Opinion: Trump’s nuclear threat revives Cold War worries

Recently, President Donald Trump threatened to resume nuclear testing.

The move could end a nearly three-decade period during which the major nuclear powers have refrained from detonating a nuclear weapon. If he follows through, experts say it could trigger other tests by nuclear-armed states. This could bring about another arms race, similar to that of the Cold War. This possibility has sparked a fear buried deep in my psyche since the days of Nikita Khrushchev.

As a pre-teen growing up in New Bedford during the early 1960s, I was petrified of World War III. Raised by demanding parents and having a strict Catholic school education, I grew up anxious. In class we prayed for the conversion of Russia. The towering stained-glass windows of my parish church portrayed Jesus, flayed and beaten by Roman soldiers. My mind “converted” those captors into Russians who would invade our country and drop “the bomb.” My terror was fed by TV news, duck-and-cover drills, and the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962.

Amidst this societal panic, many Americans transformed their basements into fallout shelters. Underground spaces in schools, hospitals, and government buildings were designated public fallout shelters. Protected by the surrounding earth, these areas would minimize exposure to harmful radioactive particles from a nuclear explosion until the radiation decayed to a safer level. Such places were marked with the iconic yellow and black signs screaming, “FALLOUT SHELTER,” a constant reminder of dreaded nuclear Armageddon.

My parents took me to a local exposition, featuring different shelters homeowners could build to protect themselves and their families from a thermonuclear bomb. It showed cinder-block subterranean rooms stocked with drinking water, canned goods, blankets, bunk beds, board games and puzzles.

New Bedford was a mill town with factories making drills, bits, tooling dies, and textiles — products critical in a potential war effort. I was certain our little city would be targeted for an invasion or bombing. I lived in fear of annihilation. Yet despite my distress and the general public frenzy, my parents didn’t construct a fallout shelter in our basement.

My angst persisted.

My parents’ good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Torres, lived in the nearby Dartmouth. They had three teenage children who were like older brothers and a sister to me. Often I’d stay at their home overnight and be treated royally. Mrs. Torres fed me hamburgers with all the trimming. She allowed me to stay up with the older kids and watch TV late into the night. I followed Mr. Torres around relentlessly. Theirs was a warm, generous family I loved and trusted.

One day in their cellar I watched Mr. Torres clean and fillet some fish he’d caught. I nonchalantly asked him what he would do in case of nuclear war. Mr. Torres calmly explained how he had converted his unfinished mostly-below-ground-level basement into a fallout shelter. He pointed out how massive the walls were around the windows. He had thick layers of fiberglass insulation coated with aluminum foil ready to pack into the window spaces. When he installed one to demonstrate, the room became dark and seemed impenetrable. There were shelves with canned food, water containers, books, and a deck of cards.

Mr. Torres said, “You and your parents are welcome to stay here with us if there’s ever a need.” 

I have no idea if his foil-lined fiberglass and thick walls were radiation-proof. He may have exaggerated the strength of those walls and the amount of emergency food and water on hand. I don’t know if he sensed my deep concern and was trying to put me at ease. But from that moment on, I believed I had someplace safe to go to survive a nuclear disaster. Like magic, Mr. Torres had relieved me of the burden I’d been carrying for so long.

President Trump’s recent post brought me back to that frightful part of my childhood. It uncovered memories of the tone of our country during that era. His announcement stirred up feelings of helplessness stoked by news reports.

My nerves aren’t so easily calmed these days. I like to think the world’s leaders now recognize the all-encompassing disaster resulting from nuclear war. I’m heartened that no one has used nuclear weapons against an enemy in 80 years.

Yet, in this uncertain world, we now see ourselves on the brink of another nuclear arms race. We may one day look back and realize that this current moment was the first step leading to a third world war — and a nuclear catastrophe.

When Mr. Torres offered me refuge he gave me hope. His practical, reassuring ways allayed my dread. I could use his comforting words today.

Elizabeth Pimentel teaches neuroanatomy at City University of New York Medical School. She was raised in New Bedford and lives in The Bronx but considers herself a New Englander at heart.