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(42 votes) Published: May 04, 2000 12:00 a.m. Viewed 543 times
In every young mans life an event or episode transpires that leads the child to manhood. The path to manhood is nebulous and the transformation is sometimes both
unexpected and sudden. We all have certain expectations of when and where manhood will arrive, most center on some sexual encounter. Mine was not sexual, but a
recognition that a man must do what must be done, when it must be done, without help.
Roswell, New Mexico in the early seventies was just another rural community. The closing of Walker Air Force Base in the mid sixties had consigned Roswell to a
bleak future. Decay and poverty were everywhere, empty, abandoned homes were commonplace. Old run down dilapidated buildings were abundant.
I remember one such house close to my home. It was a rock house and had a small garage behind it. As a child, a friend and I explored the garage. What we found
was reminiscent of a Twilight Zone episode, at least in our minds. The garage was dark and very dusty. The owner had left many unusual looking electronics, including
several old (very old) partial television sets and weird looking gizmos that we could only speculate as to their original intent.
It was in my junior year in high school, that my passage into the adult world took place. I was working part time in the afternoon at a gas station, to earn money and
attended school in the morning. My friend James worked the station in the morning and attended class in the afternoon. We had worked there through the summer
months and a certain group of kids had begun to hang out at the station. Now that school had started they came after school. Among these was a kid named Alan that
we nicknamed Squirt. Alan was taller than either James or I, but his whole nature, well suffice it to say he was "Squirt".
Alan was a year younger than us and was, I guess, a nerd. But he was likeable, and took no offense at our ribbing. He seemed proud of his new nickname, never
having had one before. James and I were both dirt poor, but through the station we were earning some money. I had an old car that I bought with money from mowing
yards and delivering papers, two summers before. James’ mother had scraped enough to buy James a motorcycle for transportation. Alan also had a motorcycle. We
were an odd trio, drawn together by our exclusion from norm.
Squirt was hanging out one day after school, when he asked James and I if we had ever been inside a missile base. I, as a lifelong resident was only vaguely aware of
the missile bases. James was new to Roswell, having lived in the town for less than two years, was completely unaware of the cold war legacy left by The Strategic Air
Command. That being twelve Atlas F Missile bases(abandoned).
Neither James or myself had been into one, in fact the idea had never occurred to us. Squirt said he had maps to the bases and had heard that one was open east of
town. We were always looking for something new to do. James was the only one who had a girlfriend ( to be truthful, the only one who had been on a date) but this
friday she would be out of town, so it was agreed friday night we would go to the missile base and see if we could get inside.
We made little preparation for the trip to the missile base, about a half tank of gas in my old ’52 Chevy, and a few candles to light our way. The base we were going to
according to the map was about 30 miles east of town. We thought it best to go after 10:00 pm to have less chance of being seen. We also thought secrecy was best,
so no one knew what we were about to try.
The bases had not been in use for a few years and the last thing I could recall was that they had been "salvaged" or stripped of the equipment and valuable metals.
Squirt and I had discussed the issue of breaking in, and we had agreed that we would not "Break in", but if it was open, as he was told, then we would go.
About ten, James and I went by Squirt’s house, picked him up, and the maps and headed out. It was November and the desert air was very clear and cold. The Fall
night sky in New Mexico with no moon can justifiably be called beautiful. A pure blackness broken only by the stars, many, many stars. It was nearly eleven when we
came to the road that turned north into the base. A car was coming so we had to pass the road and wait several minutes until the car was out of sight.
The road to the base was short and we soon came to the front gate. It was locked securely, but we could see where others had driven to the left and around the front
fence. The base was surrounded by an eight foot chain link fence with barbed wire on the top. Following the rough road around the fence we found ourselves behind a
large mound of dirt, completely blocked from view of anyone passing on the road. This was good, I had been worried about someone seeing the car.
We got out of the car and even though there was no moon, we could see fairly well, our eyes adjusting quickly to the dark. Slowly walking around the mound of dirt
we could see the back fence. There was little traffic on the highway with only an occasional car passing. When one did happen by, Squirt, James, and I would get very
still hoping we wouldn’t be seen. After a few minutes of walking along the fence we found a breach in the chain link, where someone had cut the fence. It was large
enough for us to squeeze through. Now we were on the base. If caught we would be trespassing at the very least.
Crossing the distance to the above ground bunker carefully to avoid various pipes and concrete that could trip us took several more minutes, what with stopping every
time a car passed. Other than the fence the bunker or entry to the base was the only thing visible from the road. It stood about nine feet tall, square on the end you
entered, and sloping on the opposite side. It was made from concrete that looked to be about nine inches thick. In the darkness it was only a shadow.
Once to the bunker we found the door broken open. It had been welded shut, but someone had cut the welds. James opened the door and one by one we stepped in
to the blackness.
Nervously James struck a match, lighting a candle. A staircase led downward. "I don’t know about this guys." I said," You know we’re breaking the law." Squirt
remained silent, James was adamant."We’ve come this far" he said,"no one cares that we’re here. No one knows we’re here and no one will find out. Hell, they
probably wouldn’t care if they knew. It’s plain someone else has broken in before us, and took their time."
"OK,-------ok" I said,"let’s go". Squirt said " All right, let’s do it." From where we were in the entry way we could not see how far the corridor led down. The dim light
from James candle showed a narrow corridor leading down. After a few steps we could see a landing, but nothing beyond that.
James went first, Squirt second, and me following. James went almost gleefully down, while Alan and I followed more slowly. James was the daredevil, always looking
for excitement. I think that’s why I liked him. At the landing we could see at the bottom of some more steps a wall and a right turn in the corridor. We were obviously
below ground level at this point, but just so. James again led the way, reaching the wall he turned the corner, Squirt and I had our candles burning by this time. As we
turned the corner there was an immediate left turn, James had already moved on. "Man it stinks down here" said James. About that time the strong musty smell caught
us. It was getting warmer, too. Squirt explained that being underground like a cave, the missile base would hold a constant temperature. The smell and the stale air
reminded me of the cave at Carlsbad. I wondered if there were Bats.
James had moved into what appeared to be a small holding area with doors on either end. These doors had not been welded but had been kicked in, bent not broken,
these were steel doors not wood. The area was small and nondeparchment, Squirt now our resident missile silo expert said, "This was a security area, one door was always
locked, and the area monitored from below, by closed circuit television." It made sense, to get inside you had to come through here. After that he kept up a running
dialog about the missile bases. I was skeptical that he knew what he was talking about, but I didn’t know enough to challenge him on it.
Passing beyond this area we had to turn right again. We were met by a massive door . It was all steel, about a foot thick bowing inward, it had massive steel latches
that went down one side, operated by the steel lever mounted on the door. This door had been welded also, and again, cut open. (Someone had spent some time on
this one.) It pulled open easily.
The next area was a cubicle with another huge door to the right. Again welded, but cut.
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