In my own defense I'll admit I was only somewhere around 8 years old, it was just into the early 1950s at that time. And I was adventurous. With my old can of Dupont black I decided to blow up whatever there was in this "den hole" I found. Likely something around the size of a chipmunk probably. Having no understanding of proportions I must have absolutely used too much powder. I poured in powder, set the can aside and dropped in a match.
Now we all know that a gun barrel is merely a tube that concentrates and expels the ejecta out of the open end; but so is a small hole in the ground. I still have no idea what, if anything, occurred down inside the den or if there was a "backdoor" to the dwelling that could have been an exit. What I do remember is the WHOOSH! of a very warm hot wind blowing into my face. Actually I did everything correctly and well...except the removal of my head away from the opening. Ah, an instant epiphany!
Somehow I survived without any injury; but still did not escape unscathed. The eyebrows had disappeared along with some hair which had the effect of producing and elongating the forehead. What bothered me the most was that my beard was now nothing but cinders - puberty hit me hard, you see. You are allowed to discount the statement in red if you wish, but the rest is real history.
We had to make our own black powder in the '50s. The hard part was getting saltpeter. Nobody had a muzzleloader when we were 11 years old so we made pipe bombs. We scavenged charcoal and sulfur and somebody with a lot of guts managed to get some saltpeter. At the time the legend was that the Army put in soldiers' food to keep them out of trouble.
We never got the right proportions though because there was no internet or other source of info except for local knowledge. We never blew up anything. However, a guy in my 8th grade class must have known the secret. He started a fire in a concrete garbage container and threw his pipe bomb in it.
He waited ... and waited ... and waited and nothing happened so he went up to the container and looked inside. At that time the bomb went off and he lost his left eye. pnic
After that my friends and I decided that we had better quit trying. srndr
I found that when in need of a fuse, a trail of black powder to a blasting cap to det-cord can initiate a loud BooM. Darned fast fuse though....I was used to 3 ft / min. Sure glad I tried just a trail first. Needed to be fairly long.....
Tell the paper bag story, Doug
Back then I made little "bombs" with about the power of a firecracker. I learned how to make excellent, reliable and uniform fuses; never quite got the "bomb" thing right, however.
Hanshi, as brother Russell mentioned, we had the bomb part down pat. Little brother and I were lighting and throwing firecrackers out of a big paper bag. Well we were seeing who could light the most from one match...you can see the rest... He burned his finger, dropped his match and ducked. Poor ol' me just stayed leaning over bag when it went WOOSH. Another call to mom. She kind of hated them .
Oh, and I do remember the 50s. And the 50s were very, very tough, I'll give you that. But at the time they were all we had. chrrs
AFAIC, the 50s were the best decade up to, and including, every decade since then. We had a president who was no dummy an. a press corps that only reported what really mattered ... nothing about the Kardashians or even the Cardassians. No disco, just the infancy of Rock & Roll and dope was the dumbest guy in the class - not something that got you "high."
Gay meant happy and gas was $0.25/gallon. No ethanol in the fuel especially if you bought "Ethyl."
Great music, great times and great friends. "Those were the days" as Archie Bunker would sing.
Quote from: Patocazador on April 12, 2022
AFAIC, the 50s were the best decade up to, and including, every decade since then. We had a president who was no dummy an. a press corps that only reported what really mattered ... nothing about the Kardashians or even the Cardassians. No disco, just the infancy of Rock & Roll and dope was the dumbest guy in the class - not something that got you "high."
Gay meant happy and gas was $0.25/gallon. No ethanol in the fuel especially if you bought "Ethyl."
Great music, great times and great friends. "Those were the days" as Archie Bunker would sing.
back when both the kardashians and the cardassians were unheard of , and the enterprise was an aircraft carrier and not a star ship ! ROFL man ! how times have changed ! I grew up on that music , and that of the 60`s,70`s `and 80`s , all good , then it took a major nose dive !
Boy, you aren't kidding!
Oh, so much I recall, enjoyed and hated happened in the '50s. I still have the first Ventures (an original album) copy of "Walk Don't Run" I bought in '59 I think it was. Soon to be 76 I'm old enough to remember Cronkite's, "You Are There".