Why I Prep…..

by P. Tabakaru Jr.

I’m still new to prepping…with that said. I suppose in actuality I’ve been trained to prep my whole life.


My parents were German immigrants both had experienced WWII first hand. They came to America in 1952 with my 2 sisters and brother. My mother having been born in Bulgaria in the 20’s was of German decent, and my father coming from Romania was also of German decent. During The Third Reich’s regime, one of their agendas was the return of all Germans to Germany. So to sum it up my Mother saw many refugee camps in her life time. These we full of people that were up-rooted and made to travel with whatever belongings they can carry; mostly on foot. This was before the war.  My Father’s story was similar to my Mothers; with the exception of being drafted into the German Mariners (similar to the German Marine corp. part of their Naval forces) He spent most of his time on a mountain in Norway monitoring Allied forces radio transmissions and occasionally pulling guard duty on the big guns in the mountains. (My Father really didn’t like to talk about his time in the military, too many friends lost, too much heartache).  Well fast forward to the end of the war…My Mother and Father were united in a refugee camp in Bessarabia Moldova.


After they were married they were living in the city of Heilbronn in Germany. There was much rubble and destruction and the only way to survive was by scavenging, My Father gathered old clocks and watches from the rubble and started fixing them to resell or return to the original owners if there was an engraving or plaque attached to the item mostly they were bartered for food and necessity items.


Fast forward to 1960’s New Jersey. My parents were opening their second jewelry store, and building their new Home in Wayne NJ. My parents were always frugal; we had a bomb shelter under the concrete front porch with blast door access through a sub- basement storage room. Yes, we had 2 levels under ground level. Of course it was built during the time when we were under the threat of nuclear annihilation from Russia. I remember the cots and the bathroom in the fallout shelter, and the shelves of canned food in the storage room. Rain water storage tanks as well.


My parents Moved to upstate NY in the 70’s after a robbery at one of the stores. They were looking to get back to roots…they purchased a 300 acre farm raised 200-350 head of sheep. We always had a garden (even in NJ) we always had chickens, Pigs, even a cow (but not for milk) for meat, all the lamb chops you can eat, I even had sheep skin seat covers in my car even before they were popular. My father knew how to tan the hides (unfortunately, I did not retain that information) my mother taught me to cook, garden, knit, crochet, sew. My father taught me to fix things (he was a jack of all trades), raise animals, hunt, and fish, slaughter animals for food. They both taught me to use my mind to think things through, do what I can with what I have and most of all, be prepared in mind, soul, and body and the ability to teach my children and grandchildren the same. Both of my parents are gone, some of my favorite memories are of my Mother talking to me about the ways of the refugee camps, people pulling together and making “stone soup” (if you don’t know what that is look it up)…I would hope that if the SHTF people will gather into self-sufficient groups…after all mankind is a social creature, one that is good at heart…not everyone will be trying to take what you have. (Although there will be some).


Just my two cents worth.

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1 Comment

  1. Great story. You are lucky that your parents prepared you so well. I also love the “stone soup” story. It came out of the experiences of the retreat from Russia of Napoleon’s forces when so many starved to death. It is so true that we cannot isolate ourselves if we are to survive. We have to be part of a community and pool our resources and talents. The problem will be in surviving to set up that community.

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