Vetsville, Quonset Huts, Progress, and Regression
Will the Quonset Hut Make a Comeback?
Have you ever lived in a Quonset hut? No? Shoot, if you haven’t then you’ve really missed quite a little treat.
I was fortunate enough to live in a Quonset hut back in the day. Recently, I’ve found myself thinking about that experience, because I’ve been thinking about Quonset huts specifically. Strange, right? What’s even stranger is that 66 years after I lived in one, I’m seriously considering building a metal home, a Quonset hut.
Intrigued? Well, hang in there for a minute then, because I’m going to attempt to combine my history and my future into a single meaningful story.
That’s me and my sister in the lead photo. It was taken during the time when pedal pushers were all the rage, I Love Lucy and The Ed Sullivan Show were popular, dads were back from the Korean War, and enrollment in universities had doubled.
If you look down the road and to your right, you’ll see a string of Quonset huts.
Yep! We lived in one of them. Well, we lived in one half of one hut. Each end of these metal dome structures held the door to a family’s temporary home in Boulder, Colorado.
This collection of Quonset homes was affectionately known as Vetsville because it housed so many married vets who were going back to college on a GI bill.
My dad was one of those vets. I was probably five in the photo which would mean the photo was taken around 1956 ish. My memory isn’t perfect, of course, but I do know that I started school in Boulder, kindergarten, and my teachers name was Mrs. Knots. If you said her name quickly, it sounded like Mrs. Snots. My dad came up with that idea and teased me about my teacher’s name.
I don’t have a lot of memories of living in a Quonset hut.
I know it was kind of dark. I think it had two bedrooms. My mom didn’t work. She was one of a fair number of young mothers who had a family to care for while their husbands finished their degrees. At 480 square feet, half of a Quonset hut was offered to married students at low cost, but I contend it felt like an adventure to my father who thrived on adventures.
I have read that the 1950s was a period of hope that fostered a growing middle class.
My dad was working toward his master’s degree in physics. Of course, I had no idea at the time that my parents were part of a massive number of families who were taking advantage of opportunities afforded to them during a short-lived period of progress in America. I mean the biggest housing boom in U.S. history was taking place while enrollment in universities doubled.
Apparently, the University of Colorado’s enrollment jumped from 3846 in 1940 to 8846 in 1950. Other universities were experiencing a similar thing. Furthermore, over twenty million homes were constructed between 1965 and 1970 making it the biggest housing boom in United States history. Can you even imagine such hope?
Did life start to change after that?
I don’t know. I’m not a historian. I’m just a woman with an interesting personal history and an above average desire to remember the past.
Yet, as I delve into what was while trying to project myself into the realm of what’s coming, I have to say, the world has changed in my lifetime at dizzying speeds. It leaves me with more questions than answers as I wonder where we’re headed.
So, why am I thinking about Quonset huts again?
Well, other than waxing nostalgic, I have practical reasons. I’ve been thinking about the future in terms of changing climate a lot these days. Yes, I’m one of those women who reads science journals and admires the best and brightest minds.
And I’m confident that the world is being forced to transition to the next phase of social and technological progress whether we want to or not.
The future design of our cars, homes, power sources and more will most likely make the industrial revolution look like the Dark Ages by comparison. Oddly, enough, the Quonset hut may be a practical solution for those of us who are ready to make changes in our personal lives.
I don’t know about you, but affordable housing that withstands extreme weather, possibly even fires, is easy to construct, low maintenance, and lasts a long time really appeals to me.
I purchased land in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan a few years ago. It was largely purchased as an eventual gift to my two children and one grandchild, but if I were to decide to build a home there, a Quonset hut is worth considering. As a climate refuge surrounded by trees, 20% of the world’s fresh water, and few people, I could imagine myself in a Quonset home for the second time in my life.
Here’s a website with lots of information if you’re interested.
In a day and age where the feeling of hope of the 1950s has diminished considerably, I need to dream — a lot — to keep my creative spirit from wilting. I’ve watched a steady decline in our country over the years.
Not that the 20th century was all good. It wasn’t, but we did make progress.
A growing middle class, a higher level of education, a decrease in illiteracy rates, smaller families and better birth control, and an improvement in women’s rights should never be taken for granted. There was a civil rights movement, public schools were built all over America, and federally funded roads spread across the nation, connecting us from coast to coast.
Where did that “can do” spirit go?
Innovation boomed, unions were formed, company pension plans increased, social security was enacted, a minimum wage established, Medicare, even National Parks and protected lands were instituted.
Are you as amazed as I am?
The eight-hour work day, five-day work week, and the concept of overtime pay was normalized. Children were taken out of the coal mines and sweat shops and put in school, and the average lifespan was doubled.
Doubled! It was doubled around the time that I was born, in 1951.
That wasn’t that long ago, folks. Now, the mention of merely updating our crumbling infrastructures produces nothing but naysayers and political division.
I spend more days feeling discouraged than encouraged.
We’re banning books, refusing to teach history, trying to destroy public education, and demonizing liberal arts and universities. The world is crumbling in despair, housing is almost unaffordable, while climate change continues to be debated.
Inaction is our middle name. We can’t seem to fix things anymore. Progress has stalled and regression is swiftly taking over.
In the meantime, I sit and dream of a Quonset hut in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, above the 45th parallel, far from the madding crowd. It makes me feel hopeful, empowered, like my parents probably felt in 1956 when my dad attended the University of Colorado in Boulder to earn his master’s degree. A small-town boy and girl from Indiana who were lucky enough to experience a time period when they would most likely live longer than their parents and enjoy middle-class lives. Their dreams were about progress, however, and mine are about escape.
Progress gives us hope, my friend.
That’s the secret to success. Regression kills the creative spirit. Without creativity and diversity, we no longer can adapt to change easily. If we can’t adapt, we die. Societies need to grow, move forward. They can only stagnant for a short time and then regression begins. Oppression sucks our creative juices dry and hope disappears.
Yes, the Quonset hut might make a comeback. It will be for different reasons, but who knows, it could pave the way to progress once again.
Teresa is a retired educator, author, world traveler, and professional myth buster. You can find her books on Amazon.
