Shelters from terror of terrorism

The Macon Telegraph ^ | 24 Feb 03 | Ed Grisamore

[Ed Straker]

Shelters from terror of terrorism

By Ed Grisamore

Telegraph Columnist

I still remember the slam of the screen door in the kitchen and the spot on the den floor where I pulled my first tooth.

Sometimes, my memories sweep me back to the crape myrtle at the edge of the driveway. Or along the path to the white picket tree house.

Lately, though, I've been reminiscing about the basement of a house we rented when I was a child growing up in LaGrange.

It had an old coal bin that was no longer being used. The furnace had been converted to gas.

One day, my dad started hauling cinder blocks down there and putting up walls. He ordered two "radiological" filters from an Army surplus store and mounted them in the windows.

When we asked our mother what he was building, she tried to hide the fear in her voice.

"A fallout shelter," she said.

It was October 1962, the beginning of two of the most tense weeks the world has ever known.

The history books would refer to it as the Cuban Missile Crisis. As children, we were too young to understand just how close we came to a nuclear showdown with Russia.

My family was lucky. We were prepared. The coal bin provided a suitable shelter from harm's way.

My mother carried cans of fruit and vegetables down the basement steps. My father hauled jugs of water.

We had Army cots to sleep on and a Coleman stove to cook on.

My father took his gun. My mother took her Bible.

It was a very emotional time for her.

"I had four young children," she said. "We had this happy family living upstairs, with a fallout shelter downstairs. It was more psychological than anything."

We knew other families that had built shelters in their basements or dug holes in their yards. Our shelter became somewhat of a neighborhood attraction. Little old ladies from the garden club dropped by to see it. So did the Baptist preacher.

"We had enough supplies for two weeks," my father explained. "Our attitude was to do what we could and not worry about the rest."

Four decades later, we live in dark shadows. In many ways, this threat is even more frightening. We cannot easily identify the enemy. He could be hiding among us. He has technologically advanced weapons in his war chest.

Our country has created a Department of Homeland Security. We have a color-coded alert system supplied by intelligence and fueled by the jitters.

We have cleared store shelves of duct tape and plastic sheeting. We are obsessed with watching the TV news. We have placed ourselves at risk of being killed by overkill.

But for what? Is it coming? Can it get here? Or are we simply suffering from the terror of terrorism?

We don't have a fallout shelter at my house. We don't have a basement, much less an old coal bin.

If necessary, we will hunker down in a large closet with a modest supply of water and food.

For me, my father's advice from those fallout shelter days is still practical.

Be prepared. Do what you can.

Don't worry about the rest.

Reach Gris at 744-4275 or egrisamore@macontel.com. Visit his Web site at www.grisamore.com.

[Ed Straker]

We've got provisions and lots of beer
The key word is survival on the new frontier

-Donald Fagen