Sixty years ago today, the February 9, 1962, issue of Life Magazine reported that the world had not come to an end six days earlier, on February 3. As discussed in the magazine and in this article, millions of people were apparently disappointed on February 4 when the Earth was still around.
The biggest frenzy apparently took place in India, where millions reportedly gathered in Bombay in anticipation of the disaster. An alignment of planets was said to be the cause of the non-event.
Eighty years ago today, according to the January 24, 1942, issue of Radio Guide, fire bombs were “ugly, dangerous weapons the enemy will eventually try to use right here in the U.S.A.” According to the magazine, hundreds of such bombs, each weighing only a couple of pounds, could carpet an area, causing particular damage if they hit the roof or attic of a building. Bing Crosby, therefore, took a few minutes out of the Kraft Music Hall program to allow Maj. John S. Winch to discuss how to deal with the threat.
The wrong thing to do was to hit them with water as soon as they landed, since the water would ignite the magnesium. It was necessary to wait about sixty seconds, and then if attacking it with a hose, to use a mist of water. The idea was to let the bomb burn out, and keep nearby material from catching fire. Buckets of sand stored at strategic locations were also indicated, according to the magazine.
This threat, of course, never materialized in the continental U.S. For the closest thing to happen, be sure to read our four-part series on the Fu Go Fire Balloons.
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Shown here is Hallicrafters’ foray into the world of land mobile radio, as set of FM transceivers for the low and high VHF bands. Models HT-21 and HT-22 were hand carried, and covered either 25-50 MHz or 150-174. Models HT-23 and HT-24 were base station transceivers for the same bands.
The ad here appeared in QST 70 years ago this month, January 1952. The prices weren’t given, but I suspect they were out of the price range for most hams, and hams didn’t even get on VHF FM in any numbers until similar equipment started to hit the surplus market a decade later. I suspect the ad was intended for hams who happened to be involved in purchasing for public safety or business radio systems, since they would probably find the Hallicrafters name impressive. A well financed Civil Defense department might consider these for their RACES operations, although most such activity took place on AM.
According to the specs, the sets didn’t even cover the 6 and 2 meter ham bands, although I’m sure most hams would have little difficulty bending them just enough. The low band models did cover 10 meters, so if the well heeled appliance operator could put one on ten meters with little difficulty, although it’s unlikely he would find anyone to talk to.
The January 1942 issue of Radio Retailing stressed to its readers that their trade was an essential one. Radio was a necessity in every home, factory, office, and car. The radio dealer’s patriotic duty was to keep ’em working.
Here, the magazine notes that Americans might have need for bomb shelters, and a working radio would be an essential part of that shelter.
Sixty years ago today, the January 16, 1962, issue of the Washington Evening Star carried this feature by its outdoor editor about one of the stars of the New York Motor Boat Show. This craft was touted as a seagoing fallout shelter. The craft was from the Wheeler Yacht Company, which had teamed up with a name familiar to students of television history, namely Dr. Allen B. Du Mont, one of the pioneers of television.
The principle behind using a boat is sound, as described by Du Mont. Fallout is almost invariably heavier than water, and sinks to the bottom. If the water is 10 feet deep, this means that there is 10 feet of water between the fallout and the boat, which is equivalent to 3 feet of earth, giving excellent protection. Of course, fallout might have settled on the boat, so it was equipped with nozzles for cleaning the deck. Fallout on shore was dealt with through distance, by keeping the boat a minimum of 750 feet from shore. Of course, the ship did nothing to protect against blast and fire, and noted that it would need to be at least 35 miles from ground zero at the time of blast.
For a more detailed look at the concept of using boats for fallout protection, see the 1963 report from the U.S. Naval Radiological Defense Laboratory, Civil Defense Utilization of Ships and Boats.
Shown here is second lady Lady Bird Johnson touring a fallout shelter at the home of John R. Bryan, Jr., 25014 Woodfield Drive, Damascus, Maryland.
Because of his official duties as Training and Education Officer with the Office of Civil Defense, Mr. Bryan would be on duty at such time as the shelter was occupied, but he built it, at an expense of about $300 for the benefit of his wife, daughters, and mother in law.
According to the Washington Evening Star, the shelter was surprisingly cheerful looking, with yellow walls. It measured 10 by 11, with a height of six feet. Concrete blocks eight feet thick surrounded it. About 40 gallons of water were stored in the shelter, with an additional 160 gallons in tanks in the basement connected to the shelter by a hose. Food consisted largely of canned goods, with crackers and other items. A canned heat stove was on hand to heat meals, but when Bryan participated in a shelter occupancy experiment, it was discovered that this type of stove was very slow to heat the food. They also had a ratemeter and dosimeter, and as shown above, a portable radio. Little money was spent on furnishings, since most were hand-me-downs or camping gear.
The children slept on the double-decker cots, and one cot was left out during the day for seating. Another cot was unfolded at night for sleeping. A folding table rounded out the furnishings. Toilet facilities consisted of a portable toilet using plastic bags, which would be sealed in food cannisters after they had been emptied.
Yesterday, we featured some fallout shelter designs from the December 1961 issue of Popular Mechanics. The public relations department at the Office of Civil Defense must have been working overtime, because that month’s issue of Popular Science also carried a feature entitled “Plain Facts About Fallout Shelters.” The Popular Science article was written mostly in Question and Answer format. It started by noting that those who build fallout shelters in the past kept it secret for fear they would be considered crazy. But according to the magazine, “safety precautions against the ravages of atomic war no longer reveal old-maidish nervousness but admirable prudence.”
Unfortunately, the magazine lamented that many buyers, as well as builders, of shelters didn’t know what they were doing. So the article is devoted to dispelling some misconceptions and providing good information.
The chart above illustrates that radiation is not necessarily fatal, but the dose is the key factor. The stress on fallout shelters was because much of the country would be free from the immediate effects of the blast, but would be subject to deadly fallout. The general idea was that if you were in the “probably die” category, you would want to move yourself up to “sick,” or even better yet, to “safe.” And a fallout shelter would do that for millions of Americans.
After explaining the basics, the magazine urged readers to write to the Office of Civil Defense for further information. It also made the reminder to check local building codes before starting work.
Sixty years ago this month, the Cuban Missile Crisis was still almost a year off, but protection from nuclear weapons was already on the minds of many Americans, and the December 1961 issue of Popular Mechanics carried construction details for four fallout shelters. The deluxe model shown above, with an estimated cost of $1841 (about $17,000 in 2021 dollars) was typical of that offered by commercial builders. It was an underground room that could be used in peacetime for some other use, with an attractive patio on top, complete with a built-in grill.
The other end of the cost spectrum was represented by the design shown at left courtesy of Prof. R.M. Stephenson of the University of Connecticut’s nuclear engineering program. He estimated that the design would reduce radiation levels by a factor of 200-1000, meaning that it would save lives even in areas of high fallout. The material consisted of 100 sandbags, 10,000 pounds of dry sand, and some miscellaneous lumber, with a cost of only $30 ($279 in 2021 dollars).
The next least expensive was the design shown at right, with an estimated cost of $97 (about $900 in 2021). The initial construction of this design was done prior to the emergency, requiring about 33 hours of labor. A wooden frame was mounted to the wall with a hinge for the ceiling, with the concrete blocks stored nearby. In time of emergency, the construction could be completed in about two hours, assuming you were in a hurry, which you probably would be. To save space in this shelter, food and water was to be stored outside, with the occupants brining in a one or two day supply.
The final design, shown below, could shelter four persons at a cost of $280 ($2600 in 2021 dollars). This design was made mostly of concrete block. Some lumber was used, and the designers recommended that any lumber in contact with existing basement floor or walls be coated with tar or white lead paste to prevent rot.
The magazine offered a booklet with more details about the designs, and also directed readers to the Office of Civil Defense for more free information.
Seventy years ago, this police officer stood watch over an empty Fifth Avenue & 44th street in Manhattan, as the city conducted its first ever air raid drill of the atomic age. At 10:33 AM on Wednesday, November 28, 1951, the sirens sounded, and all New Yorkers were to take shelter. Buses stopped, and passengers were handed a special transfer that instructed them to take shelter in the closest building, and then present the ticket as soon as the all clear was sounded to re-board the bus. The New York Stock Exchange shut down as traders left the floor and headed to shelters. At left, schoolchildren and their teachers take cover at school.
According to one account, there were about a hundred fatalities when motorists dutifully stopped their cars and headed to the public library, which was locked. They eventually made their way to a bank on the other side of the street, but were presumably vaporized before they could get there.
These images appeared in Life magazine 70 years ago today, in the December 10, 1951, issue.
The May 1962 issue of Electronics Illustrated showed this smart-looking regenerative receiver kit from Allied, the Knight Kit “DX’er”, a three-transistor regenerative receiver for the broadcast band and one shortwave band. It operated with four penlight cells, and Allied touted the receiver as ideal for the fallout shelter.
It does seem like an ideal choice. The set undoubtedly had a low current drain, and with a few extra sets of batteries stored away, it would probably be a good source of information for the duration of the stay. The standard broadcast band could be used to pull in the local CONELRAD station, and the shortwaves would probably give some indication of what was going on in the outside world.
According to the magazine, the kit sold for $19.95, but in the 1963 Allied catalog, the price had been reduced to $14.95.