Public safety at the Airbase

Lincoln's Airpark West is getting a lot of public safety attention lately, as we've opened a new firearms range and training facility, and are about to break ground on a replacement for Fire Station 11, near NW 48th and West Adams Streets. 

One of the most interesting periods in Lincoln’s history was from the early 1950s through the mid 1960s, when the Lincoln Air Force Base served as one of the largest and most important components of the nation’s nuclear shield. Not to forget the importance of the Lincoln Army Airfield’s role in World War II, but during the cold war the stakes were raised even higher. 

Lincoln’s huge airbase was the home of B-47 squadrons on hot alert 24/7/365, loaded with nuclear bombs, ready to roll around the clock during the height of the cold war, including the 13 days in October, 1962, when the world stood on the brink of Armageddon. It is a fascinating part of our history, and one that is rapidly fading.

Today, however, considerable visible evidence of this 15 year window of history remains. The concrete pads on either side of the runway where eight B-47 Stratojet nucler bombers awaited their mission are still there, slowly disintegrating into the earth. The bunkers that held both nuclear warheads and conventional munitions remain, and will probably outlast virtually every evidence of Lincoln’s very existence. Many of the buildings have been demolished, but many remain; including Lincoln Parks & Recreation’s Airpark Recreation Center.

Along Highway 33, between Lincoln and Crete, lies a Nike missile site, which protected the Lincoln airbase from Soviet bombers, and where over 100 soldiers and K-9s worked around the clock to ensure the security of the base, the City, and nearby Atlas Intercontinental Ballistic Missile installations. A companion Nike site north of Lincoln still stands as a daily reminder of these sentinels. The Integrated Fire Control center for the north site is now the campus of Raymond Central High School. 

When I was a student at Rountree Elementary School in Springfield, MO, fire alarm drills were not quite as memorable as the drills we practiced in the event of a nuclear attack: duck under the desk, hands behind the neck, fingers interlocked. A few years later, when the family moved to Lincoln, I had no idea that a significant component of the forces protecting us from this threat, through nuclear deterrence, were right here in my new hometown. 

Out of the ashes

The fire last month that destroyed Ideal Grocery in Lincoln was devastating on several levels. The neighborhood lost a convenient full-service grocery store within walking distance. The City lost a landmark. Lincoln's foodies lost a favorite destination where you could pick up a tin of escargot, a bottle of Veri Veri Teriyaki, and a tube of anchovy paste.

Tonja and I visited Ideal frequently, usually on Saturdays. In addition to the quaint charm of its 1930s vibe, what we really loved about Ideal was the memories it stirred up of  Pete's IGA, the tiny 3-aisle store Tonja's dad owned at 31st and U Street--before he went big time with Wagner's IGA at 33rd and A Street. Both buildings are still there. Wagner's is now the A Street Market, not much changed from the time Pete acquired it in 1976.

I worked for Pete for six years at the little store from the age of 15 until I joined the police department. Tonja worked for her dad for 10 years at the "big" store. Every time we went into Ideal, the memories flooded back.

After the fire, I tweeted about one of the things I'd really miss from Ideal: the small wheeled shopping baskets, a precursor to the modern grocery cart. Many others commiserated on Twitter. But here's a surprise.

I stopped into Leon's at Winthrop Road and South Street yesterday to pick up a steak for the grill, and what did I find but the famous Ideal carts, looking pretty much the same as they did during the Hoover administration.

Our checker told us that she helped wire brush the baskets, which were salvaged from the debris. That's a nice save out of the ashes that many Lincoln citizens will continue to enjoy, and explain to their grand children!

F Street Community Center

My wife and I just saw a commercial on TV this morning for a long-standing Lincoln electronics and appliance business, Schaefer's. They're having an anniversary event, and some photos of past store locations flashed across the screen. Tonja was trying to recollect where the business was originally located. I knew that immediately. It was on the corner of 13th and F Street, where the heavily-modified space still retains some of it's design features, and is now incorporated into Lincoln's F Street Community Center.

Specifically, the old Schaefer's occupied the space on the southwest corner of 13th and F, which would be the northeast corner of today's Community Center building. Interestingly, a little further to the west, an historic Fire Station is also incorporated into the building. The fire station pre-dates Schaefer's by a couple decades, and my guess is that the commercial building on the corner was built to reflect the design of it's neighbor down the block to the west.

There's a nice little Lincoln Police Department substation in the southeast corning of the Community Center, which gets a lot of use. That's why you'll often see police patrol cars in the curb cut on 13th Street.

Not the first time

The Lincoln Police Department and Lincoln Fire & Rescue are planning on co-locating into a joint facility somewhere in southeast Lincoln, where a fire company and the police officers of the Southeast Team will share a station serving both agencies. This project is among those funded by a proposed three year, quarter cent sales tax that will appear on the ballot at the April 7, 2015 City primary election.

These two projects appeared separately in the City's capital improvement program until a couple of years ago, when they were merged. We think that it makes good sense to combine these facilities, in order to save the architectural fees, land acquisition, and infrastructure such as paving, footings, and HVAC which would be necessary for separate facilities. It will also facilitate a good working relationship between LPD and LF&R.

As this description from 1886 demonstrates, it's certainly not the first time the two public safety agencies have shared a common home base (click to enlarge.)

Item identification

I had some fun a couple years ago with a series of posts about unusual artifacts around the police department. Monday night during the Nebraska- Iowa basketball game, I used this tool at home to accomplish a vital task, and it struck me that it was probably the oldest utensil Tonja and I own. I think this vintage Vaughn TapBoy has been in the kitchen drawer since we acquired our first apartment in 1973--maybe even a bit longer. I found an identical example on eBay for $19.99. Mine still works just fine, though. If you want to have a laugh, show this photo to your family and friends under the age of about 35, and see how many can correctly describe the purpose of the pointy end.

Still holds true after 112 years

Long-time readers of my blog have heard me whine from time-to-time about the size of the Lincoln Police Department: smallest per capita in Nebraska, one of the very smallest in our region and nation, getting smaller with each passing year.  Looks like this is nothing new:

Capt. Joy Citta came across a great online archive of 19th and early 20th century newspapers at the Library of Congress website, and passed the link onto me. The May 24, 1902 edition of The Courier has a nice front-page story about the Lincoln Police Department. You can access the full story here.

Before PowerPoint

I used that title once before, but it fits this one quite well, too. I spotted this on a cart going by in the hallway at the police department, on its way to the trash bin. I set up a boatload of these trays during the 1980's for various training classes I was teaching.

How laws are made

One of the ongoing news items this month has been the application of Marcus Theaters for a liquor license at the Grand, their multi-screen downtown movie house. It seems that some people are just becoming aware of a municipal ordinance (5.04 .120) that prohibits people 15 and under from being in a licensed liquor establishment after 9:00 PM, unless accompanied by someone 21 or older.

I don't think we're exactly awash in junior high kids trolling bars in Lincoln. I can only recall a couple of times in the past quarter century where we've needed to pull this ordinance out of the book in response to a problem. Actually, I may have violated it myself as a 15 year-old in the spring of 1969, in the same circumstances as this affair the following year on January 9, 1970--although I suspect Valentino's did not yet hold a liquor license.

Some people wonder why we have such a law in the first place. I have a theory, which I described a few years ago. Do you think the problems of Mrs. Dennis, Mrs. Shaw and mothers in similar circumstances may have gotten a little worse when a few thousand members of the Army Air Forces came to town in 1942?

Officer Hulda Roper (for whom Roper Elementary School is named) would certainly know. She followed Matron Rickard into the police force in 1944. By then, Chief Joe Carroll had replaced the politically-incorrect job title of Matron with the (now) politically-incorrect job title of Policewoman. One night in late October of 1949, Hulda fired up the audience at the First Evangelical United Brethren Church.

Apparently not only brethren were present. City council member Fern Hubbard Orme introduced an ordinance, and the Lincoln Council of Church Women rallied support.

The Public Safety Director, never far from a reporter's notebook, weighed in on the legal nuance concerning the definition of "taverns".

Thus, thereafter the tots were tossed from taverns at 2100.

And that's how laws are made. In 1949, there were a few dozen "beer taverns" and a handful of private bottle clubs in Lincoln. Liquor by the drink inside the city limits didn't come along until the mid 1960s. No one in 1949 would have envisioned that bowling allies, music halls, arcades, family restaurants, airports, hotels, golf courses, and a laundromat would have liquor licenses--much less a sushi place or a motion picture theater. Nor would they have imagined that two high school sophomores would be violating the law by patronizing a pizza parlor after a high school basketball game.

My first visit to a theater with a liquor license was in Dallas several years ago. It had really nice seats, cocktail tables, some decent small-plates, and a nice selection of beers and wine by the glass--quite similar to the Marcus Midtown in Omaha. It seemed a very low-risk drinking environment. As much as I might long for a return to the days when not every single activity demanded alcohol be served, the fact is that we also need more low-risk drinking environments where the alcohol is a small part of the experience, and not the main attraction--as an alternative to Ms. Rickard's poetic description of the aftermath of a binge 65 years ago, that hasn't changed much since:

"Did succeed in getting her to erp in the toilet. Oh my, I didn't want the lunch I had brought. My lungs are filled with the smell of foulness and liquor. I sure need a cigarette, but am out of them. These night drunks are awful." 

A pair of memories

A few weeks ago, I blogged about the passing of a women well-known in the rather small circle of Lincoln's public officials and their staffs: Lois Neuman. Lois lived alone during her adult life in Lincoln, and had some idiosyncratic behaviors that were rather, shall we say, not the norm. Basically, she had no inhibitions at all about injecting herself into situations and conversations that most people would perceive as ill-timed, if not completely inappropriate.

If you think of Dustin Hoffman in Rainman, crossed with Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump, you'll get a little insight into an interaction with Lois. Her conduct was both endearing and annoying, and while you might want to avoid her, you felt compelled to engage her--and often regretted doing so a half hour later. Lois was Lois. She died quietly and her passing almost escaped attention.

Tammy Ward, a long-time staffer of Governor and Senator Ben Nelson, however, was Lois's guardian  as the end of her life neared, and in an incredible act of generosity and love, organized a memorial tribute to Lois, held on Monday evening. I was one of about 100 people in attendance, in a room dotted with past and present public officials, public figures, and friends.

I had the opportunity along with several others to share some memories of Lois and her antics. Tammy did too, and produced a basket of some of her favorite momentos she discovered in

November 22, 1963

I was a fifth grader at Rountree Elementary School in Springfield, Missouri, in Miss Luna's class on the second floor, when we learned that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated. My primary recollection was my young teacher in tears. We watched television for the remainder of the afternoon.

Three days later, we watched the funeral. I recall watching Caroline and John, thinking that they were the same age as my younger sisters. Even as a ten year old, I was intrigued by the history of the riderless horse with empty boots backwards in the stirrups, and the caisson following, carrying the President's casket.

In my adult years, I visited President Kennedy's grave at Arlington National Cemetery twice, and also Dealey Plaza in Dallas, the site of the assassination. Standing at these locations causes a flood of memories and a wave of emotion, even for someone who was just a child at the time of these momentous events.

No one of my generation will ever forget precisely where they were on the afternoon of November 22, 1963, and on the morning of September 11, 2001.

Paul Shively family

I'm hoping today's post gets picked up by someone in the family of Capt. Paul Shively, who served the Lincoln Police Department from 1923 to 1955.  A comment was left a few weeks ago on another post from someone who said he was Capt. Shively's grandson, so maybe he has a Google Alert set on the name.

I would like to find Paul's family because the owner of this remarkable firearm has contacted me. He is going to auction this rare revolver, but would prefer to see it go to a family member. I have checked this person out, and I am convinced he is legitimate.

It would certainly be nice to see Capt. Shively's custom Colt (ordered from Lawlor's Sporting Goods, no less) in a shadow box on his grandson's mantle. If there is anything to do to facilitate putting these two in touch, I would love to do so.

Lincoln Fire & Rescue museum

Everyone in my family can testify that I love museums, and rarely pass a roadside historical marker.  I have annoyed them on more occasions than you can imagine, poring over some exhibit while everyone else in the family was rolling their eyes and hoping we could move along to something like dinner, or the rest of the vacation.

Although I love the Smithsonian, the Nebraska Historical Museum, the Nelson, the Joslyn, the Art Institute, and so forth, my favorites are smaller little places: county museums, corners of local libraries, and so forth that I occasionally discover off the beaten track.  There are a few little-known collections in Lincoln that I am particularly partial to, one of which is the museum at Lincoln Fire & Rescue Station 1, located at 1801 Q Street.   

A few years ago, Chief John Huff orchestrated an effort to clean out the closet, reorganizing the collection of artifacts in a back room at LF&R HQ.  The room was transformed from something akin the junk drawer in my garage into a top-notch little museum, that every LF&R employee can truly be proud of.  

It is a fascinating collection of equipment, memorabilia, documents, and photos spanning about 130 years of Lincoln's history.  The museum is suitable for all ages and can accommodate all but the largest groups. We invite the public to visit, and all we need is an advance phone call to make arrangements, so we can be certain have someone available to host.  

Car vs. building

Last Thursday morning I was listening to KLIN radio.  Jack Mitchell and Dave Miller, the morning show hosts, were yucking it up over this accident, in which a disoriented driver turned a pizza restaurant into a drive through--even placing his order from the front seat after the crash.

Mr. Mitchell has a fascination with car/building crashes, and every time one of these hits the news, he launches into a monologue claiming that Lincoln drivers smash into buildings more than anywhere else on earth.  Thursday, he announced that he had started a Google Docs spreadsheet of these recent crashes, and he invited listeners to edit his work. In a rather short time, several additions were contributed, as people recollected crashes from the past, and in some cases even found links to related news stories.

I was pretty impressed at Jack's concept of a crowd-sourced spreadsheet, but I also knew that it would be woefully incomplete, since it is based on what contributors recall, and what a web search of news items returns. A tiny percentage of these crashes would ever make the paper or the newscast. I, on the other hand, have millions of records of police dispatches, and anyone who knows me or reads the Director's Desk for any length of time realizes that I am a database geek.  This was a challenge!

So while the coffee was brewing, I searched the past five years' crashes.  There is no data field that identifies car/building crashes, however, as these are included in the broader category of fixed object collisions.  My work around was to look at the "remarks" field in the traffic crash dispatch records.  This is the field containing the free-form shorthand comments keystroked by dispatchers at the time a call is received. I searched for three keywords: "house," "garage," and "building."

The search returned about 450 candidates, and I scanned through the table to identify and remove the false positives: cases that weren't really car building accidents, but in which the remarks field contained one of the keywords.  The net result was 196.  This is probably not entirely accurate, as my ten-minute search and scan likely missed a few false positives, and there would also be a few false negatives: actual car/building crashes in which none of those keywords appeared in the dispatch record.

Nonetheless, I think we can safely conclude that there have been around a couple hundred motor vehicle vs. building crashes that have come to the attention of the police in the past five years.  The big surprise, Jack, is that you've got way more of these than you ever dreamed in your wildest imagination.  The bad news is that your theory that Lincoln driver's smack brick more than anywhere else is completely without any basis.  Since Lincoln has a relatively low accident rate, it is likely that the subset of car v. building crashes is also low. No one has comparative data on such things, and there is no way to know how many buildings get creamed in Lubbock, Louisville, Laredo, or Lexington--only in Lincoln.

My favorite car building crash occurred sometime in the late 1970's or early 80's, when a reckless driver left the roadway and collided with the Fotomat in the parking lot of the Safeway at 23rd and O Street--now an Office Max store.  I wasn't a witness, but legend has it that the building virtually exploded. Luckily, it was after hours and unoccupied.  If you are under the age of 40, you'll probably need to find someone a little older to explain what a Fotomat was.

Nothing is really new

A few weeks ago Lincoln Fire & Rescue installed a video recording system in BAT 1, the battalion chief's vehicle.  The camera can both stream and record video from fire scenes.  If properly positioned, the camera will capture some footage (are their "feet" in digital video?) from fire grounds that will nice for situational awareness for other units, after-action review, and training.  

Battalion Chief Bruce Sellon, however, discovered evidence that the dash cam isn't really a new concept, when he found this video of Fire Chief John Kenlon from the Brooklyn Fire Department responding to an alarm.

 

Looks like the problem of motorists failing to yield the right of way to an emergency vehicle isn't new, either.  Note that the driver jumps up onto the sidewalk, to avoid congestion on the street, he has a few close encounters with pedestrians.  Too bad he didn't have the Binford 5000 bell.

Item identification

I thought we might continue this small series concerning items likely to be forgotten in the mist of time.  Anyone recognize this stand, holding up the plant in Jackie's office at HQ?

Early adopter

These days, it seems that everyone has a smartphone.  I recently read that 37% of the cell phone market consists of smartphones today, and that it is now a more popular personal computing device than the computer itself.  It hasn't been that long ago that I could flip up the antenna on my Palm VII, connect to the Internet, and impress every other geek in the room.  Clair Lindquist, our Information Technology manager, has a knack for recognizing and preserving future collectibles.  He is the keeper of the stack of now-obsolete smartphones, which someone in a future generation may appreciate as much as the typewriter.

Clair's collection includes that Palm VII (technically not a phone, but a wireless Internet device), a Kyocera 7035, an HTC, and a Samsung Omnia, all of which rode in my pocket or clipped to my belt.  There is at least one missing from the pile: the orginal Motorola Droid.  I think my smart phone habit dates to about 1999, but I was using handheld devices considerably earlier.

Remembering Craig

This is Police Week, so declared by President John F. Kennedy in 1962.  Peace Officers Memorial Day is on May 15 each year, and was marked by a ceremony on the steps of the Hall of Justice and Law Enforcement Center on Tuesday.  Today, the Lancaster County Sheriff's Office is holding a ground breaking ceremony to dedicate Craig Dodge Memorial Park at 421 Main Street in Hickman, NE.  This is the location where Deputy Craig D. Dodge was killed on March 14, 1987.  Craig was the last law enforcement officer in Lancaster County and Lincoln to be killed in the line of duty.

It is hard to believe that 25 years have passed since Craig's death.  At the time, I was the newly-appointed Chief Deputy Sheriff of Lancaster County, 33 years old.  Around 5:30 AM that morning, I was called at home by a dispatcher, and was one of the first arriving deputies at the scene.  I was ill-prepared for the intensity of the days that followed, as our relatively small agency managed a murder investigation, a media spectacle, a huge funeral, and our own emotions, while trying to care for the needs of Craig's family as best we could.

Craig was killed at the door of Apt. 9, down a long hallway on the second floor of the old Hickman School, which had been converted to apartments.  The building was razed a few years ago, and will now be the site of a city park named in Craig's honor. The Sheriff's Office is planning a memorial in the park in remembrance of deputies who have died in the line of duty. I expect it will be a nice spot for quiet contemplation, and I commend the deputies and employees who are working on this project.

Signs of the apocalypse

Never thought I'd see the day that a stack of IBM Selectric typewriters was relegated to the surplus heap at LPD, but I snapped this picture in the equipment room at the Center Team's station at 27th and Holdrege yesterday morning.  Apparently someone doesn't realize that these are National treasures. What is the world coming to?

The Russian Inn

Sunday afternoon, Tonja and I were enjoying lunch at one of our favorite local eateries, Lazlo's.  We were seated in the bar, watching the Nebraska vs. Minnesota basketball game.  Several commercials for Russell Stover candies came on during the game. I remarked to Tonja that Stover's was an appropriate sponsor, since we were seated right next door to the factory.

Alas, Lincoln's Russell Stover plant next door closed more than 30 years ago.  Tonja remembers it quite well though, because her mom worked the chocolate packing line.  During her sophomore year (when we started dating), she dropped her mom off at work at Stover's, dropped her dad off at Pete's IGA, took her little sister to Culler Junior High, then drove herself to Northeast High School.  Hard to believe, but less than a generation ago a nice family of four with a successful small business pretty typically shared a single car, which fit neatly into one-wide driveway and a single stall garage in a suburban ranch style.

As we were reflecting on this, I also mentioned that our perch in Lazlo's was actually inside the Russian Inn, which was about the only place a foot patrol officer assigned to Beat 1 on third shift could dine during my rookie year on the police force.  Tonja knew we were in the Russian Inn, the same spot her mom had her lunch break.  So, here's my question: anyone else out there (other than this poet) who remembers the Russian Inn?

One more round

What is it with roundabouts, that this topic ends up in my posts so often?  Earlier this week I mentioned the weekly "Hometown Quiz" in the newspaper that proposed Lincoln's first roundabout was "near 31st and Pine Lake Road."  Pshaw.  The one the author had in mind is only 10 or 12 years old.  I noted that another roundabout, at 16th and Centerpark Road had been around for at least 40 years, and that there were probably others in Lincoln's past.

The comments thread took off, with several readers pointing out even older roundabouts, such as this one in Pioneers Park, and these two in the Woodsshire neighborhood. Two readers, Dave and Eric, recalled that a fountain once stood in the middle of 11th and J Street at the turn of the century.  Sometime later in the automobile age it was retired to Antelope Park where it still resides (although no longer as a fountain) on the grounds of the Children's Zoo.  I think we can safely say that the intersection of 11th and J Street was Lincoln's first roundabout, as he fountain would have caused the intersection to function as such, and no instructions were needed.