As this gem appears to have little if any local coverage whilst topping the list of our truly closest encounters, I’d like to explore it now and see if anyone in the community has memories or knowledge of this exciting chapter in history.

One of my favorite pastimes has to be pretending that ‘man’ hasn’t come as close as he has to setting this Garden of Eden ablaze, returning it to its former self of one giant cinder cone that only the smallest rodents underground survive. The itchy-trigger-fingers of sociopathic generals (immortalized in such films as How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb) illustrate the kind of antics that happened right over the hill from here one fateful evening.

Duluth (or Hermantown for those of you wanting some distance) has the dubious distinction of playing part in one of these infamous ‘close-calls.’ It involves a pernicious black bear we’ll call Bobby, who, while making a terrible ruckus climbing on ‘the wrong fence,’ becomes mistaken for the Russian invasion that launches World War III from your backyard. Turns out our old friend was perhaps chasing a rabbit, or maybe just felt like climbing a fence?  We’ll never know. But some of our more insightful readers will respectfully point out it wasn’t actually Bobby who nearly destroyed the world, but rather the folly of mankind — which is profound.

Moreover, it would appear the wires to cancel the attack, being improperly installed hence ineffective, were what nearly ended your life, or led to its not beginning. And if not for our lone unnamed hero driving his jeep across that tarmac near Kenosha one dark October night many years ago, flashing his lights to miraculously prevent the bombers from lifting off toward Russia, none of us would be having this conversation right now.

Machine Age Chronicle does a good job with some of the details, but I’m sure there’s more to be learned from those who were there.