The Philadelphia Inquirer, July 15, 1999



Under the waves, a reminder

Divers placed a memorial on a toppled Cold War tower.

By Joseph A. Gambardello
INQUIRER STAFF WRITER

ABOARD THE DEEP ADVENTURES III -- In the late `50s and early `60s, a trio of platforms towering like three-headed monsters above the Atlantic stood sentinel off the coast of the Northeast United States, part of the early-warning system for a feared attack by Soviet bombers or missiles.

Called Texas Towers because of their resemblance to oil platforms in the Gulf of Mexico, the Air Force radar facilities were troubled from the start by a range of problems, not least of which was their vibrating like tuning forks even in the best of weather.

Then on Jan. 15, 1961, one of the platforms, Texas Tower 4, located 75 miles east of Barnegat Inlet, collapsed and sank during a nor`easter, killing all 28 airmen and civilian workers aboard.

Yesterday, more than 38 years later, scuba divers who have been exploring the wreck for years joined there with friends and family of the Cold War casualties to stage the first memorial service at the site.
It took the 20 people more than 5 hours to sail to the unmarked spot, which lies at 39 degrees 48 minutes north latitude and 72 degrees 40 minutes west longitude.

The mourners included Donald Abbott, whose father, David, was a welder on the tower; Jeanette Laino, whose husband Louis Laino was an airman; retired Lt. Col. Robert Cutler of Broomall, who was the penultimate commander of the rig; and a two-man delegation from Boston`s Pile Drivers Local Union 56, whose members included David Abbott and five other lost workers.

After a prayer and a reading of the names of the dead, two divers from Montgomery County -- Chuck Zimmaro of Harleysville, who has been diving at the wreck since 1974, and John Sgrignioli of Collegeville -- went into the water to attach a plaque to the sunken rig.

"Lest We Forget," reads the plaque, which bears the names of the men lost at the tower.
"It`s sad, but yet it feels wonderful because there was no grave," said Laino, who was pregnant with her daughter, but did not know it, when her husband died.

"Now finally the men are being remembered. They were totally forgotten by the government," said Laino, who moved recently to Edgewater Park from Langhorne.
The memorial service came about because Donald Abbott, 59, got a computer in December.

One day while using the Internet, he found a site announcing a dive at the rig. He was surprised to learn that the rig still existed, and at the same time he thought it was wrong to be used for recreation.

He contacted Bernie Chowdhury of Chester, N.Y., the publisher and executive editor of Immersed, a diving magazine, and an e-mail correspondence began. In e-mails, Chowdhury explained that the divers learn the history of the wrecks that they visit and, by doing so, keep them alive.

In one e-mail, Chowdhury asked if Abbott would like to hold a memorial service at the deep-sea wreck site.

"I had to back up from the computer, and I cried," said Abbott, of Malden, Mass.
The towers cost $13 million each ($76.8 million in 1999 dollars) to build, and were designed to withstand winds of 125 m.p.h. and 60-foot waves. Their triangular platforms measured 210 feet on each side and rose 70 feet above the water, supporting three radar domes.

The rigs would be evacuated in very bad weather except for a skeleton crew because officials feared that Soviet trawlers would claim salvage rights to an abandoned platform and obtain top-secret equipment. Unlike Towers 2 and 3, which were driven into rocky seabeds off New England, Tower 4 stood on a sandy bottom in a deeper water of 180 feet.

It was soon nicknamed "Old Shaky" after it went into operation in 1957 and repeated efforts were made to stabilize the tower. It soon sported cross supports between its three legs.

But all the towers vibrated from currents, waves and the diesel engines used to turn the radars. Tours of duty were 45 days on and 15 days off, although arrivals and departures were delayed by rough weather.

"They all shook and rocked and vibrated and moaned and groaned," said Ken Taylor, who served on Tower 3 on Nantucket Shoal. "It was quite an experience."

Besides the movement, crews had to endure a horn going off every 29 seconds when fog set in.

In September 1960, everyone was evacuated from Tower 4 in advance of Hurricane Donna, which packed 132-m.p.h. winds.

The storm weakened the tower. A crew of 14 Air Force personnel and 14 civilian workers was stationed on it to perform repair work to stabilize the tower in advance of a temporary evacuation slated for Feb. 1, 1961. But on Jan. 14, a nor`easter started battering the tower with high waves and winds of 85 m.p.h., and about 7:20 p.m. the next day, the tower disappeared off the radar screen of Navy ships steaming to the rescue.

Only one body was found floating in the water. A second was found strapped to a seat in the radio room in the rig underwater.

In a tragic twist, the tower`s commander, Capt. Gordon T. Phelan, had transferred to the Air Force from the Navy because he had grown tired of extended sea duty.

Two years later, Texas Towers 2 and 3 were shut down and dismantled, their work shifted to planes equipped with newer and better technology.

Yesterday, before weighing anchor for the long journey home, a diver carrying an underwater camera attached to a long line of cable dived to the rig and sent back video images of the plaque attached to a ladder in a hatch on the rig.

"When you go into that hatchway, it`s the first thing you`ll see," Zimmaro told the mourners, who were spellbound watching the images on a small television screen. "Anyone who goes there will know about the men who still serve there."

© 1998 Philadelphia Newspapers Inc.