squeeze your legs and knees together really tightly to hold everything in place while you covered your head with your hands. It was not easy, but could be accomplished with determination, and strong thigh muscles. And a look on your face that told anyone trying to see something off-limits they would be better off with a nuclear bomb falling on them than to continue that improper behavior.
We survived those perilous times, both the bomb and the ridiculous drills. Looking back, how could anyone possibly have believed there was any merit to a homemade bomb shelter, or hiding under a desk with hands covering our heads? Why did anyone believe there was any safety in the following instructions? When you see a flash of light brighter than the sun-don’t run; there isn’t time. Fall flat on your face. Get down fast! Stay at least a minute. I am thoroughly convinced someone somewhere meant well; however, the world leaders, scientists, teachers, and parents of that day had witnessed the effects of atomic bombs that were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, so how did they think lying on the ground for a minute was the key to survival?
I only can surmise collective ignorance and naïveté were the culprits. Back then, those colossal weapons were still in their infancy stages, and we were young and relatively inexperienced in their potential for total destruction. Times have changed, and we know better now. The danger those weapons pose remains, but those of us who remember have a perspective unlike anyone else’s. We have held our breath, waiting for the fateful conclusion to a global threat; we have looked into the eyes of our loved ones, bade them good night, and wondered if we would be alive in the morning; we have hidden under our desks at school, knowing we could be annihilated at any second, dying with those same sweet kids we had known since Kindergarten; and we have emerged unscathed from it all, older and wiser.
Sometimes when I read the news today, I think about how frightened we were once upon a time, and how we dug holes and practiced our drills, doing all we knew to be safe. In hindsight, none of it would have helped, but though we were clueless, we believed we had some control over our lives and the outcome of a global crisis. Now we are connected and informed minute to minute with our advanced technology, experiencing national and international events instantly, or shortly after they happen; and yet, I do not think anyone feels any safer or more secure for it.
Perhaps, the answer lies in being able to do something, anything to bring back a sense of control. We need to take some action, be involved participants in creating our own well-being. We need to grab a figurative shovel and bucket, and behave as though we can make a difference in how we live and survive in these dangerous times. Yes, I believe that very well could be the ticket.
Circumstances are beyond human control, but our conduct is in our own power. ~Benjamin Disraeli
Galactic Junction 
I never understood how ‘duck and cover’ was going to save anyone. But I suppose we were doing something, and that gave us a sense of security.
LikeLike
We were so innocent!
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Totally Inspired Mind….
LikeLike
fascinating and i had no idea! thanx for posting.
LikeLike
It was quite a time. You are very welcome, and thank you for commenting.
LikeLike
The folly of it all.
But what’s harder to now imagine, the notion of protecting the kids by getting them under the desks? Or that we were the little ones not so long ago?
LikeLike
You get it. How incomprehensible that an adult would believe a desk cover would protect us. And so incomprehensible that we were those obedient kids who scrambled for cover just yesterday. That little kid still is within me; but now she questions things, and her knees don’t bend quite like they used to.
LikeLike
WOW, homemade bomb shelter and drills in school! Gee…did these leave you shaken as a child? Excellent reflection on our desperate need for control in the face of something so big we can’t puppeteer.
LikeLike
I was not shaken, but that just may have been me. I’ve never been given to drama; always the what needs to be done, let’s do it person. I have learned we as a community, or as individuals, feel less vulnerable, less helpless if we can put our hands and backs into working something. Being passive weakens us, being active strengthens us. Even if it’s futile, our work gives us a sense of purpose, and that plugs us into hope. And we know what happens to a people who have no hope.
LikeLike
I remember the duck and cover as well and how scared i was that we were going to be bombed. Of course looking back after reading your words (since I hadn’t thought of this in ages), it is quite silly that anyone would think covering our heads in a hallway would help. Now what do we do for protection really? Not much. I have more chance preparing myself for a California earthquake!
LikeLike
That is so true. Personally, I have been interested for years in learning how to live off the grid. I do not have to, nor do I choose to; but I could should the need arise. It feels good to have a preparedness state of mind, and to know you have done what you could.
LikeLike
I can’t imagine living off the grid but the earthquakes scare me. THe next thing I think about is all these electric cars they are starting to produce. We are even thinking of getting a small one. But what if the power goes out? I think I need a skateboard. 😛
LikeLiked by 1 person
Some day we’ll look back at TSA checkpoints in the same way ~> a ridiculous effort to give us the sense that we are somehow safer from terrorists. 😕
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s interesting, because I was living on Tyndall Air Force Base in Panama City, FL during that time. And the only effect it had on our lives was that we had to walk to school because our school busses were being used for the troops. We didn’t have any drills in our school – so either the Air Force knew it was a waste of time, or knew we were safe. As for all of the terrible things that can happen – I always work on visualizing the good and have been fortunate. Now, living here in Alaska where minor quakes you can feel happen almost monthly and life rolls on – and so must we all.
LikeLike
Thats right!
LikeLike
Great blog.!! And thanks for the blog follow too 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks! And you are very welcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wasn’t quite old enough for ” duck and cover” but I remember the Cuban missile crisis. And to your final point, I believe we have to act as if we can make a difference, because we can.
LikeLike
I also believe we can make a difference. We must never give up!
LikeLike
Shovel and bucket seem to be the tools of politicians. I’ll allow you to speculate on the contents of the bucket.
LikeLike
Well I am a true believer, so I have to go with pixie dust and glitter!
LikeLike
Your thoughts here are poignant. The grAbbing of a figurative shovel has come just at the right time for me. I’ve been trying to do something (I work in the charity sector) but it feels too little! and I feel powerless in the fAce of the suffering that some people face. But I feel encouraged by what you sAy here. We should keep doing what we can and keep digging! Thank for sharing your wise thoughts.
LikeLike
You are very welcome, and I appreciate your comment so much.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yep, did those drills, too. Even then I don’t remember believing they would be effective for the said purposes. I know that post-blast shrapnel is the main thing these crouch-and-hide poses were really meant to protect us against, but what was to prevent the desks themselves from becoming shrapnel in that kind of blast? Wishful thinking? Well, as you know, I’ve got plenty of that, so I guess I have as good a chance of surviving as most. 😉 What’s really striking here is your acknowledgement that we do have to find things to Do, rather than passively sit and wait for our doom. And so we should! Great post.
xo,
Kathryn
LikeLike
Thank you for your very kind words. We must never give up!
LikeLike
This is an old post, but I wanted to join in because I was deeply affected by the drills and the Cuban Missile Crisis. One day, after getting up from below the desks, my friend, Barbara, raised her hand and said that her mother told her if we were hit by a bomb she should run home. Sister Adelphine said, “Oh, you won’t make it home.” All 52 heads swiveled to the left, and looked at Barbara’s house directly across the lawn from our classroom. We knew exactly what she was saying. I clung so close to my mother when I got home, she pushed me away and said, “What is the matter with you?” When I told her, she said, “Don’t worry, President Kennedy will take care of us.” I had my doubts. Awful time! Whenever I hear that some country is being bombed at night, I think of how terrifying that must be for the children.
Ginene
LikeLike
Precisely. We came so close to a very bad global outcome during those days. Thank you for your comment.
LikeLike