John Sims moved to Tucson, Arizona, in an effort to live a more restrained lifestyle. He never imagined that it would become one of the most memorable moments of his life. It all started when the former owner of his new home told him about a worrying rumor.
Rumor had it that something was hidden on the property. John could not get the idea out of his brain, so he started digging in the backyard. What he discovered made him cringe. He did not, without a doubt, sign up for this.
The house in the mysterious backyard
John Sims had heard about a friend’s selling of a house in midtown Tucson, Arizona, and was eager to buy. Since the owner was one of his buddies, he knew he would be in good hands. But after he finished the papers, he heard of a rumor about the property from an associate.
The elders of the community claim that they believe something fascinating is hidden away somewhere in it. Though his partner was never able to solve the puzzle, John might be able to. John would ultimately discover something that would delight people all across the state of Arizona.
His insatiable curiosity won out.
As John started to organize his belongings in his new house, he couldn’t help but think back to what his friend had said. He was curious, but he was also interested. He quickly had a strong desire to solve the mysteries surrounding his new house.
After digging, John started to look about his land. John dug four different holes in the backyard before realizing there was nothing there. If he couldn’t find it under the grass, then whatever it is, it’s got to be under the bricks.
X denotes the place.
John found the construction documents of his house when he was granted access to local records. It turned out that Whitaker Pools was an unusual facility that had been built in 1961. Now that he had proof that there was something buried on the property, John was even more determined to solve the mystery.
He enlisted consultants equipped with metal detectors to help him locate it. Once there and equipped with the appropriate tools, a group investigated John’s backyard. Before long, the metal detectors began to sound. John marked the locations of the two metal detector triggers with a huge X in the chalk.
making a connection
After the consultants were dismissed, John excitedly grabbed a shovel and got to work digging. His shovel struck something metal really quickly. Finally he felt something three feet under the grass. John decided to stop and think after making some progress.
Is it possible that this was a septic tank? What would happen if he succeeded in damaging or breaking a pipe? He had to exercise extreme caution. However, the more he dug with precision, the more he sensed that something was off. He was going to solve his own garden puzzle.
Opening the hatch
John later found what looked to be the aperture of a hatch. He bent to clear some dirt, then used a pry bar to pry open the metal cover. John was cautious not to breathe in too much since he might be in contact with mold spores or toxic gas vapors.
John left the lid open for nearly a day in order to let any air from below escape and let fresh air into the structure. He also knew that the air in the little space needs to be tested for mold before entering.
It wasn’t safe.
John glanced through the hatch the next morning. A spiral staircase that led below was revealed to him. Though most would have been so happy that they would have started walking down right immediately, John wasn’t that foolish.
He knew more now. As the captain of the Rural/Metro Fire Department, he needed someone close by in case the lid fell back in. There was no way he could lift the lid from underneath on his own now that he was home alone.
Forming a group
Because of his considerable training and experience in rescuing people from tight spaces, John was aware of all the risks. He could see that the staircase was unsteady and that going into the shaft by itself would be too dangerous.
It was John who decided to form a team. He summoned some friends over to lend a hand. Some might act as spotters while others could help him with the excavation when it was safe enough to explore what was inside the shaft.
Making a strategy
The team assembled the next day and set to work creating a blueprint. They discussed the best course of action as well. One of their first acts was to reinforce and rebuild the concrete framework surrounding the steps.
They built Sonotube cardboard around the entryway to keep everyone safe while they worked. John and his team worked hard to pour concrete layers and secure the rebar inside the hatch.
It took a lot of work.
To protect the team and the hatch, John had to cover the hatch with a tarpaulin. It was starting to become too hot in Arizona. When they took pauses from the heat, they speculated about what might be down there.
We had a lot of work ahead of us in order to get the answers. An electrical line has to be constructed in order to provide sufficient lighting within the shaft and to use power equipment when needed. To bring in fresh air, a black pipe was also installed into the shaft.
figuring out the entrance
They had finally finished building the area around the structure. However, the spiral staircase presented another challenge. The steps were so corroded that it was impossible to determine whether they could sustain any weight. They needed to figure out another way inside without going up the stairs.
John had to take great care to descend the team’s ladder without cutting himself on the rusty steps. John was excited beyond belief. He was going to be the first to figure out the code. It was finally the moment he had been waiting for.
There was still unresolved business.
When they reached the bottom, John was relieved to hear they did not need to dig any deeper. Still, more work needed to be done. The tunnel ceilings’ fiberglass covering was slowly breaking down. This suggested that there was still a risk to the building.
John was shocked to discover, after a thorough inspection, that the structure was essentially undamaged despite being abandoned for nearly fifty years. Later on, even though it was unoccupied at the time, it was found to be John’s backyard nuclear bomb bunker!
starting in the era of the Cold War
It all became obvious at once. The shelter was built during the Cold War, when the United States and the Soviet Union feared full-scale nuclear war. At that point, Whitaker Pools added bomb shelters to their line of business.
Actually, there were bomb shelters on several sites around Tucson. In the case of a nuclear war, that was the best a responsible family man could do at the time to protect his loved ones.
Tucson’s historical past
Bombs and Tucson, it turns out, have a long history together. Tucson was dubbed the “rocket town” because it possessed eighteen ballistic missiles that could cross continents and destroy an area of 900 square miles.
By the conclusion of the Cold War, almost all of the missiles in the missile silos had been rendered unusable, but the government continued to keep them top secret. Most nuclear bunkers were dismantled or shut up in the early 1980s.
growing in acceptance
John shared his garden discovery on Reddit and quickly became well-known. The post has received hundreds of comments in a matter of hours. Local publications and TV shows started getting in touch to set up interviews about it.
The story was covered by international outlets such as the Daily Mail. John’s tale has also been told in Japan. Undoubtedly a noteworthy finding. Tucson locals started to fear as well, in case they had one in their backyard.
What happens after that?
The attention he received helped John make relationships with people in the community who had fallout shelters. He had the chance to ask them about their cleaning procedure and get advice on how to use it going forward.
John wants to build a museum dedicated to the Cold War, but most others turned theirs into wine cellars or man caves. After conducting a great deal of research on the Cold War era, John started collecting relics such as Geiger counters, water supply barrels, HAM radios, and sanitation kits.
His thoughts after making this discovery
“I was really hoping it was going to be a little microcosm… a time capsule full of radiation detectors, cots, civil defense boxes, and stuff like that,” John stated in an interview. Sadly, the bomb shelter was devoid of any furnishings at all.
John also talked about his extensive reading on the Cold War. He believes that the Cuban Missile Crisis was probably the primary cause of Tucson residents’ decision to construct bomb shelters in their backyards during the 1960s.
Suggestions for Tucson residents
John suggests that Tucson locals look through City of Tucson or Pima County data to see whether there is a bomb shelter located in their backyard. The information will probably be in the building permits.
John also warns everyone not to dive in too quickly when someone finds a bomb shelter in the yard. John continued by saying that it’s generally not a good idea to jump into earthly openings because the poisonous air in a tunnel or cave-in can render a person quickly unconscious.
requesting financial support
John intends to completely remodel the bomb shelter. But he didn’t have that much money. He set up a GoFundMe campaign to gather money for the renovation of his bomb bunker from the 1960s. He also planned to restore the interior in addition to the entryway.
John’s first priority was to replace the steps so that everyone could enter safely. John and the remodeling crew may now enter and exit the building safely, something he was only able to do with the money he was able to raise.
I Caught My Husband on Tinder and Messaged Him Using a Fake Account — He Thinks He’s Cheating, but It’s All Part of My Revenge Plan
Deception, betrayal, and a meticulously crafted plan for revenge are at the heart of my story. I thought I knew my husband until I stumbled upon his online escapades. Little did he know his secret affair was about to become the key to my liberation.
The day my friend sent me a link to my husband’s Tinder profile, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Dexter, my husband of ten years, was out there pretending to be single, swiping left and right like a teenager. Fury, confusion, and betrayal hit me all at once.
As days went by, my anger turned cold and calculating. I knew I couldn’t just confront him and have a big fight. That wouldn’t solve anything, especially since I had no job and no source of income after years of taking care of the house and our kids.
I needed a plan. I decided to create a fake Tinder account using photos of a random woman. Let’s call her Leah. It was easy to set up, but finding Dexter’s profile took some time and a lot of nerves.
Finally, his profile came up, with him smiling that same smile that had once made me fall in love. I took a deep breath as I swiped right. Fortunately, we matched right away. GAME ON!
The first step was to build a connection. I knew everything about Dexter: his favorite movie (“The Godfather”), his favorite whiskey (Glenfiddich), and even his secret love for 80s pop music. Using Leah’s profile, I mirrored his interests and crafted a persona that would be irresistible to him.
I made sure to mention my love for “The Godfather” in my bio and put up a picture of Leah holding a glass of Glenfiddich. I knew exactly how to pull him in. We started chatting, and he took the bait. Our conversations were filled with flirty banter and deep talks about life.
“Wow, you love ‘The Godfather’ too?” Dexter messaged. “It’s my all-time favorite movie.”
I replied as Leah, “Yes, it’s a masterpiece! And Glenfiddich is my go-to drink while watching it. What about you?”
“Same here,” he wrote back. “Nothing beats a good movie and a great whiskey.”
He told Leah about his dreams and fears, things he hadn’t shared with me in years. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a rut,” he confided one evening. “I have all these plans, but I can’t seem to make them happen.”
“I’m here for you,” I typed. “You can talk to me about anything.”
Every evening, I’d sit on the couch next to him, pretending to scroll through my phone while he texted Leah. It was surreal, living under the same roof and harboring so many secrets. I’d glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he smiled at his phone, completely engrossed in his messages to Leah.
After a few weeks of daily chats, I knew he was hooked. It was time for phase two: gaining his trust. I started hinting at financial troubles, weaving tales of sudden car repairs and unexpected medical bills.
Over the next few days, I continued to spin stories of desperation to Dexter through Leah’s account. He was eager to help, wanting to be her knight in shining armor. It didn’t take long for him to start transferring money to the account I had set up.
“I don’t ever want you to feel alone, Leah. You can always count on me,” he texted Leah one day while sitting right next to me. “Remember, I’m only a message away.”
This Dexter that I had come to know as Leah was someone I didn’t recognize as Phoebe. It pained me to continue the game, but I knew I had to keep going.
Each sob story I fed him made him more determined to save this imaginary woman. Living this double life was exhausting but thrilling. Every day, I played the devoted wife, making breakfast for our kids and chatting with Dexter about his day at work.
Every night, I transformed into Leah, the damsel in distress who had him wrapped around her finger. “Dex, I don’t know how to thank you enough,” I texted. “You’ve been my rock through all of this.”
“I just want to see you happy,” he responded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I watched as he fell deeper into the trap, blinded by his infatuation and guilt. He was constantly checking his phone, eager for Leah’s messages, completely unaware of the truth that lay just beneath the surface.
The third step was all about increasing the stakes. With his trust secured, I began to ask for larger amounts, weaving elaborate stories that played on his desire to be a hero. One evening, I texted him as Leah, “Dex, I don’t know what to do. My car broke down, and the repair costs are way more than I can afford. I’m so scared I’ll lose my job if I can’t get to work.”
He replied almost instantly, “Don’t worry, Leah. I’ll take care of it. How much do you need?”
“About $1,500,” I wrote back, holding my breath.
“Consider it done,” he replied, and minutes later, the money was in my account.
Each transaction brought me closer to my goal. I asked for help with rent and then “emergency” medical procedures for a sick family member. Dexter was more than willing to help, convinced he was the hero Leah needed. What he didn’t realize was that he was funding my escape.
While he was distracted by his affair, I meticulously planned my departure. I found a new place to live, made arrangements for the kids, and discreetly packed our essentials.
Every day, I gathered a little more evidence of his infidelity and financial transactions, making sure I had enough to protect myself if he tried to contest anything later. I took screenshots of our chats, saved copies of bank statements, and even recorded a few of our conversations where he talked about his “true feelings” for Leah.
“Leah, I feel like I can be honest with you,” he wrote one evening. “I’ve never felt this way before. You understand me in a way no one else does.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I replied, heart pounding. “I care about you a lot, Dex.”
“I care about you too,” he responded. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we could be together for real. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might be falling for you.”
Reading his confession, I felt a mix of anger and satisfaction. I saved the conversation, knowing it would be crucial later. He had no idea that his heartfelt messages were sealing his fate.
The final step was to reveal my plan. I knew the perfect way to do it. I sent him a final message from the fake account, arranging a meet-up at a fancy restaurant.
“Dex, I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I think it’s time we finally meet in person. How about dinner at The Grand at 8 p.m. this Friday?”
He replied within seconds, “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Leah. I’ll be there.”
On the day of the meeting, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it.
I dressed in my best outfit, a simple yet elegant black dress that Dexter always said was his favorite. I wanted to look my best when I confronted him. I arrived at The Grand a bit early and took a seat at a quiet corner table where I could see the entrance clearly.
I ordered a glass of wine and sat there, watching the clock tick closer to 8 p.m. Finally, Dexter walked in, looking around eagerly. He was wearing the suit I had bought him for our anniversary a few years ago. He looked nervous but excited, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
As he scanned the room, I stood up and walked over to him. “Dexter,” I said, my voice steady.
He turned, his eyes widening in shock. “Phoebe? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied, holding up a folder. “But I think you know.”
He looked at the folder, confusion and panic mixing on his face. “What’s that?”
“Let’s sit down,” I suggested, guiding him to the table I had been sitting at. He followed, still looking dazed.
Once we were seated, I placed the folder in front of him. “Open it,” I said.
With shaking hands, he opened the folder and began to go through the contents. Inside were screenshots of our conversations, evidence of his infidelity, and a detailed list of all the money he had sent to Leah’s account—my account. His face turned pale as he realized he had been played.
“I knew all along,” I said calmly, watching him. “This was my way of getting back at you and securing my freedom. The money you sent to your ‘lover’ will help me and the kids start a new life away from you.”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and anger. “Phoebe, I can explain—”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I cut him off. “You betrayed me, Dexter. You made vows to me, and you broke them. Now, you’re going to face the consequences.”
He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing the evidence was undeniable. There was nothing he could say to make it better or take back what he had done.
I stood up, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I’m leaving, Dexter. Don’t try to find us, and don’t think you can contest anything. I have all the evidence I need to make sure you don’t.”
He sat there, stunned, as I walked out of the restaurant. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and freedom as I left him behind. That evening, I moved into our new home, taking the kids with me. The money I had accumulated ensured we were comfortable and had a fresh start.
The new place was cozy, nothing extravagant but perfect for us. The kids were a bit confused at first, but I explained it was a new adventure. They were excited about their new rooms, and I felt a sense of relief knowing we were safe and away from Dexter’s deceit.
Over the next few days, I settled into our new life. I enrolled the kids in a new school and started looking for a job. With the money Dexter had unwittingly provided, we were stable for the time being. I even found myself smiling more, feeling lighter than I had in years.
One evening, as I was tucking the kids into bed, my daughter looked up at me and said, “Mom, are we going to be okay?”
I smiled and kissed her forehead. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re going to be just fine.”
As I sat in the living room later, sipping a cup of tea, I reflected on everything that had happened. Revenge is best served cold, and Dexter learned that the hard way. He thought he was cheating, but he was just falling into my trap. Now, I am free, financially secure, and ready to move forward without him.
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