Shown here, in the August 1963 issue of Radio-Electronics, is the path of a telephone call made from Washington to London, as part of that year’s Armed Forces Communications & Electronics Association (AFCEA) convention. The call was carried by conventional telephone lines at the beginning and end, but between Goose Bay, Newfoundland, and Flyingdales, England, it was a series of 13 hops over Canada, Greenland, Iceland, and Britain, via tropospheric scatter.
In the wake of the Cuban missile crisis, the U.S. Government realized that it needed a way to directly reach the Cuban people with a message of democracy. That was the job of the Voice of America (VOA), but the broadcaster’s shortwave transmitters were ill suited to blanket coverage of the island only 90 miles away from the United States.
The standard AM band was the way to go, and the station shown here was hastily put together, and the facilities in these three trailers were used to relay the VOA Spanish program with a 50,000 watt signal on 1180 kHz, beamed south to blanket Cuba. The frequency was shared with WHAM in Rochester, NY, but because of the directional antenna, very little of the signal could be heard in North America.
The August 1963 issue of Popular Electronics carried an article by William I. Orr, who got a tour of the station and wrote a description.
The VOA had another transmitter in Florida covering Cuba, which broadcast on 1040 kHz, a frequency shared with WHO in Des Moines. That frequency is no longer in use, but the 1180 kHz frequency is still used. In 1983, Radio Marti was spun off, which content targeted specifically to Cuba. In 1990, a television signal was added, broadcasting from a tethered balloon dubbed “Fat Albert” by locals.
Sixty years ago this month, the British Radio Constructor carried the plans for this interesting project, suitable for monitoring missile launches. Or, if you were lucky and happened to be tuned in at the right time, you could hear the signature RF signals of a nuclear blast going off!
The project itself was quite simple. It consisted of a loop antenna, feeding to a one-transistor ELF detector and one stage of audio amplification.
Eighty years ago, this couple owned a home recorder, visible in the background, for cutting their own 78 RPM records. It was probably a Wilcox-Gay Recordio like the one we previously featured.
The problem, however, was that you had to pay for the blank discs, and you could only use them once. The least expensive blanks were six for 75 cents for the 6-1/2 inch size, up to six for $2.25 for ten-inch discs. If you wanted to do some experimenting, it could prove expensive. And there was a war going on, so it wasn’t very patriotic just to make excessive use of resources.
This couple figured out that they could make their own blank discs by using used x-ray film. You could get this by asking your friendly family doctor, and in the days before HIPAA, he would gladly give you a bunch, since they would otherwise go in the trash.
Using an old blank disc as a guide, a wooden template was made for the spindle hole as well as a locking hole that held the disc in place while being cut. These were drilled out with a hand drill. Then, a divider was used to mark the edge, and scissor and a razor blade were used to cut the form. Since these were thinner than the standard blanks, you would put them on top of a standard blank while cutting. The magazine noted that the film records could be recorded on both sides.
According to the January 1943 issue of Popular Mechanics., these homemade blanks were ideal for practicing sound effects and making practice recordings before making the final cut on commercial blanks.
I’ve never seen any other American use of this idea, but it did catch on in the Soviet Union, where “jazz on bones” (Джаз на костях) became a popular black-market method of producing records. For a ruble or two, and probably a bottle of vodka, the local physician could be talked into giving you old x-rays, which would have wound up in the trash anyway. These were used to produce bootleg copies of otherwise banned music.
On my way to looking up something else, I was shocked to discover that this book, of over a hundred pages, existed. It was published 50 years ago by the Defense Civil Preparedness Agency, as the federal Civil Defense agency was known at the time. I was the target audience of this book, I would have loved it, but I didn’t know it existed.
One day as a youth, I discovered in our basement a Civil Defense pamphlet (specificaly, “In Time Of Emergency,” and I found it absolutely fascinating. The second half of the book, entitled “Natural Disasters,” covered things I was more or less familiar with, namely, floods, hurricanes, tornadoes, winter storms, and earthquakes. But the first half of the book was something entirely new, namely, something called a Nuclear Attack.
I was aware of the concept of war, and I was even aware that the bad guys might drop bombs during a war. But the bombs described in this book did more, namely, unleash radioactive fallout. And to survive a nuclear attack, you had to have a fallout shelter. For some reason, my parents were unwilling to construct a fallout shelter, but based upon the material in the book, I knew that we could eek by either with an improvised fallout shelter, or by going to the public fallout shelter across the street at the school I attended (although I had some doubts as to whether someone would come around to unlock the building if the nuclear attack took place other than during school hours).
In general, I became an advocate for everything I learned from the little book, and I though everyone should begin making some minimal preparations for, or at least having some awareness of the risk of, one of these nuclear attacks, as well as the other disasters described in the booklet.
Much to my surprise, most people seemed to dismiss my concerns, and some of them even seemed to actively avoid making even the most minimal of preparations. I couldn’t quite understand this attitude (in fact, I still don’t understand it). But I did do my best to promote civil defense. And since I was in school, the school provided me with my principal forum for my efforts. Of course, my poor sainted sixth grade teacher took the brunt of this, since she got to listen to me talk about civil defense whenever I could possibly work it into the conversation.
I learned all I could about civil defense, including getting every last piece of literature available from the local civil defense office. I also went to the public library, where I found what were possibly the only two books on the subject, namely, the novel Alas Babylon by Pat Frank, and his non-fiction work, How To Survive the H-Bomb and Why.
Frankly, I thought having a fallout shelter would be pretty cool. But it seemed that I was the only kid thinking this, and I eventually figured out that I was the only person–child or adult–with any interest in civil defense and fallout shelters.
It wasn’t until many years later that I discovered that there were other kids like me. It turns out that Alas Babylon is still in print and became something of a cult classic, and copies of How to Survive the H-Bomb and Why now go for hundreds of dollars, if you can find them.
And unbeknownst to me, somewhere in the Pentagon, someone was trying to help me in my quest to educate American students about the importance of civil defense. The book depicted above, “Your Chance to Live” was in production by the Defense Civil Preparedness Agency, and it was intended as a textbook for students on the subject of civil defense. Had I been aware of such a book at the time, I’m sure I would have pleaded with my teacher to get some copies, and if she balked, I probably would have appealed to the principal and then to the Board of Education. In fact, I would have gladly taken over the teaching duties as my classmates learned the lessons from this book.
The activities are particularly interesting. One of them, shown at left, is an ALERT-O card, similar to BINGO. In this fun activity, suitable for grades 5-12, each student would be given an ALERT-O card, and the teacher would call out items from the card, such as “Intercontinental Ballistic Missile.” Students would mark the appropriate spot on their card, and the first student with four in a row would be the winner.
The telephone was the response to “do not use this to obtain further information and advice about an emergency,” and there were two True-False questions. The guide noted that after the game was played, students would probably have questions, which could lead to further research on topics of interest. For example, one student or a group might be assigned to do a research report on NORAD.
The book was full of other games and activities about civil defense. For example, in one activity, a group of students would bring together items necessary to stock the fallout shelter, and then discussing the relative merit of the selected items. There were even crossword puzzles (for grades 7-12) with words such as “nuclear” and “bomb.”
Even younger students could join in on the fun activities, such as the color-by-number puzzle at the right. In addition to familiarizing students with the CD emblem, it would help them brush up on their math facts.
The textbook itself is fascinating. There are a few blanks that the student is directed to fill in with local information, such as the location of the closest shelter, so presumably, the idea was that students would get to keep their copy of the book as a future reference.
The preface notes that disasters are a part of life, and that “even a nodding acquaintance with some of the dangers of everyday life and what to do about them can help.”
The actual text starts with this promising language:
A federal agency has issued this book as part of its responsibility for your safety, and for overall national preparedness and security.
The text, format, and illustrations of the book do not conform to the stereotyped image of a government publication.
You may even enjoy reading it!
I certainly would have enjoyed reading it. First of all, it was full of thought-provoking illustrations such as the one shown here while discussing stockpiling food for an emergency, and the one shown above, depicting an idealized well-stocked shelter.
The booklet didn’t have quite as many details as most civil defense publications, but it did cover the basics, to teach kids the fundamental information they needed to know to survive a disaster.
There were chapters on forest fires, heat waves, tornadoes and thunderstorms, hurricanes, floods, winter storms, earthquakes and tidal waves, technological failures and emergencies, as well as environmental pollution. Of course, it culminated with chapters on nuclear disasters, warning systems, and home shelters, all information focused on preparation for a nuclear attack.
The book concluded with a chapter on psychological preparation, stressing the need to avoid panic, and the perils of inaction. For example, it explained how one resident of Pompeii survived by quickly taking action and leaving town when Vesuvius erupted, whereas those who didn’t act lost their lives to the disaster.
Even though written for kids, the book was candid in its description of the effects of nuclear weapons. For example, “if a 5-megaton bomb (5 million tons of TNT equivalent) were exploded in your living room, everything except specially designed structures in an area extending outward for 3 miles would be totally devastated. Look out your window and think what that means.”
The chapter on home shelters doesn’t go into any detail about construction details. Apparently, that will be left for Mom and Dad to figure out. But it does include this interesting vignette about one student’s experience with a home fallout shelter:
Dan’s eyes were open now. It should be morning, he thought. But it was still pitch black, and stuffy. If it was night, where was his window? The street lamp outside ? And if it was morning, why wasn’t it light ? He sat up on one elbow.
Dan remembered now. He was in the top bunk of the fallout shelter. Jerry was in the bunk below. Their parents had built and stocked the shelter in a corner of their basement; and then they decided to try it out.
What if this were a real attack, Dan wondered. That would be something else. Radiation caused by nuclear explosions would be scary—and could be a danger everywhere for people who survived the blast and heat of the explosion. At least you could protect yourself from radiation and the danger would fade with time. The radiation would decrease rapidly in the first 24 hours, and then start leveling off. Crash ! There was a shattering of glass. The peanut butter jar had fallen off a shelf onto the glass water jug. Both had shattered.
Dan watched his father carefully sweep the glass into the “dry garbage” sack.
“Obviously, no more glass in the shelter,” Dad said. “Plastic bottles for water; and stuff like jelly, and peanut butter, in plastic containers. And it needn’t be beans for breakfast every morning, either. A little planning could provide variety, as well as nourishment. Corned beef hash, canned spaghetti, peaches, and dry cereal . No problem there.”
By ten-thirty, the boys were bored to the teeth . This was the big problem with feeling cramped a close second. His parents were reading. He and Jerry worked awhile on a model jet fighter. But there was no glue. No heater either. No television, no fresh milk, no candles, no kerosene lamps. The radio was on now. This helped relieve the monotony. And he reflected that in a real emergency, the radio would be their link with the outside world. Through radio, they would receive official information and instructions–and they would learn when it would be safe to come out of shelter.
Dan felt sleepy. The air in the shelter was becoming warm and sticky. He longed for the outdoors and sunshine. Kids playing outside the shelter were yelling, having a good time. That made it very hard to wait until evening, when they would be leaving the shelter.
Despite this, he knew that in a real attack situation he would be grateful for the protection from radiation provided by the thick walls and roof of this shelter. He remembered that if there really had been a nuclear explosion, they probably would have to stay in the shelter for at least 24 to 48 hours–or even longer, depending on the outside level of radiation. And, they might even have to dig themselves out. That’s why they needed shovels, axes, and ropes. Dan was glad this was only a trial run. But he was also glad they’d done it.
It would make it easier to cope, if it ever came to the real thing.
Suddenly, it felt good to be alive !
Interestingly, the Civil Defense office also made a series of films designed to accompany the book. The one covering nuclear attack is quite interesting, and I’m sure would have been appreciated by older students. It begins as a “making of” movie about the production of a civil defense film, but has an ironic twist at the end:
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.
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.
Shown here, in the August 1963 issue of Radio-Electronics, is the path of a telephone call made from Washington to London, as part of that year’s Armed Forces Communications & Electronics Association (AFCEA) convention. The call was carried by conventional telephone lines at the beginning and end, but between Goose Bay, Newfoundland, and Flyingdales, England, it was a series of 13 hops over Canada, Greenland, Iceland, and Britain, via tropospheric scatter.
