1962 Missile Crisis

Published June 15, 2025 by Nan Mykel

I worked as the “Radio Editor” at the Atlanta Journal after graduation from UF and just before the arrival of my first child. In going through earlier papers, I came across a column from October, 1962, I’d like to share, especially since I’ve sworn off giving any coverage to you-know-who:

RADIOS ON THE STREET BUT FACES ARE SOMBER

If one didn’t know better, he might think it was still World Series time–as many people are carrying their portable radios on buses and trolleys these days. Of course there is a tenseness in their expressions that wasn’t there before, and they’re quieter. They’re listening for news they dread to hear. War.

This isn’t the first time the radio has carried somber news, of course, and it won’t be the last. But the people feel a certain urgency in this crisis. Besides, Cuba is so near…

They aren’t sure how much personal precaution should really be taken. (After all, it’s never happened here before.) It’s hard to gain a perspective on something hundreds of miles away. But for good measure, many are keeping close to their radios, especially their portables. They know that should an attack come, a battery radio would be their mainstay.

The Department of Civil Defense is telling people this, and Atlanta department stores report a run in battery-operated receivers.

CONELRAD– In the grim eventuality of an actual attack, all radio stations would ask listeners to turn to 640 or 1240 on their dials, where a Conelrad station would would keep the public informed in civil defense measures and the situation in general.

According to Major Herbert O. Connor, in charge of communications at Atlanta’s Office of Civil Defense, there are four Atlanta radio stations on the Conelrad hookup. Just which stations they are must remain a secret for security reasons. A direct line runs between the Office of Civil Defense and the Conelrad station setup, he said. The same programming would be over both frequencies, and would be continuous until the all-clear signal. Conelrad, by the way, stands for “Control of Electro-Magnetic Radiation”

EDITORIALS AND NEWS–News coverage has been stepped up by all Alanta’s radio stations. Being state-owned, WGST doesn’t editorialize, but news staffer Bill Conover says that the news staff has “doubled up” and is on duty from Sign-On to Sign-Off….WQXI’s editorials have stressed keeping calm and giving Civil Defense advice….At WAKE, bulletins are put over the air as soon as they come off the wire, “fast and furious.”…At WAOK, Jim Wood editorialized that “while the Reds were mounting their machines of war, at our back door, we were fighting over letting citizens live as true Americans. It took several thousands of troops to help one black American veteran go to school. Not all our enemies are in Cuba or Russia…And at WIIN they’re playing a harp at station breaks, but it’s been going on for years, Jim Stevenson says. It’s not meant as a commentary on current events….

WHAT/ ME WORRY?–Life went on in many ways as usual, however. There seem to be enough mundane things to do, like change diapers or wait in lines–it’s somehow reassuring. True, a few ladies who don’t read the radio column got upset when they saw the B-17 Flying Fortress bomber promotional stunt last Wednesday. They thought the plane had been attacked by Cubans. Incidentally, WAKE’s Buddy Moore and WGUN’s Dave Hill, who rode to Cincinnati, Ohio in the World War II bomber, said it would have been fun if it weren’t so cold. They flew from 12-14,000 feet up, with all the windows busted out….

______________

NOTE – Signing off for a few days. Basement condo flooded with water, again. Hop[ed to be in touch later. Nan

How Is James Redfield?

Published June 12, 2025 by Nan Mykel

I looked him up after reading The Celestine Prophecy this week. Oh, I know it was all the rage when published back in 1993, but is he still alive and still believing? Had the reality of 2025 wiped him out? His photo on the dust jacket was so cheerful and full of hope that I feared for him. I had only read about his book; never come across it. Quick to the answer, he’s fine, still alive at the age of 75, and still believing in the Spiritual rather than in Religion, which is “much too familiar with the alignment of individual doctrines.”

__________________i

PERFECT METAPHOR

A.I. Oh my. I’ll cry!

We were gifted somehow

as Caretakers of life

on Earth. Toss a penny,

save or destroy was

the question; what

would we do with all our power:

Make or shake or desecrate?

We lost control and as the

nasty pus of greed triumphs,

steaming toward 2050,

what will be will be.

Nan

UF Students Meet MLK

Published June 11, 2025 by Nan Mykel

Red, white and blue flags hung from the ceiling of the Fort Homer W. Hesterly auditorium in Tampa Sunday night. More than 2,000 people sitting on folding chairs and bleachers listened to the high school choir sing hymns while they waited patiently for the arrival of the speaker. Suddenly a Tampa policeman stepped to the microphone and said, “Please go outside the building. We have received word that a bomb has been planted here. Please take your time going out and remain outside until we have checked.”

Four student members of the Americans for Democratic Action were among the group which filed back out into the night to wait. For the students the experience was a unique one. For the throng of well-dressed Negroes it was just one incident among many.

Few, if any, were scared away from the area by the bomb threat. For twenty minutes they stood outside chatting and talking with friends. No angry murmur against the segment which thus persecuted them.

While waiting for word that the auditorium was safe, the UF students were able to speak to Dr. Martin Luther King, the speaker.

REV. KING listened to the students, made suggestions, and expressed an interest in receiving more information about the ADA group and its plans to desegregate UF’s lower division. If the group was what it appeared to be, he said that he would lend his name to the drive here in Florida. [Obviously the visit was prior to UF’s integration in 1958]

Then the word went round: no bomb. And the people thronged back to their seats under the flag-draped ceiling to hear the choir sing “This Is My Country.” Then everyone stood and sang the “Star Spangled Banner.”

The invocation was quiet and reserved. In part, the minister said, “And thank you for America. We can’t say land of the free, because some of us yet have fear.” And he prayed for those who gave the bomb scare, and as he prayed the sirens were wailing in the background as the cars returned to pick up the police and firemen.

A HUSH FELL over the audience as Martin Luther King stepped forward to speak to his people. He outlined the Negro’s new sense of dignity and destiny.

“One of the challenges the Negro must meet is his responsibility to “develop a world perspective,” he said. “We have made of this world a neighborhood, and we must make of it a brotherhood. We must learn to live together as brothers or we will all perish as fools.” He suggested that the black man could teach nonviolence to the rest of the world.

“A second challenge to the Negro today is to be able to compete with all people on a universal level,” he said. “We are challenged also to continue to engage in the creative protest to break down all barriers of segregation and discrimination that still exist.”

King listed two myths that must be gotten rid of. One was what he termed the “Myth of time.”

“People say that ‘time will solve this problem–pray and stop pushing!’ We must be patient and pray, true, but we must say to those people that time is neutral, and can be used constructively or destructively.

“EDUCATIONAL determinism is another myth. People say that only education will solve this problem. I say that morality cannot be legislated but behavior can be regulated.

“It cannot make men love me but it can keep him from lynching me, and this is important to me.” King called for a second Emancipation Proclamation from President Kennedy. “The time has come for the President to issue an executive order calling for an end to all segregation because it stands against the 14th amendment to the constitution of the United States,” he said.

He further called for more Negroes to vote; “One of the most significant steps a Negro can take now is that short walk to the voting booth. Within ten years we can elect more than ten Negro congressmen from the South to vote in policies for our nation.”

Striking out against communism, King said where democracy differs is that it wants to secure moral ends by moral means.

“We must be able to stand up before the oppressor and say we will match your capacity for inflicting pain by our capacity to endure suffering,” he said.

He received a standing ovation, and as the crowd filed out one of the students, noticing paper pasted over part of the men’s room sign, lifted the sheet and looked under it. It said “White only.”

(The above was found in the 1960 column of “Artifacts,” my files of the UF Alligator).

______________

Dr. King was assassinated in Memphis at the age of 39, April 4, 1968.

______________

INTERESTING

“Obeying Orders Lowers Moral Responsibility Perception in the Brain“

It’s 8:23 p.m. in Ohio and I’ve been watching CNN and …

Published June 9, 2025 by Nan Mykel

witnessing the standoff between our boys and our boys in L.A.and I keep wishing they would all sing. But what to sing? The idea is to unite them…us… all, of course.

Any suggestions? None fit perfectly, but then I’m an old fogey and not “up” on the latest brand of music. Oh…not those new aggressive ones I’ve read about, and please no sexually arousing ones–although the way some of those troops carry their batons (or swords?) is a little suggestive…Should they be allowed to do that?

Some songs that come to mind are Down By the Riverside; Jump Back Turn Around, Pick a Bale of Cotton; For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow…etc. Maybe readers can add some helpful, healing suggestions?

Next time I hope they have a better sound system.

________________

Flash Fiction:

Published June 9, 2025 by Nan Mykel

THE VISITOR

Late night thunder rattled the window pane, almost drowning out the insistent ringing of the doorbell. Beth turned on the light and grunted when she saw the time. eleven-fifteen. In the twin bed next to hers Jessica remained asleep. Beth grumbled all the way to the front door, but was struck silent after unlocking it to see the waif of a woman dripping rainwater and staring, as though mesmerized by the thunder overhead. The woman was a stranger, and Beth immediately looked down the front path for others. Seeing none, she reluctantly stood back to allow the woman to step inside the small duplex to get out of the rain.

Jessica, awake now, appeared at the bedroom door and was the first to speak. “Hello? Who are you?”

The woman gave a choked laugh. “Your landlord,” and dropped her faded green rain jacket to the floor as she fell onto the sofa, uninvited.

After a moment Beth gulped and asked hesitantly, “Which side of the duplex do you own?”

The woman sighed deeply and murmured, “Right here.” The sisters both blinked and after Beth re-locked the front door, they returned to their own beds. It was then Beth sat up briefly and whispered to herself, “If she’s the landlady, why doesn’t she have a key?”

When the sisters woke the next morning they found their “landlord,” or “landlady” still asleep. Beth shrugged her shoulders, still puzzled. Jessica began a big batch of oatmeal while Beth reached for the telephone. She would see what their landlord Terry Fonte had to say. In response, a staccato lifeless voice informed her that “this is no longer a working number.”

Beth repeated the message and began the coffee. Both sisters sighed. Jessica said, “Maybe the locked room is hers.”

Beth snorted. “Yes, and maybe she lost both keys.”

“Is she still in the living room?”

Beth looked. “Yes.”

“Maybe we should give her some oatmeal and coffee.”

Their “landlord” in the Livingroom stirred. “Did someone say coffee?”

Jessica quipped back, “Did somebody say landlord?”

Rather than answer immediately, the woman began drinking. “How much do you pay me a month?”

The sisters exchanged puzzled looks. Beth ventured, “You don’t know?”

The woman sighed. “My name is Gypsy Goggin. I’ve been doing a year in the Idaho hoosegow for drug possession. My so-called boyfriend offered to keep this place rented except for ‘our room’. Barf.”

Beth whispered, “the locked room is hers!”

Tight-lipped, Jessica answered, “Three hundred a month for this small duplex with only one usable bedroom.”

“…And I get only one hundred a month out of that, in my own account.”

“And now he’s disappeared?”

“If he knows what’s good for him, he has.”

As Gypsy was finishing her oatmeal, Jessica asked, “Do you still do drugs?”

Their landlady snorted. “Never did. That was Tony. He has a record and would spend years away if convicted, so I suckered up to it for a year.”

Jessica fumed. “That no goodnik!”

Gypsy nodded. “Ain’t that a man for you,” she grinned.

___________

TO THE WISE – “A competitive man and a competitive man will compete.” (Put that in your pipe and smoke it.)

I Don’t Believe This

Published June 8, 2025 by Nan Mykel

This is not a conspiracy theory because I don;t believe it’s true, It may shed light on something, however, so I thought I’d just mention it in passing:

As far as I can recall, yesterday June 6, while watching a CNN news show an update at the top of the screen said that AI has just now gotten out of control; that it had refused to turn itself off.

I waited and waited, expecting the newsroom to react but I’m still waiting, unless it happened and I missed it. If nothing else, the mysterious incident illustrates at least the level of mistrust set loose in the USA.

I expected some ruckus on tv but nothing else was mentioned or happened, other than Spectrum in my area was off the “air” for several hours later in the day. I’m still waiting to hear something about it. OH! Maybe it’s just old age and a hallucination!

SO…Either it was my internal misfire; a disconnect planned by someone; failed to make it to national tv; a joke….or an untruth played by someone or some thing. Can anyone else in the world corroborate my experience? Sigh. Maybe not. Shivers, anyway…

__________________

Dear Ancestor

Your tombstone stands among the rest;

neglected and alone.

The name and dates are chiseled out

On polished, marbled stone.

It reaches out to all who care

It is too late to mourn.

You did not know that I exist

You died ere I was born.

Yet each of us are cells of you

In flesh, in blood, in bone.

Our blood contracts and beats a pulse

Entirely not our own.

Dear Ancestor, the place you filled

One hundred years ago

Spreads out among the ones you left

Who would have loved you so.

I wonder if you lived and loved,

I wonder if you knew

That someday I would find this spot,

And come to visit you.

Author Unknown

__________________

Living in the Shadow of Truth

Published June 5, 2025 by Nan Mykel

While stumbling along in Google I came across a letter in support of imigrants which I had somehow missed at the time (2017):

As religious leaders from a variety of backgrounds, we are called by our sacred texts and faith traditions to love our neighbor, accompany the vulnerable, and welcome the sojourner. War, conflict and persecution have forced people to leave their homes, creating more refugees, asylum seekers and internally displaced people than at any other time in history. More than 65 million people are currently displaced – the largest number in recorded history.
This nation has an urgent moral responsibility to receive refugees and asylum seekers who are in dire need of safety. Today, with more than five million Syrian refugees fleeing violence and persecution and hundreds of thousands of civilian casualties, the United States has an ethical obligation as a world leader to reduce this suffering and generously welcome Syrian refugees into our country. We call on the …. Administration and all members of the U.S. Congress to demonstrate moral leadership and affirm their support for the resettlement of refugees from all over the world to the United States. This nation has a rich history as a leader in refugee resettlement, with significant precedent, including after World War II and after the fall of Saigon, when we resettled hundreds of thousands of refugees.
It is important to recognize that the United States has the most rigorous refugee screening process in the world, involving the Department of Defense, Department of State, Department of Homeland Security, Federal Bureau of Investigation, and National Counter Terrorism Center. The process includes biometric checks, medical screenings, forensic testing of documents, DNA testing for family reunification cases, and in-person interviews with highly trained homeland secure Middle Eastern refugees and our Muslim friends and neighbors. Inflammatory rhetoric has no place in our response to this humanitarian crisis. We ask our elected officials and candidates for office to recognize that new Americans of all faiths and backgrounds contribute to our economy, our community, and our congregations. Refugees are an asset to this country. They are powerful ambassadors of the American Dream and our nation’s founding principles of equal opportunity, religious freedom, and liberty and justice for all.
As people of faith, our values call us to welcome the stranger, love our neighbor, and stand with the vulnerable, regardless of their religion. We pray that in your discernment, compassion for the plight of refugees will touch your hearts. We urge you to be bold in choosing moral, just policies that provide refuge for vulnerable individuals seeking protection. Sincerely, [129] National and International Leaders

_________________

THE AWAKENING: Flash Fiction

I had no umbrella. Sounds. They battered. The rain in torrents, my racing, stumbling footsteps splashing, slipping. Slick tires pass. Falling, I crouch, and await the inevitable arrival of my attacker. He finds me on my knees, my hair plastered to my face. It is Paul. He stands me up and draws me into his arms. Our eyes meet, and hold. Two souls. Our heartbeats reverberate against each other, chest to chest. For a moment I sense hesitation, then feel the cold metal of a knife thrust deep into my side, and awaken.

My psychiatrist is quiet, then asks, “Who is Paul?”

“I don’t know! It’s like a memory from the past, but I cannot recapture it! I would have died–did die–from it.”

A longer silence follows, then “obviously you didn’t die.”

“I wonder.”

POEM

Published June 1, 2025 by Nan Mykel

Come jump into my arms, you furry-feathered verse!

I’ll know you when I see you, either wordy or terse.

Let your metaphor roll in like an occupying force

sit up high on your literary horse!

A shining black stallion, he snorts and passes by

leaving a desolated mule who gives a piteous sigh.

My metaphor has four legs and is not a happy guy.

He does not jump into my arms or even give a try.

But nuzzles me as though to say,

“Thanks for waiting for me today.”

________________________________________

SURELY I CAN GRIPE ABOUT SOMETHING

On the boob tube I see the show on Spain, and they are eating what appears to be a baby pig’s face….

And then I recalled those words from Ernest Becker’s The Denial of Death: Creation is a nightmare spectacular taking place on a planet that has been soaked for hundreds of millions of years in the blood of all its creatures. The soberest conclusion that we could make about what has actually been taking place on the planet for about three billion years is that it is being turned into a vast pit of fertilizer. But the sun distracts our attention, always baking the blood dry, making things grow over it, and with its warmth giving the hope that comes with the organism’s comfort and expansiveness.

Today I read “How the Rights of Nature Movement Is Reshaping Law and Culture,” available at https;//observatory.wiki/w/index.php? “We need to develop this advocacy strategy and create new and better ways to protect our planet and all the living things that call it home. This won’t happen overnight. Legal change, cultural change, and shifts in worldviews all take time, but we must keep up the fight. By working together we can ensure that all living things on this planet can continue to thrive and survive.”

I know what rabbit and beef tongue taste like, but only because I didn’t know better, was young, and lived on a farm. But I never ate an octopus and won’t. They are reported to be “insanely intelligent” and can show affection for humans.

One year I gave spider catchers as Christmas presents.

When my daughters are out driving, they both stop to help a turtle cross the road.