"That belongs in a museum"

I've been trying, on and off, for more than a decade to find a new home for this behemoth Emergency Resource Management Plan. Joan and I acquired it in a bulk lot of used books circa 2010.

As I wrote 13 years ago on this blog:

In 1967, two years after the end of his second (nonconsecutive) term as Delaware's governor and less than five years after the Cuban Missile Crisis, Elbert Nostrand Carvel received this 2½-inch-thick, six-pound blue binder from the state's Office of Emergency Planning. It begins with a letter indicating: "The State of Delaware has developed a plan for the assessment and management of its resources in the event of an emergency caused by a nuclear attack on this country." 

There are tabbed sections on Construction and Housing; Economic Stabilization; Food; Health and Water; Industrial Production; Manpower; Petroleum, Gas and Solid Fuels; Transportation; and Electric Power.

I'm dubious about how helpful all of this planning would have been following a full-scale nuclear war between the United States and the Soviet Union. And now it's just a relic. A six-pound doorstop that encapsulates a moment of state-level planning during the Cold War. A monument to the folly of believing there would be survivability in armageddon.

But an important monument. It's history, and I think it's crucial that it be preserved. So I hauled it from house to house during two different moves. We had it in our Dover Antique Mall vending space at one point, but there were no takers. And I've listed it online several times without getting any bites. Finally, I gave it another go on eBay — and there was a taker.

It's going to a museum!

This is the greatest possible outcome. The historic blue behemoth now belongs to the National Museum of Civil Defense, located at Randolph Air Force Base in central Texas. 

The nonprofit museum was formed in 2020 and, in the short time since then, according to its website, it "has grown into an organization with the largest known Collection of related artifacts and archival materials. The NMCD connects with the public through online and social media presence, related conferences, oral history interviews, and artifact preservation." The museum does not have a permanent brick-and-mortar location yet, but is planning toward that end. In the meantime, interested researchers can make arrangements to view the collection.

This is how those who operate the museum describe U.S. civil defense history:

"Civil Defense is defined as 'plans or activities organized by civilians and civilian authorities for the protection of civilian population and property in times of such disasters or emergencies as war or floods.' The United States has had some form of a Civil Defense program since the formation of the Office of Civilian Defense in 1941. Since then, the focus, size, scope, and visibility of the program has ebbed and flowed with the changing geopolitical tides.  Tied to developments in strategic nuclear weapons, missiles, and even spy satellites ​— it endured name changes to 'Civil Preparedness' and later 'Emergency Management.' Throughout this time, thousands of men and women (both paid employees and volunteers) at the federal, state, and local government dedicated themselves to the goal of protecting the public against catastrophe.

​"Today, Civil Defense is often seen in the public eye as a curiosity — generally associated with the early Cold War. Too often, the prevailing historical perspective on Civil Defense is less than a superficial footnote. It is the utmost goal of our organization to preserve this history in a way that reflects the dignity and urgency of the program, and the people who created and dedicated their lives to it. The Museum believes that there are many stories remaining to be told."

And now the story of Delaware's state-level emergency planning in the late 1960s can be told with more detail, too. I'm thrilled to have helped in a tiny way to make this possible. 

1924 advertisement: "Heaney's Great Milk Can Escape"

From 101 years ago, here's a catalog entry for Heaney's Great Milk Can Escape from 1924's Heaney Magic Company Catalogue No. 25. Per Wikipedia, Gerald Heaney (1899-1974) was a stage musician and magic props supplier from Berlin, Wisconsin. He started a mail-order business for tricks, props and other magician supplies in the early 1920s. 

A profile of Heaney by Pat Fitzpatrick in the October 31, 1965, issue of The Post-Crescent of Appleton, Wisconsin, states: "In the early years Heaney built numerous escapes used by himself and his wife in the shows. Many times during the past four decades, Princess Aloiv [his wife, Viola McCarthy] has floated through the air, under the showman's hypnotic powers. An accomplished musician, she plays the organ during performances, and records music for playback in the course of the show. Heaney has had many assistants over the years. The principal requirement for girls working in mysteries is that they must be small enough to fit into the Chinese torture wheel and the vivisection illusion."

Heaney's Great Milk Can Escape states, in part: "Looks impossible and it seems as if the performer will meet his fate in the padlocked can. The large can is filled with water and the performer enters in a bathing sit, a screen is drawn and the assistants stand outside with hatchets and watches in their hands, knowing the over four or five minutes in the water filled can would mean a drowning death. The escape is made in a very short space of time and the can is found to be as secure as before the escape. Our Milk Cans are of the best material and labor. They cannot be duplicated. ... Can be performed by anyone."

The cost was $30.

That's more than $560 today! Being a magician was costly, and the secrets were expensive!