MOUNT DORA, Fla. – This may have been Mount Dora’s best-kept secret — that is, until now.
Tucked away in a forgotten corner of Mount Dora sits a Cold War-era nuclear bomb shelter with a crazy history.
Known locally as the “Mount Dora Catacombs,” this 5,000-square-foot shelter — billed as the largest of its kind — was part of a plan over 60 years ago for members of several local families to hide out in the event of a nuclear apocalypse.
HOW DID IT GET STARTED?
Before discussing the strange shelter itself, it’s important to know why exactly it was built in the first place.
In 1959, author Harry Hart — who hailed from Mount Dora and went by the pseudonym Pat Frank — wrote a novel titled “Alas, Babylon.” The plot of the book revolves around the impacts of a nuclear war between Russia and the U.S. on the fictional small town of Fort Repose, Florida.
In the novel, the Russians struck major Florida cities like Orlando, Tampa and Jacksonville with nuclear bombs, leaving Fort Repose isolated from the rest of the U.S. and the country as a third-world nation.
With the actual Cold War making nuclear war seem like a very real threat, several wealthy Mount Dora residents took the plot as a warning and began pooling their funds together to build a group bomb shelter to keep themselves safe.
According to the late journalist Bill Sievert, citrus magnate William Baker and then-Lake County Health Director Dr. James Hall spearheaded the project, believing that grouping together would be more efficient than crafting single-family shelters.
“Psychologically, we’re social animals, and there is safety in numbers,” Dr. Hall wrote in a 1962 volume of Medical Economics. “I believe that groups will survive with fewer problems than will the single family attempting to go it alone.”
In all, the bunker cost about $60,000 to build, running each participating family at least $2,000.
WHAT WAS IT LIKE?
“It was about the size of a small motel,” local historian Barnett Schwartzman told News 6. “Basically, you had a large common room where everybody would meet. That was maybe 20 (feet) by 40 (feet).”
In addition, Schwartzman explained that there were separate rooms for each of the 25 families planning to stay in the bunker — around 100 people in total — who consisted of doctors, nurses, teachers, a minister, a dentist and a pharmacist, among other occupations.
“You had the common area. You had a clinic. You had a storage area. You had enough food and power to last you six months,” he said. “And you had a whole bunch of 357 (mm) ammunition, too.”
Those who bought a stake in the shelter also had to abide by certain rules when using it, historic records show.
For example, quiet hours lasted from 11 p.m. – 7 a.m., and all firearms brought to the shelter were to be properly tagged.
Of course, the shelter also had burial crypts that lined the wall at the base of the entry stairs across from the generator room, Sievert recounts. This is how it earned its “Catacombs” moniker.
“They were fairly successful in keeping the project secret from the local public, who they feared would demand access in an actual emergency,” Sievert wrote. “Maintaining confidentiality was no easy feat, particularly with lots of heavy equipment and a large crew on site during six months of construction. According to various reports, the man who offered his property for the shelter told anyone who asked that he was simply building tennis courts or (even less credible) a croquet court.”
Thankfully, Armageddon didn’t come to Mount Dora, and the bunker was never put to use. But the bunker’s whereabouts have become something of a mystery.
UNCOVERING THE LOCATION
To figure out where this fabled bunker might be, News 6 had to sift through old property records filed with Lake County.
After days of digging, the News 6 team uncovered a 1961 land lease for the bunker that reveals the coordinates of its location.
When compared to an old plat map of the area dating back to 1893, the bunker appears to have been developed west of Lake Gertrude.
The problem?
The old plat map doesn’t exactly line up with actual aerial images of the neighborhood, so it’s nearly impossible to tell where the described location is.
But thanks to the help of local officials, News 6 was able to pinpoint the location of the bunker, though the exact site will be omitted from this story in the interest of the homeowner’s privacy.
GETTING A LOOK INSIDE
News 6 was unable to get ahold of the property’s homeowner, which caused a snag in the investigation. However, that didn’t stop the search.
Instead, News 6 spoke with an urban explorer (referred to as “Nomeus G.) who took a trip down into the shelter over a decade ago.
“They lead us to like this big hatch. It’s this big steel door and staircase,” Nomeus told News 6. “It was actually about 100 degrees in there. It was super hot, believe it or not. And there were crickets everywhere — crickets and roaches.”
[WATCH NOMEUS’ SEARCH THROUGH THE MOUNT DORA CATACOMBS IN THE MEDIA PLAYER BELOW]
Nomeus said the old shelter had been flooded, so much of what was inside had suffered major water damage.
“Mildewy. Kind of moldy. Super damp, wet,” he stated. “But nothing out of the ordinary that would be shocking or anything. Just a wet basement. It’s pitch black, so there’s no electricity or anything.”
Despite the history of the space, though, Nomeus claimed there wasn’t much of note left down there. While an old refrigerator was still present, it was mostly rusted over.
“The bunk beds are so corroded and rusted, they’re almost dissolved from the water. The basement floods over and over and over again — I don’t even know how high that water gets — but it’s just little pieces and parts of stuff,” he explained.
To watch more of Nomeus’ urban adventures, you can visit his YouTube channel here.
And for more strange places and stories from across the Sunshine State, head to News 6′s “Florida Fables” page here.
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