Hiroshima, August 6, 1945; Nagasaki, August 9, 1945.
In time I came to an open space where the houses had been removed to make a fire lane. Through the dim light I could make out ahead of me the hazy outlines of the Communications Bureau’s big concrete building, and beyond it the hospital. My spirits rose because I knew that now someone would find me; and if I should die, at least my body would be found. I paused to rest.
Gradually things around me came into focus. There were the shadowy forms of people, some of whom looked like walking ghosts. Others moved as though in pain, like scarecrows, their arms held out from their bodies with forearms and hands dangling. These people puzzled me until I suddenly realized that they had been burned and were holding their arms out to prevent the painful friction of raw surfaces rubbing together. A naked woman carrying a naked baby came into view. I averted my gaze. Perhaps they had been in the bath. But then I saw a naked man, and it occurred to me that, like myself, some strange thing had deprived them of their clothes. An old woman lay near me with an expression of suffering on her face; but she made no sound. Indeed, one thing was common to everyone I saw - complete silence.
“A swimming pool that becomes an automatic decontamination bath during an A-bomb attack is one of the features of a home that Hal B. Hayes, Hollywood contractor, is completing for himself. In the hillside next to the swimming pool he’s building an underground sanctuary that you reach by diving into the pool. His house is designed to “bring the outdoors indoors” for ordinary peaceful living, yet has a structure built to resist great destructive forces. Several of the walls are completely of glass that would be swept away by a powerful shock wave, but could later be replaced. A continuation of his living-room rug is pulled up to shroud the glass wall in that room when a button is pressed.
Other walls of the house have a fluted design to resist shock wave and a fireproof exterior surface of Gunite.
A garden growing in half a foot of soil on the flat roof provides insulation against extreme heat or shock. All exposed wood, inside and outside of the house, is fire-resistant redwood coated with fire-retarding paint. In addition to the underground sanctuary, equipped with bottled oxygen, there is a bombproof shelter in the house itself, consisting of a large steel and concrete vault containing a sitting room and bathroom. Other features of the home include a three-story indoor tree…”
These photos look like they were taken just yesterday. Well, not really. They’re actually 40-50 years old (Kodak Vericolor Type L film with a 4 x 5 view camera and 90 mm wide angle lens)! Photographer Tim Putz was a personal friend of the Battistone family, the original owners of the Sambo’s Restaurant enterprise. They commissioned him from 1964 to 1970 to photograph the first 25 Sambo’s restaurants in the growing chain.
At one time there were 1200 locations across America. Today, only one Sambo’s Restaurant remains — the very first one that still stands at its original location on the beach in Santa Barbara. - Via: 1 | 2