Ruth Sheehan, Staff Writer
At a time when Homeland Security dominates so much of the national consciousness, a little-known fact:
Half a century ago, the nation was similarly focused on civil defense and the possibility of nuclear attack by our Cold War enemies. While schoolchildren were learning to duck and cover, Gov. Luther Hodges did something more concrete.
Literally.
Hodges had a fallout shelter constructed somewhere inside the governor's mansion.
Interesting, no?
But what came next was even more remarkable. Forty-seven years ago this week, Gov. Terry Sanford announced a contest that would be inconceivable today:
"One lucky married couple" would get to spend three days in the governor's fallout shelter, after which they would be treated to an all-expense-paid night in the old Sir Walter Raleigh Hotel.
The chosen couple was from Charlotte -- and the wife was a reporter for The Charlotte Observer, which came in handy as dispatches from inside the shelter were issued daily. Afterward, the reporter wrote about her experience.
It would be a bit like Vice President Dick Cheney inviting a reporter into his famed Homeland Security bunker to write feature stories about its amenities.
He might never have let her out.
But Sanford at the time was participating in a nationwide campaign that simultaneously told people to be scared to death of the nuclear threat -- and to be reassured that with enough fallout shelters, we'd all be just fine.
Never mind that there were never enough shelters designated to accommodate both citizens and presumed refugees of nuclear attack in neighboring regions.
Never mind that most shelters were fully vented, raising questions in retrospect about their effectiveness.
But then, as now, in light of terrorist threats from around the world, placing the public on alert without prompting widespread panic is a delicate business.
Frank Blazich, a former Air Force man working on a master's degree in history at N.C. State University, sees interesting parallels between Civil Defense and Homeland Security. He is exploring those while telling the fascinating story of North Carolina during the civil defense era.
Blazich, who is still searching for North Carolinians who had their own shelters, has uncovered a treasure trove of newspaper clippings and original documents for his thesis.
But even he was surprised at the story of the fallout shelter in the governor's home.
It'd be fun to take a peek at the old shelter in the governor's mansion. Heck, it'd be fun to stay a few days.
But Maryanne Friend, with the state Department of Cultural Resources, did some digging of her own and learned my request came about 20 years too late. A history of the mansion published in the early 1990s indicates the shelter was dismantled. A brick wall, I'm told, may still remain.
Too bad for me. Too bad for Gov. Mike Easley. A fallout shelter might have come in handy when he came under heavy mortar fire for his handling of the state's mental health crisis.
Then again, there's some fallout even foot-thick brick walls cannot prevent.
If you built a shelter or still have one, Frank Blazich would like to talk with you. He can be reached at
frank.blazich@ gmail.com.