Going Nuclear in the USA

“So what do you want to do when you grow up?” asked the USAF Recruiter. It was 1963 and I was 17 years old and ready to make the choice. I thought about his question. My mind wondered to dreams of the perfect girl-friend, as I responded, “What Specialty will make me the most $$$$ when I finish my service?” The recruiter instantly responded “You aced the mechanic-electronic-general-admin tests … nuclear weapons specialists average $10,000 per year upon separation.”

Nuclear anything was a magic word for many baby-boomer kids like me. Growing up with the Nuclear Genie [Barbara Eden] and stories of the brilliant nuclear-physicists of the early 50s, I replied “Sign me up!” What could go wrong?

I did not enjoy boot-camp at Lackland, AFB. We were called the “California Flight”, one of the last flights to train in the old WW2 barracks. Drill Sergeant would always rib us “California … where they have fences to keep the fruit from picking the people.”  After boot-camp we went, by train, north to Denver. I remember going to sleep on-board and looking out at the Panhandle. Nothing but flat as far as my eye could see and when I woke-up the view was the same. I was assigned to Lowry AFB for tech-school over the winter months. It was cold. I don’t like to be cold!

Every morning we were up at 04:00 hours for a one hour march in the snow before breakfast and classes at 06:00 hours. I found a work-around by volunteering as “Latrine Queen” which meant that, instead of marching, I had to spend 5 minutes cleaning up the head and then got myself a coke and a Marlboro while I watched the “smackers” parading through the snow in their long wool jackets.  

I fell in lust with a 21 year old nurse named Rhonnie and lost my virginity.My dad delivered my brand new 1973 Pontiac Tempest Le-Mans. It was Candy Apple Red. I spent much of my free-time polishing it in City Park. Life was sweet until I got to the eighth-block. I was wrenching on a dummy 25 megaton [at least that’s what I was told it was] bomb the size of a small school bus. Somebody popped in the door and yelled “Hey Kiger. You got your assignment. "You’re going to Bangor, Maine." My mind raced to the picture of me freezing in Bangor. I dropped the wrench in the dummy. In the weeks that followed my orders were cancelled as I had to retake the block. I was ultimately assigned to Westhampton Beach, Long Island. Any place with beach in the name rung warmly upon my ears.

A great adventure lay ahead. I met my best-friend, Bill, at Lowry and we were both transferred to Suffolk County AFB.  Working on nuclear-weapons is mostly boring work done behind big bunkers with double razor wire fences and police dogs and the same bunch of sub-geniuses every day telling jokes.Social life [code-name-girls] was everywhere in the Hamptons.

Regularly the 52nd Fighter Wing went on alert and we locked-and-loaded Genie rockets on F-101 Voodoo Fighters. I was one of the voodoo-medicine-men :) Life was sweet-sour.

In a pre-dawn "exercise" I was injured while positioning a bomb-lift trailer under the Voodoo.  That event would change the course of my life. Six months of physical therapy and then a Lumbar Laminectomy at St. Alban’s naval hospital found me facing the same question that began this story “What do you want to do when you grow up?” This time I had a more informed viewpoint and chose to become a base-photographer.  I knew very little about photography but when I love-something I become a quick-study. In a year I was NCOIC of the lab, developed a decent portfolio and this accommodation.

USAF 52nd Fighter Wing Squadron Training Information Letter.

Got my first taste of music-video when I was given a press pass to photograph the Beatles at Shea Stadium

I learned how to read regulations which served me well in getting an interview for admission to Rochester Institute of Technology majoring in Professional Photography. I got married to the girl who would eventually be mother of my two wonderful children, Randi and later Robby.  These events in-sequence began a great adventure that continues to this very day … the pursuit-of-legacy from the POV of a voodoo-medicine-man?

It asks you now to make a choice whether you want to discuss the issue of "Going Nuclear in the USA" from a political or philosopical perspective. If you are interested in my philosophy on approaches to JOB creation than go to http://bobkiger.com/american-jobs.php If you want to continue with the outrageous series of proposals that I make for "Going Nuclear in the USA" then hit [link to be provided shortly] or ofcourse you can press "Next Article" below and that will keep you on your current Political-Economic-Campaign track.