TAKING IT TO THE STREETS

Hull Cove man raises nuclear war awareness


William Wharton Smith III on his Hull Cove property inside his 2001 Toyota Tacoma, which he painted to raise awareness about the U.N.’s Nuclear Weapon Ban Treaty. Smith is concerned because the United States has not ratified the pact. PHOTO BY ANDREA VON HOHENLEITEN

William Wharton Smith III on his Hull Cove property inside his 2001 Toyota Tacoma, which he painted to raise awareness about the U.N.’s Nuclear Weapon Ban Treaty. Smith is concerned because the United States has not ratified the pact. PHOTO BY ANDREA VON HOHENLEITEN

The Enola Gay, a Boeing B-29 Superfortress owned by the U.S. Air Force, introduced mankind to the atomic bomb in August 1945.

Nearly 74 years later, and almost 7,000 miles away, a dented Japanese pickup truck owned by William Wharton Smith III is denouncing that threat.

Smith, a woodworker whose family built Horsehead, has lived on Hull Cove Farm Road since 1972. It’s a modest piece of property by Beavertail standards, a single-floor ranch measuring 1,400 square feet. Built during Teddy Roosevelt’s presidency, there is no waterfront, no tennis court, no pool.

Yet Smith’s property stands out from his neighbors. While there is nothing unique about the year, make and model of the 2001 Toyota Tundra parked in his yard, the white truck is distinctive. Scrawled across its body, in bold red and black letters, is a message in all caps: “Honk to ban n-weapons.”

Smith, 72, painted those words because he understands the consequences of a worldwide war in which nuclear power is unleashed. Those forces, he said, would result in the Earth embarking on a nuclear winter that would dim the sun, halt farming and, ultimately, exterminate his species. The only answer,

Smith said, is prohibition.

“It has been an actual miracle that we have not blown ourselves up over the past 60 years,” he said.

An educated fear

Smith isn’t a crazy person in a tinfoil hat who spends his days isolated from the rest of the world in a bomb shelter. Married with three children, he transports furniture for his Nicaraguan carpentry shop, Liberty Carvings Inc. Although he leads a relatively normal life, the threat of nuclear war always has been in the back of his mind. This consternation comes from a breadth of information, he said, not irrational fear.

After 40 years on the front lines, Smith doesn’t have the luxury of ignorance, which would be especially bliss in the face of a pending apocalypse. As a schoolboy, he practiced duck-and-cover drills during the Cold War, learning at an early age that nuclear war was no joke.

“Although I doubt hiding under a desk would have helped,” he quipped.

After graduating from Harvard University in 1969, Smith joined the Peace Corps as a diesel engine mechanic. While he was dispatched for a year-long tour to India, he received a copy of Garrett De Bell’s “Environmental Handbook” from his sister, which fostered a lifelong commitment to green energy. But it wasn’t until Smith returned stateside from Asia that he became a foot solider in the fight against nuclear power.

For the next decade, Smith was committed to spreading his message. From 1971-72, he worked as press secretary for the Environmental Coalition on Nuclear Power while the watchdog organization was protesting nuclear plants in Philadelphia.

When he moved to Hull Cove, in a house his family had used as a summer cottage since 1955, his disregard for nuclear energy arrived with him. He served as spokesman for a volunteer committee that was influential in defeating Narragansett Electric’s proposed plant at the defunct naval air station in Charlestown.

He also participated in civil disobedience protests against the Seabrook plant in New Hampshire, which led to his arrest, and then joined Mobilization for Survival, a nationwide movement that was linking nuclear power plants with the proliferation of nuclear weapons. By this time, the United States was no longer the lone nuclear state; Russia, England, France, China, Israel and India had joined the ranks.

Following the million-man Nuclear Freeze march in June 1982 in New York City, which was heralded as the largest political demonstration in American history, Smith began demonstrating closer to home. He lobbied state senators to pass a resolution that called for a nuclear test ban, distributing sample ballots of the measure to Rhode Islanders in South County.

He also started to practice what he preached, erecting a 2.5 kilowatt windmill on his property in 1976. He was off the grid for 15 years, but when electricity prices rose, Smith installed rooftop solar panels. These systems continue to work with little maintenance.

“The solar power supplements the wind energy quite nicely in this climate,” he said.

As the ’90s approached, Smith and his wife, Rosita, started their family, which, along with his burgeoning business, forced a hiatus in front-line activism. Instead, he’s undertaken more conservative approaches, such as the annual protests at East Ferry during the anniversaries of the Hiroshima bombing.

“I was not so active with courting nonviolent arrests,” he said.

A new development, however, has revitalized his passion.

Ending the threat

Smith’s unmistakable truck, which he drives as far north as Boston, provides more than awareness.

“It’s not a protest,” he said. “It’s education.”

Smith’s goal is for America to sign the Nuclear Weapon Ban Treaty, a comprehensive agreement to prohibit these weapons around the globe. Passed in 2017 by the United Nations, the treaty has been ratified by 21 countries, including Mexico, Cuba and Vietnam. The pact, however, does not take effect until 50 countries endorse the agreement. The United States, which has the most devastating nuclear arsenal in the world, didn’t even approve the language.

“Our newspapers have given it little or no publicity,” Smith said. “So, now I’m publicizing it with my truck.”

Because he can’t fit all the pertinent information on a single vehicle, below the signature message is the website NuclearBan.us, a recognized nonprofit organization “committed to the total elimination of nuclear weapons.” It’s a one-stop shop for resources related to the dangers of nuclear power.

Also fueling Smith’s resurgence against nuclear power was Daniel Ellsburg’s 2017 book, “The Doomsday Machine,” which details the haphazard policies that control these weapons. In the past, Smith said, nuclear warheads had almost been triggered by rising full moons and flocks of geese.

“Authority to use nuclear weapons is delegated down the chain of command, from the generals to the colonels to the actual launch officers and jet airplane pilots,” he said. “If they believe themselves cut off from the chain of command, they are to launch these weapons.”

While Smith believes the treaty ultimately will be ratified, with or without U.S. approval, he wants to spread awareness to speed up the process. He’s encouraging his neighbors with beat-up trucks to share the message across the bodies of their vehicles. For owners who would rather not vandalize their luxury cars, Smith has bumper stickers. If neither of these options are amenable, he is encouraging a simple honk in support of eliminating “the most terrible destructive force ever harnessed by man,” which was reported by the Los Angeles Times, Aug. 7, 1945.

“This is a terrible burden on our psychosis,” Smith said. “The treaty offers us a way out. It will be ratified. It will happen. But maybe not in my lifetime.”