Surviving the 60s

by Jim Graupner
Surviving the 50s & 60s: A Near-true Account of Standing up to the Soviets

It was probably challenge enough trying to get through the teenage years, but on top of it all children of the 50s and 60s had to contend with the prospect of nuclear war--well, after the Russian Soviets managed to use all those German scientists to discover the secrets of putting one together. Then, too, Premier Nikita Khrushchev did visit an Iowa farm and earlier had proclaimed, "We will bury you."

In 1952, during the Korean War, our farming village of Spencer, Wisconsin, located where it was on Highway 13, which runs directly north-south through the center of the state, was a perfect route for the Russian invasion. One lady next to the Methodist Church (later, a Mennonite Church), even locked her doors and pulled the shades against the horrible prospects. It made perfect sense that the Russians would fly over the North Pole with their bombers laden with nuclear weapons and launch the attack into the heart of America over Spencer.

Against this perfect logic, the good citizens of Spencer marshalled themselves into a state of preparedness. They decided to build an observation tower 20 feet atop the firestation and man it with towns people, armed with binoculars and connected by a local telephone line to the Strategic Air Command in Madison. The observation post was actually a plywood cube, maybe 10'x10'x8', with windows on all four sides. They'd keep track of the intercontinental bomber traffic and, using a diagram of the sillouettes of two Russian bombers (side views and top views), record each group of invading planes--of course it was difficult to distinguish each plane because they were unique only by one or two little bumps or pertrusions off the wings and fuselage.

[Note: Cathy Busby Graupner actually came up with an article that was written about the observation tower, republished on page 49 of the centennarian booklet entitled, "Spencer, Wisconsin 1874-1974." On page 119, there is an amazing aerial photo of Spencer from 1956, on which you can actually see the tower. On the detail above, it can be seen as a tiny white cube with windows above the little brick firestation, white doors in front with windows on either side, in the extreme left-center side of the photo. The actual article is reprinted as a scanned article at the end of this story.]

According to Form 6.3 of 1 August 52, "Aircraft Flash Message Record," observers were to fill in Date, phone exchange and number, number of aircraft, type of aircraft, altitude of aircraft, time delay in reporting, code name of observation observation post (O.P.), Direction of aircraft from O.P., distance of aircraft from O.P. (Record to the nearest mile), direction of flight, and special remarks (i.e., hostile aircraft, blimp, helicopter, aircraft in combat or distress, etc.). There were 30 lines for recording the information on each sheet.

Now, most of the people living in Spencer (pop. 780), were merchants or retired farmers or professionals who were looking for a town with promise. Promise, because it had the junction of the Soo Line from Ashland and the Chicago Northwestern railroads. Our grandparents were there and our family, on the farm just outside the village, and our cousins who lived in town. Some of the retired farmers couldn't walk the best, having fallen off silos and such, and grandpa had cataracts and grandma had hip problems, but they all trudged up the steep steps to the top of the firestation and up the ship's ladder to the observation cube.

Despite their limitations, they were enthusiastic about fulfilling their civic duty in defense of the nation. It was exciting, like when the village's favorite son, who played for a professional football team, buzzed the town with a low-flying pass in his military jet. One can only imagine the operator at the SAC in Madison listening to the calls from serious-minded callers serving their watch and describing the attack, which through a binocular might have been actual Russian bombers, products of astigmatism, fly specks, actual flies, or pieces of lint. Perhaps the SAC fighter jets were scrambled just in case the great airwar for North America would be fought over the local marshland, where kids could see the planes explode in fireballs and black smoke streaming up as the Russian planes hit the swamp and were sucked under.

In 1962, during the Cuban Missile Crisis, survivalists living in town or on the farm could prepare for the Nuclear Winter by building bomb shelters either in their homes or schools. Students learned the duck-'n-cover routine in school so that they could survive the initial blast under their desks. Out in the countryside, farmers could build simple shelters in the earthen-floored basements of their houses by placing feed sacks to enclose a space against the stone-wall foundation and stocked with canned peaches or canned chickens, a kerosene lantern and the latest technology, a transister radio.

County fairs featured booths with beautiful pamphlets on how to construct stronger and more resistant shelters. The "General Information" gave instructions for people who preferred to construct their shelters in "backyards and basements." There were eight design choices from the 45 square, 128 cubic foot "Lean-To Shelter" for three persons, to the attractive "Clay Masonry Shelter" with over 70 square feet of area and 420 cubic feet of space--for six persons.

The "Fallout Protection Factor" of all shelters, "if properly constructed," had "a fallout radiation protection factor of at least 100--the minimum recommended by the Department of Defense." I was never quite sure whether the farmers could duck out to do chores or how long they might be able to remain in the relative safety of the shelter before getting out to get on their tractor and make hay or combine or make fence. Additionally, there is a cautionary note that concludes the instructions: "In building any of the shelters, modifications may have to be made to suit local building codes. If modifications are necessary, they should be checked with local civil defense authorities before starting construction." Printed: January 1962. Reprinted March 1962.

The Spencer Observation Tower:

[Note: this is the article republished in "Spencer, Wisconsin 1874-1974." If you click twice on the detail, it will zoom larger so that you can read it better. Of course, the "near-true" version I wrote comes from the mind and lore of a kid who was in second grade at the time. I remember that the band was playing at the dedication celebration on a beautifully sunny day and that the doors of the firestation were open and that lots of homemade food was being served, while a throng of people engulfed the fire engines and were climbing into the tower--my memories stem largely from that event.]