John Sims moved to Tucson, Arizona, in an effort to live a more restrained lifestyle. He never imagined that it would become one of the most memorable moments of his life. It all started when the former owner of his new home told him about a worrying rumor.
Rumor had it that something was hidden on the property. John could not get the idea out of his brain, so he started digging in the backyard. What he discovered made him cringe. He did not, without a doubt, sign up for this.
The house in the mysterious backyard
John Sims had heard about a friend’s selling of a house in midtown Tucson, Arizona, and was eager to buy. Since the owner was one of his buddies, he knew he would be in good hands. But after he finished the papers, he heard of a rumor about the property from an associate.
The elders of the community claim that they believe something fascinating is hidden away somewhere in it. Though his partner was never able to solve the puzzle, John might be able to. John would ultimately discover something that would delight people all across the state of Arizona.
His insatiable curiosity won out.
As John started to organize his belongings in his new house, he couldn’t help but think back to what his friend had said. He was curious, but he was also interested. He quickly had a strong desire to solve the mysteries surrounding his new house.
After digging, John started to look about his land. John dug four different holes in the backyard before realizing there was nothing there. If he couldn’t find it under the grass, then whatever it is, it’s got to be under the bricks.
X denotes the place.
John found the construction documents of his house when he was granted access to local records. It turned out that Whitaker Pools was an unusual facility that had been built in 1961. Now that he had proof that there was something buried on the property, John was even more determined to solve the mystery.
He enlisted consultants equipped with metal detectors to help him locate it. Once there and equipped with the appropriate tools, a group investigated John’s backyard. Before long, the metal detectors began to sound. John marked the locations of the two metal detector triggers with a huge X in the chalk.
making a connection
After the consultants were dismissed, John excitedly grabbed a shovel and got to work digging. His shovel struck something metal really quickly. Finally he felt something three feet under the grass. John decided to stop and think after making some progress.
Is it possible that this was a septic tank? What would happen if he succeeded in damaging or breaking a pipe? He had to exercise extreme caution. However, the more he dug with precision, the more he sensed that something was off. He was going to solve his own garden puzzle.
Opening the hatch
John later found what looked to be the aperture of a hatch. He bent to clear some dirt, then used a pry bar to pry open the metal cover. John was cautious not to breathe in too much since he might be in contact with mold spores or toxic gas vapors.
John left the lid open for nearly a day in order to let any air from below escape and let fresh air into the structure. He also knew that the air in the little space needs to be tested for mold before entering.
It wasn’t safe.
John glanced through the hatch the next morning. A spiral staircase that led below was revealed to him. Though most would have been so happy that they would have started walking down right immediately, John wasn’t that foolish.
He knew more now. As the captain of the Rural/Metro Fire Department, he needed someone close by in case the lid fell back in. There was no way he could lift the lid from underneath on his own now that he was home alone.
Forming a group
Because of his considerable training and experience in rescuing people from tight spaces, John was aware of all the risks. He could see that the staircase was unsteady and that going into the shaft by itself would be too dangerous.
It was John who decided to form a team. He summoned some friends over to lend a hand. Some might act as spotters while others could help him with the excavation when it was safe enough to explore what was inside the shaft.
Making a strategy
The team assembled the next day and set to work creating a blueprint. They discussed the best course of action as well. One of their first acts was to reinforce and rebuild the concrete framework surrounding the steps.
They built Sonotube cardboard around the entryway to keep everyone safe while they worked. John and his team worked hard to pour concrete layers and secure the rebar inside the hatch.
It took a lot of work.
To protect the team and the hatch, John had to cover the hatch with a tarpaulin. It was starting to become too hot in Arizona. When they took pauses from the heat, they speculated about what might be down there.
We had a lot of work ahead of us in order to get the answers. An electrical line has to be constructed in order to provide sufficient lighting within the shaft and to use power equipment when needed. To bring in fresh air, a black pipe was also installed into the shaft.
figuring out the entrance
They had finally finished building the area around the structure. However, the spiral staircase presented another challenge. The steps were so corroded that it was impossible to determine whether they could sustain any weight. They needed to figure out another way inside without going up the stairs.
John had to take great care to descend the team’s ladder without cutting himself on the rusty steps. John was excited beyond belief. He was going to be the first to figure out the code. It was finally the moment he had been waiting for.
There was still unresolved business.
When they reached the bottom, John was relieved to hear they did not need to dig any deeper. Still, more work needed to be done. The tunnel ceilings’ fiberglass covering was slowly breaking down. This suggested that there was still a risk to the building.
John was shocked to discover, after a thorough inspection, that the structure was essentially undamaged despite being abandoned for nearly fifty years. Later on, even though it was unoccupied at the time, it was found to be John’s backyard nuclear bomb bunker!
starting in the era of the Cold War
It all became obvious at once. The shelter was built during the Cold War, when the United States and the Soviet Union feared full-scale nuclear war. At that point, Whitaker Pools added bomb shelters to their line of business.
Actually, there were bomb shelters on several sites around Tucson. In the case of a nuclear war, that was the best a responsible family man could do at the time to protect his loved ones.
Tucson’s historical past
Bombs and Tucson, it turns out, have a long history together. Tucson was dubbed the “rocket town” because it possessed eighteen ballistic missiles that could cross continents and destroy an area of 900 square miles.
By the conclusion of the Cold War, almost all of the missiles in the missile silos had been rendered unusable, but the government continued to keep them top secret. Most nuclear bunkers were dismantled or shut up in the early 1980s.
growing in acceptance
John shared his garden discovery on Reddit and quickly became well-known. The post has received hundreds of comments in a matter of hours. Local publications and TV shows started getting in touch to set up interviews about it.
The story was covered by international outlets such as the Daily Mail. John’s tale has also been told in Japan. Undoubtedly a noteworthy finding. Tucson locals started to fear as well, in case they had one in their backyard.
What happens after that?
The attention he received helped John make relationships with people in the community who had fallout shelters. He had the chance to ask them about their cleaning procedure and get advice on how to use it going forward.
John wants to build a museum dedicated to the Cold War, but most others turned theirs into wine cellars or man caves. After conducting a great deal of research on the Cold War era, John started collecting relics such as Geiger counters, water supply barrels, HAM radios, and sanitation kits.
His thoughts after making this discovery
“I was really hoping it was going to be a little microcosm… a time capsule full of radiation detectors, cots, civil defense boxes, and stuff like that,” John stated in an interview. Sadly, the bomb shelter was devoid of any furnishings at all.
John also talked about his extensive reading on the Cold War. He believes that the Cuban Missile Crisis was probably the primary cause of Tucson residents’ decision to construct bomb shelters in their backyards during the 1960s.
Suggestions for Tucson residents
John suggests that Tucson locals look through City of Tucson or Pima County data to see whether there is a bomb shelter located in their backyard. The information will probably be in the building permits.
John also warns everyone not to dive in too quickly when someone finds a bomb shelter in the yard. John continued by saying that it’s generally not a good idea to jump into earthly openings because the poisonous air in a tunnel or cave-in can render a person quickly unconscious.
requesting financial support
John intends to completely remodel the bomb shelter. But he didn’t have that much money. He set up a GoFundMe campaign to gather money for the renovation of his bomb bunker from the 1960s. He also planned to restore the interior in addition to the entryway.
John’s first priority was to replace the steps so that everyone could enter safely. John and the remodeling crew may now enter and exit the building safely, something he was only able to do with the money he was able to raise.
My husband was determined to poison the raccoons that kept invading our backyard, but what they pulled from our trash left me completely shocked
My husband set poison traps for the raccoons that raided our backyard, but I couldn’t bring myself to agree. One night, they pulled something from the trash and I was curious. What I saw in the moonlight left me breathless and in tears.
“No, Kyle, please don’t hurt the poor thing!” The words tore from my throat as I watched my husband hurl a stone at a pregnant raccoon waddling across our backyard. The rock missed, thank God. And the animal scurried away, her movements clumsy with the weight of her unborn babies.
Kyle turned to me, his jaw set and knuckles white around another rock. “They’re pests, Josie. The sooner you understand that, the better.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop shaking. After fifteen years of marriage, you’d think I’d be used to his outbursts by now. But every time, it felt like a punch to the gut.
“They’re living creatures, Kyle. They’re just trying to survive.”
He scoffed, tossing the second rock between his hands. “Yeah, well, they can survive somewhere else. I’m sick of coming home to a war zone every day.”
“It’s hardly a war zone. It’s just some scattered trash.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start with me, Josie. Not today.”
The raccoon problem, as Kyle called it, had started last spring. We’d wake up to find our trash cans knocked over and contents strewn across the lawn.
Once, they even climbed onto our deck and raided the leftover barbecue from my birthday party. I didn’t mind much. They were just hungry, after all.
But Kyle took it personally like the animals were deliberately trying to provoke him.
“I’m telling you, we need better locks for the cans,” I suggested one morning as Kyle angrily watched me scoop up the scattered garbage. “Maybe some chicken wire around the garden too. My sister Jane says that worked for them.”
“I don’t care what your sister says. What we need is to get rid of them. Permanently.”
I remembered when we first met, how his spontaneity had seemed charming. Now, at forty, that impulsiveness had morphed into an iron-fisted need to control everything, including me.
“Kyle, please. Can’t we try the peaceful way first?”
He jabbed a finger at me. “You always do this, Josie. Always trying to make everything complicated when there’s a simple solution right in front of us.”
“Simple doesn’t always mean right.”
He slammed the broom against the side of the house. “What was that?”
I flinched. “Nothing. I’ll look into better trash cans today.”
That weekend, I found Kyle in the garage, assembling something metallic.
“What’s that?” I asked, though I already knew. Animal traps.
He didn’t look up. “Insurance. These smart traps will catch anything that comes near our trash.”
“Kyle, please. They could hurt them.”
He slammed down his screwdriver. “That’s the point! I’m so sick of you defending these disease-carrying vermin. You act like they’re some kind of pets.”
“They’re not pets, but they don’t deserve to suffer. Maybe if we just—”
“Maybe if we just what, Josie? Let them take over? Build them a guest house while we’re at it? I’ve had it with your bleeding heart routine.”
I felt tears welling up but forced them back. “Why does everything have to be solved with violence? They’re just hungry animals, Kyle.”
He stood up, his face red. “You want to know what I think? I think you care more about these pests than our home. Than me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? Every time I try to solve a problem, you fight me. The raccoons, the neighbor’s dog that keeps barking all night, even that group of teens that hangs out by our fence.”
“Those are all living beings, Kyle. Not problems to be ‘solved.’”
“This is my house!” he yelled, making me jump. “I work every day to pay for it, to keep it nice, and I’m not going to let some animals destroy it while my stupid wife takes their side!”
When the raccoons started showing up again this spring, Kyle completely lost it.
That evening, I was folding laundry when he stormed in, waving a piece of paper and grinning like he’d won the lottery.
“You’ll never guess what I found at the hardware store. Industrial-grade pest control. Guaranteed to solve our little problem.”
I took the paper. It was a receipt for animal traps and some kind of poison. My hands started trembling.
“Kyle, you can’t be serious. That stuff could kill them!”
He snatched the receipt back. “That’s the point, Josie. God, sometimes I think you’re being dense on purpose.”
“But what if neighborhood cats get into it? Or someone’s dog? We could get in trouble.”
Kyle’s face darkened. “I’ve made up my mind. The raccoons are gone by the end of the week, one way or another.”
I spent that night tossing and turning, my mind racing. When did the man I married become someone who could so casually talk about killing innocent creatures?
I thought about calling Jane, but I already knew what she’d say. She’d never liked Kyle and always said there was something off about him. Maybe I should have listened.
The breaking point came on a quiet Tuesday night two days later. I was reading in bed when I heard rustling outside. Peering through the window, I saw one of the trash cans had been knocked over again.
I slipped on my robe and grabbed a flashlight. As I approached the mess, something caught my eye. It was a black garbage bag, partially open, with something moving inside.
My hands trembled as I reached for it. “Oh no. No, no, no…”
Inside were three tiny raccoon babies, barely old enough to open their eyes. They were squirming weakly.
“Kyle!” I screamed, cradling the bag close. “Kyle, get out here right now!”
He appeared on the porch, looking annoyed. “What are you yelling about? It’s the middle of the night, you crazy woman!”
“Did you do this?” I held up the bag. “Did you throw away baby animals like they were garbage?”
He shrugged. “They’re pests. I’m handling it.”
“Handling it? They’ll die!”
“That’s the point, Josie. Jesus, why are you so naive? They’re just raccoons!”
“Just raccoons? They’re babies, Kyle! Living, breathing creatures that feel pain and fear. How would you feel if someone threw you away to die?”
He laughed, a cold sound that made me shiver. “Now you’re comparing me to a raccoon? How dare you, Josie?”
“I’m comparing you to someone with empathy, and you’re coming up short.”
Kyle stepped closer, his voice a chilling growl that made my blood run cold. “You know what your problem is? You’re soft. Always have been. The world isn’t some fairy tale where we all just get along. Sometimes you have to be tough.”
“Tough? There’s nothing tough about hurting something weaker than you. That’s just cruel.”
I looked at him and wondered how I’d never seen the cruelty that had always been there.
The next morning, I called every wildlife rescue in the area until I found one that could help. A kind woman named Marla showed me how to feed the raccoon kits with a tiny bottle.
“You’re doing great,” she assured me, watching as I cradled the smallest one. “They’re lucky you found them when you did.”
As I watched the kit suckle eagerly, tears rolled down my cheeks. “I just don’t understand how someone could be so cruel.”
Marla squeezed my shoulder. “Sometimes the animals we save end up saving us too.”
That evening, I found Kyle’s journal and a detailed plan for dealing with the “raccoon infestation.” It included poison locations, trap placements, and even a schedule. The methodical cruelty of it made me sick.
When Jane arrived, she saw the journal in my hands.
“Still think I’m overreacting?” I asked, showing her the pages.
She shook her head. “Josie, this isn’t about raccoons anymore. Maybe it never was.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I think I’ve always known.”
The divorce papers were served a week later. Kyle didn’t seem surprised, just angry. As always.
“You’re really throwing me out over some pests?” he spat as he packed his things into boxes.
I stood my ground in the doorway of what was now my house alone. “No, Kyle. I’m ending this because of who you’ve become. Who you’ve always been, maybe, and I just didn’t want to see it.”
Days turned into weeks. The raccoon kits grew stronger.
The smallest one was shy and always hid behind his siblings. The middle one was curious about everything. And the biggest was protective, always watching out for the others.
Marla helped me release them back into the wild when they were ready. As we watched them toddle toward the treeline, I saw movement in the bushes. There, watching us, was their mother.
“Look,” Marla whispered. “She came back for them.”
The mother raccoon chittered softly, and her babies ran to her. Before disappearing into the forest, she turned and looked right at me. In that instance, I felt a connection to something larger than myself. Compassion.
“You know,” Marla said, “there’s an opening at the rescue center if you’re interested. We could use someone with your kindness.”
I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in years. “I’d like that.”
“You know, Josie, you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. They’re like a mirror that reflects our true selves.”
Looking back, I realized the raccoons hadn’t just been victims of Kyle’s cruelty. They’d been my wake-up call. Sometimes it takes seeing someone else’s vulnerability to recognize your own.
As the raccoons disappeared into the trees, I took a deep breath and felt ready for a fresh start. I knew I deserved better, and that someday, I’d find the right person who saw the world with the same compassion I did.
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