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The Cuban Crisis by Billy Hall December 27, 2006 "I'll tell you what really jacks my jaw!" Dick exclaimed as he man-handled a tractor tire that was almost as tall as he was. As it came off the flatbed pickup there was a squishy sound as the mammoth tire hit the ground, rolled a few feet and stopped, still standing upright. It was "flat as a fritter" as they said in Winnsboro, Tx., my home town. "That damned Kennedy has shut off my supply of good Havana cigars!" With a grunt and a curse he proceeded to lay the tire on the ground in front of the service bay where he began to beat on it with a large mallet to separate the tire from the rim. This was no easy job for a man with only one good hand, but Dick took great pride in perform-ing tasks that would be difficult for a strong man with two hands. He had cut his left hand while working at a sawmill in the piney woods. These woods, known as the Big Thicket, ran from East of Winnsboro almost to Houston and provided jobs for lots of men in Northeast Texas. The doctor had been able to save most of the hand but it was frozen in a rigid position with the fingers extended straight out. The saw cut, plainly visible on his palm, was healed over,but usually scratched and bleeding from the hard, physical labor of the service station. After that, he began to drink more, always looking for a fight on Saturday nights. Many weekends he spent in the single-celled jail located behind the City Hall. However, on Monday morning,he was always at work, a little red-eyed and smelly, where he put in a hard day's work pumping gas and fixing flats. We lived in Dallas now and tried to come home on weekends to visit with our folks. I had a job at the Kroger Food store near Northwest Highway and Virginia worked at the Southwestern Bell Telephone Company in downtown Dallas. Winnsboro was 99 miles from Dallas but the highways were good and we made the trip whenever we had a free weekend. The news about Russian missiles in Cuba had everyone worried and was the main topic of most conversations. We noticed there was a great difference in the way people in Dallas talked about the possibility of war using Atomic bombs and the way it was viewed by our folks in Winnsboro. "MISSILES WITH ATOMIC WARHEADS FOUND IN CUBA" blazed across the front page of the Dallas Morning News on Monday October 22nd 1962. "KENNEDY THREATENS WAR WITH RUSSIA" and "ATOMIC WAR COULD MEAN THE END OF CIVILIZATION" ...calculated to sell papers and to inform the general public. Sensational headlines designed to stir up the populace. Every schoolkid knew about the Atomic Bomb that ended World War II and were taught to fear the effects of "fallout." We read stories and studied maps in the newspaper which showed that if Dallas was hit(which we considered a prime target), the prevailing wind blowing from the West to the East would engulf the area where all our families lived with a high level of radiation. Virginia and I were very concerned, like most other people about our abolity to survive for several weeks while the radiation level dissipated. Food, water and electricity were primary concerns for most people in densely populated areas like Houston,Dallas and Ft. Worth. Parents with young babies, like us, were worried about milk supplies and diapers and other necessities for a prolonged period of hiding underground during high levels of radiation.The scary stories made almost everyone consider possibilities about the end of civilization as we knew it. Some of the stories speculated about gangs who would prowl the landscape looking for food and taking what they wanted by force. These gangs would commit any crime and the picture was described in great detail in the papers and magazines how mob rule would be the order of the day. Other stories described how supply chains would be disrupted,creating shortages of every commodity that our society depended on. We read and tried to plan how we would cope with these worst-case scenarios. Bomb shelters were being sold and buried in backyards, stocked with food and water and toilet paper and folding cots and Coleman stoves and battery powered radios and everything you could imagine you might need. Guns and ammunition and knives and survival gear of every description were being bought and secreted away in preparation for the day the world would go crazy after the "BIG ONE" would drop. It was reminiscent of the hoarding that took place during WWII,when sugar,tires,and and many basic items were in short supply. Our folks in Winnsboro were not as frantic as city-dwellers.They had lived thru the Great Depression and had learned to be self-sufficient. During WWII,they had stuck it out,growing "Victory Gardens" and surviving on what they grew and the animals they raised. Although bomb shelters were unknown to them,they had grown up with "Storm Cellars" and they allowed as how they would be just as safe in one of them as in a steel or concrete-lined bunker. The revered practice of canning tomatoes,peas,cucumbers and anything they grew was still alive and well. They assured us they would not starve as long as the had chickens,cornbread and a jar of Aunt Mabel's "chow-chow". Almost every family had someone who took seriously her duty to can for the whole family. As we would leave,she would always stuff a box of canned goods into the trunk of our car,saying,"You have got to take this and eat it or it will just sit here and spoil." People in Dallas did not have the same resources. They had no vegetable gardens and most probably did not know about the fine old art of canning, Raising chickens was against some city ordinance and most did not ahve an Aunt Mabel in the family. As we made the trip home on Sunday evening, the crisis was in high gear,Kennedy threatening with a naval blockade that would intercept all Russian ships bound for "Cubar",as he pronounced it and Kruschev said the missiles were merely "defensive weapons"and claimed to be "surprised" at the U.S. response. Since Cuba was only 90 miles from Florida, our uncles,who were veterans of WWII in Europe and the Phillipines, said"Hell,just send down the Winnsboro National Guard and we'll wipe the sonsabitches out in two days".Virginia and I would wince and try to avoid the subject.We kept thinking about how vulnerable we and our kids were-Kathy almost 7, Laura was 4 and Paula was exactly 4 months.This was Saturday,Oct.27 and I had seen people in a state of panic all week. Young mothers had been cleaning out our shelves of baby food and truck loads of bread,milk and canned goods of all kinds.Many of them said they had emptied bank accounts to buy food to last thru the crisis.Terror-stricken and wide-eyed,they descended on every store in Dallas and grimly stripped the shelves and hurried to the checkout counter,breathing hard with the effort.As they shopped,they would quickly add more to their bulging baskets, spurred on by so many others who were nervously reaching for the last two or three cans of an item. We worked long hours that week and could not keep up with the insatiable demand for more mdse.Some employees stayed on the phone trying to get suppliers to bring more bread,milk,etc.but the story was the same all over Dallas.The magnificent supply lines that Capitalism had built ground to a halt in the face of a Russian threat. We tried to tell our relatives about the frantic activity in Dallas. They laughed and remarked they had lived thru a lot worse than a few Cuban missiles and they would survive this threat, too. We left Winnsboro on Sunday Oct 28th and returned to Dallas loaded down with canned goods as usual, with them saying,"There's plenty more where that came from if you need it". We wondered how they could be so calm in the face of danger and talked about it on the way home while the kids slept blissfully in the back seat.Listening to the radio, we heard the first good news in days. President Kennedy said the Russians ahd agreed to remove the missiles from Cuba.With a little more peace of mind, we drove back to Dallas,daring to hope the crisis was over for now. Monday morning was like no other Monday. Truckloads of mdse. began to arrive and a massive restocking commenced. We beagn to notice other things,too. The young mothers who so eagerly had stripped the shelves bare the week before were now showing up with huge sacks and baskets of baby food,paper goods,canned meat and all the other items they had purchased so hurriedly the week before.Many of the cans were dented,the baby food jars had labels missing and boxes were crushed. "The rent is due",as one lady explained it. "I need to return these things so I can make the car payment" another stated,apologetically.We called the District Supervisor and were immediately told to accept anything brought back for a refund regardless of condition. Breathing a sigh of relief,we cheerfully refunded money for goods, making three trips to the bank in the process. I believe that was the closest we ever came to a break-even for the week where refunds almost matched purchases. We were so happy the crisis had been resolved, we felt like celebrating every time someone came in pushing a basket full of goods with a hang-dog look, timidly asking for a refund. I am certain our cheerful response"Sure!! Great day,ain't it?" helped ease their minds and sent them home happy...almost as happy as we were on our trip home from Winnsboro. the night before. About the author: --I am 73 yrs. old --married to the same wonderful woman for 53 yrs. --we have three daughters and 3 grandkids --retired for 10 years after working for Western Auto for 30 years as a distribution center mgr and Kroger for 13 yrs as a store mgr and Brookshire for 2 yrs --enjoy a rest home ministry -singing and playing guitar-may have to live there someday --A Baptist deacon --play golf twice a week- not too well --write short stories and paint --sing in the church choir --love listening to G.Keillor | | | |
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