Byron Center — Just south of Grand Rapids, brothers Ken and Bob Fein, along with their friend Buzz Bailey, were all outside playing in the snow in 1945. It was late in the afternoon when a massive blob floated over their heads. They tried to make out what it was. A gull? Not quite. A kite? Too big. Mostly deflated and rapidly descending, the boys watched in excitement as it landed in a neighbor’s field.
They wouldn’t learn the relevance of this blob until much later.
The fact is, on Feb. 23, 1945, Michigan was attacked. World War II made its way to the farmlands of North Dorr, in the form of a Japanese war balloon. It was one of thousands that were launched from Japan, after years of extensive research. These balloons were loaded with bombs and sandbags in a chandelier-shaped rig, tied with rope, and set into the wind to cross the Pacific.
The plan was that the balloons would follow the jet stream over the Pacific Ocean and eventually fall, with the help of the sandbags, and trigger two 11-pound incendiaries and one 33-pound high explosive bomb. Once the bombs went off, it was set to self destruct in a huge flash of hydrogen.
The balloons were meant to cause wildfires, panic, and boost morale for the Japanese back home, who were still licking their wounds from the Battle of Midway. Luckily, the Japanese had to launch the balloons during the winter, and it was quite cold and wet in most of the U.S. during this time, disrupting their trajectories.
But bombs are still bombs, and a few did make it over with their payloads intact.
One such balloon landed in southern Oregon in 1945. A minister, his pregnant wife, and some of their Sunday school children were out for a picnic when they came across the strange object. The minister’s wife, Elsye Mitchell, called to her husband to let him know about the object, as he parked the car. He hurried back, calling out a warning to be careful, but it was too late. He heard a large explosion. Elsye, her unborn child, and the other children with her died in the blast.
There was no public knowledge about these war balloons as the three Michigan kids spotted the huge balloon overhead. The young boys were excited about the long rope attached to the balloon, a scarce resource in wartime, and thought it would be useful around the farm. They asked a family friend if he could help them by using his pickup truck to get it out.
The gang pulled out the tangled balloon and all the rope attached to it, and the family friend dragged it in his truck back to the Feins’ house and into their basement. Their mother called the local priest to come by to help assess the object, who suggested they call the authorities.
It didn’t take long for the basement to be filled with FBI agents and military personnel, who, much to the disappointment of the boys, took the balloon away. Everyone was told to stay quiet about what they had seen. And that, supposedly, was that.
But those boys still wondered: What was that thing? It certainly wasn’t made out of any canvas they’d seen. And why were they told to stay quiet?
The answers would come decades later, from the extensive research done by MSU librarian Michael E. Unsworth, who was working on a military periodical and researching Fu-Go in the early 1980s. He researched with others on the potential biological and chemical agents that might have been included in these devices. He uncovered quite a lot on the Fu-Go balloon campaign and the tracks it left in Michigan. When he came to North Dorr with his research in 1985, the boys were surprised.
Unsworth and Ken Fein sat down and pieced together the memories of the massive balloon he’d seen. It was indeed a Japanese Fu-Go balloon, created by Japan’s Noborito Research Institute and sent among thousands, from November 1944 to April 1945, in an act of deadly wartime retaliation.
At first, the American government kept a lid on these balloons during the war, because they didn’t want the Japanese to know where their balloons landed and gather data to fine-tune their process. After the tragic attack in Oregon, the feds sent out limited information regarding the balloons, and Michigan had a slew of sightings. Most turned out to be nothing, but a Farmington Hills man found a piece from a second Fu-Go balloon. Only two Fu-Go balloons on record made it east of the Mississippi, and both landed in Michigan.
Despite its minimal publicity, the Japanese were able to glean one thing from their lack of widespread impact: Not many made it over. Of the thousands launched, only 200 to 300 made it over the Pacific Ocean.
Now, 80 years after those three boys watched history float down into their field, I sat with Byron Center Historical Society president, Theresa Kiel, who is also the granddaughter of Chris Stein, whose field was where the balloon originally landed in North Dorr. Together, we went over old clippings, documentary footage, and various eyewitness accounts.
Theresa told me that after the FBI confiscated the balloon from the Feins’ basement, it eventually made its way into the hands of Donald Piccard. While both of his parents are record-breaking balloonists, Donald learned firsthand from his mother, Jeanette, by joining a crew at Ford Airport in Dearborn, as she became the first woman to fly to the edge of space. His uncle, Jacques Piccard, was one of the first men to visit the Marianas Trench. Donald’s grandfather was the first man to fly to the stratosphere. The Piccard family even ballooned together over Lake Erie in a record-breaking flight in 1934. Ballooning is in the Piccard blood.
The FBI report from 1945, now declassified, describes the balloon when it was first found. Most of the chandelier rig was gone, and its payload was never seen. A large metal valve had the number 6028 written in chalk. The main rope lines were about 40-feet-long, with some rope strands and knots showing signs of weathering and scorch marks. The torn balloon was impossible to size up at the time in Mr. Fein’s basement, but investigators estimated it to be about 30- to 40-feet-long.
As both a serviceman and a balloonist, Donald Piccard recognized the ingenuity of the craft, and after the military testing of recovered balloons was completed, he kept Fu-Go 6028.
A few years later, when the U.S. created the Air Force, there was finally a moment for Fu-Go publicity. Donald needed one solo flight for his own balloonist pilot license, and he saw it as the perfect opportunity. He lifted off in Minneapolis in the Japanese paper balloon, modified for flight, and landed a few hours later.
Unsworth continued his work through the 45th anniversary of the crash in 1990, presenting his findings through guest lectures over the following years at universities, libraries, and even a public park a few miles from the crash site in 2017.
Sparking renewed interest, the story of the Michigan Fu-Go made its way to the inbox of a reporter at the local TV station. The reporter contacted Piccard, asking if Fu-Go balloon 6028 was still in his possession. It had been preserved in a drum in his garage for 72 years, and the survivors of the North Dorr attack took notice. With the Byron Center Historical Society, they reached out to Piccard to recover the balloon and were asked to take out their checkbooks. After raising funds, Theresa, her husband, and a few others drove over to Minnesota in 2017, and $10,000 later, the balloon had made its way back to the Mitten.
Once back, the group opened the barrel and raised it up in their own memoriam outside their local church, with the help of museum exhibitor Valerie VenHeest and an industrial fan. It may not have left the ground, but the last living boy to see it land, Buzz Bailey, was there to see its return.
There aren’t very many Fu-Gos left in existence. The Smithsonian has a few, as does a New Mexico balloon museum. In time, Byron Center will be added to the list of public displays.
The North Dorr balloon and the large metal valve now rest in a large wooden crate at the Byron Center Historical Society and Museum. The balloon panels, referred to as envelopes, are made up of mulberry leaves, stuck together with potato paste. Each panel was made by schoolgirls in Japan, who were unaware of what the finished product would be. The rope the North Dorr kids wanted to play with was still attached to the balloon, and burn marks still line the end where the explosive chandelier was once rigged.
“It’s quite incredible really, what this is. How they put it all together, it was ingenious,” Theresa says.
I agree, though never has agreement left such a sour note. “Really makes you think about those Chinese spy balloons, doesn’t it?”
Twenty or so more Fu-Go balloons have been discovered since the end of World War II, and it’s estimated that there are potentially more out there, undiscovered.
Something to remember: Bombs don’t expire.
Devinn Dakohta is a contributing writer for Michigan Enjoyer. Follow her on Instagram @Devinn.Dakohta and X @DevinnDakohta.
