By Kathy Hughes
Contributing columnist
Now and again, one hears reference to the “Cold War,” but how many people, especially newscasters know much about it?
Certainly, anyone who lived during the era following World War II — 1945-1980 — remembers the decades long stand-off between the United States and the then USSR (Russia), along with their respective allies in a battle for world dominance. But I, for one — growing up in a suburb of Washington, D.C. — lived under an almost daily awareness of imminent world destruction.
The tension was not simply a matter of international relations and politics; it influenced almost every aspect of life. It was oppressive, it was frightening and it was constant. The concept of “a Red [communist] behind every bush” was advertised not only in the spy novels and films of the era, but in real life scandals and exposés not only in far away capitals — London, Berlin, Budapest — but in our nation’s capital, right in my backyard.
As a child, the Civil Defense signs and sirens, the fallout shelters were outward signs, but like the effects filtered into our home very like the predicted radiation from a nuclear war.
My father worked for the U.S. government, he brought the war home with him — unwillingly, I am sure. Periodically, he was sent to a secret location, for secret training, on secret subjects. Not even my mother was supposed to know where he was. A major lapse in security went unnoticed when, while at one secret seminar, my father became ill and phoned for my mother to come pick him up — my brother and I went along, and, to this day, my lips are sealed.
Another early memory was waking up before dawn, and retreating with my father into the basement where our television was located. We sat together, sometimes I sat on his lap, waiting for our show to come on: the Sunrise Semester. For him, it was a requirement from his government employer that he learn to speak Russian, and they had paid for his registration and study materials; as an unregistered participant, I learned along with him.
Ironically, one of the phrases we learned, which I remember to this day, was how to say “I love you” in Russian, along with, “I understand Russian.” The intent of this, I suppose, is so that should we encounter a Russian spy, we would be able to communicate.
My limited familiarity with Russian has been of limited usefulness. I have never travelled to Russia, and I have met only a few Russians who I could dazzle with my knowledge. As far as I know, none of them were spies.