I have absolutely zero sympathy for these people. I was 15 in the fall of 1962, a high school sophomore and a defensive end on the varsity football team. My father pulled me out of football to help him convert a 1700’s stone spring house on our farm into a bomb shelter. Everyone in my father’s circle was certain that the Russians would nuke us and our spread lay about twenty five miles northwest from Center City Philadelphia. Thanks to that f*cking JFK pushing us to the brink, I had not only nightmares but daytime hallucinations of fireballs and mushroom clouds just over the horizon from the second floor east side of our farmhouse. This went on for a few years but over time they ceased to scare me. To this day I fully expect to see at least one fireball and mushroom cloud before I die. I’d rather it be seen on TV over some over-populated area where the Friday people proliferate.
“Thanks to that f*cking JFK pushing us to the brink——”
What do you think he should have done?
.
All these months/years and all she has is maybe a case of water bottles. Yet, she's all worried about her kids. Nope. Sorry. She doesn't give a rat's behind about the safety of her kids.