I was eight years old on October 16, 1962.
It was a Tuesday and I was in grade school probably day-dreaming about anything but the world coming to an abrupt end.
But on that day, President Kennedy was shown some pictures of Soviet Missiles being assembled in a place called Cuba. It may has well have been the moon as far as an eight year old is concerned but my parents were very concerned. Dad had been in the Pacific theater when the last nuclear weapon was actually used and the fifties were filled with news story after news story about the Soviet buildup. Duck and cover in schools was just winding down and the fallout shelters were already starting to deteriorate. The size and scope of the weapons being built would prove to be so powerful that there probably weren’t enough shelters anyway and they would not provide enough…
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