The years 1957 to 1963 have been described as the heyday of emergency measures and civil defence planning across Canada.
With increasing international tension exacerbated by the advent of hydrogen bombs, long-range bombers and intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBM), civil defence planners across Canada understood that a potential attack by the Soviet Union would come with limited warning.
Under Prime Minister John Diefenbaker emergency measures planning expanded exponentially. It became centralized under the Emergency Measures Organization (EMO), which focused on continuity of government, and the co-ordination of civil defence efforts. In 1959, the Civil Defence Order was passed, giving the Canadian military broad responsibilities for constructing and maintaining adequate emergency warning facilities across the country.
On the first day of February 1961, the United States tested its first ICBM, three and a half years after the Soviet Union launched the world’s first ICBM in August 1957. With the potential to deliver the newly developed hydrogen bomb to targets that were thousands of miles away, the threat of bringing nuclear warfare to our doorstep was now a reality.
Here at home, in late February 1961, Velma Donegan, the co-ordinator of the Sudbury EMO began giving lectures to interested residents about personal protection from radioactive fallout. As the Cold War was ramping up, the EMO was anxious to educate the general public on fallout and shelters.
The concept of home fallout shelters was already causing considerable consternation with many people even as the push to have the general population erect them was in its infancy. As seen in a local editorial published in mid-March 1961.
“In the past two weeks there has been some discussion on the much-touted home shelters. The question was asked: What happens if I have a shelter and my neighbors try to get in? The answer was grim: Stand them off with a shotgun, if necessary …,” the editorial read.
“How many would even reach the hideaway? The warning period would be but a few short minutes. Even in Sudbury there would be no time to return from work to reach the home shelter. Nor would children have time to leave the schools and reach their homes if Sudbury was the target of the enemy.”
Cold War comes home
One week after this editorial was published, Velma Donegan announced that the city soon would be graced with the presence of its own set of three high-powered emergency civil defence sirens. Their 10-horsepower motors would drive the sirens and also turn the sirens on their platforms in a full 360 degrees rotation.
Donegan added that they were being supplied by the Department of National Defence as part of a national municipal warning system. As a result of sound surveys taken around the city, it was decided to erect the three sirens in the following locations: at the corner of Notre Dame Avenue and Vercheres Street, the corner of Horobin and Cressey Streets, and near Poplar and Balsam Streets in Copper Cliff.
On April 20, 1961, the first warning siren (weighing 300 pounds and costing approximately $2,250 each) was installed on a 30-foot standard by the Royal Canadian Engineers.
Unfortunately, the public (and the media) was plagued with doubts on the effectiveness of these sirens, as reported in an editorial published just five days after the installation of the first siren.
“People may be forgiven for comparing their usefulness to shooting at the moon with a pea-shooter… . Any country that can hit the moon with rockets, or send a five-ton spaceship hurtling through space at 17,000 miles an hour, can have a missile ‘on target’ almost before … the action of pressing the air raid siren button,” it read.
“And if Sudbury is the target? … Where do the people go if they do hear the sirens? … They certainly cannot head for non-existent fallout shelters. Maybe some use will be found for the sirens. Such as frightening away starlings?”
It wouldn’t take long to gauge the real-world potential for these sirens to warn residents of impending danger. It was announced, four days in advance, that on April 29, 1961 at 10 a.m., Sudbury’s new civil defence sirens would sound for the very first time.
As they would in case of an actual attack, the three sirens would go on at the push of a button at the city’s police station. When the button was pressed, the sirens would emit a loud constant note signalling (at least theoretically) that an attack somewhere on the continent had begun. Three minutes after that, the sirens would switch to a wailing sound (known as the “take cover” signal) reminiscent of the standard air raid sirens heard during the Second World War (such as during the blitz on London).
About 260 people, including volunteers and members of the armed forces would be stationed throughout the city to report on the audibility of the sirens. “We have reason to believe there will be areas where the sirens will not be heard loudly enough,” reported an official of the national survival headquarters.
Based on post-test reports from around the city, a map would be compiled to show the approximate range of each siren. Where necessary, smaller five-horsepower sirens would then be located to fill in the “dead” areas.
After the test was complete, local reporters headed out to gauge the reaction of residents. Here are a few of the responses received, and as you can see, the results were mixed.
Adolphe Ritchie: "I heard it but it wasn't loud. I had to pay attention. I wouldn't have recognized it if I hadn't expected it.”
Mrs. Robert A. Dixon: “When I went outside I could hear it faintly. If a car went by, I wouldn't be able to hear it.”
Mrs. Anthony Wilk: "I was waiting to hear the siren, but I didn't hear a thing.”
According to Capt. C. M. Grant, EMO Co-ordinator from Canadian Army Central Command, a preliminary study of the reports of the 140 observers indicated disappointing results. The reports were plotted on a map which was then forwarded to a sound engineer for analysis.
“It was never believed that the three ten-horsepower sirens would provide adequate coverage,” Capt. Grant said, “and the test has clearly pointed out areas in which corrective action must be taken.”
Get yourself a fallout shelter
At an EMO meeting in March 1961, Mrs. E.M. Nettleton, of the provincial emergency measures staff, told those in attendance that the basement shelter was considered the best protection for residents against nuclear attack.
This statement was made in response to an idea put forward by a nearby EMO. Garth Brillinger, co-ordinator of the Timmins EMO, was investigating potentially providing shelter in Porcupine area mines in the event of a nuclear attack. “The scheme is still in the theoretical stage, but we feel there is adequate space in the mines to handle more than 100,000 people if necessary," said Brillinger.
Unfortunately, Sudbury EMO coordinator, Velma Donegan said that this plan had already been considered and had been found completely impractical. She said the matter had been taken up with experts from INCO, who pointed out a number of objections to the scheme, the principal ones being the difficulty of getting the people into the mines and providing adequate amounts of fresh air.
By the end of Summer 1961, deputy building inspector R. J. Bowen stated that he had received no inquiries for construction of basement fallout shelters. Due to this lack of interest, Mayor Bill Edgar announced that he would be seeking approval to spend approximately $600 to build a temporary fallout shelter to stimulate public interest. Edgar was also mulling over the idea of revising city building bylaws to enforce the provision of fallout shelters in all new constructions.
Though the mayor considered a direct atomic bomb attack on Sudbury unlikely, the city's greatest danger was thought to be from fallout from three directions: the Sault (with its locks), North Bay (with its Bomarc installation) and Toronto. The city's danger would depend, literally, on the way the wind blows, stated Mayor Edgar.
In the end, after city council decided (by a mere 7-6 voting margin) to move forward with the mayor’s plan, the shelter was built at the old Pawson vehicle showroom (150 Durham Street South).
When asked if he was considering a shelter for his own home, Edgar responded, "Yes, I am considering it, but I have not made up my mind yet."
It didn’t take long for Edgar to make up his mind. Just one day after Toronto Mayor Nathan Phillips announced that he would be building a fallout shelter in the basement of his home, Edgar said that he planned to turn the basement of his home into a fallout shelter.
As the EMO shifted focus to their demonstration shelter, unexpected by all, their warning sirens caused a little trouble for residents. On August 28, 1961, the sirens on Notre Dame Ave., and at Copper Cliff went off unexpectedly at 3:50 p.m. Assistant co-ordinator Tom Pickard stated that the alarm was caused by faulty wiring but was soon remedied. He added that while several people called to report the incidents, there was no panic and most of the calls were of an informative nature.
While the city’s EMO wrapped up preparations to build the sample fallout shelter, residents were interviewed to gauge their feelings on the matter. Unfortunately, the majority of residents didn’t seem interested in building basement fallout shelters. Most felt that such shelters were not worth the effort since a bomb attack would be so devastating as to make home shelters useless. “No, I wouldn't build one,” said Jack Henderson. “I'm going to take my chances along with everyone else. If a bomb does go off, everything is contaminated anyway so why should I want to survive. I'll die later anyway.”
Unfortunately, as September ended, Sudbury’s EMO was found to have committed what was nicely described as a technical "indiscretion" since it failed to obtain a building permit to erect their demonstration fallout shelter.
On Halloween 1961, one day after the Soviet Union detonated a 58-megaton hydrogen bomb known as “Tsar Bomba” (which remains the largest ever man-made explosion), people’s perceptions of the imminent danger in the air began to change.
In an editorial titled “Sudbury Is NOT Target Area?”, the question was asked and answered, “What constitutes a target area during war?”
“The statement has been repeated time after time that Sudbury is not considered to be a target area in the event of war … . We don't believe that Hiroshima and Nagasaki were considered to be target areas either until the first atomic bombs were dropped.
“We can see the Russians aiming for the air force and missile base at North Bay and missing the target by as much as 80 miles. If the ‘miss’ is to the west, Sudbury is on the receiving end.
Furthermore, the Sudbury Basin has a world-wide reputation for producing minerals necessary to build armaments. If we are within striking distance of the enemy we can expect to be on the receiving end of weapons of destruction.”
The rise in radioactive fallout counts since Russia resumed nuclear tests sparked a sharp rise in the interest of Sudbury citizens toward fallout shelters. The shelter received approximately 700 visitors in the span of a week who were interested in the model and the pamphlets available depicting safety measures to be taken in case of an attack.
"Our phone has been ringing steadily,” EMO co-ordinator Velma Donegan said at the time, "with people asking for information on building plans, pamphlets available, and other general information on what it's all about."
By early January 1962, the Army engineers had finally sorted out the issues with the audibility of sirens placed around the city. Unfortunately, a request from the Department of National Defence to place warning sirens at three schools was turned down by the Sudbury Public School Board.
The board adopted a resolution rejecting the request on the grounds "that, at this time, we are not convinced there are not more suitable locations in the city." The department had requested permission to install sirens on Gatchell and McCrea public school buildings and on a standard at Prince Charles Public School.
On the flip side, the Sudbury Separate School Board offered no objections to a similar request to install a siren on high ground at St. Remi School. Velma Donegan added that the local EMO has no say in the matter, although it was aware of the proposed sites of the additional 16 sirens which were in the final plans to provide complete coverage for the city (in the end only 13 would exist).
Thirty years later, in 1990, as the Cold War began to thaw, the sirens remained in place though silent as the federal government investigated new warning systems to replace them. By this time, they were reaching the end of their useful life, as many of them were in a state of disrepair or just downright did not work anymore. Most had become homes to birds and squirrels.
If necessary, the local sirens could still be activated by Sudbury Regional Police for local emergencies. Luckily, the police had no reason to make use of the warning system, said acting Staff Sgt Tapio Paajanen.
“We still have a key to get into it but we don't use it,” Lt. Glenn Chamberlain, National Defence public affairs officer, added. "I don't think there are any plans in particular to do anything with (them).”
In the end, between 1994 and 1996 most of the sirens were removed and destroyed.
Well, dear readers, I don't mean to alarm you, but now it’s your turn to share with us your memories of those dark days when the fears of nuclear horrors were on everyone’s minds. Do you remember the sirens? Did you have drills in school, or presentations to tell you how to protect yourself? Or, maybe you lived in a home with a basement shelter?
Share your memories and/or photos by emailing them to Jason Marcon at [email protected] or the editor at [email protected].
Jason Marcon is a writer and history enthusiast in Greater Sudbury. He runs the Coniston Historical Group and the Sudbury Then and Now Facebook page. Memory Lane is made possible by our Community Leaders Program.
Creative Commons link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:Creative_Commons.