‘Safety is a fairly fluid term when it comes to rating the safest parks in the U.S. and no choice exemplifies this subjectivity more than the number one ranking of ‘Bunker Field,’ a public children’s playground and astroturf park located far enough underground that it would remain undamaged in all but a direct nuclear strike. ‘Bunker Field’ is a proof-of-concept maintained by Bob’s Bunkers, a company that specializes in apocalyptic security for the obscenely wealthy. They advertise their willingness to take on unusual and luxurious designs without compromising on safety or efficiency and Bunker Park is the prime example. Its air is filtered and clean. Its water pulls from a deep well and can be stored for up to five years. It draws power from the solar panels on the surface and from the rotation of its merry-go-round. Its leaded walls are nearly half a foot thick, and when the klaxons start to sound, several doors will automatically seal the playground from the outside world.
The actual physical safety of children at ‘Bunker Park’ has been called into question, however. Injuries abound, the playground taking notes from sturdy, 1950’s era designs and except that it is constructed entirely of reinforced steel, off of which children’s heads tend to bounce. The lights are designed to dim automatically when no movement is detected and local children have identified the sensors and will cover them to bring about ‘night.’ Then, they toss themselves about in the dark until someone inevitably catches a concussion on the edge of the brutalist play area or simply runs directly into the walls, which are painted in the style of Looney Tunes to look like the lush natural environment that would be cooked in a real nuclear event. Cell phone service is not available at ‘Bunker Park’ for obvious reasons, so injured kids have to be dragged to the surface before their parents or responsible older siblings can be notified.
And then there are the doomsday guys.’
The doomsday guys clock me basically immediately and it takes them no time at all to conclude that I’m a third party. The first party is, of course, the parents with kids, of which there looks to be just two families. The 18 or so other guys probably thought they could blend in as vestigial uncles or whatever but didn’t count on there being other preppers with the same idea and now they’ve camped on the outskirts of the park with big army surplus bags and matte black rifles to protect the place when the doors come sliding down.
I sort of thought I could pass as an uncle for the time it took me to look around the place, too, but the current demographic and the unfriendly welcome immediately pushes me into ‘tourist’ persona. I pull out a small and entirely non-functional digital camera, which people find way less intimidating than simply taking pictures on my phone, and I do my best to project an image of what I actually literally am, which is just a guy looking around. The trouble I immediately run into, however, is that the preppers don’t want me taking pictures of them and the parents don’t want me taking pictures of their kids. I try to sit casually on a bench and look at my phone before I remember there’s no service.
Tension begins to rise.
The parents, who were surprisingly chill about the militia guys, are suddenly standing just a bit closer to their kids. The militia guys are cleaning their guns at me. Desperate, I pull up the only game my phone seems to have installed and find that it needs an update. A child laughs somewhere near one of the walls.
The bunker goes dark.
I escape ‘Bunker Park’ unscathed and well before authorities arrive. News articles capture the relative chaos of the event, which involved a great deal of random gun fire and an unhelpful maze of very bright flashlight beams, all whipping around in an effort to locate me, I suppose, and eventually whoever decided it was a good idea to open fire in the dark. Only one injury came of the whole thing- a kid who ran headfirst into the reinforced concrete base of the slide on his way back to his parents. They’re quoted as being fairly positive about the park, despite the mess:
“He was going to lose those teeth anyway.”
-traveler
