Duck and Cover

Does anyone remember "Duck and Cover"? I remember practicing my ducking and covering at Ocean View Elementary School during the 1950's. I also recall that there was even a film and catchy jingle that explained what to do in the event of a nuclear attack. "Duck and cover. Duck and cover. Stay down 'till the clouds roll over", or something like that.



It seems to me, however, that with the huge row of windows on one side of the classroom and the lack of cover that the old metal and wood desk provided, "duck and cover" needed a third catch phrase: "pray." I also remember that we used to playfully say, "In the event of a nuclear attack, put your head between your knees, gab your legs with both hands, and kiss your butt good bye."

My fondest "nuclear" recollection, however, was the time that I volunteered to be a victim for a mock nuclear attack. It took place on a Saturday on and around school property and since I only lived a couple of blocks away from the school, I volunteered.

The school was built to serve as an emergency hospital during national and natural disasters, so the Ocean View School setting was very appropriate.

Upon "reporting for duty," I was assigned a tag indicating that I would suffer two broken legs during the attack. Thrilled that I would survive the holocaust, I ran straight for the sand dunes behind the school and climbed the tallest chinquapin tree I could find. There I splayed myself among the boughs...to await my discovery by the rescue team.

To my dismay, my concealment was exposed and I was required to jump from the tree to the sand below. Didn't they know I had two broken legs? Well it was jump or be forgotten. I jumped down. NOW they put me on a stretcher and carried me to the school.

I thought I had it made, chilling with the guys in the evaluation room. Then some big dude popped off a table, came over to me, grabbed my tag, read my tag, and snatched it from around my neck. He handed me his. "You're dead," he said and he was too big and I was too young to argue. Upon the review and evaluation of my premature death by the staff, I was sent upstairs to the morgue while Bluto stayed on the ground floor with his shattered limbs.

I don't recall who was up there with me on the second floor, but I do remember that I knew him and that he was a good friend. We whiled away the rest of the day drawing on the blackboard and making the best of our corporal situation. After a while I tied my tag to my big toe, laid out across some desks, and wondered if the next time I ran into Bluto...would I let him kill me or would I duck and cover and pray?