Robert Franklin: Okay, let’s go. My name is Robert Franklin. I’m conducting an oral history interview with Sharon Kent on July 26, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. I will be talking with Sharon Kent about her experiences growing up in Richland. So, I—the best place to start is at the beginning. So when and where were you born?
Sharon Kent: When was I born?
Franklin: Yeah.
Kent: In 1941. I was born in Salt Lake City.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: But we were one of the first people that moved into Richland. In fact, we lived in Moses Lake and Sunnyside until the prefabs were built.
Franklin: Okay. So coming to Richland at that young of an age, you had to have had family that worked at Hanford.
Kent: My father worked here, yes.
Franklin: Okay. Then what did he do at Hanford?
Kent: I think he was a policeman at that time, but I’m not sure. I know he was a policeman, and when he retired he was a safety engineer.
Franklin: So he had several different jobs then.
Kent: Yeah, right.
Franklin: When did he retire?
Kent: Well, he died in 2000.
Franklin: Oh, wow. He lived for quite a long time.
Kent: Yeah. And probably 1980 would be my guess, but I really—I don’t know. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Okay, well—
Kent: Whatever 65 was, he retired. And he was born in 1913.
Franklin: Okay. ’76. So needless to say, he spent most of his career out—he had a long career at Hanford.
Kent: Right.
Franklin: Okay, wow. That’s really—and did he have any other jobs besides policeman and safety engineer?
Kent: Well, you mean a side job?
Franklin: Any other job, any other careers out there or jobs out there?
Kent: At Hanford, no.
Franklin: No? Okay. Do you know how your father found out about—what was he doing before he came here?
Kent: He was at a plant in Utah and a lot of people came from it. I can’t remember the name, but a lot of people came from that particular plant. I don’t know if they went there. I guess they went there and told people about it and a lot of them came here.
Franklin: Do you know what kind of plant it was?
Kent: No, I don’t. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Okay. Did your father talk much about his work as a policeman? Maybe not during the time, but after, did he talk about where he patrolled or anything interesting he saw, or--?
Kent: No. Not that I can remember. We just talked about—what I remember, one time he said—this is probably too far—but somebody asked him if he knew what they were doing here. And he gave this answer and he says, sir, don’t say that to anybody. [LAUGHTER] So he’d figured out pretty close what they were doing. But I—you know—I don’t know. We just—I was young enough that—in fact, my first memory is the day that Japan surrendered in the Second World War. I can remember we were lived in a prefab, and the sirens were going. They had sirens at noon and different sirens. And my mother and all the people were outside yelling. I can remember my mother says, our brothers are coming home, our brothers are coming home! And that’s my first memory.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Kent: So I don’t remember any of the problems people had during the war with lack of this and that. Just the prosperous time. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right. What size of prefab did you live in?
Kent: We lived in a three-bedroom, and because we lived in a three-bedroom, at one point they had a gentleman living with us.
Franklin: Oh!
Kent: And I don’t remember that. But right at the very end, before we moved—just before we moved, Mother had the third baby. And we didn’t have anybody living with us. And I remember—it must have been a peach orchard, because I remember peach trees.
Franklin: Oh, wow. That makes sense, because most of the prefabs were on the western side of Richland at that time which had been orchards.
Kent: Right.
Franklin: And I’ve heard stories from other people about all of the fruit orchards that were there in that side of town. So where did your family move to after the prefab?
Kent: We moved to 321 Goethals, which is now 321 Jadwin. And that was an H house. And that’s pretty close to—[LAUGHTER]—I forgot the school. Lewis and Clark.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: And we were real close to—there was a market there and a gas station. I remember—we didn’t have freezers in our home then. So there was just one house between us and the market, so we would rent a space in the freezer and go get it. I remember going in there once and pushing the alarm button. [LAUGHTER] Oh, kids! I thought, oh, boy. I was a pretty good kid, but I—[LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Did you know it was an alarm button?
Kent: Yes, I did. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Oh, a troublemaker.
Kent: Not usually. [LAUGHTER] Not usually.
Franklin: How long did your family live in the H house for?
Kent: Well, the family—I got married in 1959—the end of ’59, and they were still there. They moved out of the H house when—let’s see. Sterling was three years old, and he was born in 1966. So ’69.
Franklin: Oh, wow. So then your family purchased the H house after Richland—
Kent: Yes, they did.
Franklin: After Richland became a [INAUDIBLE]?
Kent: They did.
Franklin: Do you know offhand how much they would have paid for that?
Kent: What comes in my mind was $7,000. My husband-to-be lived around the corner and up a ways, and his two-bedroom prefab, I believe, was between $2,000 and $3,000.
Franklin: Oh, wow. So you grew up next to—how did you meet your husband-to-be?
Kent: Well, he lived, like I say, close by, but where we actually met was at church.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: There was a group of people that—young people that would get together, because there were soldiers here. And then there were people like my husband that had been in the Korean War and had their education and they still weren’t married. So there were a lot more men than there were women. So one summer when a lot of the girls left, they went down to a younger age girls that were part of this group. My husband happened to be the oldest, and I happened to be the youngest.
Franklin: How much older was your husband?
Kent: 13 years.
Franklin: Oh, wow!
Kent: Yeah, that’s what my mother said. [LAUGHTER] But she didn’t know how old he was until—at the reception.
Franklin: Wow. What age were you when you met him?
Kent: Met him? I was 15 or 16.
Franklin: How long after that did you get married?
Kent: I got married at 18.
Franklin: Okay. Interesting. And then did you settle in Richland after that?
Kent: Yes. My husband was working—I don’t remember—GE. Then it was GE. And we got married in December, and in September we left. My husband got a full fellowship for Berkeley in health physics.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Kent: So we went there and then when we came back, we came back and came back here.
Franklin: When would you have left? Do you remember what year that would have been? When you left to go—sorry—when you left to go to Berkeley?
Kent: 1960.
Franklin: So then Richland had passed into private. So tell me—I imagine that leaving—because you—so you were born in Salt Lake City, but really your formative years were in Richland. I imagine moving to Berkeley would have probably been quite a culture shock.
Kent: Well, it was very different, that was for sure. My in-laws lived close by and my brother-in-law worked at Berkeley as a paleontologist. So we saw them often, and that helped a great deal.
Franklin: How so?
Kent: Just knowing family was close by.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: I didn’t feel like I’d just been let off. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Can you describe some of the ways in which Berkeley was different from—or some of the kind of maybe new experiences or differences that you encountered at Berkeley?
Kent: Well, the buildings were a whole lot older. And we lived in a very old two-story house, and we had the basement apartment. I remember we went to Goodwill or something like that and got one of those wringer washing machines and hung the sheets out. But my husband knew his way around and this type of thing. So it was a much bigger city—much bigger area. When we settle in a place, we go and take advantage of it. So we saw a lot and did a lot.
Franklin: So your husband was from the area, then, originally?
Kent: Yes. He was born in San Francisco.
Franklin: Oh, okay. And how did he get to Richland originally?
Kent: I don’t know; when he graduated from Berkeley with a physics degree, he somehow got to Richland. I don’t—
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Kent: Yeah, I guess GE.
Franklin: And he’d been in the Korean War before that?
Kent: He was in the Korean War, and he did that so his education was paid for.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Kent: He knew that—you know, that was the way to get an education. His brother was already in the Korean War, so he didn’t have to join, because there were just the two boys. And if one’s in the war, the second one doesn’t—you know.
Franklin: Doesn’t get drafted.
Kent: But he wanted to get an education, and this was the way to get it. And he said it worked for him.
Franklin; Do you know what he did when he was in the Korean War?
Kent: Yes. He repaired Sabrejets—the radar equipment in Sabrejets.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Kent: So he was about 55 miles from the line.
Franklin: Okay. Backing up a bit, what did your—did your mother have a job at Hanford or working during the war or after the war?
Kent: Yes. When I was a teenager, they called and begged her, begged her and begged her. She says, I don’t want to go to work. I have children. And to work in one of the libraries. So she went to work and it turned out she enjoyed it. And I remember there was a graduate school—somehow there was schooling there. It wasn’t a campus like this, but she worked in that library.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Kent: And I remember I could go with her sometimes.
Franklin: And how long did she work there?
Kent: I don’t know. I know then she went out in the Area and then she worked in the Richland City Library.
Franklin: What do you mean, out in the Area? You said then she went out in the Area?
Kent: She worked for Battelle.
Franklin: Oh, she worked for Battelle, okay. Out onsite. Or at the--?
Kent: That’s what I thought.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: I’m not—I could make mistakes, but—
Franklin: Oh, no, that’s totally understandable. And then you said she worked for Richland?
Kent: Richland City Library, yeah.
Franklin: So how long did you and your husband live in Berkeley for?
Kent: One year.
Franklin: Just one year? Okay. Then what happened after?
Kent: Then we came—oh. He decided—he got his degree in physics, and he got his fellowship in health physics, and that wasn’t the right field.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Kent: So he came back in physics, and then as soon as computers came to the Federal Building, he went into computers. And that was definitely his thing. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Really?
Kent: Oh, yeah.
Franklin: Then he worked with computers for the rest of his career?
Kent: Right.
Franklin: Wow. So those would have been the days of punch cards and the—yeah. What did—you said he worked with computers; do you know a little more about what he did in the Federal Building with the computers?
Kent: No. All I know is—well, I remember my daughter, my youngest daughter was old enough to remember the incident. They let us go down, and it was in the basement of the Federal Building. We couldn’t go into the room, but they had these white coverall things on, and it was temperature-controlled and everything. And she was old enough to remember. That was the first computer I saw. That was my youngest child, so—[LAUGHTER] And then it wasn’t too much longer before we had a computer in our home. And my husband said, this runs circles around what was in the Federal Building. But at the time, the Federal Building, it was phenomenal.
Franklin: Wow. So was it a large mainframe?
Kent: Rooms and rooms—yeah. Room after room after—
Franklin: Wow. Do you have any siblings? I forgot to ask.
Kent: I do. I have two sisters and three brothers.
Franklin: Older, younger—or where are you?
Kent: I’m the oldest.
Franklin: You’re the oldest, okay. So were they all born in Washington?
Kent: No, my sister that’s younger than me, she was also born in Salt Lake City.
Franklin: Okay. And the others were born in Washington?
Kent: Right, Richland.
Franklin: Okay, and what’s the age difference between you and your youngest?
Kent: Youngest?
Franklin: Yeah.
Kent: 19 years.
Franklin: Oh my. That’s a good span. And how many children did you have?
Kent: I have five.
Franklin: Five children as well. And you said your son was born in 1966?
Kent: ’60. Oh—the third son—or the fourth son was ’66.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Kent: The oldest was 1960. And then I had four sons and then in 1972, we had our daughter, and she was born on the first day of school that my youngest went to first grade.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Kent: [LAUGHTER] So I’ve never had much alone time until the last ten years, after my husband died. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Finally some peace and quiet in the house.
Kent: Yeah. I’m surprised that you haven’t asked me about what life was like when I was a child. I had some interesting—
Franklin: I was getting there, but please, take over.
Kent: Oh, okay.
Franklin: No, no, no, go ahead.
Kent: Well, what I remember was before the houses were owned, there were no fences. So there were no big dogs.
Franklin: Interesting.
Kent: You just—you didn’t own your yard, so you just walked through and everybody—you know. We just walked through the middle to go to the grocery store and whatnot. And I liked it that way. I didn’t have any problems with the neighbors. Some other people did but, I, myself, didn’t. It was just so different once they bought the houses and built these fences. Of course, then, that’s when the big dogs come in. Before, they weren’t—you know. There weren’t the big dogs—I don’t remember—where I lived. There were cats and we had a dachshund that we kept in the yard—you couldn’t just let them run.
Franklin: Right, so I guess they would have been indoor pets a lot of the time. Because without the fences they could just run off.
Kent: Yeah, to me, it just made such a huge difference once those fences went up.
Franklin: Oh, I bet. Well—
Kent: It was just a whole different feeling. It wasn’t near as warm and friendly. Whereas—and then there were a lot fewer people then, too. You know, you felt like you knew everybody. In fact, I think it was only about 20 years ago before I went anywhere that I didn’t see somebody that I knew.
Franklin: Wow.
Kent: [LAUGHTER] And then all of the sudden I go places all the time that I don’t know somebody.
Franklin: Right, right. What about—I guess it’s interesting to hear you say that, with this lack of fence—because we, nowadays, we associate fences and things like that, with the feeling of security and privacy. But you’re saying, at least for you as a child, it was much more of an open, friendly feeling.
Kent: Well, that’s what it was to me, but like I—you know. Nobody teased me. I had a brother that got teased something fierce, but nobody bothered me. So it felt good to me.
Franklin: To just kind of be able to wander around.
Kent: Right.
Franklin: And what did you do for fun, growing up, what kinds of activities did you do?
Kent: Well, we went swimming. My dad enjoyed swimming and they had a pool down in Howard Amon Park. They had the little pool and then they had the big pool. If you went to the big pool, you had to be a certain age—I can’t remember—if you went without your parent, and you could only swim for one hour. But if you were with an adult, you could swim all the time. And there just happened to be a lady that lived across the street that liked to swim that didn’t have any children that liked to take us. So we didn’t have to stand in line, we just went in and swam as long as we could. I always loved the river, and swimming was something I did a lot of.
Franklin: Was the pool in the river, or close to the river--?
Kent: Close to the river. You know where that little pool is now at Howard Amon Park?
Franklin: Yes.
Kent: It was right close to there. And the tennis courts—my husband and I played on the tennis courts. I’m sure that they have renewed the surface, but it’s the same place as when my husband and I played. And he claims we played at 115, but I keep saying the weather man never says it got that hot. But it was plenty hot.
Franklin: I’m sure it felt like 115.
Kent: We—you know, there was no air conditioning. There were swamp coolers, but my mother had asthma, so we couldn’t have a swamp cooler. So I felt very put-upon until I got married and my husband had a wall air conditioner. I just thought I was in the Ritz.
Franklin: [LAUGHTER]
Kent: But we had an interesting—we were in Lewis and Clark, and supposedly there were a canoe out there that was decayed. And supposedly, it was from Lewis and Clark, I think. My brother’s wondering if it wasn’t from the Wanapum Indians. But the other thing, we had a principal named Lee Carlson. And he went around traveling around the United States. He was a rock hound, and he got these big, big blocks of the state rock. And on George Washington Way—oh, just north of Lee, on the east side, I—oh, yeah, it was a theater, the Liberty Theater. And anyway, they built this water fountain and had each one of these rocks from the state. And I’ve often wondered what happened to that, because it was very nice. I hope they put it somewhere, but if they have, I haven’t heard about it. Also, it wasn’t—then in those days, not very many people traveled that widely, so it was very interesting to—you know.
Franklin: Oh, right. Well, especially, I imagine, growing up in Richland, until ’58, the only people that could live in Richland were people—employees of Hanford. So I imagine that, as you were saying earlier, always knowing everybody, I imagine that would be exceptionally true in Richland where everyone you knew worked at Hanford, or was a family of someone who worked at Hanford. So the community had kind of a close knit feeling?
Kent: It did to me.
Franklin: What else about your childhood strikes you?
Kent: Well, I was in high school when the houses sold. And other than the Globetrotters—anyway, I had hardly seen black people, other than when they came in town. They did a thing at Columbia High School that’s now Richland High School. And then the houses sold and four black families—maybe more than that—moved in. But anyway, they were in high school and the two brothers were CW Brown and I can’t remember his brother—Norris. And he was married to one of the girls. And the other brother, Norris, was engaged to other. They were really good at basketball and we got number one at state in basketball that year. There were other great men, too, but I don’t think anybody contested the fact that they were a big thing.
Franklin: Really?
Kent: Big part of it. And I never saw any—I was raised without prejudice because I didn’t see it, if you know what I mean. And another interesting story is I went to high school with Sharon Tate.
Franklin: Really?
Kent: And the incident I remember is I was in the bathroom, and there was a lady—well, a girl I guess, and anyway Sharon Tate was there by the sink. This big black girl asked her if she would help her, and she says, very graciously, said yes. I mean, you just didn’t see any prejudice. And that was my—so when I hear about this other stuff—in fact, people would come to our high school. This one girl just came from the South and was talking about all these murders and this kind of thing. I just hadn’t seen it.
Franklin: You mean during the Civil Rights era?
Kent: Right, right. Like I say, I saw no prejudice whatsoever.
Franklin: It’s very interesting you mention Sharon Tate, because I used to ask that question of people who grew up here, and I’d never met anybody yet who had actually met her. So did you know her well, or did you—
Kent: No. I knew she was in high school. I never had a class with her. That’s the only—that was the closest.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: But she was very gracious. And everybody knew she was gonna be a movie star. She made no ifs ands or buts about that. And then she was Miss Richland, which was one of the last Miss Richlands.
Franklin: Right, then, yeah, she moved away.
Kent: She moved to Germany just a few weeks later. She knew when she became Miss Richland that she was gonna do that, but—
Franklin: Right. And then of course you obviously remember the tragic event that happened to her.
Kent: In fact, I think I lived in California at the time. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Oh, really?
Kent: I think I lived in Los Angeles County when it happened.
Franklin: Oh, wow. Did you have any other friends that knew her or had grown close to her, kept in touch with her?
Kent: Not that I’m aware of.
Franklin: Okay. That’s just interesting to have finally met somebody who actually had some sort of experience with her.
Kent: But I—what it was, was I was just really overwhelmed at her beauty and how gracious she was and patient. You know?
Franklin: That’s great. Do you remember—well, I guess you would have been gone for the Civil Rights activity in Kennewick. There were marches—
Kent: What year was that?
Franklin: ’64, ’65.
Kent: We were back. Oh, no, we left again in ’65 and ’66.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: But I don’t remember.
Franklin: So I’m sure you’re—did you ever go much to the other two cities, Kennewick and Pasco, for any shopping or social events, or anything like that?
Kent: I know we did, but I can’t—and I remember when we passed East Pasco, you knew where the blacks live. There was one very lovely house that was a black man’s house. The other thing is, the whole time I was growing up, if I ever saw a Hispanic person, they were in the field, working.
Franklin: Did any of them live in Richland to your recollection?
Kent: If they did, I wasn’t—like I say, the only time I saw them was when we drove to Sunnyside and they were working in the fields, the whole time I grew up.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: And my daughter worked at Wiley School in Pasco, first grade, and the Hispanics live where the black community was now.
Franklin: Right.
Kent: So that has definitely changed.
Franklin: Yeah, Pasco is heavily Hispanic now. What can you tell me about civil defense growing up? Because you would have went to school and gone to school at the real high point of the Cold War--
Kent: Duck-and-roll? [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah, exactly. What can you tell me about what you remember about that and how it made you feel?
Kent: Well, I can remember my father was in safety.
Franklin: Right.
Kent: He also, on side jobs, he went around teaching first grade and things like that. So we were really into that kind of thing, and we were very safe. But I remember the duck-and-roll, and I remember the—oh, is it Jason Lee that was built, and it was a bomb shelter and whatnot? I don’t think Lewis and Clark was built that way. Jason Lee was built later. You know, we were told what to do. Exactly what it was, I don’t remember. But I knew that we knew we were vulnerable and we also grew up with the feeling that as soon as the war was over, the town would be taken apart. Which, obviously it wasn’t. And I think—I don’t know, but I have a feeling the Cold War really kept us in there a lot longer. Now we—[LAUGHTER] I remember hearing about it and learning about it. The other thing I remember was when I was young, Dr. Corrado came to the house and I had scarlet fever. He gave me one of the first shots of penicillin that they were giving the public.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Kent: It was a thick green goo.
Franklin: When was this?
Kent: I was five, so it was ’46.
Franklin: Oh, wow. That is very early.
Kent: Yeah, yeah. So Dr. Corrado at that point—well, these were—they worked for Hanford and it was very different. Different size and whatnot. And that was—big quarantine sign. It was by Christmas and, like I said, the grocery store was right there; it was Campbell’s then. And my father—our heritage is mainly Swedish—and my dad had invited all these people for lutefisk.
Franklin: That Swedish delicacy.
Kent: Yeah. And they put this quarantine sign up on our door. And this fish came in to the market and they call up, Mrs. Roos, you’ve got to come and get this fish. It stinks up the whole store! [LAUGHTER] So that’s one of my fun memories. I mean, it wasn’t fun for her, but—
Franklin: Did you ever develop a taste for lutefisk?
Kent: Well as a—a few years ago, when I was widowed—you know, they have the lutefisk festival every February or March at the Lutheran church, and I have a friend that is Finnish. So I called her up and I said, let’s go. And she said [GRUMBLING] but she went with me. Well, we had no idea where to go in this church, and we just laughed and said, well, we’ll just follow the smell. And by gum, there was no smell. They do it differently now. And it tastes like cod. I guess it is a cod, prepared. So we go almost every year now.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Kent: But we figured if anybody knew how to prepare it, it would be the Sons of Norway.
Franklin: Yeah. Yup. [LAUGHTER] That makes sense. Anything else about growing up that you’d like to—that comes to mind?
Kent: Well, I remember when the fireworks down at—just below the high school on whatnot, that’s where we saw the fireworks. Then they had a baseball field down there at one time. But this was—I think I was an adult then. They had a team called the Triplets, which is similar to the Dust Devils. And I remember they gave out jackets and I still have my Triplets jacket. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Kent: And the circus came to Sunnyside—the great big one—and we went there. Well, the other thing is, one of the first things that happened was the Richland Players. And Mother said, there was this man that was there on business and he had nothing to do that night but go to—so he went to the Richland Players. And he stayed over the next day to go and tell people how extremely impressed and surprised on how good they were. The community concerts came. Anything like that that came—they brought things in like that. I remember Ronald Reagan came. He worked for GE.
Franklin: Oh, right, doing the promotional films, right?
Kent: Yeah, I remember going when he was here.
Franklin: Were you living here when President Kennedy visited to dedicate the N Reactor?
Kent: Yes.
Franklin: That was in November of 1963.
Kent: Yes, I was, in fact—
Franklin: September, I think. Sorry.
Kent: In fact, my brother was a Boy Scout. And he was right there and he got to shake his hand twice.
Franklin: Oh, really?
Kent: Yeah.
Franklin: Did you go to the dedication?
Kent: I don’t remember that I did. I think I had a brand new baby or something. [LAUGHTER] But about—when we had a brand new baby in the ‘60s, we were going through one of those trees that you could drive through as President Kennedy was giving the oath of office.
Franklin: Oh, in—
Kent: In California. In California.
Franklin: The redwoods on the highway, yeah.
Kent: I remember that.
Franklin: Do you remember President Nixon’s visit in the late ‘60s, early ‘70s?
Kent: You know, I can’t say that I do.
Franklin: That’s okay. I haven’t met anybody who has yet. I’ve seen pictures of him at Hanford, but I don’t think it was as widely touted as President Kennedy’s visit.
Kent: Right, right.
Franklin: He seems to have a little less mystique.
Kent: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: How was it, raising—I imagine that—I guess I’d like to ask you to reflect on maybe how the experience of raising children in Richland, and maybe how their experiences would have been different from your experiences growing up in Richland?
Kent: Oh, that’s interesting. Well, we had fences. [LAUGHTER] And more multicultural.
Franklin: How so?
Kent: Well, anybody of any race could move in. There were very few Asians and very few Hispanics. Hmm. That’s a good question, but—well, they still knew it was a nuclear situation. I don’t have a good answer to that, other than it was a nice place to live. We felt safe.
Franklin: That’s interesting. It’s interesting, I guess, for many people who might be—who might ever see this or who aren’t as familiar with Hanford to hear in the same sentence that there’s all this nuclear material being produced here but that it was also a very safe community. Did you ever feel any greater existential fear from the Cold War?
Kent: I didn’t. Well, not that I remember. I certainly didn’t when I was a child.
Franklin: Right.
Kent: And I think I was just so used to it, I don’t remember. But another thing I do remember about my kids and whatnot is when I grew up, everybody had the same furniture.
Franklin: Right, because it was government furniture.
Kent: Yeah, and everything else. So when my kids grew up, we went to Bell Furniture. People had different furniture. And like I say, they had dogs and whatnot. More cars during—when I grew up, the men always went to work on buses. Everybody usually had a car, but they had one car. So as my kids that—a lot more people had two cars, and the bus system wasn’t near the thing that it was. Where I live now is right by where the bus barn is, and they just built that new facility and then they stopped using the buses. But I thought the buses were real nice, because you knew when your dad or your husband was coming home and this type of thing.
Franklin: Right. And probably a bit safer, too. Less cars on the road.
Kent: Well, and it—you know, a lot less—fewer of us had two cars when the husband had a way to work every day.
Franklin: Right. So then he wouldn’t need to drive—to take the car with him all the time. So how long did your husband work out onsite for?
Kent: Until he retired.
Franklin: Okay. How long was that?
Kent: Well, he came in like ’56 or ’57. He was born in ’29. And he retired at 65. So—[LAUGHTER] what would that be? ’86? Or something like that.
Franklin: Kind of right when things were—production was starting to drop off. It says here that you’d been in the same house for 48 years on Saint Street?
Kent: On Saint Street, yes.
Franklin: And is that an Alphabet House, or is that a newer—
Kent: No, it was—we’re the only family that lived there.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Kent: And it was a Stanfield-Nelson house.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: And—no, it was—we were gonna build in that area, and I hadn’t picked a plan yet. But we were on our way to buy a lot around the corner. And I said, hey, look, this house. Let’s go see if we can walk through. And we walked through, and I says, well, that’s what I want, build it over there. And they said, why not here? And I said, well, you’ve already picked up the carpet and whatnot. I’ll probably have one new house—I’m gonna pick out everything. They said, it’s on hold. And it was—I’m real glad I did, because I have four little boys, and they had all these things done—you know, the people that built from scratch—running into all these problems. And the cabinets were in, they were beautiful. They built them right in there. And they were beautiful; they were walnut—I loved walnut. And they did—and outside, the patio, there was a hole there and I said, I can’t have that. So they custom-built a beautiful bench that we sat on top of—you know, where the window was for the dryer. And I’ve been there 48 years, and there isn’t another house in the world I’d rather live in. I wish everybody felt that way about their house. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: I wish I felt that way about my house, honestly.
Kent: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Did any of your siblings ever go to work for Hanford—
Kent: Hanford.
Franklin: --end up staying in the area?
Kent: Well, my brother Richard is here now.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: He would be somebody—and I forgot to bring his number—that would be interested. He works out on the grounds and keeping track of radiation from the animals and this type of thing.
Franklin: Oh. Wow, interesting.
Kent: I don’t know—I think I can tell the story. This one man came to him and he said, there’s a building out there, and these people won’t let me go in and check on things. And he says, there’s some birds on top of this building. And he says, I had an idea that they have a lot of radiation, and they won’t let me in. So he and Richard went and said, we’re coming in. And the birds were full of radiation. By the time they decided what to do about it, they were in Argentina. [LAUGHTER] But he says, the saving grace is whatever kind of bird it was, it wasn’t the kind people ate for dinner.
Franklin: Oh, right. So—
Kent: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: At least there’s that. It’ll have to work its way through another couple animals to get into the human food stream.
Kent: And the other thing was when Rattlesnake Mountain—I have allergies. And when Rattlesnake Mountain burned, my allergies were the best they’d ever been.
Franklin: Really? What is it that you’re allergic to?
Kent: I don’t really know. I’ve been here so long, I’ve just—but anyway, guess who was the one that had them helicopter to reseed it. My brother. [LAUGHTER] They came in with helicopters. I said, I don’t know about that. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Since you’ve—we’ve talked a bit about how the neighborhood changed from—or how kind of the town changed from—in ’58 when things were—when they privatized, and you said some African Americans came in, fences came up, and things. How was—what changes have you noticed in your house now, where you’ve been living for almost half a century—
Kent: Well, yes. We were one of the first houses in that area. And where Lynnwood Park is now—I don’t know if you’re familiar with that—but anyway, when they put the park in, it was in the paper, and I think on the news, there was this big oval spot that they couldn’t get grass to grow. And Mark says, well, I know what that is. That was clayed in for water for the horses. There were horses out there.
Franklin: Oh, right. Like someone’s ranch.
Kent: Only, what was interesting was the mobile home park was—this was my house, and this is where the horses are, and the mobile home park was up there. So anyway, he says, well, that’s what’s the matter with that. So, yeah, we were one of the first ones. So it’s really built up.
Franklin: Oh, yeah, I imagine.
Kent: And my kids—we moved there just before Sacajawea was built. So they went to Jason Lee, I believe. One day—the two older ones went to school; the two younger ones didn’t go to school yet. And they horsed around, and I didn’t have a car that day. So I told them get out and walk, and it was quite a ways. But they had only walked a couple of blocks and the bus that was picking up the kids more north was passing by. And they said, they’re from our school! So the kids said, we only walked a couple of blocks. [LAUGHTER] But they weren’t late again. [LAUGHTER] And then after that, they went to Sacajawea and then Hanford.
Franklin: Okay. And when was Hanford built? Do you remember?
Kent: Well, I know they started—Mark was born in ’60, and he started junior high there. He was one of the first. I don’t think it was the first year, but it was pretty close.
Franklin: Were you involved in any groups or social organizations when you were being a mother and raising children?
Kent: I was—one of the things—Robert Leduc was the superintendent of schools. And I was in a group called citizens for something-or-other. We met with Robert Leduc, I believe once a month. And I really enjoyed that.
Franklin: What did you do in this group?
Kent: We just discussed all kinds of things and gave our feelings. Only other person I can remember that was in it was Dr. Sara Gergel.
Franklin: And who was that?
Kent: She was a pediatrician.
Franklin: Okay. So I imagine this was school-related?
Kent: This was all—this was Richland Schools. I can’t remember the exact title, but it was citizen—you know. And how they picked us, I don’t remember. I was also vice president of PTO at Sacajawea. We decided not to be PTA, so we were PTO.
Franklin: Oh, and why was that?
Kent: I can’t remember. I can’t remember. I know I was in a discussion, but I can’t remember. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: What—is the O for organization?
Kent: Organization. For some reason, they didn’t want to join the PTA. Now I kind of laugh and wonder why, but we didn’t. I was in Girl Scouts, in fact there’s a house on Falley—George Washington Way and Falley—that was unused at that time. But it was owned by an uncle or something of—it was one of the old, original houses.
Franklin: The pre-Manhattan Project?
Kent: Right. And anyway, we had Girl Scouts there. The building is still there and nobody—I don’t think it’s ever been occupied in all these years.
Franklin: Oh. And where—this was at--?
Kent: It’s yellow. Fallow and George Washington Way.
Franklin: And Fallow?
Kent: Fallon? I think. It’s right at the end of downtown Richland.
Franklin: Hmm. Interesting.
Kent: I’m pretty sure it’s yellow.
Franklin: Okay. I’ll have to look out for that next time.
Kent: But—yeah—I know I enjoyed going to the things here and most things were free except—you know. They had a lot—GE had a lot of things for the people. I do remember the dust storms and the women didn’t like them. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Why is that?
Kent: Well, they called them termination winds.
Franklin: Right.
Kent: You know, the women would clean up, and those winds would just seep into the house.
Franklin: Would these even happen when you were an adult? How long did these dust storms continue for?
Kent: Until all the irrigation started. The more the irrigation, the less of this. And one of my sons—Sterling—was talking to me. He says, the other day, you know, when I grew up here it was very little humidity. He said, now there’s a lot of humidity and he says, if you’re out driving at five or six in the morning, there’s all this water going up in the air from sprinklers and whatnot, and it’s a lot more humid.
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Kent: That’s a definite difference. But that hasn’t bothered me.
Franklin: Right. I imagine that—didn’t really think of that. Do you remember clearly when kind of the big irrigation projects were happening? Do you remember that—what kind of era that was, or decade?
Kent: Not really. I remember going out and picking fruit from when I was a kid and when I had young kids. That’s what I remember. And asparagus and things like that. But I don’t ever remember it without all this.
Franklin: Right, okay. Interesting. What can you tell me about the history of the Latter Day Saints in the area? Was that—were there any Mormon settlers in the area before the Manhattan Project, or was the main bulk kind of brought in during World War II?
Kent: Well, the main bulk was brought in, but—I don’t know if you know anything about Bickleton that’s out there. The Brinkerhoffs lived in Bickleton. And they came in, and he was the one that not too many years before he died and not all that long ago, he remembered as a child, there were bluebirds in Bickleton. So he did a project—oh, I don’t know how many years ago—20 or so, but not—where he made all these houses or had all these houses made, and now the bluebirds have come back to Bickleton.
Franklin: You mean like birdhouses?
Kent: Yeah.
Franklin: Oh, wow. And where is Bickleton?
Kent: It’s not too far from here, but I’ll tell you—when we went there, I didn’t see any street signs or anything else. It’s just out, you know. My brother knew how to get there. I thought, well, I couldn’t drive there. There’s just—it’s farm and whatnot. He was saying, there’s a bluebird, there’s a bluebird, there’s a bluebird. But they were one of the families. But most everybody else came. And I can remember, we were in schools and whatnot and then in 1950, the steakhouse on Jadwin was built. At that time, we stayed a branch. And when the church was dedicated, we went in and we were divided into two wards—branches are usually quite small. Also, I was—the first baptism in that building was April of 1950, and I was baptized during that baptism. I know my mother didn’t want me baptized in December in that dirty, cold Yakima River, and I didn’t put up any fuss. [LAUGHTER] We’ve really grown since then, that’s for sure.
Franklin: I imagine. Do you remember any—was there any sort of—did early LDS settlers or people who came come across any hostilities or were there any troubles between—any types of persecution or anything like that?
Kent: Well, if there was, I didn’t see it. But I’m one of those that—I don’t—if something happens, I just walk away and it’s gone. So I didn’t see any of it.
Franklin: Sure.
Kent: And I don’t remember my folks talking about that at all. We get in and we do things with the community. We usually are quite an asset, and I think we were looked at that way. One of the things I remember as a kid that I loved, that I really miss now was the Atomic Days—they had Atomic Days. One of the things that—they had floats, I mean gorgeous floats. I know Mother and Dad would work on these floats for Toastmasters and Toastmistresses. I remember all that crepe paper and whatnot. I miss those kind of floats. It was fantastic. They really put a lot of effort in that. I can’t remember what else but Frontier Days, but there was all—and I don’t know exactly when Art—first it was Sidewalk Show, for this, that’s coming up this Friday. And it was on the sidewalk in downtown. And then it’s turned into this big thing. And then it was local artists, and I’d—oh, I know her, I know her. And even as an adult when I was taking a lot of painting classes, I knew a lot of the people that were showing down there. Now, I don’t. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Did your husband share a lot of what he worked on, or was there still a culture of secrecy that kind of persisted--
Kent: Oh, no, he did not share what he worked on. But I do know that he was this kind that could be very isolated and very—so if there was something that people didn’t want to work on because it was tedious or they had worked on it for years and couldn’t solve it, they just handed it to him and gave him no deadline and he solved all the problems. That’s the only story I’ve heard. So he was very highly valued. Then his bosses, they honored him and this kind of thing—paid as somebody like that. And his bosses that were his age or a little younger, when they were retiring, says Roy, you’ve got to retire. This young guy does not have any respect for overpaid, old geezers. So he retired early—he retired at 65, where he would have gone to 70.
Franklin: Yeah.
Kent: But they said, no, no. And it’s really a shame, because—you know. They lost a very valuable person.
Franklin: Right. All that learned experience on the job. Is there anything that I haven’t asked you about that you’d like to talk about?
Kent: Not that I can remember at this time. I’m sure as I walk out, it’ll fill my head, but—[LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Lightbulb going off?
Kent: But it was a very happy experience for me. It wasn’t—my parents, I could see that—well, the other difference was between—everybody here, on vacation, always went home to their parents, because the parents didn’t live here. Whereas with my kids, my folks lived here. My husband’s folks didn’t, but my folks did. And that was a big difference. So when we went, we went to his folks’, but we weren’t trying to equal our time to both families. So also then we took time to go and do other things. That was a big one, to have the grandparents and the aunts and uncles here which my kids had and have really enjoyed.
Franklin: Right, that larger extended family structure would have been missing—or if your aunt or uncle didn’t work for Hanford, right, they wouldn’t live in the area.
Kent: Oh, I have another funny story.
Franklin: Sure.
Kent: My folks, when they moved from Jadwin which turned into Goethals, at—there’s Jadwin in the Uptown, and then Williams, and then south of Williams, it wasn’t Jadwin, it was Goethals. Why it was that way, I don’t know. But then they—several years ago, they changed it so it was Jadwin all the way down. But anyway, when they moved from Goethals, they moved to Hains, which is across the street from the dike. They had that wonderful walking path, and if you haven’t walked on it, it’s marvelous. I just love to walk there. Anyway, one year, all these walkers were complaining to the City of Richland about the skunks, the skunks, the skunks. So they went in and got rid of a lot of them, and all of the sudden, all the neighbors were just covered with mice. But nobody was talking about it. I can remember my mother was real sick, and the cat came and dropped a dead mouse on her chest. My little daughter, who is real little, came in squealing with a mouse. And then she flushed it down the toilet. The neighbors just didn’t say a word ‘til it had gone on for quite a while.
Franklin: Wow.
Kent: So that’s a funny story. I mean, it wasn’t funny to my mother at all, and she certainly didn’t like the present the cat gave her. [LAUGHTER] She couldn’t believe that my daughter would run around with a mouse. Why they flushed it down the toilet, I don’t know, but that’s what she did.
Franklin: Do you remember the flood of ’48?
Kent: Yes, I do. In fact, it was on a Sunday morning, if I remember right. There was a friend and I—he was in the church, but he obviously wasn’t active and he was working at a tavern just south of what was Richland there, on the way to Richland Wye. And he went up to change a lightbulb and was electrocuted.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Kent: And, like I say, I switch the names around, so I don’t know what his name was. All I know is I knew him from church. But at that point he wasn’t very active. And yes, I do remember the flood, but not—that’s what I remember. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: That’s what you remember?
Kent: And that’s when they built the dike across from Hains and whatnot. But it didn’t get to our house.
Franklin: Oh, okay. And then they built what they called the Miracle Mile then as well—the long structure there to keep the water out. How else has Richland changed since you were—I mean, obviously there’s so many changes since you were small, when you first remember. But what else strikes you as—
Kent: Well, at first, until I was a teenager—it started a little before I was teen here—just downtown Richland. And then the end of Uptown was finished when I was 13.
Franklin: The Uptown Mall?
Kent: Yeah. The movie theater and Spudnuts were one of the first ones built and then the north end was finished when I was 13. That added a lot of stores and this type of thing. And more and more and more people, and—so, like I say we kept—well, I didn’t worry about it, but you kept expecting it to close up. I remember my dad saying, they found out that once a community like this can get over 100,000 then they can support themselves when that one plant moves out, and can survive. They won’t be what they were before. But I’m not worried about it finishing before I die, so—[LAUGHTER] Plus, I’m on pension and social security, so—
Franklin: Well, at this point, I don’t even—it’s hard to say when they’ll finish, given the task before them. It’s a really, really big one.
Kent: Well, there is something that I’ve never figured out and they keep doing it. I remember my whole time when I was a kid and through the whole thing, is when they took a bid, they took the low bid. I don’t remember that there was ever once that it didn’t go way, way, way over. But they kept taking the low bid! They didn’t learn. And the other thing I don’t understand is, why, when somebody got the bid, why didn’t they say, you have to finish it at this amount of money? That, to me—now, if I was doing something on the site, I would have something in there like that. [LAUGHTER] It just never made sense to me, and they’re still doing it. Does it make sense to you?
Franklin: No. No, it doesn’t. [LAUGHTER]
Kent: You know, because I think they lost out by taking low bids.
Franklin: Yeah, there’s definitely a—well, part of the issue is that, I think, that they’re spending taxpayer dollars and people want to know that they’re getting—that they’re going with the least expensive option. But if I’m understanding your point correctly, it’s that the least expensive option sometimes turns out not to be the least expensive option—
Kent: Well, it never did.
Franklin: --if it’s not quality work.
Kent: Oh, I see, I see.
Franklin: Or yeah, the nature of it is cost overrun. And yeah, there should be a--
Kent: It always went way, way, way, way, way—I mean it wasn’t—it was way, way, way, way, way over there. And it never made a bit of sense.
Franklin: Yeah, I’ve never heard of someone finishing a project at Hanford on time and under budget.
Kent: Or anywhere close to on-budget.
Franklin: Yeah, they just—like the Vitrification Plant keeps getting delayed, and finishing the closing down of the Plutonium Finishing Plant.
Kent: Once they got the contract, they—they don’t always get to keep it forever, but—so I don’t know. That’s one thing that’s never made a bit of sense to me.
Franklin: That actually—brings me to another question. Did you notice any changes in the town when Hanford would change contractors?
Kent: Not really, except when they brought in new contractors, then they brought in more people and different types of people—you know, different expertise and this type of thing. But it’s just changing—when it was just one company, I don’t really—
Franklin: What about during the shift in the late ‘80s from production to cleanup and kind of the rise of the environmental consciousness, if you will. Can you talk about what you remember about the community at that time, and kind of how the people negotiated that change in Hanford’s role?
Kent: You know, I don’t remember that at all.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: Like I say, a lot of things, when I had a bunch of little tiny kids, I had my own little world. [LAUGHTER] The ‘60s are a pretty big blur. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right. What about later, in the ‘80s and the early ‘90s when cleanup started to become a high priority? And the actual production was being shut down.
Kent: Well, I just remember, maybe this is coming to an end kind of a thing. But it didn’t affect me. I didn’t see anybody seem to be bothered. You just get—because you’ve been there for so many years, and it just kept going on.
Franklin: Right.
Kent: So—my husband didn’t talk about how it affected him or anything, or my dad. My mother—but I remember one thing, she—the last library she worked on was the old Richland Library. They—I guess the new one’s over 30 years old? A lot older than I thought it was. But anyway, she says, they just had to build this new one. They just couldn’t—they could not use that building anymore. And then they build a new one, and somebody was in it for another 30 years.
Franklin: The old building?
Kent: The old building.
Franklin: Where is that building?
Kent: It was between George Washington and Jadwin and Swift. You know, where the city hall is?
Franklin: Yeah.
Kent: It was right south of the city hall.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Kent: And it was a domed—orange dome.
Franklin: Oh, okay. Isn’t that a vacant, or an empty space now?
Kent: They took it out, yeah.
Franklin: Interesting.
Kent: Just like the old community house. They cut it in half. [LAUGHTER] But I don’t know. And yet, to look at the theater—the Richland Theater, that’s still there.
Franklin: It is, yeah.
Kent: But the one we went to as kids was the Village Theater, which was just a couple blocks away on George Washington Way. On the other side of Lee. They had the westerns on Saturday morning. So we were there for the westerns. The other thing I remember about the movies that’s so different from now is that we didn’t get the movies for two to three years, until—you know, the big—evidently, they didn’t make a jillion copies.
Franklin: Right.
Kent: And we didn’t get them for two or three years.
Franklin: Wow.
Kent: I can remember that. So a lot of the big ones, people had gone on vacation and already saw it. But there was enough of us that didn’t that there were still big, big, big lines. That’s one thing I remember.
Franklin: Do you think maybe that had something to do with government procurement, maybe? Or the movie theater being run by the government? Or do you think it was the availability—just the size of the city—
Kent: The availability of the film is what always entered my mind.
Franklin: Huh. Okay.
Kent: And the other thing is not a lot of people flew when I was a kid, because—and I might be way off—but it seemed to me that they were paying about as much then as I—to go to Arizona as I—going to go this Christmas. Very few people flew, and it was in the hundreds of dollars. And I’m paying $300 to go to Arizona at Christmas. [LAUGHTER] And that’s another thing that interests me. Of course, now, most of us fly nowadays.
Franklin: Right. Yeah, that’s kind of the default. Or we get prepared to drive long distances, which—I imagine would have been—I imagine getting to Kennewick and Pasco when you were a child would have been quite an undertaking, in terms of just the roads.
Kent: We didn’t go very often.
Franklin: You didn’t go very often.
Kent: But the other thing that isn’t mainly about here, but—I don’t know if you’ve ridden much in Benton City, but there’s Acord Road, that is a two-lane road, and not much on the sides, and it goes ssshhh on a canyon. Well, that’s what our highways were when I was a kid. It took—the two places we went was either Salt Lake or the San Francisco area. It took us 18 hours to get to either one. Well, it takes us ten now. See, these freeways, they’re wide, they’re one-direction. You’re not loofing around—
Franklin: Safer, too, I imagine.
Kent: Only place you loof around is on Cabbage Hill, really, to an extent. That has been a big change. But I remember, we’d have the kids in the car at 4:00 AM and get to Grandpa’s at midnight. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. That’s a long day.
Kent: That is a long day.
Franklin: With kids in the car.
Kent: Yeah, but it was easier than stopping. But we didn’t always do that. In some ways, when you have four little kids, it’s easier to do that than to stop. That’s one big difference. But that’s just in general; that has nothing to do with this area.
Franklin: Right. Well, that’s still a really, really important difference. You mentioned earlier that your parents had worked on Atomic Frontier Days floats. Do you remember which floats specifically that they worked on?
Kent: Yes, they were Toastmasters and Toastmistress.
Franklin: Oh, right.
Kent: And I think Dad worked on one of the Lions’.
Franklin: Oh, wow. Was that something they just kind of did for fun to help out?
Kent: Yeah, they were in those organizations, and—
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: And, boy, they put in the work and the designing. People were—well, when they first moved, when they were just building the place, it wasn’t a high-educated group of people. And then when they built and whatnot so they could come in—the scientists. And then I remember Dad saying when I was in high school, it had the highest percentage of PhDs in the world kind of a thing.
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Kent: When people talked about, nobody talked to them about going to college, I said, you’re kidding. I just—everybody I knew went to college from here. The schools were very good here. At least the ones I went to—very, very good. Then I went to BYU and got married the last day of the quarter and came back and started at CBC. I think that was the third or fourth year of CBC—but it already had a good reputation.
Franklin: Right. Did you finish?
Kent: No, I didn’t. I’ve been taking courses—until just a few years ago, I’ve been taking courses off and on. And then I was in the seniors programs that they had, and they quit that. So—
Franklin: What kind of courses did you take?
Kent: Well, we had two businesses when the kids got to teenagers, my one son—well, he was a scout, and for one of his merit badges—my husband’s boss was the scout master. He also, on the side, had bees. So we checked with the neighbors, and they were okay, and we had two or three hives in our backyard. My son couldn’t find a job for the summer, so he said, Dad, can we have bees? So I don’t know, we had big contracts and whatnot and we worked together with the other ones, and were very involved in the state bee organization. It was the most wonderful thing for our family. We just—we worked hard, and we worked together. But then the older ones were leaving, and the two younger ones got deathly allergic. So then when we didn’t have the bee business anymore, our son says—I knew a man that was selling his carpet business, so we bought the carpet business. But anyway, when we had the bee business, I took two years of accounting.
Franklin: Okay.
Kent: Okay? [LAUGHTER] Yeah, I kind of went off on that, didn’t I? And I’ve taken about every--oil painting, whatever it is kind of thing. But when I first went, I was taking the basic courses.
Franklin: Right, the general education.
Kent: The general education. And then I just went off on the different things. So I kept the books for the businesses and answered the phone. We liked the beekeeping business much more than the carpet cleaning business.
Franklin: I bet.
Kent: And like I say, we worked together. One of the things is, one of my boys took them out—you know you move bees at night?
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Kent: And he was out in the farm somewhere and the truck turned over. They said there were policemen all around keeping cars from going, but none of them were out helping. [LAUGHTER] It was a stinging proposition, but it was good for us. It really brought us close. The kids learned if you work hard, you could have anything you wanted. They got the skis, they went skiing. They’re still real hard workers. They found the benefit of that. My one son, when we were getting rid of the carpet business, he decided to—he was going to go to college, and we had some problems—well, some men that worked for us came in and had keys to our house and came in and stole our truck and a few other things and whatnot.
Franklin: Wow.
Kent: And we got a call from a policeman in Oregon, and there was this little box that looked—that was locked and whatnot, and they took that. It didn’t have anything that they wanted, but it had a lot of personal papers. So the police sent it to us. Anyway, when we were getting out of the carpet keeping business, my son, David, took it with him to school and took the debt and whatnot and built up a carpet-cleaning business in Las Vegas.
Franklin: Oh, wow. Does he still do that?
Kent: No. He works for Costco now. And he’s in Selah. He was at the Kennewick store and they transferred him to Yakima. They have moved to a house that’s over 100 years old. And they’ve kept adding to it and adding to it. I don’t go upstairs because I need the bathroom often, and you have to know exactly which staircase you go up to get to the bathroom up there. [LAUGHTER] His wife’s family grew up there, and they said, oh, we’re so interested. We always walked past this house. We wondered who owned it now. And so it is a very interesting house. But—[LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right. Well, Sharon, is there anything else you would like to add or that I haven’t talked about before we—
Kent: Not that’s coming. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right. Well, I just want to thank you for sharing so much about your life.
Kent: Well, you’re welcome.
Franklin: And opening up to us about your experiences growing up in Richland.
Kent: Well, you’re welcome.
Franklin: Okay.
View interview on Youtube.
Tom Hungate: Okay.
Robert Franklin: You ready, Tom?
Hungate: Mm-hm.
Franklin: Okay. My name is Robert Franklin. I am conducting an oral history interview with George Boice on July 15th, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. I will be talking with Mr. Boice about his experiences living in Richland. So why don’t we start at the beginning, that’s the best place. When and where were you born?
George Boice: I was born in Ellensburg. A third generation native of the state of Washington. My father and my grandmother were born in Cle Elum.
Franklin: Oh, Wow.
Boice: We came through this—the tribe came through this territory and crossed the White Bluffs ferry in 1885. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: And went up to the Kittitas County area. And then we came back later. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: What year were you born?
Boice: ’37.
Franklin: ’37. Did your family work at all at the coal mine in Roslyn?
Boice: Yes. [LAUGHTER] Short answers. My grandmother’s brother, Uncle Tony, was a mine rescue worker up there at Roslyn.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: You go up to Roslyn, that is interesting. Ever been there?
Franklin: Yes, I have.
Boice: 27 cemeteries. Just neater than all get out. [LAUGHTER] The different ethnic groups up there. They talk about one Fourth of July, the Italians were going to raise the Italian flag in the main street there. Some of the local citizens took a dim view of it. And some wagons were turned on their side and the Winchesters came out, and the sweet little old lady got out there and got everybody calmed down before the shooting started. [LAUGHTER] But the flag didn’t go up. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. So what brought your family down to the Hanford area?
Boice: My—[LAUGHTER] When they started Hanford—Dad was a firefighter in Ellensburg, had been for a few years. And when they set up Hanford, the first thing they did for a fire department was pick up the retired fire chief out of Yakima. Well, he goes around to the local fire departments and starts hydrating citizens. [LAUGHTER] So, Dad came down here in ’43 as the ninth man hired at the Hanford Fire Department. Always claimed that half of them had been canned before he got there. [LAUGHTER] So he went to work in ’43—June of ’43 at Hanford. We were still there at Ellensburg, and we didn’t come down here ‘til summer of ’44.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Boice: And they were still moving prefabs in, and unloading them with rapid shape.
Franklin: Did your father commute at this time, or did he live on—
Boice: Uh-unh. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Where did he—do you know much about his living quarters or where he lived?
Boice: Yeah, there were barracks.
Franklin: So he lived in the barracks?
Boice: Oh, yes.
Franklin: Okay. Did he come back to visit at all?
Boice: Oh, yeah.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: Wasn’t but—hell, by the time you get up to the Hanford area, it’s just over the ridge. [LAUGHTER] So he’d come in every couple of weeks.
Franklin: Okay. How many siblings do you have?
Boice: One of each—one brother, one sister.
Franklin: Older, younger?
Boice: Oh, yeah. My brother was born in Kadlec in September of ’45. My sister was—well, they bracket the war. She was born about a month before it started—or right after it started. She was born in December of ’41.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: And he was born September of ’45.
Franklin: So can you talk a little more about your father’s job at Hanford? What did he—did he talk much about what he did, or—
Boice: [LAUGHTER] Oh, yeah! You know. The place is building up, it’s trying to erupt. You’ve got construction going all directions. Trailer house fires. He talked about them [EMOTIONAL]—how quick people died in them damn trailer houses. They’d go up in a matter of seconds. And there were acres of them. But yeah, it was—And the amount of nothing to do. I mean, you had time to work and then there was really no recreational facilities. He worked at a grocery store for a while in his off hours stocking milk. He said it was not unusual to work a whole shift with a forklift or a handcart walking out of the stack and filling the same slot behind the counter there. We came over twice to visit him at Hanford.
Franklin: Before you moved—
Boice: Yeah.
Franklin: --in ’44. Okay.
Boice: You drive across the Vantage Bridge, and somebody had gone through with a grader and graded out a dirt-slash-gravel road. And we drove around and down, and across the Hanford ferry into Hanford. Because you could get into Hanford; it wasn’t restricted—the town. Everything else was. So getting in and out of Hanford was no trick. Getting out of the surrounding area was. So my mom and I and my grandfather went down there.
Franklin: Wow. And where did you stay? Did you just go for the day?
Boice: Well, we didn’t—when I was there, we didn’t stay. We just went for the day and went home.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: But Mom talks about going down and staying overnight. [LAUGHTER] She says she was not warned. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Warned about what?
Boice: To keep everything you wanted nailed down.
Franklin: Oh.
Boice: She got up in the morning and somebody stole her girdle. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. So when your family moved in summer of ’44, where did you move to?
Boice: 17-1.
Franklin: 17-1?
Boice: That was the lot number and the house number. It is now 1033 Sanford.
Franklin: Ah.
Boice: It’s on the southwest corner of Sanford and Putnam.
Franklin: Yup. I live right by there.
Boice: We went in there and it was—they had—you can’t describe to people how they had come in there and just dozed the farmland over, staked out streets and planted houses. And hauled them in on trucks and set them down. We were fortunate—I didn’t realize how fortunate it was—in the fact that we had only come about 100 miles or so—we came in a truck. We had our stuff. Mom had her piano. And I can’t tell you how many times women would come up and bang on the door, can I play your piano?
Franklin: Really?
Boice: Strangers off the street. Just because it was there, and it was—so we had all kind of musical stuff. Everybody could play better than Mom could. But we had the piano.
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: And she had her houseplants. It was different. But there was no trees in Richland. There wasn’t three blades of grass! [LAUGHTER] You’d come in, you got a garden hose and a plastic nozzle. You hosed down your lot and it immediately became a slick, slimy mud pile. Great for kids to play in! Man, we could slide in that mud across there—it was really cool! And then when it dried up, why, it reticulated like a picture puzzle. So we’re picking chunks up and stacking them up and building houses. And Mom gets up and she’s just madder than a wet hen, so we had to put the lawn back together. [LAUGHTER] But the hose nozzles were so interesting, because when you had a plastic nozzle, but you couldn’t get anything else. There was a hardware store here, eventually, but they didn’t handle stuff like that. This was a war going on. And the ingenuity that went into lawn sprinklers would just boggle your mind! The cutest one I remember was some guy took a chunk of surgical tubing—he got a bent pipe for an uppensticker. And he stretched his hunk of surgical tubing over the end of it, turned the water on, and it was not efficiently watering his area, but he could flail water all over a half an acre! [LAUGHTER] That was one of the cuter ones. There was also no shade and no air conditioning.
Franklin: Right.
Boice: Coming down in a moving truck, Dad brought his carpenter tools, he brought his bench, and he set to work building an air conditioner. Now, this was the dog-gonedest thing you ever saw. He got some burlap sacks and set out there with scrap lumber in the backyard on his workbench just creating shavings out of boards. Fill these burlap sacks with wood shavings for the pads for his air conditioner. He got a motor out of I-don’t-know-what. It was an appliance motor out of something. And he whittled out this propeller out of a two-by-four. And he cranked this thing up and it sounded like a B-29. [LAUGHTER] But it would blow sort of cool air, which raised the wrath of the neighbors. Number one was the racket he was making. Number two was we had air conditioning. So immediately, guys come out of the woodwork in all directions. Guy next door was a sheet metal worker. He came home with parts to make a much better, more efficient fan that was quieter. [LAUGHTER] So they set to work building him one. [LAUGHTER] We made air conditioners—you come up with a motor, and they would come up with an air conditioner. And we would deliver them on the back of my little red wagon. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Where would you put that? Like, would that just go in the window?
Boice: We put it in a window.
Franklin: Oh, okay. And how would you attach it to the house?
Boice: Ingeniously! Most often, they would just build a rack underneath, a shelf on top, and set it up on top there. A houses, you wanted to put your air conditioner—at least about everybody did—set it at the top of the stairs where it would blow out the upstairs and cool your downstairs. They were reasonably efficient. The one thing about all the homemade air conditioners—very few of them, if any, had a recirculating system. So you had to use fresh water. This had two sides to it. You didn’t crud up your water system with alkali by reusing your water. But you did have to go out there and keep moving your hose where it drained out to water your lawn.
Franklin: [LAUGHTER] Wow. What kind of house did your family move into?
Boice: Well, originally we had a three-bedroom prefab. Prefabs come in three sizes and five colors. And a bunch of very ingenious kids on Halloween 1944 went out and stole the damn street signs. The buses coming back off of swing shift had no earthly idea where they were going. They wandered around town, because all the houses looked alike! [LAUGHTER] Then after a while—oh, let’s see, we moved in in August, and about the following spring—because we started out school at Sacajawea and then at Christmas vacation they changed us to Marcus Whitman. But up there on Longfitt, thereabouts, I was coming home from school and here sits the roof of a prefab right out in the middle of the street. Apparently, this guy was sleeping and a windstorm come along and picked up his whole roof and set it out in the middle of the street. Thereafter they had a crew of carpenters going around fastening the rooves of the prefabs down a little tighter.
Franklin: Because at that time, right, they had flat rooves.
Boice: Flat rooves.
Franklin: Correct? That kind of overhung a bit, something that the wind could really easily—
Boice: Oh, yeah.
Franklin: --grab ahold and pop off. Do you remember when they got the gabled rooves that they all have now?
Boice: No, I don’t, because I was—I think after we left, but I wouldn’t bet heavy money on it. We moved off the prefab in ’45.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: And into an A house on Swift. I don’t recall when they put the gabled rooves on.
Franklin: Okay. So what did your mom do? Did she work at Hanford at all?
Boice: No.
Franklin: No?
Boice: She was a stay-at-home mom.
Franklin: Stay-at-home mom?
Boice: It was such an interesting place. The buses ran every 30 minutes. No charge, just go out and get on the bus. One of my main jobs was—because there was no mail delivery, everybody in Richland got their mail general delivery. So I’d take the bus, go downtown, get off at the post office, check the mail, go down to the grocery store—and there was only one—that was a brief period, but then there was only one grocery store at that time. And that’s where that ski rental shop is—kayak rental shop on the corner of Lee and GW?
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Boice: That was the grocery store. The one and only. Shortly thereafter, Safeway opened up on the corner of—southwest corner of Lee and Jadwin. So things picked up. And then there was—they come up with the community center grocery store—whatever you want to call them. There was one at Thayer and Williams, which was the Groceteria. Garmo’s was out there on Stevens and Jadwin—no, Symons and something-or-other. The south end of town was—oh, nuts. He was the one that survived—Campbell’s. Campbell’s grocery store. He specialized in fresh fruit and stuff, and of the whole pile of them, he was the one that really come out of it in good shape. But the fourth one is now the school office, up there by Marcus Whitman. That was a grocery store.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: But you go down, you do your post office work, and then you go and get your groceries, and if you’re lucky you get ten cents. Next bus home. You know where the Knights of Columbus Hall is out on the bypass?
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Boice: That used to be—originally that was the Richland post office.
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Boice: It’s up there at Knight and GW, I think. There wasn’t a whole bunch of shopping centers. The Richland Theater was in existence. The drug store next door to it was there. After a while, the big brown building, which was everything, at that time, when it opened up it was CC Anderson’s. Then there was the dime store, and, oh, we were hot and heavy then. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Can you tell me a little more about your dad’s job? What would a typical day or a typical week look like for someone who worked on the fire department?
Boice: On the fire department, there is no such thing as typical. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: It was wild. In the beginning, they opened up—they were on shifts. Like everything was on day shifts, swing shift, graveyard. In our neighborhood, after my brother was born, we moved down to Swift and McPherson. Dad had come into town by that time. If you go behind the Richland Theater, you look real close, there’s two B houses back there. One of them’s a real B house and the other one ain’t. You look at the B houses over here, and the other one that ain’t is over here. And you look real close at the driveways. That was the original fire station that the City of Richland had going. That was the fire station when Hanford came in. Then they built a fire station on Jadwin in conjunction with the housing building and a couple other things, right across from the 700 Area, which is what they wanted, was coverage on that 700 Area. So that was the downtown fire station. And when they opened that up, why, then Dad came up out of Hanford.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: He wasn’t too long there, and they opened one up Williams off of Thayer, in behind the Groceteria and a little service station up there with a small satellite fire station. Two trucks and one crew. Dad was there for years and years and years.
Franklin: How long did your dad work for Hanford or the government here?
Boice: Like I say, he came in in ’43 and retired in the early ‘70s.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Boice: Rode her right on through.
Franklin: So what did he do when the community transitioned in ’58?
Boice: They bought him!
Franklin: The City of Richland did?
Boice: Yup, the City of Richland bought the outstanding time and he rolled right over.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Boice: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So can you talk a little bit more about growing up here? You said you went to Marcus Whitman and then to—and then what other schools did you go to?
Boice: Well, like I say, there was no shade.
Franklin: Right.
Boice: And very few radio stations. With a good shot you could get in Yakima, Spokane, and Walla Walla, and that was about it. So we sat around in the shade, and my mother read us stories. [LAUGHTER] One of them was a book we picked up in Walla Walla about Sacajawea. She read us the entire story of Sacajawea and the Shoshones and the Lewis and Clark Expedition, et cetera, et cetera. And in ’44, they opened up Sacajawea School. Now, as everybody does, they did their darnedest to convert us kids to saying Sah-CAH-jah-wee-ah. It didn’t take. [LAUGHTER] Because there was already Sacajawea State Park and everybody was using the term Sacajawea. But Sah-CAH-jah-wee-ah—they tried. They gave it their level best. It didn’t take. But the time that they were doing this, Miss Jesson was a teacher there was giving us the thumbnail sketch about Sacajawea. She did a pretty good job—well, you know, she told you what she knew. And she made mention of the fact that she was married to a trapper, but they didn’t know what his name or anything about him. I says, his name was Toussaint Charbonneau. He got her off a wolf man of the minute carriage for a white buffalo robe. My status went up. [LAUGHTER] And the teachers wanted to know where in the cat hair I learned that. Well, Mom read us the book. But I’ve always liked Sacajawea School. Just kind of a kinship. We went—in ’45, they opened up Marcus Whitman. We went there ’45 was all, because when they broke for the summer, we were over by—we moved. By the next fall we were over in the area where I could go to Sacajawea again. But we were going to Marcus Whitman when Roosevelt was shot—died. So that was the event of the time. You watched the transition of one President to another. The flag ceremony—the whole thing—it was interesting for a kid.
Franklin: I bet. What do you remember about during the war years that kind of focus on secrecy and security? How did that affect your life and your family’s life?
Boice: You didn’t talk to nobody about nothing! [LAUGHTER] I mean, that was just the words. You didn’t talk about—if somebody asks you what your dad does, you talk about something else. It was so interesting here in the last year, I think—time goes quicker now. A whole bunch of us from that neighborhood on Swift went to a funeral—this boy’s mother—well, yeah—Bill’s mother’s 100th birthday, after the funeral they had a sit-down dinner. I happened to sit down at the table with the whole kids of the old neighborhood. And we’re talking about all this stuff, and the secrecy, and the ones you watch out for—this girl over here. Yeah. She didn’t share the secrets with the neighbors when they were talking about who’s got butter on sale. They didn’t tell her anymore. She fried her food in butter. So no one would tell her where the butter sales were when it was available. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Was there any mention of the work going on at Hanford at school that you can remember?
Boice: The one thing of what was going on, and it wasn’t the work at Hanford, because nobody talked about that. But when the Japs were sending over the firebombs—
Franklin: Yeah, the balloon bombs.
Boice: Yes. We were told to write no letters, tell nobody, because they didn’t want it to get out how blinking effective they were.
Franklin: Right. The fear of these bombs from the sky—
Boice: They were hitting, and they were working.
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: You guys are in the right position to find out. But there was a rumor going around that a balloon-loaded Jap had landed out there in the area and they caught him and bundled him up and carted him off before they did any business. Okay, la-di-da-di-da. There’s rumors about one thing and another. And four or five years ago, CNN or one of these, they were talking about the weather balloons. They showed the colored pictures taken out here at Hanford of the balloons landing in the BPA lines and burning up. [LAUGHTER] End of speech, end of story. [LAUGHTER] But I was surprised to find out that something had happened. There was no soldiers attached or anything else, but there was an incident.
Franklin: Yeah, we’ve—there are a couple confirmed reports of—we actually did an oral history with a gentleman whose father had been a patrolman and had seen one of the balloons land and had to chase it down and didn’t realize right away that it was—had explosives attached to it. The others—there’s a couple reports of them touching down onsite. And there was a family that was killed in Idaho where they were picnicking and a balloon came down.
Boice: Idaho or Oregon?
Franklin: I think it was—oh, that’s right, maybe it was Oregon.
Boice: K Falls.
Franklin: Yes.
Boice: You go to the museum in Klamath Falls had the—or when I went through it—I was working down there twenty years ago or so—they had a big display of the family that was picnicking and the kids went to prod on it, and it went off and killed a girl.
Franklin: Yeah. Were there—when you were—so we’re still in the World War II era and we’ll definitely get to the Cold War in a bit—but were there any kind of—what do you remember about like emergency procedures in school? Was there anything special, kind of drills or something during World War II?
Boice: You mean the duck-and-cover?
Franklin: Yeah, that kind of stuff. Was there any duck-and-cover during World War II?
Boice: Oh, yeah, oh, yeah. Of course—my kindergarten days—now, man. Lived across the street from the college there at Ellensburg, and firebombs were to be worried about. But I was covered. I had a bucket full of sand and a shovel, and it was there on the front porch. When the firebomb came through there, I was going to put my sand on it. So we were prepared. God help us if it landed any place else. [LAUGHTER] But the beginning of the war when I was a kid in Ellensburg was so funny, because we were living right across the street from the college and everything was just the standard college. And the war started, and immediately, there’s all these people running around here that can’t count. Hup, two, three, four. Hup, two, three, four. I wasn’t even in kindergarten, and I knew about my ones! [LAUGHTER] And there was—you go across the street and around the corner, and there was this one half basement room where I could stand there and watch the guys play shirts-and-skins basketball. And the next time I looked, here’s a skeleton of a single engine aircraft, and a guy instructing people on how to make dead stick landing. Now, of all the damned things for a four-year-old kid to remember, dead stick landings was what he was talking about. And they had this thing skeletonized where they could show the internal workings of all the aeronautics.
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: But in Richland—oh, yes. Duck-and-cover fire drills. But they never talked about nuclear, because it was yet to be discovered. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right, right. So Ellensburg then quickly became inundated with—the state college there became a training area?
Boice: Oh, yeah. Just that fast.
Franklin: Wow. In your notes here, I also see you mentioned about the heavy military presence and the olive drab everywhere and the cops in Army uniforms.
Boice: [LAUGHTER] It absolutely was. Richland was strictly OD. I think they only had one bucket of paint. But all the vehicles were olive drab. The buses were, on today’s standards, I’ll call them a three-quarter size school bus painted olive drab. The vehicles were anything they could scrounge up, because I remember two GIs in a ’37 Chev coupe, and I know today some farmer had taken the trunk out and made a pickup box out of it. But they scrounged this thing up someplace, painted it OD, and here’s the MPs running around in a ’37 Chev pickup. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: [LAUGHTER] A homemade pickup?
Boice: Yeah. It was years later that I found out—Dad didn’t say anything about it, and he certainly knew—that it was simple, because the war was going on. Everything was prioritized. But they had unlimited supply of uniforms. So they put the cops in soldiers’ uniforms; the firemen were in Navy uniforms. The firemen stood out and were very easily recognizable, but you couldn’t tell the soldiers and the cops apart, because they all had the same stuff on. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. A couple oral histories we’ve done with people that were children in Richland, a couple of them mentioned their fathers had taken them onsite somewhat clandestinely. Did your father ever take you onsite into a secured area?
Boice: No.
Franklin: Did you ever get access to any of that some way?
Boice: No, I did not go to any secured area.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: I was raised running in and out of fire stations. To this day, when I go through the door of a fire station, my hands go into my pockets. You’re allowed to touch nothing. Because you leave fingerprints. [LAUGHTER] It’s just a genuine reflex.
Franklin: Yeah! So you said that you went to Sacajawea, then to Marcus Whitman then back to Sacajawea. Then where did you go to high school?
Boice: We went through all of the—I’ll call it the school construction. They couldn’t build schools fast enough in Richland.
Franklin: I bet.
Boice: We had double shifts. Now they have these temporary quarters—whatever you call them. But we had hutments. Sacajawea had six hutments out there. They built the hutments, and then they went to double shifts. So you went to school at 8:00, and at noon they marched out, teacher and all, and our class marched in, and we went home at 4:30 or 5:00, something like that. So we went through all of that, and then in ’49, they opened Carmichael. A brand new junior high school, man, this is cool! And I was in the seventh grade in Carmichael and I are still the proud possessor of ASB cord 001, 1949, Carmichael Junior High School. The first one they ever gave out. [LAUGHTER] And that was neat, to have a real hard-built school. It was—oh, we had class. After three months, we moved to Kennewick. The Kennewick school system—
Franklin: Your family did, or--?
Boice: Yeah!
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Boice: Dad stayed in Richland, but they were selling off. And if you didn’t have priority, the houses went to the guy that was there first. And in that A house, we were in second, so we were not in line to buy the house.
Franklin: Right.
Boice: So, Dad got a piece of property in Kennewick and we moved to Kennewick. And what a school system mess.
Franklin: Why?
Boice: They were behind. They couldn’t get money quick enough. They couldn’t build stuff fast enough. They had the red brick building—forget what it was called. It had been a high school at one time, and they pressed it back into service. It was so overcrowded you couldn’t believe it. But they finally built the high school that’s there now. It opened in ’52, I believe. ’51—yeah, class of ’52 was the first one to graduate—’52 or ’53. Graduated from Erwin S. Black Senior High School. And it was Erwin S. Black Senior High School one year. Because he was the school superintendent, and they built the school—they named the school in his honor because he had gone to bat and made trips back and forth to Washington, DC to cash some money to use for the school system. Then they got in a shooting match with the Tri-City Herald. [LAUGHTER] And Erwin S. Black and the schoolboard got run out of town, and they chiseled his name off the front of the school. But for one year it was E.S. Black.
Franklin: And then it just became Kennewick High School.
Boice: It became Kennewick High School.
Franklin: Can you talk a little bit more about this disagreement between Erwin S. Black and the schoolboard and the Tri-City Herald?
Boice: It was several things. One of them, there was a book—and I can’t recall—Magruder? McGregor? Somebody. It was a history book, and it mentioned communism. And that was brought up and made a big deal. This was back in the McCarthy era.
Franklin: Right.
Boice: That was brought out. And there was a lot of talk—Black was a certified building inspector, and he inspected the construction of the high school. It was said by a lot of people that it wasn’t up to standards; that the concrete wasn’t what it should have been. And I don’t know what the specs were. I wasn’t into concrete work at that time. I have been later. But I know when we were hanging the benches in the ag shop, where you would put a concrete anchor in the wall ordinarily and it would hold, they didn’t there. And they had to through-bolt through the wall to get to things to hang. So there was—and transfer of equipment and stuff—this was swapped for that, and that was swapped for this—and I don’t remember that, and the only guy I know that did know has died. [LAUGHTER] But one of the kids that graduated from Erwin S. Black, one of the few that was in that class, worked with him off and on and was aware of what went on.
Franklin: When you said that there was a book that mentioned communism, did it mention it in a favorable light, or did it just make a mention to communism?
Boice: More or less, it just made a mention.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: I was on the—oh, we had the open house at the school, and I was one of the tour guides. Yeah, I showed them the book and what it had to say. And I don’t recall anything drastic.
Franklin: So then did you graduate from Kennewick High School?
Boice: No. [LAUGHTER] The military had a hell of a sale. Anybody that enlisted by the first of February got the Korean GI Bill of Rights. And those that enlisted afterwards didn’t. So I drug up in January and joined the Air Force.
Franklin: Oh. Without graduating.
Boice: Without graduating.
Franklin: Okay. Interesting.
Boice: So I served my illustrious military career in a photo lab in Mountain Home, Idaho. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: And how long were you in the Air Force?
Boice: Two years.
Franklin: Two years, and then you were discharged?
Boice: Yes, yup, yup.
Franklin: When you were in school, you mentioned being in school during this McCarthy era, one of the real hot points of the Cold War. Can you talk a little bit about the civil defense procedures and kind of the general feeling of that time as it related to—because I imagine with Hanford so close, and now knowing what was being produced there, that would have been a likely target. It’s a major part of the nuclear weapons stockpile. So can you talk a little bit about that time and just the general feeling?
Boice: Well, you knew what was going to happen—or what they said was gonna happen. It was the duck-and-cover thing. And we had drills. A lot of what they said what was gonna happen—now they talk about getting into water to modulate it. Then, it was one of the things that they didn’t want you to do. Because we had the irrigation ditch that was running right alongside of the schools. But then they didn’t want you to get into it. So, it’s changed. They had the civil defense procedures—Radiant Cleaners, they’re in Kennewick. They had panel delivery cleaner trucks. They were rigged for emergency ambulances. They had fold-down bunks in them; they could handle four people. [LAUGHTER] It was taken serious.
Franklin: Did you feel any particular sense of worry, or did it not seem to really affect you, your daily life or your psychological—
Boice: It never bothered me ‘til years afterwards. When they talked about the Green Run, where they turned a bunch of that stuff loose, just to see what it would do to the citizens and count the drift on it. The people that had—the down-winders, and the people that had the thyroid problems. My sister was one of the first rounds that went to court over that.
Franklin: Really?
Boice: Because she was—we moved into Richland. She had her third birthday in the prefab, when they were still practicing how to build this stuff. And then we moved in on a farm where the alfalfa grew, the cow ate it, gave them milk, and everything was recycled and nothing went over the fence. And so it bothered me, then, that they used us as guinea pigs. But the other hand, they really didn’t know what in the cat hair that they were doing in a lot of cases. The nuclear waste? You’ve heard about the radioactive rabbit turds.
Franklin: I have.
Boice: You have?
Franklin: Yes, I have, but why don’t you mention that?
Boice: I was working with Vitro out here—’72, I think it was. The radioactivity, of course, is settled on the sagebrush. And the rabbits went around eating the leaves, just leaving fat, dumb and happy, and concentrating everything into the rabbit turds. And they were contemplating taking the top six inches of about two or three sections and burying it. Only they couldn’t decide where they had to build the hole. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: When you—you mentioned just a minute ago that you were on a farm, and you had the cows that would have eaten the tainted alfalfa—was your milk ever tested? Or did anyone ever come and--
Boice: Nah. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: test your—Were you ever tested for—or your family, anybody in your family, ever tested for radiation? Because I know that they, at one point, had those Whole Body Counters that they would test—some children in Pasco were tested through those machines?
Boice: You ever been through a Whole Body Counter?
Franklin: I have not been through a Whole Body Counter.
Boice: Depending on where you’re at, there may or may not be a—they’re kind of a joke. Now, when I was working here at Vitro, we went through the Whole Body thing, and they were serious. I mean, before we got cleared out, we went through the chamber, and we were counted. I went to work in South Carolina. They—as far as I was concerned—were very sloppy with their radiation handling and their checking and their radiation monitoring. We had a hand-and-foot monitoring station where we was going in and out of. You stick your hands in and they check it, and your feet were there at the same time. Well, this one time, I come up pretty hot, so I found an RM. I says, that machine gave me a bad reading. Oh, he says, that machine’s no good anyway. Come around to this other one over here and we’ll check you out. Well, if the blinking thing’s no good, why in the cat hair are we using it?! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So, just a second ago, you mentioned you were working for Vitro?
Boice: Uh-huh.
Franklin: What is or was Vitro?
Boice: What was Vitro? Okay. Vitro Engineering—and I don’t know how many times the name changed hands. But these guys were the ones that laid out the City of Richland—laid out the Hanford Projects. These were the strictly insiders. There was pictures on a wall of my grade school buddy’s dad, who I remember being a surveyor in Richland there. And these guys—this has gone on forever, and they were a pretty dug-in organization. To the point that they were not really aware that there was a world outside the fence. They’d heard about it, but they weren’t too sure it existed. [LAUGHTER] But I ended up at Vitro, and we did the Tank Farms that they’re having problems with, the hot tanks? We were in on the modification of that farm. We surveyed in there quite a bit. Whenever they show the pictures on TV, they always show you the evaporation facility. They show you that same picture. Warren Wolfe and I—I say Warren and I—it’s a little—our crew brought that up out of the ground, and we modified the tank farm, and we laid out the construction on that building from the ground right through the top.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: And I was very fortunate, because all my surveying experience to that point was with the railroads and pipelines and longline work. Construction surveying was new to me. And I got throwed in with an old boy that was good at it. [LAUGHTER] And I learned a bunch working with him. And rolled right over, later on, into Hanford, too. We got in on the end of that—[LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Hanford II?
Boice: Yeah.
Franklin: Oh, as--T-O-O. And which building was this that you and Warren Wolfe and your crew built?
Boice: All I remember is the evaporation facility.
Franklin: What was your specific job at Vitro? Were you a surveyor?
Boice: I was a surveyor. I was an instrument man. You get in the hot zones—we got inside the Canyon Building on several different occasions. And you got suited up, and I was instructed very specifically and emphatically to touch nothing, because anything that got crapped up, they kept. And we couldn’t get the instruments crapped up. But that stuff was so hot that the paper—the Rite-in-the-Rain books have got a specific paper there that has pitch in it or something—it attracts radioactivity like a sponge. And when they kept the notes, then one of us would stay inside and the other guy would get out in the clean zone, and we’d have to transcribe all the notes, because that book was so hot that they wouldn’t let it out of the area. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: There was some weird stuff going on.
Franklin: Any other—
Boice: Yeah, but there’s some I ain’t gonna talk about. [LAUGHTER] Okay. We came so close to having a nuclear disaster, it wasn’t even funny. We were good. We were awful good. And we were fast. And we were set up out there on an offset, and Rosie the labor foreman come over. Somebody said you needed a shot here for a hole for a penetration into the tank. Man, we whipped that out and figured the pull and what it was gonna take. Swung over there, put a distance and an angle, drove the stake in the ground. I figured that Warren checked it, and away we went. We come back in a week or so, or a few days later, we were back in that same farm. And Rosie comes over there and he says, would you guys check that again? Because these guys was digging a hole there and they’re supposed to hit a tank. And we checked it. And I lied, and Warren swore to it. [LAUGHTER] We forgot we was on a ten-foot offset. So they’re digging clear to one side of this tank, and just good solid dirt. Had we been just half as screwed-up as we were, they would have gone right down the edge of that tank with a core drill. And we’d have had ooey-gooeys all over the place. They talked to us. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Kind of a happy accident, right?
Boice: Yeah, we were—I’ll never forget Warren’s work. He’d come back with the boss and he says, name me one guy in this world ever got through this life being perfect. He says, always pissed me off, he’s a damned carpenter. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So you went to—you joined the Air Force, you went to Idaho for two years. When you came back—or what did you do after that? Did you come back to Richland after?
Boice: We were living in Kennewick.
Franklin: Living in Kennewick.
Boice: And I was working at the Washington Hardware Store. And this kid—we were working on cars in my buddy’s garage. And this guy comes through and he’s surveying for the Corps. And he talked that they were setting up a photogrammetry section. Well, heck, that’s what I was doing in the service. So, I beat feet over to Walla Walla to sign up to lay out photo mosaics. And they say, we haven’t got enough work for fulltime at that job. Are you a draftsman? No, I are not a draftsman. He says, would you take a job surveying? You bet. I became a surveyor. [LAUGHTER] And we worked from the mouth of the Deschutes River to Lewiston, Idaho. The first thing was the mouth of the Deschutes to McNary Dam—we mapped from the water level to the top of the bluffs by hand.
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: And then we went through, starting in ’58, and we inventoried the railroad. Now, when you inventory a railroad, we inventoried a railroad. Everything they possessed was put down. First, you go through and you measure and put stations—mark station markings on the rails. 80 miles of them. Then you go back and you reference everything the railroad’s got. Ties, spikes, tie plates, rails, joints, joint bars—if the fence moves, how far did it move, from what to what? If the rail changes, if there’s an isolation joint in there, you put that in. When you come to a switch, you measure everything that’s in the switch facility. You go—everything that that railroad has got. You become very, very familiar with railroads. [LAUGHTER] And then we went ahead, and we built railroads clear up to Lewistown. We handled a railroad layout real heavy. When they—are you familiar with the Marmes men?
Franklin: Yes.
Boice: Luck of the draw, I was on that. Because we were the—call it the resident survey crew in that area.
Franklin: Oh.
Boice: And we were babysitting construction. Make sure they got sticks out ahead of them, make sure that things are checked out behind them. They’re putting in a detour, why, check that out. They’re building a bridge, make sure it’s set up right, and check it out when they get done. So, first they call up and they say, there’s a guy down here at the mouth of the Palouse River thinks he hit something, and he wants an elevation on this cave, see where the water’s gonna come when they raise the water behind Lower Monumental, I believe.
Franklin: Yeah, I think that sounds right.
Boice: Is that the dam? So we went down there and run him in an elevation, painted it on the cave face. Happily on our way. Well, they hit pay dirt. [LAUGHTER] They dug up bones. So we were called back. They wanted—because the drillers were in there then doing sub-cell drilling of what’s down there. So we got to come in there and locate their holes so they know where what is. That was interesting. The whole thing. Now that the world has got into this Ice Age floods and stuff, I wish so heavily that I knew then what I know now. Because the layers that they went through were very definitely visible. This thing had been covered in various floods. But it was so interesting, the stuff that they found. Because it became an international incident. One of the coolest cats in the whole joint was Pono the Greek. And Pono run the sluice box. He had been all over the world. When the girls dug everything out, then they took the dirt to Pono, and he washed it down. Pono found thread of somebody’s sewing. Then they found the needle. And that to me was so cool. They had this needle that looked for all the world like a darning needle. How in the blazes they cut that eye in there! This was a really heads-up organization. [LAUGHTER] Interesting. Very interesting.
Franklin: Yeah, that was a very significant archaeological find.
Boice: I’ve got to go back some day and talk to that doctor. At an anniversary of something, we’re down here at Columbia Park, and he was talking and I showed up there with the historical society doing something-or-other. And I talked to him for about five minutes. He mentioned the fact that he wanted to see the guy that painted that elevation. I said, well, you’re looking at him. [LAUGHTER] It was—I got to go talk to him. Because one of the things in their report—they talked that the ditch was dug with a Cat. Now, I ain’t saying they’re wrong, because I didn’t see any digging when I was there. But just—as you’re going up and looking at a hole, and in those days we had looked at a bunch of holes—we were inspectors. They were going behind the soils guys. And it just to me had all the appearance of somebody that dug a ditch with a dragline. And I always figured it was a dragline in there, and somebody said it was a Cat. I don’t totally agree with him. But the bones were so interesting. They said that the one thing about the site was there had been somebody living on it forever. Just, the further down you went, the more primitive they became, ‘til you got past the layer of the Mazama ash, when Crater Lake blew its top. And they went past Mazama ash and suddenly things looked pretty sophisticated. That’s where the needle came from and a few other things. It was neat. I’d have liked to spend more time with them.
Franklin: Yeah. I’m sure you heard about the dam failing and the site flooding after they—because they created the protective dam around the shelter, and that failed and let water in.
Boice: It didn’t fail! The SOB was never built to hold! When they brought us down there to check these drill holes out, the drillers—we had other stuff to do that morning, and we didn’t get down there until 10:00. The driller had a half-a-dozen holes in. I’m talking to this old driller, and he says, they ain’t never gonna keep water out of that thing, because there’s a layer of palm wood down there and it’s gonna leak like a sieve. But they did it anyway. And we’re down there checking on settlement pins and a whole bunch of other stuff when the water’s coming up. But we’re all on the radio, and it’s like a big one-party line—you can hear what’s going on no matter where. And they’re putting in pumps, and the more pumps they put in, the more water they sprayed out, but noting changed. [LAUGHTER] So it’s a lovely fishing pond. But interesting: it was shortly thereafter that I quit the corps and went to Alaska. Within a year-and-a-half, two years, I’m up there doing the same thing, only instead of spotting holes in the ground, we’re spotting oil wells. And sitting in a warm-up shack, talking to a driller, and he made mention of the fact that they had spudded oil wells. Now, when they spud an oil well, they get in there with an oversized auger, like you’re setting telephone poles. And they go down there through the mud and the blood and the crud ‘til they get to solid rock. And then they bring in the drills. And he says, we have yet to spud a well here that we didn’t get palm wood. And that has always sat with me. Now, when they’re talking about global warming—if there has been palm trees growing at the mouth of the Palouse River, and palm trees growing at Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, it’s been a lot warmer than people are willing to talk about. [LAUGHTER] Just boggles my mind that there is palm wood in Alaska as well as Marmes Rockshelter.
Franklin: Wow, that’s really interesting. So you were—Marmes, then Alaska. When did you come to work for Vitro at Hanford?
Boice: That was a pretty short season. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: At Hanford, or in Alaska?
Boice: At Vitro. Oh, at Alaska I worked for various contractors. But Vitro—we didn’t philosophically match. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Ah.
Boice: Their minds were all inside the fence. And I’m too antagonistic. [LAUGHTER] If we had a problem—thou shalt not speak bad of Vitro. And we’re laying out penetrations on top of a tank. And they’re all done. Radius and angle—which radius is—and they had them at different stages there, and other people had been doing them. And this tank had been there for quite a—not quite a while, but every once in a while someone would come in and set some more holes, set some more holes. Well, they didn’t continue their circle around—nobody closed the circle. So by the time we get there ‘til the end, we have to figure out by adding up each and every hole all the way around the circle at every different radius to get the dimensions to where we’re at. Where if the guy had closed out his circle, you could have backed him out and been out of there in about a tenth the time. So I happened to make the statement, I said, Vitro drafting strikes again. And I was a marked man. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: How long in total, then, did you work out on the Hanford site?
Boice: Well, in ’56-’57, or ’57-’58, they were doing a lot of military work out there. And we did the roads up Rattlesnake—was in on that. The road up Saddle Mountain. A lot of RADAR sites. You’re aware of the Nike sites on—
Franklin: Yup.
Boice: --the north side of the river over there?
Franklin: Yup.
Boice: Been there, done that. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So—that wasn’t for Vitro, was that when you were with—
Boice: That was the Corps.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: And we also did a lot of work up at Moses Lake.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: All the runway extensions up there, we were in on. They throwed us in the clink. They did not like our very presence.
Franklin: Why?
Boice: Apparently Moses Lake had two different structures. There was the Strategic Air Command structure up there, and there was the Military Air Transport Service. I didn’t know the difference. Les was—we were doing some mapping work. And the three of us were just gonna run some levels out to the next site we were gonna work at. And we took off the BM—benchmark—at the control tower. And we get about two turns out across the flight line there. And a bunch of guys come out, like a changing of the guard or something. Two or three of them stopped to talk to Kirby and George. The other five come out along, and they walked, just formed a circle around me, and they wanted to know if I wanted to go with them. They had submachine guns and a whole bunch of other stuff, and I said, heck, there’s nothing I’d rather do! [LAUGHTER] So they called up Walla Walla and they verified our existence. Then we had to go through security and get badges to—and we’d been working on that thing off-and-on for months. But we just hadn’t stepped in the right zone.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Boice: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: They were just kind of waiting for you, then, to—
Boice: Just different—different bunch of stuff.
Franklin: Right. When you were in school in Kennewick, so after the—or even just after the word was out about the Hanford site, after August 6th, 1945, when you were in school, did they teach anything about Hanford history? Was it—
Boice: Go back to August 6th.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: What a day. [EMOTIONAL] What a wonderful day! I’d been down at the Village Theater—now the Richland Theater. I don’t even remember what was playing. But we came out, [EMOTIONAL] and the bells were ringing. The church down there, they were ringing their bells. And everybody was whooping it up—the war was over! And I’ll never forget, some gal in there alongside the street, she had half a dozen kids with garbage can lids and a parade going, and they’re banging and clanging. And the festivities that the war was over. And then we went back and they came out with the thing and Truman said, It’s the Atomic Bomb, and that’s what we’ve been building. And Mom went over and talked to the lady next door. She mentioned the U-235. And the gal says, they didn’t talk about that, did they? And she’d been keeping files, and her husband had been working on it. And neither of them would ever admit that they knew what the other one was doing. It was that tight. And the security in Richland. The FBI knew everybody in town, because it was not uncommon—it was a regular thing that they would come around and they would talk to you, and ask about him. And then they’d go talk to him and ask about you. It was just—it was what was going on. We didn’t know why. Well, after that—yeah, after it came out what was going on out there, then we knew what was there. But until Truman come out and said, here’s what was going on, we didn’t know.
Franklin: What about V-J Day? Was that a separate kind of a big celebration?
Boice: Yeah.
Franklin: Was that as big as the news of the bomb drop? Or was the bomb drop more of a pivotal moment here in the—
Boice: Well, the V-J Day, the end of the war, was the big day. That’s the celebration that I’ll never forget.
Franklin: Can you talk about it?
Boice: June—you heard about Harry Truman, didn’t you? When he come out to Hanford?
Franklin: No.
Boice: [LAUGHTER] The head of security was a guy by the name of McHale. And Dad worked pretty close with him with the fire department because everything was safety and security and if you had a problem, see McHale. Now, the guy had taken—he was pretty much high up in intelligence—but he had assumed the position of a first sergeant. And Sarge McHale was the guy. No matter what happened, Sarge McHale. Harry Truman did a fantastic job, and made his reputation just going from plant to plant—the Truman Investigating Committee, cutting down waste. And I guess he did a heck of a job. But he come out to Hanford and demanded to be let in.
Franklin: Sorry, was this when he was Vice President or President?
Boice: He was a senator!
Franklin: Senator—Senator Harry Truman. Okay.
Boice: And he comes there and demands to be let in. And of course, the guard says, McHale! And McHale comes over there and meets him head-on. He says, I’m Senator Truman, and I demand to be let in. McHale says, I don’t give a damn if you’re President of the United States; you ain’t coming in here. And he didn’t. Well, years later, and I believe it was when they were dedicating the Elks Club in Pasco, Truman was back up in this area. And he was President. And he come out to Hanford and he looked up McHale. And he said, uh-huh, you son of a bitch, you didn’t think I’d make ‘er, did ya? [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. That’s a great story. [LAUGHTER] But thank you. So after the war was over, was what went on at Hanford taught in school? Was there mention of the work at Hanford that built the bomb? Was that part of the curriculum here in town?
Boice: The local lore.
Franklin: The local lore, but nothing in the school at all?
Boice: Not that I recall.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: Everything was—there was a terrific amount of pride. The Atomic City, the atomic this, the atomic that. The first barber shop quartet come to town, when GE left—no, DuPont left, GE come in, four guys come in from Schenectady, New York with a barber shop quartet. First ones I ever saw. And they were the Atomic City Four. And the next one were the Nuclear Notes. [LAUGHTER] But there was an atomic pride, all over the area. Then there was the people that thought we should be ashamed of it. That we had built this device that killed a whole bunch of people.
Franklin: Now, were these people in the community? Or people outside?
Boice: Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.
Franklin: And this was right at the time—
Boice: Oh, no, no, no. This is--
Franklin: Later?
Boice: Last week? [LAUGHTER] Last few years ago, yeah.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: I got my—I’m still behind Hanford.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: Screwed up and all. Back to Vitro for a little bit. Like I say, they were—the organization that literally purchased and built the city of Richland—now, at that time I was flying, and I was flying out of the Richland airport. And there was an old geezer out there called Norm. Norm flew the bench. He was always on the bench out in front of the airport, there. And if somebody just going up to burn up some hours or play, why, Norm was willing to go along. I saw Norm and I hauled him around and then I went back to work for Vitro. And Pritchard brought this guy through—it was Norm! Norm had been the head of real estate when the entire city of Richland and the whole Hanford Project was bought. He was in charge of it. And he retired and trained his successor, who died. And he trained the next guy, who died. So they had Norm on a retainer. Just to ride dirt on real estate. Quite an interesting character!
Franklin: Yeah, I bet. I think I’d kind of like to return about something we were just talking about a minute ago, where you were talking about people that—especially in the later years that have been critical of Hanford. I’d like to get more of your feelings on that. On how you feel about that, or kind of what part of their argument or their viewpoint that you don’t agree with.
Boice: They were talking about—well, first there was the Richland High School and their bomb insignia. It was felt that they were making a big deal or prideful about this terrible event. And I always go back to a group from Japan that came over and were very critical of Richland for the same thing. And the gentleman who was interviewing them or was talking to them, when they got done, informed them in no uncertain terms, that we were invited very unceremoniously into that war, and we’re sorry if you didn’t like the way we ended it. [LAUGHTER] You get to researching, I’d like to bring up, why didn’t they drop the bomb on Tokyo? Because there was nothing left on Tokyo to injure. If you read about Curt LeMay and the Strategic Air Command and the bombing of Japan, he had eliminated that thing down to—the B-29 was supposed to be a high altitude bomber. And it wasn’t as great at it as it was advertised to be. But they had eliminated the defenses. And they made the B-29 into a low-level trucking company, and they were just hauling stuff over and unloading it. And the firebombing of Tokyo—the movies they showed us in the Air Force was something to behold. I mean, they—it was so much worse than what happened at Nagasaki or Hiroshima, either one. He was told to save two or three targets—clean targets. And when they come over there with the bombs, then they used these clean targets and saw what they could do. Of the four devices—the four nuclear devices, we used—was it four or three in World War II?
Franklin: Are you referring to—
Boice: All but one of them came from Hanford.
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: The first one at Los Alamos was plutonium. And then Hiroshima was Oak Ridge.
Franklin: Yup.
Boice: And then Nagasaki was plutonium.
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: But there’s those that—and there were at the time, there was a big discussion on, should we demonstrate to them what this thing could do? And the big argument was, what if it doesn’t do? What if you drop it and it don’t do nothing? [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Interesting. Can you speak to—or do you remember anything about the Civil Rights era in the Tri-Cities?
Boice: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: There were reports of—you know, it’s known that Kennewick was kind of a sun-down town, and that many minorities were forced to live in East Pasco. And that during the war—
[NEW CLIP]
Franklin: There had been a sizable African American population at Hanford, but that after the war many of them left. So I was wondering if you could speak to the Civil Rights action you might have seen or you might have observed or anything in the Tri-Cities?
Boice: Well, I was up in Lewiston when their civil rights march come through. But it was well-advertised. People knew what was gonna happen. And I was at the hardware store, and there’s a black cement finisher I’d worked with building houses in Pasco. I says, Leroy! You gonna come march on Kennewick? He said, [AFFECTED DIALECT] shee-it. I wantsta live in Kennewick just about as bad as you wantsta live in East Pasco. [LAUGHTER] They had a march on Kennewick—a bunch of people that—I am told, because I was living in Lewiston, and I was in Lewiston at the time. But there’s a group out of Seattle and a group out of Portland come up to Pasco, and they marched across the bridge. They marched down Avenue C, up Washington Street, down Kennewick Avenue. And Kennewick yawned. Nobody particularly cared. They got to the Methodist church, and the groups come out and says, you look hot. Come on in and have some lemonade. They sat down at the church, had lemonade and went home. And that was the civil rights march in Kennewick. But there is—when I was there growing up, there were no blacks in Kennewick. There were blacks in Pasco, and there were no blacks in Richland. With the exception—the guy that run the shoeshine parlor at Ganzel’s barbershop lived in the basement, and they tell me that there was two black porters at the Hanford House. And that was the total black population of Richland.
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: But they were not welcome in Kennewick. It wasn’t that big a deal when I was walking down Kennewick Avenue when a couple of black guys—they were bums, hobos—come walking down Main Street, you might as well say. And a cop pulled up and says, the railroad tracks are two blocks down that way. They go east and west. Either one will get you out of town. And they went to the railroad track. I always figured that the blacks wanted to move to Kennewick because they couldn’t stand to live next to the blacks in Pasco. [LAUGHTER] And if you want to get right down to it, well, all that hooping and hollering they do right now, you go down to Fayette, Mississippi, which is 98.645% black, and all the blacks in Mississippi can live in Fayette and nobody cares. Go down to Van Horn, Texas, which is all Mexicans, and they can all live in Van Horn, Texas, and nobody cares. But you let half a dozen white guys go up in Ruby Ridge, Idaho, and they just have yourself a storm. Why, these are a bunch of white separatists! If everybody else can live together, why can’t the whites?
Franklin: Interesting. Some might say they were kind of starting a separatist movement up there, I think—claiming their own territory, and—
Boice: So what?
Franklin: Well, living together communally is often different from claiming that you don’t—aren’t subject to the law, the jurisdiction of the United States.
Boice: Nobody said that they weren’t subject to the law.
Franklin: Well--
Boice: They kept trying to integrate Prudhoe, but he kept getting cold and going home.
Franklin: Oh, in Alaska?
Boice: Yeah!
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: They had a heck of a time keeping Prudhoe integrated. Because them black people do not like cold weather! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: I don’t think a lot of people like cold weather.
Boice: It was a big joke when we went down south there, to work at Savannah River. Because—hell, we’d come out of here and it was Thanksgiving. It was cold. We got down there, of course, if you’re traveling you’re gonna get nightshift. We left having the cold weather here at night down there. And I says, that’s okay, you’ll get yours come summertime when it heats up. But surprisingly—and I was really surprised that they didn’t take the hot weather any better than we did. I mean, it was miserably hot, but they were just as big a problem as a rest of us.
Franklin: I imagine it’s quite a bit more humid down there, though, with the—when it gets hot, you know. Because the heat with the humidity is—
Boice: Yeah, it is.
Franklin: --much worse than the dry heat.
Boice: Yeah, yeah.
Franklin: Is there anything that we haven’t talked about that you’d like to mention? Or any question I haven’t asked you that you think I should—
Boice: I don’t know what it would be. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah, we’ve really gone—really jumped all over the place. It’s been great. Anyone else have any questions?
Hungate: No, the only question—you said you’d done some work with the railroad. What railroad?
Boice: Name one. [LAUGHTER]
Hungate: All railroads? Union Pacific, all the different--?
Boice: Yes. Right now they’re talking about the oil trains, and their problems with them tipping over? I wonder how long it’s gonna take them to get to the problem. In the beginning, railroads were 39-foot rails bolted together. Measured mile after mile after mile of it. Then in about, oh, the middle ‘60s—’67, thereabouts, ’66—when they were putting in the SP&S, that’s now the BN—the Burlington Northern on the Washington side. They went with quarter-mile steel. And the first question that we had as surveyors—because you’re constantly working with the expansion and contraction of steel—was how are they going to control that in long rails? Because if you’re working on railroads very long, first thing you realize is do not sit on the joints in a hot day. You get your butt pinched! [LAUGHTER] When those tracks expand. So we brought this up and the first thing they told us was, well, they’ve got special steel and it’s only going to expand sideways. Well, that story lasted about as long as it took when they started putting it together. Because when they started—they’d set up a factory down here, if you’ll call it that. Brought in 39-foot un-punched rail, and just rolled her off, welded her together and ground down the joints and put her in quarter-mile sections. They were very particular when they put it in at the temperature that they laid that down on, where before—you know what a creeper is? Okay, it’s a kind of a hairpin device that you put over the rail so that it will slide less. But in the old days, the 39-foot rail very seldom saw any creepers. When they put that quarter-mile steel together, you saw a lot of creepers. Now they have gone to ribbon rail. They welded the quarter-mile steel together. You drive down to Portland, and you look at that rail, and you’re gonna go a long ways before you see a joint. There at Quinton and Washman’s dip—which don’t mean a thing to you guys—[LAUGHTER] about a mile post from 120-whatever, they have got a creeper on each—alongside of each and every tie. I mean, they were using creepers like they were going out of style. To me, the expansion’s the thing that they got to worry about, but then they should have figured this out because they’re running it. But it’s a factor. You got to factor it in when you’re doing a pipeline, when you’re doing a railroad. When we were doing the pipeline, Maurice Smith of British Petroleum, who was the head pipeline engineer, I had lunch with him. [LAUGHTER] It ain’t like we sit down at a specified lunch—he dropped in at the chow hall I was eating and sat down at our table. So we got to talking about it. And that was the question I brought up, was how are you going to handle the expansion in the steel? And he says—he admitted it was a heck of a problem. And that you got to run as many Ss as you can so that it’ll take up and accordion itself. And when you’ve got a long straight stretch, it’s gonna give you problems. [LAUGHTER] Because it’s gonna go someplace. And that’s the thing that—after they started the quarter-mile steel, a couple of years later, we had a hot summer. The article in the Tri-City Herald called it the long, hot summer, where we had over 90 days of over 90-degree weather. But they were cutting chunks out of that railroad to keep her on the road bed. And at that time, when the SP&S was having these problems, the UP was laughing at them. They said, we tried this stuff in Wyoming. It didn’t work. And they’re using 39-foot stuff, and it was just whistling down the road. But now I see that they’re using the ribbon rail like everybody else. I can’t see how it’s gonna work, but the they’re doing it. [LAUGHTER] It ain’t my role! [LAUGHTER] The other one was the Camas Prairie. And that starts out, oh, about ten miles above Ice Harbor Dam, thereabouts, breaks loose, and goes clear up past Lewiston, up into Grangeville, Idaho. That’s a crazy little river.
Franklin: That’s the one that they filmed that Charles Bronson movie.
Boice: Breakheart Pass?
Franklin: Breakheart Pass, yeah.
Boice: Yeah, that was done up there. You get into railroad history—this area is knee-deep in it. Vollard was the great character in that. He started out with a little portage railroad around Idaho Falls and that area. And then he got the Walla Walla line—I call it the WWWWW&WWW line—Walla Walla, Waitsburg, Washtucna and Washington Wail Woad—which was a money maker. But he ended up getting a lineup from Portland out here. And then when they started building the Northern Pacific, they were building from both ends, and he was hauling Northern Pacific rail over his tracks and taking it out in railroad stock. By the time they got connected over in Montana, he owned a sizable chunk of the railroad. [LAUGHTER] And it was—you get into that railroad history, and it’s just takeover checkers. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Great. Well, thank you so much, George.
Boice: Okay! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: It was a pleasure talking to you. And, yeah, thanks for coming in today.
Boice: All righty. Write if you find work! [LAUGHTER]
Robert Franklin: My name is Robert Franklin and I’m conducting an oral history interview with Daniel Barnett on July 13th, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. I will be talking with Daniel Barnett about his experiences growing up in Richland and working at the Hanford site. So the best place to start, I think, is the beginning. So why don’t you tell me where you were born and what year.
Daniel Barnett: I was born in Aberdeen, Washington in 1938—August 13th.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: And when the war started, my dad was working for the Harbor Patrol in Seattle as a patrolman. He heard that they were hiring over here, so he came over here and they hired him almost instantly because he already had the security clearance and everything.
Franklin: Ah.
Barnett: So he called my mom and told her that he had a job over here and to get herself packed, because he was gonna get her. But when she moved here, she couldn’t move to Richland. It wasn’t even on the map at that time. They took it off the map and everything. She had to move to Prosser.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: And later on when they finally got a prefab built, we moved into a prefab at 1011 Sanford.
Franklin: Where was your father from? Was he from Washington?
Barnett: He was from Oregon. All my family is from Oregon except for me. My dad said he couldn’t get across the border fast enough.
Franklin: So being from—what drew him to Hanford? Was it the pay?
Barnett: I think so. Well, he was originally—he worked at a plywood plant, then he went to work for Harbor Patrol. He had asthma, which the wet climate apparently irritated. So he had a chance to get over here, so he moved over here.
Franklin: Okay. So the climate played a—
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: --big factor and wanted the dry and the sunshine.
Barnett: Well, probably the pay, too, because the pay was good for those times.
Franklin: Right. And how long did your family live in Prosser before you moved?
Barnett: We were there about a year, I think. I don’t remember truthfully—I was only about five when we moved there. And I was there probably about a year. I just vaguely remember moving to Prosser.
Franklin: Right. Okay. And you moved—so you came over in 1944—
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: --right? And so you would have moved to Richland in 1944? About there?
Barnett: Oh—I think we actually—Dad came over, I think in ’43. A year later, in ’44 we moved over.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Barnett: Because I remember ’45 when they announced the war—dropping the bomb on Japan, and Mom told Dad when he come home, I know what you’ve been guarding! [LAUGHTER] Because he didn’t even know what he was guarding at the time.
Franklin: Right. Wow. Did your dad talk about his work much? Or maybe [INAUDIBLE]
Barnett: He worked as a patrolman until they sold the town and then he became a painter.
Franklin: A painter?
Barnett: Yeah, he was an artist so then he became a painter and painted the houses and the buildings in Richland. Because when the government owned Richland, if you had a paint job needed done on the house, you called them and they come in and painted it. You didn’t hire somebody from a company to paint it. The government did it.
Franklin: And was he a patrolman onsite the entire time until they sold the town?
Barnett: Yeah, yeah.
Franklin: Okay. Was he assigned to a specific area, or--?
Barnett: No, just general patrol. He talked about patrolling the fences, taking their Jeeps and going down the length of the fences and checking them out, and all that sort of stuff. But just a general patrolman, not any special area.
Franklin: Okay. And you said that your—what did your mother do when she first got here?
Barnett: Oh, she was just a housewife. She eventually went to work as a waitress. And then finally she got on to work at Hanford. She worked with Battelle for about 29 years as a lab tech.
Franklin: Oh, wow. Do you know which lab she worked in?
Barnett: Well, she did—where they did testing on the animals. Though at that time they were testing marijuana on chimpanzees and different types of animals. She did the test work on the meat from the animals.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Barnett: So I don’t know exactly—it was—again, probably wasn’t supposed to be told, so she didn’t say much about it.
Franklin: Did she have any schooling beyond—
Barnett: Just high school.
Franklin: Just high school. And what about your father, did he--?
Barnett: He was just high school.
Franklin: Just high school as well. Where did your mother waitress at?
Barnett: Well, the first place she had was O’Malley’s Drug Store which now is a—what do you call it? A Tojo Gym? Where they teach different martial arts?
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Barnett: It’s down on Williams, right off of Williams. That’s what it is now.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: O’Malley’s Drug Store eventually closed, moved up to Kadlec. And a lady bought it from him, and now she’s down there on George Washington Way.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: And right by O’Malley’s Drug Store used to be a Mayfair market. So I sold newspapers out at the lunch halls at Hanford. Sold—well, I don’t remember—but I think it was the Columbia Basin News to start out, because that was the first newspaper of the Tri-Cities, was the Columbia Basin News. Then they bought them out and became the Tri-City Herald. But I remember selling—give you an idea, you can figure out how much time, because I remember one of the headlines was—one of the union leaders had been arrested by the government. And I don’t even remember who it was, it’s been so long ago. But I remember that was one of the headlines of one of the newspapers.
Franklin: What about—do you remember the Richland Villager at all? That was a local paper.
Barnett: Yeah, but it wasn’t very much. It was very small.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: I delivered the Seattle P-I.
Franklin: Seattle P-I?
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: Okay. And you said your mother started waitressing at Malley? At O’Malley’s or Malley’s?
Barnett: At O’Malley’s.
Franklin: O’Malley’s. And then did she waitress anywhere else in Richland?
Barnett: Not that I know of. From there she went out to Hanford.
Franklin: And that was when pharmacies or drug stores as we know them now, they used to have lunch counters.
Barnett: Yeah, yeah.
Franklin: Right. And so they would go there and they were more of like a café-slash-pharmacy.
Barnett: Yeah. The one up on Thayer, I think it was Densow’s at that time. That had a heyday lunch counter in it, coffee shop. It closed up and now I think it’s just pharmacy.
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Barnett: But where the south end—what do you call it? You know when you get down here, you sit and try to remember things and you get kind of jumbled up—Salvation Army building is now on Thayer was originally the Mayfair Market.
Franklin: Okay. And what did they sell there?
Barnett: Well, that was the grocery store.
Franklin: Grocery store, okay. Do you remember—so you said you moved into—what was the address on Sanford?
Barnett: 1011 Sanford.
Franklin: And do you remember what kind of prefabricated house it was?
Barnett: It was three-bedroom.
Franklin: Three-bedroom prefab, okay.
Barnett: No, I think it was two-bedroom, because my sister was just a little baby then.
Franklin: Okay. And did you share a room with your sister?
Barnett: Probably with my brother.
Franklin: Oh, so how many siblings—
Barnett: Had three kids. I had an older brother. We were about five years apart.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So an older brother, you, and then a younger sister.
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: And then how long did you live at 1011 Sanford?
Barnett: I don’t really remember, but it must have been three or four years, because as soon as they got the A houses built, we had a chance to move into one. And we moved immediately to one. Because we had three kids, and a prefab’s kind of tight for three kids.
Franklin: Yeah, yeah. I live in a two-bedroom prefab. And it’s—with just my wife, and it’s pretty—
Barnett: Well you know why they’re called prefabs.
Franklin: Tell me.
Barnett: They were built by a company, brought in in two sections and then put together. They were prefabricated.
Franklin: Yeah, the prefabricated engineering company out of Portland.
Barnett: And nobody could figure out why they put that little square door in the back other than to throw the garbage out it. I don’t know—have you ever heard of Dupus Boomer?
Franklin: Yes.
Barnett: He made some cartoons about that backdoor.
Franklin: Right, and that the rooves had a tendency to fly away.
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: And they had to put—
Barnett: Well, in 1955, they did. They had two of them blow off.
Franklin: Yeah, those are great cartoons.
Barnett: Like “Pa wants a bathtub.” [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So tell me a little more about growing up in Richland. Which schools did you go to?
Barnett: Well, the first school I went was Carmichael. And that was probably a mile-and-a-half away. We walked to school. Nobody thought anything about it. There wasn’t any buses. There was a bus system in Richland, but it was run by the government. It was a little old bus that you could pick up in two places in Richland to go downtown and go to a movie and come back. But no buses hauled you to school. There was high school buses that hauled people. They picked them up in the Horse Heaven Hills on farms and brought them to Hanford—I mean to Col High—it’s Hanford now. But, no, I walked to school real regular, didn’t think about it, nobody had any panic about walking to school. Everybody did it because it’s normal.
Franklin: And do you remember—so you would have been going to—was it Carmichael—growing up right in the early Cold War. What do you remember about civil defense? Duck-and-cover, air raids.
Barnett: I don’t remember doing that.
Franklin: Really?
Barnett: I don’t know whether we did or not, but I don’t remember doing that.
Franklin: Do you remember knowing what was being made at Hanford? Did you ever have any fear—how real did the Cold War seem to you?
Barnett: Well, the Cold War affected me quite a bit because I was in eight years during the Cold War—in the Air Force.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: The security was a lot tighter. I mean, there was—you couldn’t go out to Hanford without having your security badge checked. Now you can drive clear to the Area and before you go in the Area have your badge checked.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: But then, there was a badge check when you got on the buses, the badge check, when you got out to your area, and then again they checked your badges when you left the area.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: So it was—the security was real tight.
Franklin: Mm-hmm. But what about when you were growing up, when you were a kid in school? Did you ever have any special fear or pride in what was being made at Hanford?
Barnett: Nope. It was—like I said, nobody knew what they were doing out there until they dropped the bomb. Then they found out they’d been protecting part of the atomic bomb.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: But I had no fears about it. I went down the irrigation ditch—there used to be an irrigation ditch that ran through town that started—it had two, three ponds on Wellsian Way that were the settling ponds for Richland’s water system. And we used to go there and swim in them. One of the ponds they eventually made a juvenile fishing pond. And the irrigation ditch runs from there, clear down to where the hospital is, down in front of the hospital, several ponds down through the hospital and then under—well, through the Uptown district, one of them went through the Uptown district, and one went to the Columbia River. And wasn’t until ’48 that they finally put a pump in there, because in ’48 when they built the dam—they built the dike, rather—the irrigation ditches plugged up. So they had to put up a pump station in so they could pump the water irrigation ditch up into the river. We used to fish in that. We used to go down there and slide down—slide over where the pump was, because it was all slick and slimy. We’d put on an old pair of jeans and go down there and slide into the water. I mean, that’s things kids then. Nowadays they wouldn’t even think about it. My mother told me when I could swim 25 feet, I could go in the river by myself. Mainly because you didn’t go to the river too often in the winter; you went in the summer. And there’s not a place in the Yakima, if you can swim 25 feet, you can’t get back to the shore. So I spent all my—most weekends and spare time at the Yakima River playing around.
Franklin: Wow. What about—maybe you could talk a little bit about the growth of Richland and kind of the building of some of the major hallmarks, like the Uptown and the—
Barnett: Well, the Uptown was built—the rest of it closed up, but originally the Uptown—as you come into Uptown off to the left—that was a big theater. And we used to have a big matinee. The Spudnut’s shop has always been there. I can remember going to the movie on a Saturday and the lineup for the movie—I think it was 20 cents for a movie then. But it was clear past the Spudnut shop. We used to watch the owner there making the Spudnuts while we were waiting to get into the movies.
Franklin: Has that been in its same location--
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: --in the mall?
Barnett: Spudnut’s has been there ever since it started. They originally were out there in Kennewick. If you go in there and pick up their menu, they have a little story about where they started. They started out there in the Wye.
Franklin: That’s great. And what else about it? Because Richland kind of developed out towards--
Barnett: Well, Newberry’s was on the other end of the Uptown district. That was kind of a department store type. I think the only one I saw was about 15 years ago, and that was in the Dalles, Oregon. I don’t even know if they exist anymore. The downtown district, every year we had different contests for the kids. They had marble shooting contests and bubblegum blowing contests—all kind of contests to keep the kids’ interest.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: At that time, the—what is it? The Allied Arts, or was that in the Atomic Frontier Days?
Franklin: Can you talk maybe a little bit about the Atomic Frontier—do you remember going to the parades?
Barnett: Yeah. They had a lot of the old western movie stars come to the Atomic Frontier Days.
Franklin: Like—do you remember any names in particular?
Barnett: No, I don’t. Like I say, a kid doesn’t retain names like that. He hears them and doesn’t retain them. But my dad, apparently, knew a couple of them, so he visited with them. It started out as just a celebration of Hanford and stuff. And then it worked into the Allied Arts show.
Franklin: Okay. And do you remember any particulars of those celebrations, like the parade—the floats, or—
Barnett: Well, there wasn’t any parade. There wasn’t any parade, and where Howard Amon Park is, there used to be a swimming pool. You know where it makes a turnaround? Well, there off to the right there used to be a swimming pool. And right now, they still got the old children’s swimming pool there, but then there was a regular swimming pool in the water. And in 1948 when the big flood came, it filled up full of water and they ended up breaking it up and burying it and building the Howard Prout pool. But we used to go down there and swim just about every day. And we’d go to the other end of the park and pick peaches, because it used to be a peach orchard. Because there were orchards all over town. Where Jason Lee was—the old Jason Lee—that was a cherry orchard. Where Densow is, that was a cherry orchard. Carmichael had an orchard. There was orchards all over town. Because this was an agriculture district at the time the government bought it and moved in.
Franklin: Were you in any clubs or—
Barnett: I was a boy scouts.
Franklin: --organizations? Boy Scouts?
Barnett: Yeah. We had—one that sticks in my mind the most was we had one of our young scouts drowned at the Uptown. That’s the one I mentioned. He went on an inner tube, fell in the water and drowned. That was in ’48. And actually, the water where the hospital was, the irrigation ditch you got there, that was 15-foot deep at that time.
Franklin: Wow.
Barnett: That backed up so much, they—that’s when they built what they called the America Mile, the dike. They called all the earthmovers from Hanford out to Richland to build that dike. Because when they started, the water was lapping over the edge to go into the houses. And they poured that thing in about 24 hours.
Franklin: Wow, that’s amazing.
Barnett: Now, the George Washington Way was closed to all civilian traffic, and these great big earthmovers were just going down the road, 30, 40 miles an hour.
Franklin: Wow. What other kinds of activities did you do in Boy Scouts?
Barnett: Oh, built models. Car models. You whittle them out, put the wheels on them, all that, have races with them. Went on trips. Just normal Boy Scout stuff. Got a little more sophisticated, but just the normal Boy Scout stuff then.
Franklin: Right. And so after you went to Carmichael, did you then go to Richland High?
Barnett: Col High.
Franklin: Col High?
Barnett: [LAUGHTER] It was Col High then.
Franklin: Oh.
Barnett: They changed the name because there was a Col High downstream on the Columbia that had had the name before Richland High was called Col High. So they changed it to Richland High instead of Col High.
Franklin: Oh. But was the mascot always still the—
Barnett: All the bomber.
Franklin: --bombers? Okay. So the Col High Bombers?
Barnett: Yup.
Franklin: Okay. And when did you graduate high school?
Barnett: 1957.
Franklin: And then what did you do?
Barnett: I went in the Air Force. I think about two months after I got out and I went in the Air Force. I already spent 27 months in the National Guards. I got in the National Guards when I was 16, and when I went to sign up for the Air Force, the squadron commander of the National Guards was—he got shook up because he enlisted me when I was 16. [LAUGHTER] So they changed the date on my discharge papers from the National Guards. So according to my discharge papers from the National Guards, I’m 78 right now.
Franklin: Oh.
Barnett: Those days, they did things like that, nobody thought anything about it.
Franklin: Wow, yeah.
Barnett: Because if you were warm they took you into the military then.
Franklin: Right. [LAUGHTER] And what did you—describe your time in the Air Force.
Barnett: Well, of course there was basic training. The first place I went was Westover, Massachusetts—that’s Springfield, Massachusetts. And that was a total culture shock for me, because I grew up in a comparatively small city. And Springfield then had over 100,000 people in it.
Franklin: Right, and I guess, too, at this point you would have completely grown up when Richland was a government—
Barnett: Yup.
Franklin: --still was all government space.
Barnett: Yup, they sold it while I was in the Air Force.
Franklin: Can—actually I guess maybe we can back up a little bit. What strikes you, maybe looking back on that, or—
Barnett: I watched them build the Alphabet Houses. And there wasn’t one or two people on the houses; there was five or six building these houses. And they seemed to go up overnight. One of the things that I don’t know is fact or not, but knowing the government it probably was—is they were supposed to build half basements for a coal fire furnace, a coal bin, and two tubs, and place for a washing machine. The contractors screwed up on some of them and built a full basement. And the government found out about it and made them go back in and seal half the basement with dirt. [LAUGHTER] Typical government.
Franklin: Were your—granted you were a kid at this point, but was your sense—were people happy—
Barnett: Oh yeah!
Franklin: living in a government-controlled and -owned town?
Barnett: Nobody thought anything about it. There was very little crime. Because at that time, there was only about two, three ways to get out of Richland. So there was nobody causing any big deal. And if you got in a whole bunch of trouble—you didn’t live in Richland unless you worked at Hanford. And if your kids got into too much trouble, they told the parents, you calm them down or go find another job. So it was stopped.
Franklin: Right. Did you—was Richland mostly a white community at that time? Right? Were there any other—
Barnett: Yeah, there was—one, I think there was only one black community in Richland—Norris Brown. And I think they lived in Putnam.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: I remember we had a basketball game in Sunnyside. And Sunnyside wasn’t gonna let them play on their court. And we told them, fine, we’ll just get up and leave. So we all started to get up and leave and they finally broke it and gave in and let them play on the basketball court.
Franklin: How did you know this family? Did you go to school together?
Barnett: Yeah, I went to school with them.
Franklin: Oh okay, and did you play basketball?
Barnett: No! I’m not a sports—I had my first surgery on my knee when I was about 13, so—
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Barnett: I’ve never played any sports. My sporting then was hunting and fishing.
Franklin: But you kind of heard about this story?
Barnett: Oh, yeah. We all know them. Went to basketball games. Then there was sock hops and at noon they taught dancing in the lunchrooms for kids that wanted to learn how to dance.
Franklin: So do you know what the patriarch of that family would have done at Hanford to be able to earn a place at Hanford? Because mostly from what I’ve heard, mostly African Americans had to live in Pasco.
Barnett: Yeah, because they wouldn’t let them live in Richland—I mean Kennewick.
Franklin: Yeah, in Kennewick. So how did—do you know any particulars as to how that family was able to live in Richland?
Barnett: I think it’s just that the government—that they had to be equal on them, and they just hired them and they went to work out there. I don’t know any particulars on it, but that’s basic what it was.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Barnett: They were in a government town, and there was no way that anybody could refuse—and there was nobody that complained about it.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: Again, the government controlled it. They said, if you don’t like it, goodbye.
Franklin: Right. And they would—they called the government for pretty much anything you needed on the house, right? For coal?
Barnett: Right. Lightbulbs, chains, coal. But coal was delivered once a—I don’t know whether it was once a month or once a week. But coal was automatically delivered. And like I say, if there was anything major done, you called the housing department. They came in and fixed it.
Franklin: I think sometimes for outsiders looking in, it’s kind of striking to hear about the government completely owning this town and controlling the lives of the people and having that much control on people’s freedoms and responsibility. But from the people I’ve talked to who grow up in Richland, they have very fond memories of it.
Barnett: Yeah, there was no restrictions on the normal freedoms. There was restriction on if your kids got into trouble, because, like I said, the patrol would go up to the person that had the kids that were causing the problem and said you either straighten your kids out or you go and find another job. Which, to me, made common sense. And so it was actually pretty decent.
Franklin: Did you ever get any sense from your parents that they felt, maybe, restricted, not being able to own their own home or do any of their own repairs, or did they just—
Barnett: No, not then. I think—that was just after the Depression—I think they were just happy to be able to get a home.
Franklin: Right. Interesting. Because, you know, for some people looking outside, you could look at that level of government control—because we have these big debates about the role of the government in society today, and it’s kind of interesting to hear about it.
Barnett: Well, there was no control where the government come in and said, you do this and you do that and you do this. As long as you didn’t get into trouble and you did your job, and were a normal person, there was nobody ever complained about it. I remember I was back behind where the Racquet Club is. I was hunting ground squirrels with a .22 one day. And at that time, nobody had any problems with it. And one of the Richland patrol people came and picked me up and brought me back to the patrol station. And he called my dad. My dad come in and he says, what’s wrong? He says, we caught your boy shooting .22s at such-and-such area. He said, well, is he aiming at the road? Said, no. Said, did he shoot it at anybody? Said, no. Then what the hell are you bothering me about? I mean, that’s just how it was in those times. It wasn’t any of this, oh my god, he’s got a gun. It just was normal. Because I had my first rifle when I was about—I must have been about eight years old. And we used to go out and go rabbit hunting.
Franklin: Did you ever spend much time in Kennewick or Pasco—in either of those--?
Barnett: Not really. My wife was born in Pasco.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: I never spent much time in it because I had no reason to. I mean, it wasn’t the case of I was afraid to or wary about it—just I had no reason to. All, everything I needed was in Richland or around the Richland area.
Franklin: Why did you first have to get surgery on your knee at 13?
Barnett: Well, my knee locked. I didn’t find out until about 25 years later that the doctor had actually not fixed it. Because what they found out was there was a meniscus cartilage—you know in your knee? And mine was oblong and it had broke in half. And it had slipped between the joint and it had locked my knee so I couldn’t straighten it out. So I’d have to pick it up, lay it across the other leg, and pull it and pop it back out. But that was the first—I was accident prone. I had a radical mastoid when I was about 15. By the time I got out of high school, I probably had 100 stitches in me. I mean, if it happened, I did it and got it happened to me. I was playing baseball, jumped over a fence, and landed on a guard rake with the thongs up—four thongs in one of my foot.
Franklin: Ouch.
Barnett: Weird things like that are always happening to me. One time, when I was in school, I reached up to open a door and a kid slammed it and put my hand through the window, sliced across this way. And I looked at it, bleeding, and I closed it up and went to the nurse’s office. The nurse got all panicky. She called my mom, and I could hear my mom say over the phone real loud, again?! And the nurse must’ve thought she was the hard-heartest old lady there ever was, but my mother was just used to it.
Franklin: Yeah, right.
Barnett: And I didn’t do things out of the way to have it happen, just—if it’s gonna be an odd thing, it happened.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: So I kind of, like I say, with all this mess I got with my knee now, I call it Young Stupid Male Syndrome, a lot of it. I don’t—I get frustrated with it, because I love to garden and I can’t garden anymore. But I don’t get worried or depressed about it, because it’s there and nothing I can do about it, so just live with it.
Franklin: Right. So jump back ahead now. So you said you moved to Springfield in the Air Force for basic training, and that was—
Barnett: No, I was—San Antonio for basic training, and then to Springfield.
Franklin: And that was a big culture shock.
Barnett: Oh, yeah. I mean, I drove a vehicle and drove into town to haul officers into town. And here is a town with 100,000 people and I’d never been in anything bigger than Richland, Washington. So you can imagine the shock it was, being in that kind of traffic.
Franklin: Right. And then where did you go after that?
Barnett: Well, I was there for about a year-and-a-half, two years. Then I went to Thule, Greenland.
Franklin: Interesting.
Barnett: Top of the world.
Franklin: Yeah. And what were you—was that for the—weren’t there bombers stationed—
Barnett: No, they had the fueling planes there. Yes, they had SAC planes all over the world at that time. But at Thule they had the KC-135s and the KC-97s that were fueling planes.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: So we were there to support them.
Franklin: And those were there to refuel the—
Barnett: The B-52s.
Franklin: --the B-52s that were carrying weapons in case of--
Barnett: Yup, because there was one from every base in the world in the air 24 hours a day.
Franklin: Right. And can you talk—what was that like, to be in—and was the base separated from any other communities in Greenland, or did you--
Barnett: It was a base of its own. There were no other communities besides Thule, that’s it.
Franklin: And how long were you there?
Barnett: Year.
Franklin: And what was that like?
Barnett: Well, it’s an interesting place to visit, but you don’t want to live there permanently. [LAUGHTER] Let’s put it that way. They have permafrost which is—oh, I guess about two foot down. So in the spring there are all these little beautiful tundra flowers—yellows and whites and all that. And then when they’re gone it’s just green grass and that’s it. And when they went to put a pole in the ground, they put a can—a barrel of oil in the ground, and light the oil, and then dig around that barrel. Because that’s the only way to get down past the permafrost. Because permafrost is almost like concrete.
Franklin: Yes, yeah. I’m from Alaska originally, and so I’m very familiar with permafrost. So after Greenland, where did you go?
Barnett: Went to Mountain Home Air Force Base.
Franklin: And where is that?
Barnett: Idaho, Washington.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So kind of close to--
Barnett: Yeah, out in Mountain Home. They had B-47s then at Mountain Home.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: I figured out that they actually phased out B-47s because they were built before the B-52s and they figured the B-47s weren't worth keeping around.
Franklin: And what did you do in the Air Force?
Barnett: I drove. I drove every kind of vehicle you can think of.
Franklin: Oh, really?
Barnett: Yeah. When I moved to Fairchild from Mountain Home, I was trained to tow B-52s in the back, in the hangars.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Barnett: With a five-ton Yuke. Four-wheel drive, five ton, and you had wing walkers on the outside that would guide you, and you would back this thing up, this big B-52 into a hangar.
Franklin: Wow.
Barnett: They would pull it down to a fueling station or whatever.
Franklin: Cool. And then when did you come back to Richland?
Barnett: 1965. I got out to Richland and we moved to--I can't remember the address, but it was on Marshall. We moved to a house on Marshall.
Franklin: Was it an Alphabet House, or was it a--
Barnett: Yeah, it was an Alphabet House. I remember it most because the neighbors had a monkey. And the monkey kept stealing my daughter's candy from her. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So you said--wait, so by this point you had a family?
Barnett: Yeah, I had--I adopted my oldest boy and I had two children.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Barnett: They were all born at Fairchild.
Franklin: Okay. And a wife, I presume?
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: And what did your wife do in Richland?
Barnett: She was just a mother. But we divorced in about '70. And then I remarried.
Franklin: Okay. And what did you do when you came back to Richland?
Barnett: Anything I could. I worked at O'Malley's Drug Store for a while. I worked at his house--O'Malley's house, leveled his backyard. I worked at Walter's Grape Juice, I worked at Bell Furniture, I worked at—at that time, it was originally called the Mart, at that big building right next to the Federal Building. At one time, that was a big--what would you call it? They had a cafeteria and a grocery store and all the other—kind of like Walmart.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: It was called the Mart at that time. And I worked there in the clippers that they washed the dishes with. And then I went to work for the bowling alley, Atomic Lanes, which was right there where the Jacks and Sons Tavern is. That was a community center and a bowling alley there. And I worked there for about a month, and then they went automatic. So, about that time, I was just about ready to get out—finish high school. And I don't think I had any other job after that, and I went in the Air Force.
Franklin: Oh, so--I'm sorry. When you came back to Richland, what did you do? So in 1965.
Barnett: Oh, I did everything then. You name it, I took a job. Before—I'm sorry, I got it backwards. Before I went in the Air Force, there wasn't many jobs for people in the—who were kids in Richland. And I worked the bowling alley and I worked down at a dry cleaning outfit. But when I come back to Richland, that's when I had all these other jobs. I worked all these other jobs to keep supplied for the family.
Franklin: How had Richland changed in the eight years since you had been gone?
Barnett: Well, the Uptown district had--the Newberry's had left. And there was a Safeway store right next to the theater. Right now I think it's a—I don't know, some kind of a multi shop deal. And both of the stores that were there originally are gone. They're now all antique stores.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: So it was—when it was built, it was the first big complex for going shopping in Tri-Cities.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: And after they built that, they built Highlands. And that was another big complex for shopping. So I worked everything I could, and 19--oh, what was it? [SIGH] About '67 or '68, I went to work at Hanford. I finally got on with them. Because I'd been applying at Hanford for three years. And I finally got to work with them. I won't mention how I got to work for them, because to me, it's kind of a ridiculous deal, and I don't know whether it was prejudice or not. Well, I'll go ahead.
Franklin: I was gonna say, now you've got my interest.
Barnett: I was--how I'd shop for a job, I'd go out and fill out an employment application, and I'd just distribute--go out all over town and fill out employment applications. And every week, I'd go back and check them. Well, one time, I was filling out an appointment application, and one of the guys I knew, I met him, and he said, hey, there's a new employment office over there at the new Whitaker School. And you might check it out. So I went over there and checked it out and signed up. And three days later, Hanford called me for a job. And I found out that that originally was a minority employment office.
Franklin: Oh.
Barnett: So I've always had the feeling that somebody didn't look at the records right. They didn't see the C. [LAUGHTER] Because I didn't get hired until I went to there and did an application. Because the government was required to hire a certain number of minority--
Franklin: Right. Well, but you did get hired.
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: So what did you do at Hanford?
Barnett: Well, I can say as little as possible, like everybody else. [LAUGHTER] That's a common joke. Of course, it took me about--I couldn't understand it. It took me about three months to get a security clearance. When I was in SAC, I had a Secret clearance. Both my folks worked at Hanford, they had Secret clearance. But it still took me about three months to get a security clearance. And all the time, since I've been on the Air Force, I've lived in Richland, I never could understand the government—why they wasted so much money on a security clearance for me. But when I got out there, I started as a process operator. And started at B Plant. And there was no training at that time. I mean, when you went into a radiation zone, one of the guys that was experienced took you with him. And you dressed like he did, hoping he knew what he was doing, because that's how you dressed. And that's how you learned to dress right. So I started out going into the canyon--I don't know if you knew what the canyons were—okay? We went into the canyons and I helped mixed chemicals in the chemical gallery. And that's where I think I really screwed up my knees, because I can remember—remember, I call it Young Stupid Male Syndrome--I remember throwing a hundred-pound sack of chemicals on my shoulder and going up three flights of stairs with them, rather than wait for the elevator. Young and dumb, indestructible. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Actually, maybe for those who might be watching this who might not be as familiar with some of this stuff as I am, can you describe the canyon?
Barnett: Well, the canyon was—well, like I say, the building was about 150-foot wide and about 800-foot long. And it was four stories deep and there was just one--the reason they call it canyon was because it was a gigantic canyon. It went the full length of the building, and they had huge cranes that moved different stuff so they could process the atomic waste. Because in B Plant, they process the nuclear waste. They ship it down to B Plant and we go through chemical stuff to separate the strontium and cesium from it. And that would be sent to the encapsulation plant. That was built about—oh, six years after I went to work at B Plant. They closed up after I'd been there for ten years, and I went to work for Encapsulation Building. But the canyon is an immensely big, empty storage building, really what it is. And I don't know how—or what they're gonna do with them now, because there is some radiation there that you wouldn't believe how hot it was. We took samples of radiation behind lead shields, and then they were so hot that they ended up having the crane pick up the samples and dispose of them, because we couldn't move them.
Franklin: Wow. Did you—and so when you came back, your father was no longer working at Hanford, right?
Barnett: Yeah, he was still working at Hanford.
Franklin: Oh, was he still working—so you guys worked at Hanford at the same time.
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: Oh, wow, that's really interesting. So can you tell me a little bit more about what a—describe in a little more detail the job of a process operator?
Barnett: Well, real basically, we were what you might call nuclear janitors.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: We clean up the messes that pipe fitters or millwrights or electricians made. We process all the chemical--mixed all the chemicals and processed—did all the processing of separating the strontium and cesium from the nuclear waste and ship them to tank farms. And that was basically what our main job was. We had a few major accidents. Now it'd be all over the world, about how bad it was and all that. But we just went about our business cleaning it up and went on our job. None of us got an overdose of radiation. We relied on our radiation monitors and they were good radiation monitors. If we were getting too much, they yanked us out of there real quick. So we didn't even think about it. It wasn't the case of being scared of it or anything else. It's like your hazardous wastes that they got, like coming from the hospital, where they work in an x-ray lab, they throw all the gloves and stuff and that. That's called mixed hazardous waste. Well, you could take a bath in that and not get any radiation on you. But according to what the public knew, those things are really highly radioactive boxes. And I think the biggest problem the government had is they didn't tell the people enough about what was really going on after the war was over.
Franklin: Oh. Really?
Barnett: Yeah, because there would have been less worry about things that were going on then, if they would have known. Because if you don't know anything about radiation, and you hear somebody mentions something is irradiated, you get all panicky about it. The expression for radiation out there was, you get a crap up. You get a crap up, you scrub it off and go about your business. Now, they panic and take you to town and do all that sort of stuff. There, we just scrubbed it off and went about our business.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: And I never worried about it.
Franklin: Okay. So you said you were a process separator at B Plant. And then you went to the Canyon, and what did you do--
Barnett: Well, I didn't go to the Canyon, I went to 225-B, the Encapsulation Building.
Franklin; 225-B, the Encapsulation Building.
Barnett: That's where they encapsulated the strontium and cesium.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: We all did a multitude of jobs. We worked on the cells, processing the strontium and cesium. And we worked behind the cells in mixing chemicals and we worked from when they loaded the chemicals for shipment for a long period of time when they were shipping cesium to the radiation plant for irradiating medical waste. And that ended when the guy was what they called recycling the cesium capsules too much. They get real hot. I mean, temperature-wise. And he was setting it in the water for a period of time and taking it out of water and cooling them off and stashing them back in the water. Well, one of them leaked.
Franklin: Ooh.
Barnett: And so they ended up, the whole place had to have all those capsules moved back. So that was a big fiasco. And again, it wasn't our fault. It was the guy doing the work was stupid enough to not check and see what he was doing.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: And that's usually what happens with most—any of the radiation. And if you work with radiation, it's not the guy doing the work, it's somebody that's stupid and doesn't check what he's doing, doesn't follow regulations that causes the problem.
Franklin: So did you have any other jobs at Hanford? Or what--
Barnett: I don't know, you ever heard of McCluskey?
Franklin: Yeah.
Barnett: Well, I was over there when we cleaned—for five weeks cleaning up that building.
Franklin: Really?
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: Were you there at the time of the accident--
Barnett: No, no.
Franklin: --or part of the cleanup for that?
Barnett: Afterwards. They were trying to clean up the rooms so they could go in there and get things squared away. And we spent five weeks there. And to tell you how screwball the government can be, the last week-and-a-half we were there, we finally told our supervisor, look, all of worked on this radiation for 15, 20 years. We know how to clean it up. Quit telling us what to do. Let us go in there and clean it up and we'll get it cleaned up for you in no time at all. So they took a chance. And what they did is we ragged all along the bottom of the building, and we took water fire extinguishers. Because it's americium, and americium is a powder substance, it floats real easy. But it's water soluble--it'll run down with water. So we went in there and sprayed the walls with it real heavy. Then wiped everything down, moved everything that was movable, bagged it up in plastic bags and moved it out. And inside of a week, we had it down to mask only. Before then, we were wearing three pairs of plastic and cooling air and fresh air.
Franklin: Wow.
Barnett: And we cleaned it up in a week-and-a-half because they didn't want the people that knew what they were doing doing it. And that's the biggest problem with the government: they've always got the bureaucracy up here that knows what's going on, but they never ask the poor guy that’s doing all the work what's going on. I think you've seen that numerous times. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: I think so. [LAUGHTER] Wow, that's really fascinating. So how long total did you work at Hanford?
Barnett: 30 years.
Franklin: 30 years.
Barnett: I had to take a medical retirement in '98.
Franklin: '98. So then you were there, then, kind of from the shift from production to cleanup. Right? The production and shutdown.
Barnett: No, when I left they were just getting ready to start cleaning things up.
Franklin: Okay, so can you maybe talk about the shift from production to shutdown? How did that affect your job?
Barnett: Well, I really didn't get in on any of the cleanup, because I left before they did. But I talked to a number of the guys out there that I worked with that were in the cleanup. The biggest problem they had is they put such a limit on chemicals they could use to do cleanup that they had to use things that they claim were not environmentally safe. They had to void all that--like Tide. They wouldn't even let us use Tide to wash the walls down. Now, you use Tide in washing machines. [LAUGHTER] Come on, give me a break. That's a hazardous chemical? And I guess it took them quite a while to get the thing cleaned up. Because, like I say, they didn't start cleaning it up until after I left.
Franklin: Right. So what did you do in the shutdown era? Like after '87, from '87 to '98? What was your job primarily?
Barnett: They didn't shut down--they shut B Plant down, but they didn't shut 2-and-a-quarter down. 2-and-a-quarter was still processing strontium and cesium.
Franklin: Oh, okay, so then you kept in the waste encapsulation.
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: Can you describe a little bit more the process of waste encapsulation?
Barnett: Well, strontium is not soluble--not water soluble. And strontium is. And what they had--they had a special process--I don't know exactly the process. I just know what we did. You would take a mixed chemicals with the cesium and you would dissolve it and then you would heat it up to--I think--800 degrees into a liquid. And then you had a machine we called a tilt-pour which would pour seven capsules at a time full of cesium. And then you'd take these capsules and you'd put a sensoring disc in them to make them airtight. And then you'd weld a cap onto that. That'd be welded by a machine. And most then it was computerized. Then that was decontaminated until it was clean. And then it was put into another capsule, and that capsule was also—put a lid on it, but it was soldered on—welded on. And that was moved into the pool cells. Pool cells are 13-foot deep. What you had is a special hole built into the wall with water that you would shove that capsule through. And then the guy on the other side in the pool cell would grab the capsule and pull it out. And he would go to the pool cell that he's designated to go to, and he would shove it through a hole in the wall. And somebody on the other side would grab it and pull it and then you'd put it into its spot. So it was quite a process. And the fear was--you couldn't get that capsule within five feet of the top. Because if you did, you'd get a high radiation alarm. They’d read millions of rads on those capsules. They were hot, no two ways about it. And one thing I've always wondered is why does cesium glow blue when you turn the lights out?
Franklin: Wow.
Barnett: You turn the lights out in the pool cell, and all these cesium capsules will glow blue. And I've never--I've had somebody say it's something about the speed of light and all that. But I'd like to know the real reason it does that.
Franklin: That sounds kind of strangely beautiful.
Barnett: It was. It's a blue glow all along the bottom. The strontium doesn't. Strontium is not water soluble and it doesn't glow at all. In fact, I got some strontium in me one time when I had a tape when one of the manipulators--I don't know if I didn't mention--all the work was done from the outside with the manipulators. You know what manipulators are.
Franklin: Right, yeah.
Barnett: Okay, and all the capsulation, all of the work was done with manipulators from the outside. And it was amazing what some of those guys could do. They could take a little bottle about so big with a little bitty top and they could pick up that bottle, hold it here, and took up the other--the cap with the lid and put it on it.
Franklin: Wow.
Barnett: I was never that good with it, but there some guys out there who got real expertise with that. It just takes a lot of work to learn to use those things.
Franklin: I bet.
Barnett: That's one reason my hand's tore up--my hand just didn't take it so much.
Franklin: And you said you got strontium on your hand?
Barnett: Yeah, I got--I couldn't handle manipulators good because my hand was falling apart on me. So I took all the decontamination of the manipulator. Because that's--a manipulator has to be pulled after so many--I think it's so many weeks, the Mylar coating on it starts deteriorating. So it has to be pulled, decontaminated, and new Mylar sheath put on it. And I was in there decontaminating one of the manipulators, and one of the—well, they were trying new bands that controlled the grips. And one of them broke and sliced my hand. And I got some strontium in my finger. It was about 700 counts. I wasn't too worried about it. But they took me to town and went on all government roads, documented and everything and brought me back. I couldn't work with radiation for about three months until that thing finally deteriorated--worked out of the body.
Franklin: Wow.
Barnett: But I didn't worry about it. It wasn't enough to do any harm.
Franklin: Wow, that's really--
Barnett: See, that's the difference between working with the stuff and knowing what it does, and not working with the stuff.
Franklin: Right. Right, I've heard a lot of similar things about--
Barnett: It's like chemicals. I'd rather work at a radiation plant than at a chemical plant. Because if you have good radiation monitors, you're not gonna get an overdose of radiation. But with a chemical plant, look what they have out there now. A guy gets a whiff of chemicals, they all go panic about it.
Franklin: Yeah, I see where you're--I see your point. So you said--earlier when you said you would put the cesium in the pools—cesium cans, you couldn't get them too close to something, because they'd get too hot. Sorry--can you--
Barnett: No, it wasn't too close--they're in--oh, it probably was a--well, what would you call it? It was like a cabinet with holes in it. You would drop these in there. And they're spaced out. You couldn't pull them too high.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Barnett: If you pulled them sometimes when you're getting ready to transfer them to the pool cell, they would hydroplane and come up. And if you pulled them too fast, they would come up and you'd get a high radiation alarm. You’d just drop it back down and it'd go off.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Barnett: That's what it was.
Franklin: I got--okay. I gotcha. So--
Barnett: It only takes one time, you remember not to do that anymore. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: [LAUGHTER] I bet. So even though your area—your work didn't change much when most of the plans ordered to shut down. You still probably worked with a lot of people whose jobs might have changed--
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: --during shutdown. Can you talk about that transition between process--?
Barnett: Well, I talked with some of the guys and they were talking about how much work it took to get things cleaned up. Like the area behind the pool cells, that had to be completely decontaminated. And we finally got it down to where it was just one pair and no masks. That took a lot of work. Decontaminating just takes a lot of hand-scrubbing. I mean, it's not a case of, you can put something there and pick it up and get rid of it. You got a scrub a lot of places until it's gone. It takes a lot of work. And I talked to one fella, and he said that they had all the cells that were down to clean—and what they consider clean is no radiation in them. And it is hard for me to believe, because some of those cells were really hot. But I never got a chance on the cleanup.
Franklin: How was--so when Hanford was shifting over, how was this change explained by management, or some of the--how was it conveyed, or how did the community take it?
Barnett: Management never explained anything to anybody. [LAUGHTER] I don't remember hearing the community complaining about anything, because most of the guys worked out there, and they knew what was going on. So there was no big panic about it. It wasn't the case where some guys didn't work here, they were told this was going on and got all excited because they didn’t know what was going on. Most people knew what was going on. So there was no big panic that I remember.
Franklin: Okay.
Barnett: We didn't panic with radiation, because we had good radiation monitors.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: And that makes a big difference when you're working around radiation.
Franklin: So being in waste encapsulation, how did other events--other nuclear accidents around the country or around the world, like Three Mile Island or Chernobyl, kind of affect how your job or how--
Barnett: It made us see how ridiculous--because Three Mile Island actually worked. It was [UNKNOWN] what it was built for. And the moderation they got--radiation they got was not as much as you get flying from here to Denver City. Because you get more radiation from the sun than you do from—what the people at Three Mile Island got. But they blew it up so big, because so many years the government kept radiation such a secret. And that's the reason there's so much panic whenever they say radiation. Of course, there's been some real bad accidents. That one in Japan—that was a horrible thing. But as far as Hanford goes, most of the people that worked at Hanford don't—I guess they're not working around radiation anymore; it's all chemicals. Because they're getting—they get the chemicals and to me, that's the management's problem. Because they're doing something wrong in taking care of the people. The people are doing what they're told to do. If management is telling them, hey, you got to wear this, and they're not wearing it, then that's their problem—that’s the worker's problem. But when the management doesn't do anything about it, that's their problem—that’s management's problem. And I think from what I've heard and read, most of this is a managerial problem. It's not a case that the worker is going out of his way to ignore any safety concerns.
Franklin: Right. What about the accident in Chernobyl? How did that--did that affect your job, or--
Barnett: Yeah, it affected it because they shut down N Reactor. And N Reactor, up until then, was as safe as any reactor in the country. It had so many safety pieces on it that you could darn near slam a door and make it shut down. But they shut it down because it was something like Chernobyl. And that's where the big effect was.
Franklin: How did--oh, how did security policies change over time? Did they change with the different contractors or in response to different events?
Barnett: No, the security’s main thing was basically the same. You had the security guards at like 200 East—well, they left the security guards that you couldn’t get out to Hanford without a security clearance. But that quit because they had the buses, and that stopped. And they had the security guards checking the buses and stuff as you went through. And then typical government, they started screaming about, oh, we're burning too much gas. We can't afford gas! So we'll shut the buses down. [LAUGHTER] So everybody had to drive out. But the guards at the gate checked your badges, checked your cars. If there was anything in it--you couldn’t take cameras or anything like that out there. If the guard knew you, he checked you out whether he knew you or not, because he had to make sure your wife didn't leave a camera sitting in your backseat you didn't know about.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: Which happened on occasion.
Franklin: Right, I bet. How did your job change with the different contractors coming in? Did it change much, or did you--
Barnett: Well, every contractor that came in, the engineers thought they were gonna remake the world. They would come up with some plan that they saw on a schematic and say, this is the way we want to do it. And we'd tell them point blank, it won't work. We've tried it that way. And they say, oh yes, it will! So we'd spend $50,000 in parts and stuff to put this together, and then it didn't work. And then they went around, well, why didn't it work? Well. The only one I ever saw that was a decent engineer is when he'd draw up a plan to do something, he would go to the millwrights, he would go to the operators, he'd go to the instrument techs and ask them to look at it and see if there's anything that needs done on it. And he had never had any problems. But these that come straight out of school and thought they could reinvent the world were a pain in the butt to us because they cost money and time.
Franklin: Do you remember who that good engineer was?
Barnett: He left. I don't remember who he was. But he left and went to work for a big company some place.
Franklin: Oh, okay. Do you remember President Nixon's visit in--I think it was 1970 or 1971?
Barnett: I might have. I didn't see him. I don't worry about politics.
Franklin: [LAUGHTER]
Barnett: He didn't do our place any good or any bad. Just a big political statement.
Franklin: How did the Tri-Cities change from when you came back in 1968 until today? What kind of strikes you as major changes?
Barnett: Well, there seem to be more, you might say, petty crimes. There wasn't as much as there was before--there was more than there was before, I should say. But the city maintained its equilibrium about the same, because the people have been here for 20 years, and then they sold the city to the town. There was no big change in the government. The police stayed the same. The biggest change was you had to call a painter if you wanted your house painted. And they sold the houses to the people, and that was the biggest change.
Franklin: How about, though, since—from when you came back in 1968 until today? Has there been any--has the community changed at all?
Barnett: Well, a lot of the businesses have left Richland. They moved out Columbia Center area, or up there in that area. We don't have--you got to go to Columbia Center to find a business. There's a few still there. There's Home Depot and stuff like that down there, Big Lots. But there's not as many as there used to be. And mostly antique shops or stereo shops.
Franklin: Right.
Barnett: But there's always the Spudnut. It's always been there.
Franklin: There is always the Spudnuts, yeah. They're good too. Is there anything else that I haven't asked you about that you'd like to talk about?
Barnett: Well, us kids had different ways of playing that nowadays they would just panic about it. We used to have BB gun fights. We’d put on leather jackets and extra pair of Levi's and a hat and go into these orchards like where Densow's was and we'd have BB gun fights. And you haven't really lived until you've had your butt shot by a BB. [LAUGHTER] But nowadays there'd be some big panic about it that you're gonna shoot an eye out. Well, nobody ever shot an eye out because we made sure that we didn't shoot towards the head. [LAUGHTER] When they were building the houses, that's what was amazing, how fast they put these houses up. It wasn't a week or so to get a house started--it was almost a week and they had the thing almost done. And we used to go to different houses and have clod fights. Things like that that you don't dare do nowadays.
Franklin: When you had what kind of fights?
Barnett: Clod fights. Clodded earth. We'd get behind stuff and throw clods at each other. And the snow then was two, three foot deep. Because I remember building snow forts in my yard three foot high and never have to go to the yard to get snow. So there has been a big change in the weather. And the shelterbelt, that made a big difference, because I remember when we had sandstorms--not dust storms, sandstorms. And my dad would pull his car up in front of the house to keep the sand from blasting the side of the car off--the paint. So there's been big changes. The shelterbelt was one thing the government put in that actually worked. It’s kind of surprising. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: That's great. Is there anything else? Anything else you'd like to talk about?
Barnett: Well, not really. Just that the area behind--you know, in West Richland at that time used to be Heminger City and Enterprise. They were two cities then.
Franklin: Okay, tell me, were those cities that predated the Hanford Project?
Barnett: Yeah.
Franklin: Okay, and how big were there?
Barnett: Oh, they were just little communities. It was just one run into the other. There was one called Enterprise, one was called--what did I just say?
Franklin: Something city.
Barnett: Heminger City.
Franklin: Heminger City.
Barnett: One of the elections went out for voting, they had one of the places that you went to was called Enterprise.
Franklin: And how long did those communities last after Hanford came?
Barnett: Not very long. I can remember Dad going out to the first town—first little town was Heminger City. And that was right where Cline's computer shop is, it was automobile shop there. And those were all owned by one group--one person. I think it was--Herricks was the name. And she had a little taco stand in one of the places. And OK Tire Shop had part of the one building that they sold tires and did car repair out of. So it was a slow change in West Richland. We had a feed store for a while. But Hanford went on strike and our feed store went down the tubes. They used to have what they called parking lot critter sells. People would bring all their animals, little animals that they wanted to sell in cages. And we would sell them for them and get 10% of the interest. It was a pretty good deal, because a lot of people had pet rabbits and stuff like that and they wanted to get rid of them. Usually had them at the un-boat races. You heard of the un-boat races?
Franklin: Why don't you tell me?
Barnett: The un-boat races? You ever heard of them?
Franklin: Why don't you tell me?
Barnett: Well, the un-boat race was you went up to the Horn Rapids Dam, and you put something in. It could not be a boat. It could be a bath tub, it could be inner tubes--it could be anything that you could see above that would float and it could not be called--it was called un-boat race. And there was a prize that they got down towards the bridge that crosses the Yakima there on George Washington Way. Got down about that far, there was a prize who got there first. But they ended up cutting that out because people left too much stuff—garbage alongside the road. They wouldn’t pick it up and take it with them when they were done with it. But that was a lot of fun. We used to stand up on the ridge. Always started about May. And we'd stand there and watch people come down the river on these un-boats. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: That sounds really fun. Anyone else have anything? Okay, well, Dan, thank you so much for talking to us today. I learned a lot of great stuff about Richland and waste encapsulation. I really appreciate it.
Barnett: Okay.
Laura Arata: That’s the more comforting way to look at it. [LAUGHTER] Oh, are we ready?
Man One: Yup.
Arata: Oh, okay, so we're ready to get started. If we could just start by having you say your name and then spell it for us.
Vanis Daniels: Vanis Daniels, V-A-N-I-S, D-A-N-I-E-L-S. And that’s the second.
Arata: Thank you. My name's Laura Arata. It's November 14, 2013 and we are conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So I wonder if we could just start by having you tell us a little bit about when you first arrived at Hanford, who you came with, where you came from, that initial experience.
Daniels: Oh, boy. I arrived, well, let's say I arrived in the Tri-Cities. My dad came here in '43 and worked here off and on until '51 when he moved the family here. Now, between the time he first came here in '43, he, my uncle, and cousin of ours helped pour the first mud that was poured to start the B Reactor. And then, after that, he worked here off and on until '51, when he brought the family out. And I was just a little—barely a teenager when I came here in '51. I was a sophomore in high school. I was supposed to graduate in 1954. At that time, you had to be 17-and-a-half years old in order to graduate from high school. Well, see, I was just turning 16. So then when I got ready to graduate, the vice principal came to me and he says, you can't graduate. I said, why can't I graduate? He says, you're not old enough. I said, oh? What's that got to do would graduation? He say, you're only 16. You have to be 17-and-a-half years old to graduate from high school. Well, it didn't make any sense to me, you know, if I got the grade point and all that and able to graduate. And he say, well, let me ask you a question. And I said, yes? He says, if you graduate, what are you going to do for the next year and a half? I said, I don't know. He say, you're not old enough to get a job. Nobody's going to hire you. He say, so you're just going to be whiling away your time. I said, well, I guess. He says, I'll tell you what, I'll make a deal with you. He say, you come back to school next year. He say, because you're not going to be doing anything. He say, you can come as many hours as you want to. If you can find you a little part time job or something like that, you're free to leave to go and work. And you don't have any restrictions on you, you know, as far as having to be there every day. I told him, okay. So that's what I did. But that's when I really started appreciating school. Because up until that point, I had been an A student, but where I came from--I came from Texas, by the way. I was born in a place called Terrell, Texas, but that's all I know about it. We moved to East Texas, which is a little place called Kildare, which is right out of Texarkana. I personally lived in Oklahoma during those eight or ten years that I was there, and then back to Texas and then to the Tri-Cities here.
But being from the south, I went to an all-black school, segregated. And I didn't know anything about interacting with other races. And when I came here, nobody gave you a—I wouldn't call it a crash course, but I'd say interaction—it has a name for it—But anyway, they just threw you into the school with everyone else. And you had to learn to adjust. Well, that can be kind of hard. And it can also be kind of devastating. So my grade point dropped, but not to the point where I didn't graduate. And I see some kids right now that I went to school with that--I see them every once in a while--and if they hadn't been there to sort of support me, hold me up, I might would have fallen all the way through the crack. I might would have dropped out of school altogether. But they were—let's see, one retired from Franklin County. I don't know what the other three girls did as far as work go. But for some reason, they sort of took me under their wing, and I guess boost my morale or whatever you want to call it. And I was able to transition in and go on and finish school. After I finished school, I tried for ten years, 12 years really, to get a job at Hanford. And for some reason, they didn't want to hire me. I went to Seattle, tried to get a job at Boeing. They didn't want to hire me. I have, later in life since I retired, I learned why I didn't get a job at Hanford or Boeing, as far as that go. The people that I thought would be my biggest asset became my biggest enemy as far as getting a job. Because when you're asked for references and you put people down, I asked them if I could put them down, I let them know that I was putting them down for references and all this stuff. But the things that they put down there hindered me from getting a job rather than helping me get a job. And I learned this since I retired. But needless to say, I worked construction. I finally got a job--an interview--for Battelle. Meissinger was his name that interviewed me. And I must've gone out there for an interview the better part of a dozen times. And every time I'd go, he'd tell me, well, we don't have anything right now. In June of '66, he called me for an interview and I went out. And I'm working every day, working construction, when you leave work on construction, that's when your pay stop. I had a wife and a kid by then. And I went out one evening because he told me, he said, I'll stay here until 7 o'clock. You get of work, you come out. I told him, okay. So I got off, went home, took a shower, when out, talked with him. And I think he was about to tell me that he didn't have a position, ‘til I told him, I said, let me tell you something. I said, now, if you're not going to hire me, tell me now because I can't keep making arrangements, taking off work and all that stuff, coming out here just to sit and talk with you. I need a job. He says, just a minute. I don't know who--he left the room. He went and talked with someone. When he came back, he say, when can you come to work? I don't know. Whenever you want me to. He said, can you come Thursday? I told him yes. So I went out on Thursday.
They interviewed me, gave me a permit, which was a red badge at the time, to go to work. I started as a janitor in the 3706 and 3707 building in the 300 Area. They transferred me from there to Two East and Two West. From Two East and Two West, they gave me a job in what was called Decon at the time. We did all of the glassware, all of the pigs--which is not a literal pig. It's a iron cast. You know, you can get the gallon, half gallon, or quarts. And it contains radioactive waste on the inside. The pig is just to shield the radiation. And we handled all of the hot water from the 300 Area. So I worked in there for two and a half years or so. And we took care of all the waste, did all the filter changing and everything in 300 Area. From there, I went to 100-F, to inhalation toxicology. And inhalation toxicology is just a matter of inhaling and exhaling is what it is. But I worked with the dogs, which at the time, Battelle was doing an experiment on the effect that cigarette smoke had on the human body. We worked with beagle dogs because at that time, they said that the closest thing to a human’s physique was the beagle. A grownup beagle weighs anywhere from 15 pounds to I think the heaviest one we had was probably 47 pounds--which is a wide range for a dog, but the human anatomy is also a wide range. 15-pound dog would be equivalent to 130-pound man. A 47-pound dog would be equivalent to 350-pound man. And every three months, we sacrificed a dog. And we did everything from blood, urine, feces, muscles, tissue, everything. We learned everything we could about cigarette smoke on what effect it would have on the dogs. The dogs smoked two packs of cigarettes a day. Now, we had dogs that got addicted to cigarettes. And they were just like humans, chain smoke if you allowed them to. Then you had dogs that could not stand smoke, period, and they would fight it all the way through. But you had to give them the equivalent of two packs of cigarettes a day. Okay, we had hamsters that we shammed with cigarette smoke. We also did plutonium on them to see what effect it would have on the organs, on the inside of the body. And I worked in there until I got kind of fed up with supervision at the time because we weren't getting the raises that we should as far as finances go. And when you got a family you got to take care of, $2 just don't get it. So meanwhile, I talked with supervision and they say they didn't have money for raises. But yet and still, they're turning back money every year to DOE, which was set aside for raises. They just weren't giving it out. Well, at that time, they had what they call merit raises. And I worked second shift. I very seldom saw my supervisor. And so I asked him, I say, if I very seldom see you, I must be doing a good job. Because otherwise, you should be here checking on me to see what I'm doing. I later learned that one of the guys that worked in my department had told him that he had to recheck all of my work every morning when he came in, to make sure that I was doing it right. Well, see, that wasn't his position. He's an employee like I am. The other thing is that if the supervisor had just used a little bit of common sense, he would have known the man was lying. Because when you pull samples, the minute you pull the sample, it starts to decay. Now you would have had some variation in my results and his results if he's going to run my sample the next morning to tell me that I'm not doing it right. And he's getting the same results I'm getting. Something's wrong with this picture. Well, anyway, as it turned out, I told him I couldn't work for them if that's the way there were going to do things. So I quit.
The day I left from out there, I went home and I was sitting at home. And thinking, boy, I just quit my job. I got to get me a job. I went up to my sister's house and my brother-in-law was home. And I said, what are you doing home? He say, today is Veteran's Day. And also, it used to be Election Day, the 11th of November. And he say, I'm off. And so we sat round and talked for a few minutes. He say, would you be interested in leaving Hanford and going to work someplace else? He didn't know I'd quit. [LAUGHTER] I say, why, sure. He say, I got a guy you need to go and see. He told me where it was and everything. And the next day, I went looking for it. I drove right by the office and didn't find it. I went back and when he came in from work, I said, I--he say, you passed right by it. He says, it's a little building. I says, okay. The next day I went, the guy that became my supervisor wasn't in. But the secretary knew who I was when I got there. So I didn't get to see him that day. But the next day, they told me what time to come back. I went back, I walked in the door. He say, so you're looking for a job. I say, yes, I am. He says, come on back here in my office. So we went back to his office and, meanwhile, he's talking and asking me some questions. He's saying, I know your brother-in-law real well. He say you’re a heck of a nice guy. I say, he did? You say, yeah. When we get in the door and he closed the door, he say, you got the job if you want it. But I got to go through the motion of interviewing you. I says, okay. So I worked there at the Tank Farm in Pasco, which we distributed petroleum products, fertilizers, and fire retardant for forest fires. And I worked there just two or three months shy of 16 years. I went back to Hanford after that and went to work for Westinghouse. From there, Bechtel took over. I became supervisor. I worked in every area out there, decommissioning all of the buildings, the outer buildings, the 105s, tore down the 103s, basins. You name it, we did it. Took care of all the asbestos, worked in the asbestos department of the Tank Farm. They're talking about, now, where the tanks are leaking and all that stuff. We took care of all the above ground asbestos and stuff there for them. And I worked there until I retired in '97.
Arata: What year was this that you quit your job, your first job with Battelle?
Daniels: In '71.
Arata: And so then, what year was it that you went back to work at Hanford for Westinghouse?
Daniels: '89.
Arata: Okay. Well, it sounds like you had quite an array of jobs between all those sites.
Daniels: I've done some more besides that. [LAUGHTER] I owned my own restaurant for a little while in Spokane out at Airway Heights. I went in the service. I was at my basic training in Fort Ord, California. When I finished my advanced basic, I had run into a captain. I didn't know him, but I knew his family from Pasco. And I was talking to him and I had been home on leave and I had seen his mother. And I was telling him that she was doing fine, I'd just seen her and all that stuff. And when I finished my advanced basic, he was there and he ask me, he says, I got several places you can go if you want to, he said. Which ones do you want? I could've gone to a special forces in Chicago. I didn't think I wanted to go there. It get too cold there for me. [LAUGHTER] I could've gone to Presidio in San Francisco. I don't like San Francisco. I could've gone to Germany. I didn't want to go at that time. I could've gone to Fort Lawton, or I could've gone to Fort Lewis. I chose Fort Lewis. So I went there. And I liked Fort Lewis for some reason, although we were in the field most of the time. But I'm an outdoor person anyway. We got transferred from Fort Lewis to Germany. At the same time, the Vietnam War was breaking out. They took all of our officers and sent them to Vietnam. They took all of the personnel that had six months or less left to do, they extended them a year and sent them to Vietnam. All of them that had a year or better to do went to Vietnam. I had eight months left to do, so I didn't have to go. But they sent me from Germany back to Fort Lewis. And I trained the Milwaukee National Guard because they had activated them to take the 4th Division's place when they sent them to Vietnam. And I was sent back to Fort Lewis to train the Milwaukee National Guard. Once I got them trained, I got discharged. Three weeks after I got discharged, I got drafted again. [LAUGHTER] But I didn't have to go. I didn't have to go. For some reason, they decided they didn't want me. And those were some of the jobs I've had and some of the things I've done.
Arata: Wow, there's about a million things I want to ask you about but we have to start somewhere.
Daniels: Well--
Arata: I wonder if we can talk a little bit about kind of some of your early memories when you first arrived in the Tri-Cities area. And particularly, I'm interested in what your housing situation was like that and where you lived and what the community was like at that time.
Daniels: Okay. When we first arrived in the Tri-Cities--coming from east Texas, where you got greenery all around you, you know, it's like the west side of the state of Washington--and coming here to the desert, you just sort of get a sickening feeling. [LAUGHTER] To tell you the truth. But if you were black, you lived on the east side in Pasco, where I still--well, I live northeast Pasco, now, but that's by choice. Anything west of Second and Lewis in Pasco, well, it wasn't off limits—it was off limits as far as houses go. The banks or anything would not loan blacks money to buy homes. The finance company—which, at the time, Fidelity Savings and Loans was the biggest one in the Tri-Cities--would loan you money to buy an old, raggedy car with interest rates so high. But that's beside the point. When we came, my dad tried to borrow money to buy a house. He couldn't get any. He found a house and the lady that owned the house sold it to him on a contract. And she let the bank, BV, whatever you call them, hmph. Anyway, he paid his payments to the bank. So, therefore, I guess they would be the proprietor or whatever you call them. And in the agreement was that if he was three days late with the payment, they could foreclose on it and take the house. And the house was less than $10,000 at the time. They never took it, of course. But then he would always make sure that it was paid on the date that it was supposed to, if he had to haul me out of school long enough for the bank to open to go pay it and then go on to school. But other than that, kids are kids. And kids aren't prejudiced. We all played together. We had baseball, we did
Basketball, we had BB gun wars, which I don't know why some of us didn't get our eyes shot out. But we didn't. [LAUGHTER] And, let's see, you couldn't live in Kennewick if you were black. You didn't live in Richland because that was government and you had to work for the government in order to live out there. Well, up until probably '49, I think Mr. Newborn went to work out there in '49, which was the first black as far as know that ever worked in processing at Hanford. They only thing, blacks could work construction out there and help build it, but they couldn't help operate it, which—it still baffles me to this day, but that's just the way it was. Signs of the times, I guess you would call it and ignorance on a lot of people's part, as far as that go.
Arata: So you graduated from high school, then, in Pasco.
Daniels: Mm-hmm.
Arata: Do you remember about how many students were in your high school and approximately how many of you were black versus the white students?
Daniels: Okay. There were—let’s see—three? The high school was built for 600 kids, I think, 500 or 600 kids. And the day that they opened the doors, it was already overcrowded as far as that go. And that's the Pasco High School they got there now. I was the first graduating class out of that school. There were 107 or 108 of us in the graduating class. And I think there's probably 25 or 30 of us that I know of. In fact, I just saw seven or eight of them a couple of weeks ago. One of our classmates passed away.
Arata: Do you recall any specific incidents, anything that stands out to you about your time. I'm curious, particularly about high school, because you've told us all these great stories about it--where race was an issue at Pasco High School when you were attending there.
Daniels: Yes. There were maybe, at the most, 13 black kids when I went to high school. Most of them were underclassmen. There was a couple or three upperclassmen. We had football players, basketball players and stuff like that that were starters, what you might want to say were the star of the team. When they would have homecoming, the football players got to escort the queen and her court and all that stuff. Black kids couldn't do it. They wouldn't allow it. Some of the kids have since told me and another friend of mine that passed away that whenever one of them--because I was small, so I didn't play basketball or football--but anyway, if one of them turned out for football, they tried to do everything they could to hurt them. They didn't want them on the field with them. They didn't want to play with them. If any of the black kids got any type of award or anything, it was never given to them during assemblies or anything like that. If it was white kids, they made a big to-do of it and he got it on stage, came up before the whole school and got it. Black kids, they gave it to him as he was leaving school one evening or something like that. But this is faculty doing this. This is not the kids doing stuff like this. My vice principal and my shop teacher I ran into one day, oh, years after I graduated from school. They were hunting agates. And I stopped and was talking to them. And they actually apologized to me for some of the things that went on. The vice principal told me, he says, I am so sorry. He said, there are things that went on that I dare not tell or divulge--two reasons. First of all, I had a wife and kids that I had to support. And if I told them anything that was going to advance you, then I'd be looking for a job. He say, and I am sorry, but the community as a whole, well, it's like the council now, you know. They tell you what to do and you more or less jump and do it. Or like the government, which I think we all ought to vote everybody up there out, but that's beside the point. [LAUGHTER] It's just the way it was. And then I could understand their positions, because if you've got a wife and kids that you've got to support, you got to look out for them and you in the process of whatever you're trying to do. Now there's another way that it could have been done. But at the same time, they probably did what they knew to do. And that's one thing I never fault anyone for. If you don't know how to do something or to do something, then I don't fault you for not doing it. Now my brother, which you will interview next week, is probably the first black to have a job in a department store in the Tri-Cities, or at least in Pasco, I know. Well, he'll tell you about it. I won’t try to tell you about him. [LAUGHTER]
But those are some of the things that we encountered. We walked every day from the east side of Pasco to Memorial Park, which was the only swimming pool in town within the last year. And at that time, there was probably 5,000 to 7,000 people in the whole of Pasco. They had one swimming pool. You got 80,000 to 100,000 people in Pasco now. You got one swimming pool. [LAUGHTER] Doesn't make any sense at all. But we walked over there every day to play baseball and go swimming if we wanted to go swimming. There weren't any park other than Sylvester Park and Memorial Park was the only two parks in town at the time. Later, they put the Boat Basin in down there at Pasco. But when we didn't have any place to play, other than going over there, then we started making our own baseball diamonds in vacant lots and things. And as the lots would be developed, they would—well, naturally, they'd run us out because there wasn't enough room for us to play. So one evening, we didn't have any place to play baseball and we wanted to play baseball. Two blocks from my house, where I grew up at was Kurtzman Park. Well, actually, it's a block and a half. But it was just a vacant field. And we took shovels, a bunch of my friends and me, and we went out there and we cleared all the tumbleweeds out, took the shovels and kind of levelled it off, and started playing baseball. A lady named Rebecca Heidelbar happened to come by there and see us. I don't know exactly what period of time, how long we'd been playing there. And she stopped and asked us if we had a park that we could play in. We told her no. We told her the only park was Memorial Park. She says, mm-hmm. And she talked to us for a minute. She left. Well, we later learned that she was an attorney, her husband was an attorney, her mom was an attorney, and her dad was an attorney. And that was Judge Horrigan and his wife, and then their daughter Rebecca. And then she had married an attorney. So she came back and asked us to get as many kids together as we could and she would meet with us. And she did. And she went to the courthouse, found out who the land belonged to where we were playing. She helped us to draft a letter to Mr. Kurtzman, which she found out lived in Seattle and ask him to donate enough land for us to have a baseball diamond. Well, it took him the better part of six months to answer us, but he get back to us because I suppose he had to look into the legal aspect of it. He got back to us and told us that he could not give any land to a special interest group or persons. He would donate six acres of land to the city if they named the park after him. That's how Kurtzman Park came into an existence. And there's a letter someplace that we wrote him with my name right on the top of it. But in the process of this, we got the land donated to us, the city of Pasco, as far as the city go. The only thing they did to get that park in there was they gave some used pipe that they had laying around out there at what we call the Navy Base, which is out by the airport. And the black parents went out there and broke all this pipe apart and everything, took it down to the park, actually took shovels--we took shovels--dug the trenches for the water system down there, put the pipe back together, put the water system in. The city did seed it. They did plant the trees. And they keep it up. But the Kurtzman building has a park right in the front of it that myself, my cousin, Mr. Louzel Johnson put up, free of charge, right where U-Haul is on Fourth Street and Pasco now, used to be a brick place where they made brick blocks, your cinder blocks. And they donated the blocks. We did the labor and put it up. At first, they named the park Candy Cane Park. And then we had to let them know that you can't do that. That park got to be named Kurtzman or else we don't have a place to play because that's the only way he would donate it, so that's the way we got that. Where Virgie Robinson's Elementary School is now, on Wehe and Lewis Street, used to be what we call the lizard hole because you get off and then had toad, frogs, and all that stuff down in there. And we'd we go down in there and get those frogs and stuff out of there and bust them because that's what we did. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: Just to clarify this, I just have this great mental image in my head of this group of kids running around playing baseball. Was that integrated at all? Were most of you African Americans? A little better sense of--
Daniels: Well, what we did was, like I say, we lived on what we called the East side. There was a bunch of white kids that lived over there. Right on the north side of Lewis Street was enough white kids that they had two baseball teams. We lived on the south side of Lewis Street. We had one baseball team. And we played each other every day. [LAUGHTER] Yeah. We had a lot of fun. We played each other every day. In fact, one of the kids--I haven't seen him in years--but I was catching. And he threw a ball. He threw that ball so hard it--because I was using a board for the plate--and it hit that board and hit me right there. And I later had to have a hernia operation. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: The scars of childhood.
Daniels: Oh, yeah. We had a lot of fun. We played, like I say, we did BB wars and all that stuff again. I don't know why we don't have eyes out or something, but none of us ever did. Used to dig holes, tunnels. And I know you've probably read here in later years here, where kids are digging tunnels on the beach and all that stuff and then they collapse on them and they suffocate and stuff. I don't know why that didn't happen to us either because we'd dig as far as we could underground. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: Wow, there's so many things I want to ask you about. If we could go back to your time at Hanford just a little bit. So you did have a bunch of different jobs over the broad course of time. Could you talk a little bit about sort of security, or secrecy, or safety, things like that? Did any of those things have a major impact?
Daniels: Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Now security was at a point where that certain buildings, certain areas, you couldn't go in if you didn't have the clearance to go in them. One of the things that they especially emphasized was paperwork—security or classified documents and things. And documents was classified, like secret, top secret, and they had another one. But anyway, the way you knew which one was which was the border that was around it. Like, I think secret had a blue border. Top secret had a red border around it. Now, if you went in any building, and you saw that document laying anywhere unattended, you were to report it, stay right with that document until somebody of authority came and picked that document up. It wasn't supposed to be laying around any place. Again, if you didn't have the clearance, you weren't allowed in the buildings. They didn't allow you, even if you had the clearance, unless you had business in the building, then you wasn't supposed to go and fraternize and all that stuff, like, well, like first instance, my brother. The only time I went to see him or he came to see me was if there was an emergency at home and he got the message, he came and told me or vice versa. See, you just weren't allowed to do it. You were allowed in your work area to do your work and that's it. I worked all over. So I had a Q clearance. And I had a clearance for everything but the arms room. Now in the arms room, you needed a Q, but you also needed a chip. I didn't have the chip. I worked in the arms room, but I had to be escorted to the building. And then once I got to the building, I could go all around in the building, but I couldn't come out until my escort came and got me to bring me back out of the building. So there were security, and I can remember, for instance, where that DOE--which is what we call them now--actually right where Jackson's is now, down here on George Washington Way, it was a tavern. And DOE actually put people in there to watch and talk with people that worked at Hanford, got off work, stopped in to have a beer and stuff like that, just to see if they would divulge anything that was going on out there. So it was pretty hush-hush. You couldn't go past the wire barricade unless you had business out there. Again, like I say, there's not an area or a building I don't think I haven't been in. But that was because I worked all over the place. ‘Til this day, there are still areas out there that still classified. You know, they're declassifying it and cleaning it up. And I don't know how many acres they got now, but—no, I'll take that back. The only place I never did go was up on top of Rattlesnake. And I didn't want to go up there, because I'm afraid of snakes. And my brother-in-law helped put the telescope up there. And he say when they were digging and getting ready and there was plenty rattlesnakes. I said, I'm not going up there. And so I never went. [LAUGHTER] But any area out there that you can name, if you didn't have any business in there, then it wasn't a good idea to go. I can remember working, and you would look up--and they had environmentalists--and you'd look up and you'd see one way out across the desert someplace. And what in the world are they doing? Who are they? You had to go and get your supervisor or someone, or if you was in a vehicle, you went and you challenged that person. If they didn't have a badge, then they had to go with you. You held them some kind of way until they was identified, in some way or form. You just didn't walk around out there. When the Army was out there, they would do drills and stuff. And they would come in and several times—they finally had to kind of curtail that because we had guards out there that carried weapons. And some of them almost got shot, scaling over walls and going over fences and things like this. It was an exercise, but you going the wrong direction and in the wrong place without proper identification, so they had to sort of curtail that because you don't want anybody to get hurt.
Arata: Right. I wonder, I know it's a little bit before your time working at Hanford, but JFK visited in 1963.
Daniels: Well, that was before I started out there. I helped put the railroad spur in that he was supposed to come in on because he was supposed to come in by train. We finished the spur the day before he dedicated the steam plant the next day. It was so hot until I decided I wasn't going. So I didn't go. My brother took my mom and dad out to the dedication.
Arata: Did you ever wish maybe you had gone, braved the heat?
Daniels: Yeah, now I do. But back then, I didn't. I was sick of the heat.
Arata: Sure. I guess when you think about overall and through all your different jobs, maybe you could talk a little bit about how Hanford was as a place to work overall and if there were sort of any aspects of your jobs that were more challenging or more rewarding than others? Anything that stands out?
Daniels: Probably the worst part of working out at Hanford was the fact that when you worked inside the buildings, they had what we called recirculated air. You didn't get any fresh air. So it was always just sort of ho hum. You know, I always felt kind of drowsy all the time when I worked inside. Other than that, I think everything I did out there I really enjoyed. And I enjoyed being a supervisor. Although, if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't have the job. But I had everything. All of the crafts worked for me. And that's electricians, crane operators, rigors, laborers, RCTs, the whole ball of wax. I was in charge of taking down all of the holding tanks, which, if you watch TV and you see this deal on there. This guy says he worked at Hanford for 21 years and now he's under this health care and they come out and visit him. If you watch it, you'll see three great big tanks in the back while that is on. In every area out there, they had those tanks. I took down all of those tanks in all of the areas out there and cleaned them enough that all of the metal was shipped to Japan. And that's the first time any metal, that I know of, was shipped of off the Hanford site to go anyplace except for the burial ground. But in the process of doing that, we started out doing it the way they that our RCT and everything said that we were supposed to do it. We cleared I don't know how many pounds and shipped them down here to Pasco. From Pasco, they went to Seattle and was put aboard ship. Well, before they left the Hanford area, they were surveyed to be cleaned. We shipped them down to the 1100 Area. When they left the 1100 Area, they were surveyed again. They shipped them down to Pasco. When they left Pasco to go to Seattle, they were surveyed again. When they got to Seattle, before they put them aboard ship, they were surveyed again. Got to Seattle, getting ready to put them on board ship, and they found I don't know, I'll say ten milligrams on one corner of one piece of metal. They stopped it right there. Everything that they hadn't loaded aboard ship they sent back to Kennewick. All of it. I was on my way home when it was on a Friday evening. And how they knew where I was, I have no idea, but they found me. I was in the Towne Crier down here in Richland. Guy came in. He say, I've been looking for you. I said, what do you want with me? He say, you got to go to work in the morning. I say, no, I don't. He say, yes, you do. He say, I got to have RCTs. You need to go and get ahold of Ray Jennings and get some riggers and O’Reilly, get some riggers, and crane operators, and all that stuff and we got to be out there are 8 o'clock in the morning. Says, oh. So anyway, we got it all done. I drove up out there probably at 7, 7:30 or so. We all gathered around and everything. Pretty soon, here come a guy that I've never seen before. He came in. He got out of the car, he came over, he spoke to everyone. He say, who's in charge of this project? I said, well, I guess I am. He said, well, I don't need you to guess. He say, either you or your aren't. I said, well, I'm in charge of this project. He said, come over here. He says, you haven't done anything wrong according to the RWP. He say, but we found some contamination and we can't have that. He say, so today, you are going to go step-by-step through everything that you did in order to release this metal. I told him, okay. So I call my RCTs, I get my riggers and everything. We get a panel out. And we lay it out for him. And you got to lay it out in feet, every square foot, you know, is a square. And then there's a certain amount of time that you should take to go over that square foot. And he watched us. He says, you're doing everything right if that's the way you did. I say, that's the way we did it. Well, I got the RCT head supervisor there. I got the rigger supervisor and everybody saying, well, this is the way we do it. He says, okay. He says, but how do I know—and I'll give you a for instance on what I'm talking about here—when you cut a piece of metal with a torch, you get something like the rim of this glass, where the metal actually rolls as it melts. He say, how do I know it's not contaminated underneath there? I say, well, I guess I really don't, except the instruments that we use is supposed to detect anything a quarter of an inch deep. He say, that's not good enough. He say, because some of that slag is better than a quarter of an inch. He said, have you ever heard of a Ludlum? Well, now, there's none of us out there that ever heard of a Ludlum, which is a radiation detector machine. We'd never heard of it. He says, well, that's what I want you to use. He was from Washington, DC, the Pentagon. [LAUGHTER] I said, uh-oh. But anyway, he says, I'm going back this afternoon. You will not survey or ship anymore metal off of here until I am satisfied that it's clean. I told him, okay. He went back to Washington, DC. This was like on a Wednesday. On a Monday morning, I had eight Ludlums. I'd never seen the things before. So I give them to my RCTs. And they had instruction with them. And the two kids live in Kennewick now, they read the instructions and everything, tried them out and everything. And then they became the instructors to teach other people how to use the Ludlum. Battelle has a program where that they have to certify all of the machines that are used on the Hanford site. Well, they didn't get their hands on these. So I'm working. I get a call from Battelle. And they tell me, say, Vanis, I understand you've got some machines out there that didn't come through us. I said, I don't know who they came through. But I said, they sent them to me. I said, so I got them. And I'm using them. You can't use them because they're not certified. I say, that's not what I was told. So I tell them exactly what I was told, who told me, where I got them from and everything. You got to bring them in here. I said, nope. I'm not bringing them in there. I say, I was told by the head from Washington, DC what to do. And that's what I'm going to do. Anyway, I had to go down and sit on their lap and talk with them, get them to understand that, hey, you can buck whoever you want to up there. I'm not going to do it. Well, anyway, they finally got it all squared away that they weren't going to get these machines and that I was going to use them because they had been overridden by Washington, DC. So then I got to get all that metal and everything cleared and it went to Japan. And one of things I can remember he told me before he left that evening, he say, you're doing a good job. But the thing I don't want is for one of my grandkids to get contaminated sitting up working on a computer where you have sent some contaminated metal and they made computers out of and sent it back over here. That was an interesting one. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: I can imagine. And what year would that have been?
Daniels: That would've been in '95 or '96.
Arata: Okay. Well, I wonder if we could just wrap up. Obviously, the Cold War in this time period, kind of a very conflicted legacy. Most of my students were not alive during that time. So they have sort of a limited window into it. So I wonder of you could just tell us a little bit about, in your experience, living through and working at Hanford during much of this time period of the Cold War, just maybe what changed over the course of time, if anything in terms of—like I know the NAACP eventually came to Hanford at did some good work later on. Sort of what that experience was of living through that change.
Daniels: Okay, one of the things that happened was in '68, I believe it was, about that time anyway, I was working in the 325 Building and Decon at the time. And I saw this gentleman, oh, for the better part of a week walking around. In the building, he'd always nod his head, you know, speak. I'd speak, go on about my work. Whatever he was doing, he'd go on about it too. My supervisor, one morning, told me, he stays, I need you to stay here, answer the phone. He say, take any work orders that come in. He say, and if you need to go and estimate a job, you know how to do it, go do it. I got to go to a meeting. I'll be back. I says, okay. So he went on to the meeting. And when he came back, he says, I told you something was going to happen. He say, heads are going to roll around here. I said, what are you talking about? He says, remember, they got all these blacks out here. I say, yeah. He say, 90% of them are janitors. I say, yes. He say, that guy that's been walking around in this building? I say, yes? He say, he's head of DoE. He's from Washington. And he's been observing all of the jobs, the people that are doing the jobs, the people that are in the jobs, the education that the people have, and the whole ball of wax. And he just told us that we got three weeks to start transferring some of these people into some of these jobs. He say, because you can't tell me you got that many black people out here and don't none of them have enough sense to do anything but janitorial work. He say, I know better. [LAUGHTER] So that's when they started diversifying and sending people to all different jobs and all that stuff. Because before then, most of them were janitors, I think. I got a cousin that worked in a lab, one supervisor, one operator—that was about it. Everybody else mostly were janitors. But, again, see, you're looking at an area when they start hiring blacks out there. Most of them had been here since the early '40s. They had worked construction out there and all that stuff. But none of them had ever been able to get a job in what I call production. They hired them all. They hired them as janitors. They were already elderly people. And when I say elderly, some of them may have been as young as in their 40s. But most of them only worked ten, 12 years, and they retired. They were that old. Some of them didn't want to do anything else except janitorial work.
A whole bunch of the younger people actually went on and became Teamsters and electricians and pipefitters and all that stuff. But that was the first time that a lot of the blacks had ever had a steady job in their life. And they, in the run of a year, they probably made is much or more money than they ever made in their life because they had a steady job. You got a paycheck 52 weeks to the year, with a vacation, which they had never had before. So they didn't want to branch out per se, a lot of them didn't, because I know some of the people that I worked with, many have gotten in 12 years out there and they retired. They just weren't interested in killing the world at their age. They just weren't interested in it. We first went to hot standby they call it. In other words, hot standby is when you redo everything, you rebuild everything. You get it ready to go if you need to go back into production. Then they go from what they call hot standby they downgraded it to just cold standby. When they did that, then after about six months we went in, we start draining everything. This is all the oils, all the antifreeze if you had antifreeze, whatever you had that was liquid, we start draining all this stuff out of all the equipment and everything. You started taking out all the electrical stuff. And they had spent millions and millions and millions of dollars upgrading all this stuff. You've got engines, diesel engines just in case you had a nuclear attack or something to that effect that once the electricity went off, the engines kicked off and kept the reactors running. One of those engines is longer than this building is this way, and they rebuilt them all. And the only time they started, they just started them up enough to make sure that they were working and they shut them off. We drained everything out of all those engines, and then they took them out, and when I left they were still in the buildings. I think they've since sold them to someone, but that means that you can't start it back up. If you want to, you've got to put all new stuff in.
Well, in 1943, when they built the B Reactor, when they started it, 13 months it was online. Try to build a reactor today. 40 years from now it won't be online. Because the government took and they put all of these entities into place. And it's a safety precaution as far as that go. But see they didn't put any restrictions on these people. And that's just the ecology, ERDA, all those people, they don't have any restrictions on them. And you get all of these in--if I hit you on the toe, don't holler ouch too hard--but young people are the worst in the bunch because the only thing they know is what they read in a book. And the book is just a guideline for you to use this up here, because there's no two things out there that's ever going to be the same. And DoE put young people in positions out here to tell people that have been working and doing this job for 30 and 40 years and they tell them what to do instead of coming out there asking some questions and trying to learn? Because the book don't tell you nothing. Do you cook?
Arata: I do.
Daniels: Okay. You go get a recipe, you fix the food exactly like the recipe says. It's not always good to you. But now if you are allowed to put your flair into it, then it's good, right? That's the same thing with a life. That's just the way life is. You've got to learn, and you do it by trial and error. And they don't have any business out there. I had a guy, 27 years old or roughly there, shut one of my jobs down. He did not ask the questions that he should ask. He just saw it and shut it down. You're not going to do this and you're not going to do that. Well, when you're talking to a rigger that's been rigging for 40 years, he know when he's in danger and when he's not. He didn't live that long by being stupid. Well anyway, it all comes down to not putting a barrier around where he was working. Well, he's got to be able to see the rigger down here, up here, and then he signals the crane operator. Well, if you can't see the rigger down in that hole, you can't signal the crane operator. And he shut my job down because this guy didn't have a barrier between him and the hole where he could look down in there and see the rigger. They shut it down. I had to go to a critique. And we talked about it and the rigger told him, he says, you don't have a clue what you're talking about. He said, you just shut a job down, he say, and you've got all these suits sitting up in here and making all this money and the job's still not done. But those are the things you have put up with, too.
Arata: Absolutely. Well, sir, is there anything else that I haven't asked you about, any final stories you'd like to share?
Daniels: I don't know. Maybe he got something he want to ask me. You got anything you want to ask me? I am just here. Just ask me whatever you want to ask me, and if I know, I'll tell you. If I don't, I'll say I don't know.
Arata: I guess my one sort of follow-up question, we've heard from a couple other interviewees about having some definite run-ins with the KKK. Did you ever have any experience with the KKK in the area?
Daniels: No, I never did. Now I do have a friend in Kennewick that tells me that they used to have meetings right up here on Jump-Off Joe. But no, I never ran into any. If I did, I didn't know who they were. Never had that experience, because we still might be fighting if I had. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: I think that covers all my questions. I want to thank you so much for coming and sharing your stories and experiences with us. I really appreciate it.
Daniels: My brother, he's got probably--let's see, I worked out there about 15 years all total and I think he's got 36 or 37 or 38, so he can probably tell you a lot more than me.
Arata: We'll get him next week. We're looking forward to it. Well, thank you so much, Vanis.
Daniels: Okay. You're welcome.
Douglas O’Reagan: Okay. My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral history interview with Maynard Plahuta on Thursday, I guess it’s—sorry, what is the date today?
Plahuta: 28th.
O’Reagan: Is it the 28th? Okay. April 28th, 2016. This interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. I’ll be speaking with Mr. Plahuta about his experiences working on the Hanford site and living in the Tri-Cities. To start us off, could you please pronounce and spell your name for us?
Plahuta: Yes. It’s Maynard Plahuta. Maynard is M-A-Y-N-A-R-D, and Plahuta is P-L-A-H-U-T-A.
O’Reagan: Thank you. Just to start off, could you tell us a little bit about your life before you came to the Tri-Cities?
Plahuta: Okay. Well, I was born in a little old farming community in Wisconsin—a little dairy farming community. Big population of 200 people. Then I grew up there on the farm most of the time and went on to college. Went to the University of Wisconsin, first got my undergrad work, and then later I went back and got my master’s in business administration. In between those two times, I worked for General Motors, the AC spark plug plant in Oak Ridge—not Oak Ridge, I’m sorry—Oak Park, Wisconsin, which was the Titan missile program for the Air Force, the guidance system—the gyro system. So then I went back to grad school and then joined up with the Atomic Energy Commission and was assigned out here at Richland.
O’Reagan: What attracted you to the AEC?
Plahuta: Well, I think part of it was the interest in kind of science and industry and all of that sort of thing. The people from Argonne Lab at the Chicago Operations office came to interview at the campus there. I and another fellow were invited to then go back to Argonne for a further interview, and I was one of the two that was selected to join. At the time, I didn’t know where I would be located. They asked, well, if you had a preference. We aren’t going to pick particular places, but if you had a preference, list the three sites that the Atomic Energy Commission was at that I would enjoy. So I said, well, of course, the first one was at the Argonne Lab, close by home there. And I don’t remember which I put second or third, but it was either Richland, Washington or Schenectady, New York. I ended up being in Schenectady for a while basically. But I was assigned out here at Richland, and it was interesting because he says, well, you know, this is not the western—this isn’t the Evergreen State. And I said, well, I learned that by looking up a little more information on Hanford out in the desert. So I came out here with the idea that probably these assignments would be for one year. Because we were on what they called the technical and administrative intern program. So, I was selected on that intern program, and said probably be there a year, and probably no longer, because we’ll probably assign you somewhere else. Well, I came, and I was here until ’71 and then I went back to Schenectady for four years, and came back and was here ever since.
O’Reagan: What sort of jobs were you working on then?
Plahuta: Well, initially—my graduate work was in labor relations and in personnel management and that sort of thing. At that time, they didn’t call it human resources, they called it personnel management. So I was, first year out here, probably in the personnel department for about a year. And then that’s when the whole diversification program started here in 1963 or ’64. And I was assigned to look at the unique use permit and work for a fellow by the name of Paul Holstead who had the responsibility for all the lab operations as far as the Atomic Energy Commission was concerned. That was very interesting. So that was all start of this whole arrangement with Battelle being selected to operate the Pacific Northwest Lab. Now, at that time it wasn’t called a national lab yet; it was just Pacific Northwest Lab. And they had that particular use permit, which is no longer in existence, but it was a real ideal situation. And then that led into what they called the Consolidated Lab where they could do private work as well as the government work and all of that. So I administered that contract, then, for a few years, or until I went back to Schenectady. Then I was back in personnel management in Schenectady, though—labor relations area, under Rickover’s program, and that was very interesting. Then I came back here again in ’65 and was in personnel for a while but then back at the laboratory for a while. And I worked on that for—oh, gosh, quite a few years, because I had a total of 35 years in. But most of the time was with the laboratory, but then later on, I was asked to take over the responsibilities for the DOE—at that time was already DOE—and the site infrastructure. You know, the roads, the utilities, the sewer plants, the warehouse buildings, the railroads, the—all the utilities, just like running a whole city. It was not the operations of those infrastructure; it was more the capital improvements and the projects that needed to be done. Either new roads or new utilities or whatever it might be. That was for—I don’t know—four, five, six years. That also included some of the relationship with the tribes in the cultural resource programs and that sort of activity. But then the other manager asked us, jeepers, you know, I would really like to set up something we never had here at Richland before. That was sort of a governmental relations program. So he asked if I would be willing to do that. So the last—oh, probably about the last six years of my career, I was in what they call governmental-congressional relations, dealing—almost daily basis with congressional staff. Primarily congressional staff, some within the state government as well, and the local government, particularly in those sorts of things. So I retired doing that job in ’98.
O’Reagan: Great. Let’s back up. Could you tell us about this diversification program?
Plahuta: Yeah, yeah. That was really interesting, because what the idea was—that is when General Electric decided not to continue with their contract. Up until that time, General Electric had one contract for whole site operations. So the idea was two-fold. GE was not particularly interested in continuing doing that particular work, and the community was going through—yes, they still are—the diversification and further economic development for the community. So, there was a big effort there to break up the whole big contract into—I think it was five or six different segments. It was all up for bid, and various people were bidding for it. The laboratory, though, was separated as one of those segments. That was the first one to be authorized, and Battelle came in then operations in July of ’65. But up until—during that whole year, I was kind of working on part of the bid package going out and working on that. But not extensively. But then after the bid was accepted from Battelle, and they put an operation in, it got into this matter of doing this. The diversification program itself was dependent much on what these bidders would propose to supplement the economy here in the Tri-Cities. In fact, that’s how this WSU campus—you may be aware—was part of one of the contractors’ business, that they’d build this facility. Up until that time, GE had a little building down where the bank is—the National Bank down there by the Federal Building—and that wasn’t built either yet—to service the program that they established, their educational program, which is very unique because there wasn’t really any nuclear engineering classes in universities—or very few. So they really brought tech people in and really gave them a good background and education in nuclear operations and so on. Now, I said the Federal Building wasn’t built then. It was built then. It was in the process of being built when I came out here in ’63. So that diversification was the spinoff of a lot of new types of business here in the Tri-Cities. I mean, Exxon Nuclear, which now later is now part of AREVA out here at the site, the fuel fabrication. That started out a spinoff from some of the activity there. There was just a great amount of enthusiasm at that time, because, I think, there was worries that the government will fold up and the city will kind of dry up and blow away so to speak. So that was a very interesting period. There was some very interesting discussions, very interesting foresights of what might happen. A number of those didn’t survive. There were some things—isotope development was one at that time that was a little bit ahead of its time, I think. But there was—the airport was improved by that. What’s now the Red Lion in town, but the Hanford House, it was called then, I think it was—no, Desert Inn. The Desert Inn at that time was a brand new building they put up at that time. So it was a different time, and rather unique type of activity that was going on in this community at that time.
O’Reagan: Were these discussions going on in the newspapers, or just sort of hand-shake meetings?
Plahuta: Well, they were pretty well open discussions about what they wanted. And there was quite a bit of publicity about the fact of what some of these contractors—potential contractors were offering. That was exciting for the people, because some of these were new developments. Like the whole campus here, an original building that was part of one of the contractors’ bids. And the hotels and the stockyards over in Wallula over there, that was another one. And, gee, I can’t remember all of them, but there were a number. I know the isotope development thing—the isotope separations, I could really say, was one that didn’t quite make it. But anyway, it was a period of time when people were looking forward into the future and what might come, and looking at different types of work, and not so dependent just on the government here. Now, of course, we’re still quite dependent on the government here, and that’s been—what, 30 years—oh, more than that. That was 1965, so that’s been a long, long time ago. But a lot has progressed, obviously, from that time. I remember coming here—I wasn’t married at the time. I met my wife here. But, gee, if people wanted to go shopping, they’d either go to Walla Walla or Yakima or something. You know, there was nothing here. The mall out there wasn’t developed. It was—very little here to—and about the restaurants, you’d go over to Prosser to the Red Barn or something if you wanted a good meal. You could always find a hamburger shop here or something like that, but it was quite different then. Of course, my wife grew up here. She was only five years old when her parents came from Schenectady, New York with GE. She can remember—gosh, when hardly anything was going on, and families would just get together because they were from—god, all over the country. So many of them didn’t have any family here, so they created their own families, so to speak. But, yeah, that diversification effort was a great effort. There was much success, much success. I think a lot of what was learned there has been helpful and useful for the community. And I do have to give a credit, though, to Battelle and some of the forward-thinking that they did on what their operations were, very successful. And this Consolidated Lab which most people even in this community don’t understand or recognize, but it was very unique. There was a fellow that was with GE, went over with Battelle, of course, when they took over, by the name of Wally Sale. He was their finance director. Tremendous guy. He and Sam Tomlinson and the DOE—or AEC—I call it DOE, but it was the AEC then—were both very, very instrumental in getting this unique idea established and working there, where it was a fair amount of discipline and very good audit-type processing and very excellent means of determining that everything was legitimate, so to speak. That the accounting was very precise. It was a unique situation.
O’Reagan: So you were still working with the AEC while you were working on that?
Plahuta: Yeah.
O’Reagan: Okay. So they were—even though they weren’t sort of a bidder, or in direct—
Plahuta: No, no.
O’Reagan: They were still involved—
Plahuta: Yeah, they were the organization or the entity that was accepting these bids and proposals going out and diversify the area. That was—I should also mention, that was a lot to do with some of the local community leaders here, though, too, was pushing this idea with the government that, no, we got to depend on more than just the US government to keep this economy going. So there were guys like Sam Volpentest and others—Bob Philips and other people—who were working closely with our two senators. They were actively involved. Magnusson and Jackson—Scoop Jackson and Maggie. Very, very obvious. And they both held very high level positions in the government at that time. I mean, they were—there was some thought for a while about Scoop Jackson even running for President. So they both were elevated in the structure of the politicians in the DC area. So, there was a great support there from our local state senators, particularly.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. Right. So, while we’re still in this early period—you said you’d done some research before you got here. Did it match your expectations?
Plahuta: Well, yeah. I didn’t really have a whole lot of expectations, really. I mean, I knew that eastern Washington was quite dry, but I didn’t know quite a lot about it. I can remember, I was interested in geography when I was in elementary school, even, and knowing the Plains and the desert area, generally, and the wheat-growing area here, and that sort. But not too much—very extensive. Yeah, I think I surprised the AEC people out of Argonne when I says, well, yeah, I realized it was dry and a desert. They said, well, jeepers, most people think of Washington as just being green, you know, the Evergreen State, and don’t even think about it possibly being a desert out there. And when I would talk to some of my friends back in Wisconsin as I was going out, the common words were, oh, you’re gonna be out there in the mountains and you’re gonna be out there in the greenery and all the evergreens. I say, no, no, I’m gonna be out there where the wheat grows in eastern Washington. Really? So I think that’s a misconception a lot of people in the eastern US have of Washington—eastern Washington, you know. They’re correct on the western side, but not on the eastern side. Yeah.
O’Reagan: What sort of housing did you live in when you got here?
Plahuta: Well, I roomed with a fellow by the name of Holland St. John. He was a teacher at Chief Joe Junior High here, and the tennis coach there. So I did that until I met my wife and got married, and we then lived in a B house—you know, the government B house, the famous [UNKNOWN], with the landlord on the other side—very friendly people, people originally from Tennessee, I believe they were. Just great, great folks to be with. We rented that until—because we got married in ’67—until I went back to Schenectady. And then when we came back, I bought a home here in North Richland. Now, currently live in a house that my wife basically grew up with. It was an H house. We remodeled the whole thing so it doesn’t look anything—all that was remained the same was the four outside walls and one wall inside. And we added on. Anyway, it was one of the government homes that I was originally renting an H house with this roommate. And then when we got married, I rented a B house. And the original H house was—Holland St. John was one of the fellows, and the other guy was Sherman. We had the three of us, three single guys who were using that part where they—again, the landlord was on the other side. Wonderful people. That was kind of unique, because when I first came and went looking, I thought, this A house, B house, that are for rent. I was like, oh, what’s an A, B or an H house, C house? But it didn’t take long to figure out, okay, that’s just the nomenclature that was being used for these various types of homes.
O’Reagan: Right. How did you meet your wife?
Plahuta: It was actually through church. There was group in our church—it was the Christ the King Catholic church, and it was a singles group. That’s how I met her. So we got married and we’ve had four children. They’re all grown adults now, of course. And we have seven grandkids. Six of them are girls, and finally the one that came along is a boy—the last one. But my two daughters—two of my daughters live here in town with their family. And I got a son in Seattle and another one just south of Portland in Tualatin—suburb of Portland. They all—I’m very proud of—they all went on through college. One has got a PhD, the other two of them got a master’s degree. One—and probably the one that’s doing the best, financially, has got just a master’s degree. But the three girls and a boy, and my son has got his master’s out of Purdue in engineering. My one daughter, the youngest one, has got her degree out of Gonzaga in engineering. The other one’s got her PhD in gerontology and the other’s got her master’s in early childhood development. So they’re all doing well. So I’m quite proud of them—of course, as most parents are. You know how they are, parents. They always think their kids are the greatest in the world. So anyway, that’s kind of where I came from—Wisconsin, and all the way out to the west coast and had not been really in the northwest prior to coming out here. I had been in California and some of those areas, but not in the northwest. You know, it’s an enjoyable place to live. But as a lot of people, as you know, here, some of them came for just a short time and they remain here forever. I married here. So that’s probably the same for me. Yeah.
O’Reagan: Part of what we’re trying to document is sort of the social life around the area, too.
Plahuta: Oh, yeah.
O’Reagan: Were church activities sort of a large part of your social life at that point?
Plahuta: Yeah, quite a bit. And I was also involved, though—that was before I even met my wife, Yvonne. The little town I grew up in was quite a little interesting town as far as baseball. The area back there in these little towns would have their teams, and they’d play each other. So I was most familiar with baseball, and I had played baseball as a kid. So I helped one of the fellows who, just by coincidence, was also from Wisconsin, from the Milwaukie area. And he was coaching his kids in Little League baseball. So I helped out on that. Then later on, when my kids got going in the youth soccer program and that was when youth soccer first started, I was quite active in getting it into the high schools and so on, because that was not very popular, not really—like the case of much soccer in the area. So I’m on the Hanford High School support team—what do you call it? The—hmm, I can’t think of the title now. But anyway the supporters have their support efforts to keep them going. So the social life was pretty much tied in with the church, but not exclusively. Then we—there’d be these events we’d have. We’d go over to the coast or do things together, as a group—hiking. Not as much hiking, probably, as visiting various locations and sightseeing and that sort of thing. So that was kind of pretty much—but the housing was interesting, too, because you hear these stories of people going, and when they get home from work, the earlier days, before my time, going into the wrong house because they got the wrong place. But I can understand that. I mean, it was quite unique. My wife has some interesting stories about how she grew up and talking about what was family life. Their family was way back in New York. They went back once when she was about five or—no, I think seven, she said. And she had, at that time, four sisters—I mean four siblings, and another one with her mother on the way in her pregnancy. And took all the—tied into the car and drove all the way back. Spent more time going and coming than they did back there. But it was a case where she—in the case that they got to know your neighbors well, it was friendly, it was safe, everybody—kids all played out. Where we’re living now, we’ve got just that little funny park in front of our place over by the river there. Her father was an accomplished skater, so he decided when he had an opportunity to get the house along the river here, that’s the one he wanted to take it. Not realizing that not too many winters where there’s ice on the snow. But he was the state champion in New York City on ice racing. So he’s got quite a bit of medals and stuff. So she talks about the farm—I mean, the families that would get together on holidays and whatever. It was just a different type of lifestyle. I didn’t experience that myself, but it’s interesting just hearing her talk about those things.
O’Reagan: Yeah, we’ll have to bring her in at some point. We’re trying to get as many people who sort of grew up here for that as well.
Plahuta: Yeah.
O’Reagan: Okay.
Plahuta: Yeah, she was only five years old and she came in ’47.
O’Reagan: Okay. Yeah, we’d definitely like to interview her at some point. Okay, so let’s see. You were working on the diversification stuff and then you went back to Schenectackey—Ss-
Plahuta: Schenectady.
O’Reagan: Schenectady, yes. And then you came back in—I have it written down here.
Plahuta: ’71.
O’Reagan: ’75.
Plahuta: ’75, I mean. I left in ’71. April of ’71, back in ’75.
O’Reagan: And at that point you were working on the—let’s see here—the DOE site infrastructure stuff, or was that later?
Plahuta: Well, that was much later. I was on the laboratory stuff.
O’Reagan: Okay.
Plahuta: It was shortly after. About the first year or so was more in the personnel and that area. But then when this whole diversification effort came forward. I think my master’s degree in business and all this kind of led into—and I did have quite a bit of educational experience in contract management and contract administration, too. I have that—I don’t know if that played a role or not, but it helped me, I know, in terms of—and it was a whole new type of contract relationship that this Consolidated Lab and the use permit and all that had. So it was unique and interesting just from that standpoint alone. So yeah, at that time up until ’71, it was there, and then came back, worked in the personnel area, in the Rickover program. That’s an interesting story, too, because Rickover was a unique individual, very unique. But his staff was made up of military men, contractor people, and DOE or AEC at that time. And there was no distinction. I mean, you would have a contractor person right along with you and so on. He considered it all just one. It was very unique, in terms of the contractor and working relationships. But yet, what was so familiar—you could have these working—I shouldn’t say one by one, it would be even offices or something. But yet, he was very instrumental in saying, I don’t want any social activities between you. So as much as going to the cafeteria at noon, there was a section where the AEC people sat, and another whole section where the contractor people sat. And the military guys could be with either one, but they would—the military people were associated with AEC office—the civilian people. So in that office, there was no distinction whether you were military or a civilian. But in the contactor side, of course they were all civilians.
O’Reagan: Is that an anti-corruption effort, or--?
Plahuta: Well, yeah, and I guess avoiding any kind of potential conflict of interest and friendships, so that you got pretty soon with somebody, well, I’ll do you a favor, and vice versa. Very, very, very strong on that sort of thing. But yet, he himself seemed just one team. It was just like a football team—you’re the receiver and you’re the lineman. You’ve got different jobs. It was unique, and there’s some interesting stories about Rickover, too, but I won’t get into those. But those are very interesting times.
O’Reagan: Did you ever get to know any of the contractor people?
Plahuta: Oh, yeah. You would know them on the business side. Definitely. Oh, yeah. You’d work with them every day. Some more, because if it was in your area of responsibility, certainly, you’d be working with them. But, boy, not socially. There was no—I mean, that was a voodoo if you had any social-type activities with the contractors. That was not to his liking. That makes sense, I mean, it would just avoid any possible conflict of interest and that sort of thing. It was an interesting time. But it’s kind of like a lot of people say. I went into military, I’m glad, but I’m glad I’m out. It’s kind of that sort of same analogy. But it was a great experience.
O’Reagan: What was Rickover’s title?
Plahuta: Rickover? Admiral.
O’Reagan: Admiral, okay.
Plahuta: Admiral Rickover, yeah.
O’Reagan: So what was his exact sort of authority within the—
Plahuta: He headed up the whole nuclear navy.
O’Reagan: Oh, I see.
Plahuta: He was really up there. And in fact, when—I think—which President was it? Maybe it was Kennedy—no, it wasn’t Kennedy, it was after. Anyway, when he was giving some kind of address somewhere, he recognized—I know, I’m Rickover’s boss, but really we’re all—Rickover’s my boss. And that happened with Schlesinger, too, when he was appointed the head of the Atomic Energy Commission, when he was there. He says, oh, yeah. And he made the same kind of remark. I don’t know if it was those exact words. But Rickover was a very powerful individual in terms of his authority. He was kind of all by himself, because, again, the nuclear navy was unique, and so he was a brilliant man. There was no question about it. He would pick just the top-notch-quality technical people that he could to run his program. The safety was so important to him. The wellbeing of all the military people, and the people who were in the submarines and that sort of thing. So he was really great. But he had a unique way of operations, there was no question about that. He was a strong, strong individual.
O’Reagan: So this period you were working in personnel is also, I understand, the period where you started having more women and minorities being hired on at the Hanford area.
Plahuta: That is true. There was a big emphasis—the period—and following my part of the end there, but in that timeframe of particularly on the college campuses and recruiting minorities and women, which is good. But there was extreme interest in finding qualified minorities and women. There was certainly emphasized that it was—and that’s great. I mean, I go back and think in my thesis for my master’s degree in business administration, and I made some statement then, makes me sound almost like an anti-feminist now. But I was saying we really got to get more women into the technical side, but I wasn’t thinking far enough. We really think a lot—we don’t have many women technicians and stuff. So I was—at that time—thinking, oh, gosh, that they could be technicians. And not even thinking about being engineers, you know, getting their PhD in engineering. But at least, let’s—so I started out just—it wasn’t a matter of discrimination, where I said they should be technicians, because there were no—but I said, jeepers, let’s work on that. I had much of my emphasis—because my emphasis in my PhD was the shortage of technical people in the country. That was after Sputniks and some of those things going. We really needed development, work hard and see what we can do to get the people interested in getting into the math and sciences and that area. Some people kind of looked at me, you want women to be technicians or something? Yeah, but—you know. Now, I think, boy, I’d be discriminated—I mean, not discriminated, but considered, yeah, you’re very limited in your scope. You should be much broader than that. Yeah, that was a time when the Sputniks went off and these others, and we were quite behind and Kennedy wanted to get to the moon. And that, though, when I was in, was quite a bit later than that. Not quite a bit, but somewhat later, and the emphasis on trying to get minorities and women as much as we possibly could.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. So it didn’t—how—did it shape your work on personnel at that point, I guess--?
Plahuta: Well, I don’t know if it shaped it so much, but back to my word of emphasis, to see if we really seek out qualified people. And not that they needed, necessarily, to have had extensive training, but look at their overall education experience and how well they were doing in school. In other words, that they were capable of picking up some of the technical. And whether they had that already knowledge was not quite as important as looking at what’s their basic—I don’t know, I guess I could say basic intellect—but their ability to really take on some of these things. It was not hard to find that. I mean, that doesn’t—I don’t want to imply that the women or minorities didn’t have that. They certainly did. But I think a lot of them, maybe themselves, didn’t realize that they really could do that, that there was no reason why they couldn’t.
O’Reagan: I was speaking with a reactor operator in a previous interview who had a degree, I think, in forestry or something non-sort-of-nuclear, but was still able to become a reactor operator. Was that sort of common that you saw, too, people moving into new fields to get on the Hanford site?
Plahuta: That was not unusual, no. And that was particularly true—and I noticed you talk I was being on—with Rickover’s submarine program—we would hire then people who—and that happened out here awful lot—who had gone through the nuclear navy and were nuclear operators. We had a number of those people that didn’t want to stay in the Navy, but we hired on his staff—on Rickover’s staff—in our local office there at Schenectady. Now, that was a small office. The office was not very big. It was relatively small. But we hired a number of those people, and they were good, because they—and many of them had not gone to college yet. They got out of the Navy, they went to college, and then came back. I mean, I remember recruiting two or three or four of those types. And we recruited basically around northeast area, because we were in Schenectady, in some of the schools around there. Plattsburg, up in northern—which is a civil engineering school up in norther New York, and a number of areas there where we would find students who—not a lot of them, but who had gone back after they got out of service and didn’t want to make it a career, and got their degrees. Some would be in the technical fields; some would not be, necessarily. But most that we hired had degrees in some form of engineering or science or whatever.
O’Reagan: Okay. So you were working with the nuclear navy program after you got back from Schenectady—pronouncing it again.
Plahuta: No, it was at Schenectady I did the nuclear program.
O’Reagan: Oh, I see, I see. Okay.
Plahuta: It’s at Schenectady. So I was here, then went to Schenectady for four years—not quite four years—three-and-three-quarters. And then back here again. And that’s when the diversification effort came about, when I came—no, no, no, I’ll take that back. That was back when I got back into some of the other Battelle work again, after I came back. The diversification was prior to going to Schenectady.
O’Reagan: Okay. So then were you working for Battelle or were you still working for AEC?
Plahuta: No, I always worked for the government, always. It was AEC, and then a short period of time, it was—what did we call it, even? There was a two-year period between AEC and Department of Energy. Research and Development Administration, I think. Yeah, that was what it was called—Research and Development Administration. And then it became—Congress passed it and developed the Department of Energy. And when they developed the Department of Energy, it expanded a little bit and took in, like Bonneville Power out here was part of that, and a number of activities like that. More than just atomic energy, and that’s when it got a little more involved in the laboratories and other forms of—quite a bit. Whether it be climate—today it’s climate change, or climate sciences, as it’s called, and other types of activity. More than just the nuclear itself. But there’s a misconception, when I say nuclear itself, this, as you’ve probably learned and know, that there’s all kinds of work that dealt with biology and the uptake of radioisotopes and all of that sort of thing. And we had the animal farm out here with the smoking dogs and the miniature pigs—miniature swine, and all of that activity. And then when I was administering the Battelle program and the Pacific Lab, I was also involved in a lot of interagency work. So I was—in fact, one of my responsibilities there was working with all the other agencies in the interagency agreements. And that meant that works like NASA and National Science—although they didn’t have a lot—the NRC, and EPA and others would have work done at the lab. And that would be not DOE work or AEC work, but it was their particular responsibility. But they had the capability and knowledge out here to do that. So there was a lot of that. In fact, I was involved in the whole setup of the LIGO facility out here, working with the National Science Foundation. And they had no knowledge of this—had to kind of guide them by hand as to what kind of arrangements they would have between the two agencies for them to use the Department of Energy land out here and their facility and all of that sort of thing. So from very early on, I spent somewhat—a fair amount of my time working with the National Science Foundation to getting the establishment of the LIGO facility out here. That was rather a long interesting experience, too, and all the unique things that went on doing that. So I just have this—even though I’m not a scientist or engineer by training, I have this kind of innate interest in science and engineering. That was what was so exciting about administering the lab contract, to see the whole variety of activity that goes on out there at the lab. And even, I think, the majority of the citizens of Richland and Tri-Cities do not understand, fully, the broad spectrum of knowledge and exposure to all elements of the nature of science and technology that’s available out here to the lab, and what all these experts they have in those all wide spectrum of activity.
O’Reagan: In your experience, how kid of secretive was any of this work? Was it all kind of out there? Was it kind of compartmentalized?
Plahuta: Well, there was a lot of secret-type stuff, but there wasn’t as much of that, I don’t think—now, I didn’t get involved too much in the production—in the plutonium production. Because the laboratory wasn’t so directly involved in that. That was the big load from the local office, was producing the plutonium, getting that back, and doing all of that sort of thing. The lab was supporting that, and doing that in the nuclear aspects of nuclear science, but there was a lot—an awful lot of work that was not secret. Now, they also were, though, heavily involved in many of the secret-type stuff. That relates primarily to their strong capability in detection—detecting things. I mean, you’re probably aware that the first moon rocks that came from the moon were here at the site, at the lab, to analyze those, to look at them, what was all made up of? The very first, first exposure to the moon rocks was right down here that Federal Building, anywhere in the United States that they were shown. That was quite a deal, too. So they have this tremendous capability. The labs were one of the first—this lab—the first to detect that Saddam Hussein had used chemical warfare for the Kurds back there, and that was way back time. Tremendous, and some interesting stories of how they collected some of this stuff and how they got these samples. I don’t know if we want to get into it. It was really, really interesting activities in that sort of stuff. Some of the things—it’s not classified anymore, but the people out at the lab or some of these guys would go over to Hong Kong, and they’d just brush against somebody to get a hair off of somebody that [UNKNOWN] just get a sample. Or a little dust and dirt came off their shoe, they might pick it up or something. Just the most minute quantities of things, and being able to analyze and determine. This laboratory out here was the first to decide how big the bombs are that China was dropping, to get the size of those through the air samples and all of that. There’s just this broad knowledge, or capability, I should say, in detection activities out here. It’s just amazing. And they’ve kept that up in the same way with their radioisotope program—the medical isotopes program. So much of that that many people don’t realize of all the spinoffs and benefits that have come from the knowledge that they gained. The first CD was developed out here at the lab. Much of that. I’m really interested in reading, now, Steve Ashby’s reports bimonthly in the Tri-City Herald about some of the activities going on at the lab. And I miss that. I used to get real knowledge about what they’re working on. Of course, it’s been 18 or 20 years since I’ve done that, but that was always fascinating, some of this advanced science and some of this stuff that was really—and a lot of it was development and a lot of it wasn’t. But they’d run into some dead-ends. They’d later on pick it up again, somebody would discover something else, and they’d finally go forth with it.
O’Reagan: When did it become a national lab? Do you remember?
Plahuta: God, I don’t remember the year that was. God, I should know that.
O’Reagan: I’m sure we can look it up.
Plahuta: Yeah, we can look it up.
O’Reagan: Was that while you were working?
Plahuta: Oh, yeah, yeah. It was—god, why should—because that was a big event. And we were pushing quite well at the time to try to get that done. Yeah. Golly, that just escapes me. I’ve got to—now that you mention it, I’ve got to go back and check that out and see when it was.
O’Reagan: What was involved in that?
Plahuta: Well, it was basically—I don’t want to call it a political decision, but it was basically, I think, recognizing the scope of activity that the labs were involved with. There wasn’t a great urge by the Washington, DC people or any to readily accept that title. I mean, it means a lot. So it was really a lot of background in what their involvement, and what type of work were they involved with, and what depth were they involved with and what types—and really focusing a lot on the basic science and that sort. And that’s where I think this lab was a little later than others, because this lab, up until the later times, was more of a support lab on production activities and not quite so much in basic. Now there was some basic on the real basic physics and something to deal with reactor operations. But they evolved and grew into this more basic science in a broad spectrum. I think that was one of the criteria. Now, I wasn’t involved in that decision at all. But my understanding is one of the criteria of establishing is that they got a well-established basic science capability. It’s not just specialized in one area or something. That’s where I think this lab was one of the later ones to be recognized as a national lab, because they built that up. And one of the things, too, that there wasn’t much knowledge of, because the production was such a secret thing, that that didn’t get much publicity or get papers written about it, and so on. So unfortunately the people that were working on that didn’t get the opportunity to have their findings and whatever presented to the whole world at national conferences and things like that. And that was also true, by the way, in Rickover’s program. Rickover was very cognizant—he was so afraid that the communists had this and that. So that was one of the real issue—there was basically almost the technical people at the capital laboratory, the Knolls Atomic Power Lab in Schenectady, almost unionized because they really felt that they were being shortchanged. They couldn’t give papers at technical conferences and stuff because Rickover was always afraid that you might reveal something that was highly secret about how to run a reactor and all that kind of stuff. So I think some of that same sort of information or background was kind of holding this lab back, because they just didn’t get the publicity in the scientific world, that their discoveries and their knowledge and their experiments and so on were well-known. And I think that helped, because the people in DC who were more knowledgeable of that found that to be a quality that was great for being recognized as a national lab. But a national lab, again, was the idea with broad spectrum of research. So that’s my take of it. You may talk to somebody else and they probably have a whole different presentation in terms of why or how and what was all involved. But just being on sort of the sidelines when that happened, that seemed to me to be what was the key point in helping determine. But there was some political push, no question. I mean, Maggie again, and Scoop—I think that was when they were on, and some of those. Why are you shortchanging us out there in the northwest? And we don’t have—that was the other thing, there was no national lab in the northwest. There was Livermore down in California, Los Alamos, Oak Ridge and Brookhaven. But why are you guys leaving us out in the north? And that was more form—not the science or technology, but, well, don’t treat us as second class citizens. Our lab up there is as good as yours. So there was some of that out there, too.
O’Reagan: Did it impact your work, when it changed?
Plahuta: No, I don’t think so. Well, I shouldn’t say that. One of the things that did happen in that regard—and I mentioned earlier about these interagency agreements and the capabilities of the lab—that stimulated more of that. Because I think being—once you’re recognized as a national lab, it just goes along with the credibility that might be associated with the work they’re doing. So I think that resulted in more of this interagency work with the various other government agencies. What it also did—and that was probably the most key element—is bringing in the tie with universities and so on. That was really—and locally, here, that was one of the interests of the people with the lab. They would really have liked to get more—and by the fact being recognized national lab, allowed the universities, and particularly some of the ones heavily involved in the science and engineering, would tend to favor going to a national laboratory. And the research that they were doing in cooperation with the lab itself was more significant, more meaningful to them. So I think that was probably one of the biggest benefits of becoming a national lab. Yet Battelle as an organization back in Columbus and others, they had a good reputation already of working closely with universities and so on. I mean, they were a research organization. And I think that also helped, too, because Battelle was operating this, and so the people who made these decisions realized that you have a topnotch research company—foundation there, that that’s their whole world. So I think that also helped in getting it. And certainly the lab pushed for that. There was no question about it. They wanted to be recognized as a national lab. So there was a combination of these things, I think they all kind of helped and worked together and made it happen.
O’Reagan: So when was it that your work with PNNL shifted over to the next role?
Plahuta: Oh, yeah. Well, let’s see. That was probably in more the early ‘90s. Where—yeah—because—yeah—early ‘90s is when I start going in there. So most of my career was with PNL and some of the labor relations. But early ‘90s, when I got into the infrastructure deal and doing all of that, and then later the last five years in the congressional and governmental relations activity, yeah.
O’Reagan: Could you tell us about the infrastructure work?
Plahuta: Yeah, that was quite interesting. That was frustrating. And by frustrating I mean, there was always—well, let’s not fix it until it’s broke. Oh, gosh, we used to have some—because it was still working. And particularly that was more emphasis as the role of the site here of not producing plutonium anymore—well, then do we need to keep it? Let’s see if it can limp along. Well, what it ended up, in my opinion, a lot of times, we paid a lot more by trying to fix things afterward. We didn’t really have a good preventative maintenance program. Finally got sort of a preventative maintenance, but—it was tough. Because there was always this thing—there was always a great need of doing this thing, and jeepers, we can’t use the dollars there; it’ll still work for a while. I didn’t have the responsibility for the day-to-day operations of it. That wasn’t mine. Mine was the upgrades and the capital equipment and all that. Whether we need a new fire station or whatever it may be. And jeepers, the thing was just limping along on a thread, and something would break. But then we ended up spending a whole lot more. That was somewhat frustrating. And the guys that I worked with on the contractor side had the same experience. But some managers were a little more cognizant of the need to do that than others. And safety—the way we could get things done—[PHONE CHIMES]—was safety more. Because if we could show that there was safety-related issues that went along with it, it was easier to get it appropriated or funded, rather than say, well, it’ll still go along. And that’s the way we often would get something funded, was, could show that we really don’t want to jeopardize the safety of the employees or the workers and that sort of thing. But it was not simple. It was pretty difficult. It was always kind of bucking the tide for funding.
O’Reagan: Right. That reminds me—so, you were still working at PNNL when the—
Plahuta: Well, I wasn’t at PNNL; it was DOE.
O’Reagan: Right, yeah, okay. But back during the time when sort of the reactors were shutting down and the transition to sort of amelioration and cleanup got started. Is that correct?
Plahuta: Yeah, but that most of the time was with PNNL, still. But it was in ’89, is when the real decision was made. So it was shortly after that that I got into the infrastructure and that’s where it became hard then. Because we weren’t operating with the mission anymore. Yet you knew darn well that cleanup is going to be here for a long, long time, and why not get these things going so you don’t spend twice as much starting all over new, with something when you could just really do some work at that time to keep this thing alive? This thing, being—whether it be a sewer plant or whether it be a steam plant or fire station or electro distribution system or a railroad or whatever it might be. Because, at least I could see, it was cheaper because cleanup’s gonna last for a while and you need this infrastructure whether your mission is producing the plutonium or whether it’s cleanup. Soon we got some of the people saying, yeah, you’re right. But the guys who were doing the cleanup then, too, saying, oh, god, we’ve got so much work to do, we can’t afford to do this. It’ll last another year or two. Let’s fix it next year or upgrade it next year. The evaporator out there is a good example. They finally did it. But there was things earlier they probably could have done to increase its capability and do a better job. And finally they say, yeah, I guess that’s right, we should do it now because we’ll need that thing for god knows how long yet.
O’Reagan: What was it like living in this area around ’89 when the shift happened?
Plahuta: Well, it was a surprise, I think, to a lot of people. Kind of like, oh, gosh, here we go again. That’s when this whole activity—and I wasn’t involved in, but with the B Reactor Museum Association really got its birth when they were saying, we’re shutting down the reactors and going there. But the attitude was, or the feelings was that, jeepers, it was just doomsday basically. And not fully understanding the scope of work that needed to be done in the cleanup area. It was very little attention being paid to the depth of that need at the time. I don’t think there was much knowledge—excuse me—or basically understanding of how important and significant that’s going to be. So it was a change in times, it certainly was.
O’Reagan: Do you think a lot of—or were people sort of in your area worried about their jobs? Or was that, you felt, sort of separate from the plutonium production?
Plahuta: Well, I–yeah, I wasn’t too involved in that sort of aspect. But, yes, the community had a concern. And that kind of coincides with the big problem out there that’s now Energy Northwest, but the shutdown of those new power reactors. So that kind of came together at the same time, and that was really a shock for the community. It was—you know, a lot of people would leave and say, jeepers, I got to go find something else before I don’t have a job at all.
O’Reagan: Right. So in the last couple of years before retirement, you were working on the congressional relations?
Plahuta: Yeah, yeah, about five years.
O’Reagan: Can you tell us about that work?
Plahuta: Yeah, about five years prior to retirement. Five, six—something like that. I don’t remember exactly when. That was very interesting, too, and you got another scope of how things got done. I got to a point where I was having daily discussions with particularly Patty Murray’s staff and prior to that, Doc Hasting’s staff—staff members. Not that much with the senators or the congressmen themselves, but primarily their staff, and working with them. And somewhat with the state offices, but not extensively. And then more with the local communities—the mayors—the Hanford communities group there. That was quite regularly—and the emphasis that we placed then, I’m not sure still exists, but really wanted to tie in closely to having the local government—the mayors and commissioners and so on—knowledgeable of what’s going on out here at the site. So there wouldn’t be these sudden surprises. That was the role that John Wagner at the time was interested in, and that’s when he asked me if I would be willing to—it was a new position he was establishing. He just wanted to maintain a close relationship with what’s going on at the site, and I don’t know if that’s—I shouldn’t say—I don’t know if it’s the case now, but I don’t think it’s quite the same as what John had in mind and what I did for those five, six years. So when I left, then, they kind of—when I retired, it kind of was sitting in just ebbs there—ups and downs—and it’s probably back more to that way. I really don’t know.
O’Reagan: Sure.
Plahuta: But shortly after that, too, then, I got on the Hanford Advisory Board. So I had kind of a knowledge about what was going on at the site. So I was very active in the Hanford Advisory Board for quite a few years—for like 15 years or so. But I got so much involved in the B Reactor thing that I said, gee—I didn’t feel like to just go to the meetings and not really contribute a whole lot. So I thought I’d just give up and retire at that point in time, and I found someone who I know real well who’s capable to take my place. I was representing the county most of the time—sort of an alternate representative for the City of Richland first, but then later for the county most all the time. I wanted to be sure that—and I did find someone who was very, very, well-involved and informative to take my spot there for the county commission now.
O’Reagan: So Okay. So before we move on, can you tell me—what was the Hanford Advisory Board?
Plahuta: Oh, that was established—gosh, I can’t remember exactly when, but it’s made up of about 30 different entities—representatives of those entities. It’s statewide and it includes some of the Oregon people, the tribes are on it, most of the government—city governments and county governments are represented. There’s total—like I say, about 31. They’re a formal advisory group to the Atomic Energy—Atomic Energy? I’m really going back now—to the DOE to uncover and discuss various elements of ongoing work. And you probably see quite a bit in the paper that the Hanford Advisory Board meets on a monthly basis—no, I shouldn’t say that—about every other month. But then they’ve got committees underneath of it like the Tanks Waste Committee and the River Plateau Committee—there’s five different committees. I chaired a couple of those committees a couple times, and vice chair and so on. And they provide some advice—written advice to the—and it’s—oh, I shouldn’t say it’s just DOE. There’s three parties to this. It’s the State Ecology Department, the EPA, Environmental Protection Agency, and DOE. So the three agencies are involved in this. They provide—can be anything regarding to the Vit Plant out here now, the tank vapor things—so many different activities. They write formal advice and discussion. It represents all sides, basically. Those that are pro/con, what are the proper words, or whatever you want to say. But it’s a wide representation of the general—not local community necessarily, but the state concerns. And there’s people from Seattle on that, from down in Salem, Oregon, and around the area. That’s been in existence—gosh, I don’t remember when—it was probably around ’90 or something like that, ’91. It’s been—maybe not that long—but it’s been quite active for quite some time.
O’Reagan: That reminds me—I meant to ask, when you were working on the site infrastructure, you mentioned some work with the tribes and cultural resources. Can you tell us about that?
Plahuta: Yeah. I personally didn’t get too directly involved. I had a person working for me by the name of Charles Pasternak—he has since died. He was very, very knowledgeable. He was an archaeology-type thing, too, but he was a forensic expert-type thing, and was very, very closely working with the tribes. Well-respected by the tribes. He was invited into some of those longhouse ceremonies and that sort of thing. So he worked on that. He was the one that was the primary person for me. I got into a lot of the discussions and so on, but for the day-to-day activities, he was really tops. And would work with the SHPO office—the State Historical office in Olympia on stuff—on these writings and stuff. So it was interesting. But I didn’t get daily involvement there. I had enough in my other hands to take care of. But he was just ace number one on doing that. So I got familiar with the process and the operations and what the issues were and that sort of thing. But that was informative for me. He was sort of a mentor to me, to be honest, though, in that respect. Yeah.
O’Reagan: Do you know sort of how—one of the things I’m also curious about is the development of cultural resources and local efforts to preserve culture, preserve memory. On the DOE side, I know, today that’s done through a contract with the Mission Support Alliance. Do you happen to know when that sort of contracting began, or was DOE sort of also contracting while also working on it?
Plahuta: No, DOE was working primarily at the laboratory out here at Battelle. That’s where—and that’s partly how I got into it, I think, although I wasn’t administering to Battelle Lab at that time. But that all function was under the laboratory. It was after I left that Mission Support Alliance came into existence here. And then they took over a lot of that support type activity. But, no, the laboratory, and Jim Shatters was involved, Mona Wright was involved out there for the lab. Paul Harvey was—not Paul Harvey—Dave Harvey was involved in some of that out there, along with the history. And Michele Gerber on the historic—the Hanford history type stuff. So that was all with Battelle. And then that moved it, I think, when Mission Support Alliance—and that was after, basically, after I left. So that was there. But, no, there was quite an interest—not as much as there is today—again, that’s a fault, I can say, of us who were in the department at that time. We really weren’t on board extensively on the history protection stuff. Although the contractor, Battelle out there, and others were doing that. But I don’t think DOE was following. And then that’s when I discovered that, gosh, we really have a responsibility here. And that’s when I hired this Charles Pasternak who came over from GSA and had been doing that sort of thing down in Phoenix, Arizona. So I said, we really need—so I hired him. And as I say, he was—that was his livelihood so to speak. And that’s when I think we began then to pick up on that sort of thing. I had an extreme interest in doing it and I got to know Mona Wright real well at Battelle. Tom Marceau was involved in that out there. And Tom can give you the whole history there with the laboratory at that time.
O’Reagan: What sort of day-to-day work—was it Charles Pasternak?
Plahuta: Pasternak, yeah.
O’Reagan: What sort of work was he doing? Do you know?
Plahuta: Well, it was this whole cultural resources area. He was, as I say, an archaeology type and that was his training. So he did all of the work a lot with SHPO up there when we got into some of these areas where they needed—we needed to know the 106 process, and all of that sort of thing. So Charles was our main person to follow that. But I had the interest, also, of John Wagner, the manager, even though I wasn’t playing that congressional role at that time. Because he, too, I think, recognized that we needed to do a little bit more there. And in fact—I don’t know if you’re familiar—but he’s one of Cindy Kelly, who’s with the Atomic Heritage Foundation---he’s one of the board members there. He had really an extreme interest in preserving the history. As much as he tried, he couldn’t get headquarters people—they always told him, John, you go back and tell them we’re not in the museum business. And that’s what the people here would be hearing all the time. But John himself was really interested in doing all that. I sat in meetings with him at headquarters where he’d really push hard. And they’d push back, that’s not our—it was their responsibility, but they’d just, yeah, okay, but we don’t want to spend a lot of time on that. So that was—but locally, I think we did well. I think we did very well at pushing that along and I got to give contract—credit to people like Tom and Mona and others out here on the contractor site who even pushed us a little bit sometimes. Which was good. That’s necessary.
O’Reagan: Could you sort of sketch out for us your idea of sort of the history of efforts to commemorate the site or the work that was done on Hanford? In terms of, up through the B Reactor Museum Association--?
Plahuta: Yeah. Well, my interest was, again, as I learned more about it, was let’s preserve this history of this site, because it’s very unique. It’s really unique. And I had to avoid sort of a conflict of interest of joining BRMA while I was an employee of the department. So I was interested, though, in knowing what they were doing and I was in agreement with them and was very supportive when I could be in some of their activities. But shortly after I retired, then—not immediately, but not too long after, I did join as a member of the B Reactor Museum. That was in—well, quite a while later, because it in 2005, so it was quite a while later that I actually joined them. That was—the more I learned and found out about the uniqueness of the B Reactor and its history and its knowledge and its importance, I really, really got heavily involved. And that’s eventually, here, like a year and a half ago—I finally got off the Hanford Advisory Board because I was spending so much time—more time on that—and not feeling I was really contributing a whole lot. I mean, I’d make my comments and so on at the general meetings, but with regard to drafting formal advice and all that, which I was quite active in earlier, then jeepers, get somebody else who has the time and so on, and I’d devote more time to the B Reactor Museum Association. But, again, I’m, as well as my interest in science and technology, although not being trained in that area, I’m sort of a history buff. As a kid on, I could list the order of the Presidents of the United States, I remember. Zing, zing, zing. I can’t do it any longer. I’d have to stop and think about it, get it mixed up a little bit. But history was another area that I was kind of interested in. I like to read a lot of history books and that sort of thing. I think that was stimulated by my second year in college in a class I took from a history professor who was just interesting. And what I found so interesting about him is he said you can read the book, but let me give you some stuff, some of the trivia-type stuff that he knew about some of the personalities and some of the things that he had learned through his research and understanding about the true natures of some of these people and what unique features or attributes they had. That, I think, stimulated my interests even more. But it was in existence prior to that as well, but it just enhanced it a bit. Yeah.
O’Reagan: What sort of stuff has BRMA worked on in the time you’ve been with them?
Plahuta: Oh, gosh. We have done extensive amount of work on some of the modeling to bring up some of the models that we have out there that can describe and portray better the actual activities in the instruments and the equipment in the area there itself. We did that. And of course our big effort was to make it a national park. That’s where most of our time, and that’s where I really got involved with and again working with the other two sites, Oak Ridge and Los Alamos with Cindy Kelly back in American—I mean the Atomic Heritage Foundation. We’d have monthly phone calls on proposing various kind of language that we’d like to see in the act and working with the Congress. My experience working with congressional staffers helped a little bit there, I think, but so did Cindy, who—and I first knew Cindy, basically when she was in DOE—worked for DOE in the headquarters in the cultural resource area and all of that area. So that’s how I got to know Cindy. And then later on, we kind of met again, then, when we were working on the B Reactor. So the biggest contribution, I think, was the effort from the very beginning. B Reactor was—not B Reactor, but the BRMA association—B Reactor Museum Association—was established formally in ’91, but was actually in ’90 or so when it began to formally—and how that all happened was that there was in existence here at the time—we called it the Tri-Cities or maybe they were Richland—I don’t know—Technical Society. And that was made up of all the various tech—whether it be electrical engineers, or civil engineers, the chemical engineers, nuclear engineers, the health physicists and so on. They had this net group where there was things in common and commonality. When the announcement was made that they were going to get out of the production business and was going to start cocooning the reactors, the guy says, god, we got to preserve B. The history that goes with it. And I wasn’t part of that, then. But they organized a committee then to discuss further. And that’s when they decided to establish this organization, the B Reactor Museum Association, with the sole purpose to preserve for future generations the history and preserve the facility itself for public access and—for preservation and public access. Well, our mission is basically accomplished by getting it into the National Park. That was really keen. And we still have interests; we want to go along and develop the park and do all of those additional types of things and perhaps even taking on efforts to preserve a bit of the history of T Plant as well. Because that is identified in the park, and of course the pre-Manhattan Project history there with the farms and that sort of thing. But that’s been the key emphasis all along, was to preserve and make it public access to B Reactor. So there was a lot of work and working with the Department of Energy and others to clean it up and get it in shape where you could have these tours. I think it was 2009 or something when they started the tours—the more public tours. But I was involved earlier in that. There was still tours, but the tours were maybe for special groups or activities or maybe a college chemistry class or physics class or something would be coming to see it. Or some of the elected officials or could be any special tours, I think. And then it got gradually working into recognizing that there would be—in fact, when I left in ’98, there was just a memorandum of agreement type between the BRMA organization and Westinghouse the contractor and DOE, what the roles and responsibilities would be. At that time, BRMA would be willing to provide docents—volunteer docents at the time, and do that sort of thing for these various tours. So I was sort of a tour coordinator then, to find out what audiences—there would be a difference between someone who was real knowledgeable about the reactor, and others who knew nothing about it—want to know what the audience would be so we’d pick the right type of tour guide and a person who was more familiar with it, who were comfortable with those kind of tours. So there got to be a fair number of those. But then it formally established, then, when the DOE started saying we will offer these public tours. In 2009 is when it really blossomed into much more greater things, when they announced the public tours and so on. These others were more tours where people would request and ask for them, we’d try to fit them in. And there were fair number—it got to be a fair number of those, and I think that’s what convinced DOE that we need to do something, maybe more publicly. And more recognition of its responsibility in Historic Preservation Act—you know, the Department’s responsibility there. So that’s what we did. But our efforts were then to, as I say, get the thing cleaned up, get it presented well, and have some of these displays and some of the models and someone that works close with Cindy Kelly at the Atomic Heritage Foundation who had this interest and this whole establishment she has, that foundation to preserve many of the history aspects of the Atomic Energy Commission and Department of Energy and its role in the Manhattan Project. So that was kind of where our focus was, was the preservation and public access and the models that help educate. And also, and we’re pushing more on that now, is educating students and so on. And we’re holding more and more tours for students, all the way down to the fourth grade, but particularly interested in high school and college students that want to learn more about that. That’s where we’re focusing more now, on interpretation and education and emphasis more on the T Plant. BRMA does the B Reactor Museum, doesn’t necessarily relate to the T Plant, but still, that all was part of the Manhattan Project. So our focus is more on the Manhattan Project itself and all of its elements. Which, T Plant is included—the first separations plant. Again, amazing plant and amazing work that’s been done there to get it initiated and started and working properly right off the bat, working. So that’s kind of the background there on my involvement. It’s been—the last three, four, five years has been heavily involved in primarily the effort on the Manhattan historic—the Manhattan Project Historical Park, to get it established, along with the other two sites. Some of the others in DOE, as well, the Dayton Project had decided not to really join pushing on that, but they—and we had meetings yesterday again with some of the Parks people to have things—a commonality—basic common understanding of the whole project and kind of presented the same way at all three sites. But then each site taking on its own specific role, ours being the specific—the development of the plutonium and B Reactor. Los Alamos, more like the weapons development and that sort of thing. Oak Ridge is supplying the enriched uranium and those aspects. They all have a more defined role in the broader picture of the Manhattan Project.
O’Reagan: Right. Did you ever get any sort of security—when you were making these models, I know there was a lot of sensitivity about export control and classification and all that, especially with models. Did you ever get any sort of push back on that?
Plahuta: Not on the models. But what we did do, and that was a surprise, even to the local DOE, I guess they knew about it, but they should have—the reactor graphite that was left over, we claimed that. And thanks for thinking of Gene Woodruff, one of our members who’s a graphite expert, and I mean Gene can go and say, oh, that was made at Union Carbide. Scratch this one—that was made somewhere else. That guy. And I remember working with DOE in the laboratory—Gene was one of the top experts in the world. Again, we’ve got experts here—people don’t recognize—of the world. When there would be these international meetings or [UNKNOWN] Gene Woodruff was a guy to go all over the world talking about the qualities and the purities of graphite and how it’s made and all of that sort of stuff. He’s just top-notch. So anyway, Gene and a guy out at the lab—gosh, I forget his name right now, right off the bat—worked with our people in DOE headquarters’ national security to get us the—or to give us the excess graphite was there with the restrictions that it should be used for souvenirs and that we’re not to resell it. Of course, now there’s not quite the problem, but we didn’t want the Iranians or others to see how this graphite was made and all the purity and all that kind of stuff. Although I don’t understand, because you could still probably decide that if you had a souvenir made out of a piece of that graphite, anyway. But anyway that was—they just didn’t want a big block of this stuff given—sold or anything to someone. So we said, ah, well, we won’t—chop it up or use it in pieces or whatever. So we made that graphite model and that was done going through the whole national security system that said it was okay for us to have that, rather than dump it out here at ERDF—out in the disposal facility. So we got all of the remaining what we call old reactor—that’s the B, D and F—that’s the same type of graphite that was in those original three reactors. We got that as well as some processing tubes and we’re in the process of determining how we make souvenirs for the tours that come through in the park. And reminder, we already have what we call—we have these boron balls, too, that are used in the process to help scram a reactor if you need to. We’ve got those, and we’ve got the process tubes. So we also sell a little vial of these boron balls, and we collected the dust that we did when we made our graphite model and putting that into little vials. So it’s rather unique to this site. We’re looking at other ways to use some of these and what kind of doodads or gadgets can we make for souvenirs. Because we find that working with the Parks people is—oh, yeah, people, there’s something unique about the site, they’d like to take a souvenir back. So that may be some of our support, maybe, to keep continuing and give us our source of income there that—we’re not a great achiever of gathering a whole lot of money, but it does—and we work more on these models and stuff, working with Cindy Kelly and others on grants and that sort of thing to get our money to build these—make these various videos that we’ve made and these vignettes that goes along with when you’re visiting out there and that sort of thing. So that’s gonna be kind of emphasizing with the Parks people how we can best do this and how we can get that accomplished.
O’Reagan: Can you tell me about coordinating with the other sites?
Plahuta: Yeah. That’s—we’ve had several meetings with the other sites. There’s, again, another entity. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the ECA, the Energy Communities Alliance? That was established by the former city manager here, Joe King, who established that. And that—I’ll just talk a minute what that is. That’s made up of the sites where DOE has locations: Savannah River, Oak Ridge, Brookhaven—you know, all nine sites or so, that would go forth in more of a lobbying effort to DOE headquarters on funding and what the needs and the issues and problems are there, as far as the local communities. And many of these were in common. I mean, there were particular areas might be unique to one site or the other, but the others would all support that. But then also there’s things in common that they really wanted to get DOE to recognize that they got to pay attention to. So that was established quite some time ago. The other communities, then, kind of had a basis on which to start on this national park. And particularly Oak Ridge and Los Alamos. So we would get—the three of us would often have—and Cindy Kelly with Atomic Heritage Foundation would kind of coordinate these—it was almost on a monthly basis—telephone conferences. We’d be talking where we are and how we’re going and what we need to do. And so that was very helpful and it was a cooperative effort. It wasn’t a, well, we want that and you can’t have that. It was a system that we all want to work together. And we met last July again down in Los Alamos for a meeting on those three sites plus one or two of the other Energy Community Alliance sat in on some of that. We’re meeting again in August in Denver. This time at Denver because that’s kind of a convenient among the three sites, and it’s also where the interim superintendent of the National Park’s located, so that she can be here. That’s Tracey Adkins and she was here in fact yesterday. One of our local what we call our parks committee that’s not—made up basically the elected officials of the community here, the four mayors, the county commissioners of Benton, Grant and Franklin County, and then there’s, besides elected officials, there’s the Visit Tri-Cities, TRIDEC and BRMA is on that. We’re more of an advisory group than we are to the mayors. But the committee is an administrative committee and that’s where I and John Fox and BRMA and Visit Tri-Cities and others sit on for short-term. I guess I call that the working group who gets the work done and so on. And then we get with the mayors and so on. It’s kind of either up or down, you know, that sort of thing. But anyway, the working with the other communities has been a very cooperative effort, and we meet now on phone calls once in a while—not quite so frequently, though, not once the legislation has passed. But we meet like once a year or so, just—and now with the Parks, too. It was formerly just with DOE, but with the Parks people actually present and with the interim superintendent of the Manhattan Project National Historical Park. So it’s a good relationship and I think it helps in the overall park and the Parks people are interested in working with the communities, too. They’re very—I find working with the Parks service very, very interesting and informative and they’re people who are very willing to listen and learn and likewise we try to exchange information and we learn what they’re process is and I think it’s been a very, very good relationship. And I want to give credit to Colleen French here at the local office has been extremely supportive of BRMA and all of the activities and go out of her way to have—like when we had the November 12th event out here raising the National Parks flag at the site and working with them. She’s been just tremendously helpful in getting that accomplished.
O’Reagan: What’s my question here? Could you give me an idea, if you know, of the sort of size of BRMA over time?
Plahuta: It’s small. That’s our real problem. It’s like most organizations, I find, you don’t find a lot of younger people joining. And that’s a—I think that’s kind of typical of our whole society now. Today, most of the mothers and fathers are both working, they’ve got the kids in school, they’re in soccer, they’re in baseball, they’re in football. Their time is very limited. And I find that in a number of organizations I’m in. So our group is very small. It’s—we only have about a total of about 70-some members. But our active members are probably 20 or something like that. And we have a fair number of people who are not in this community. They’re people who lived here or worked here before. One of the assistant general managers for DOE is still a member, living down the—not Los Alamos—but Los Alamos area and also a couple of them down in the WIPP site down in New Mexico. We find ourselves, I think—and we’re looking right now—what should the mission of BRMA be? And we’ve kind of—a couple of us got together the other day on—had a bottle of beer and sat in Hank Kosmata’s backyard on his patio and just kind of brainstormed a bit. I think we’ll say, for the next three, four, five years, however long, until the park is fully established, we’ll be working extensively with them on assisting in the interpretation activities. We want to emphasize more the education and working with particularly the high school, college kids but also the younger ages. We want to do more emphasis on the T Plant, which is a very key element in this whole process of plutonium and getting the plutonium that was needed for the weapons program. So those—kind of those three are the main activities we want to focus in and decide whether we morph into some other organization. Because the Parks are really interested in developing at each of these sites what they call Friends of the Park, and that’s a common thing among all national parks. It’s sort of a group that supports that local park and assists the Parks Department. And the Parks Department is not a wealthy department. They are very limited funding to all parks. They’ve got extreme backlog on the maintenance of all their activities. So they rely heavily on volunteer work, they rely heavily on these funding process of Friends of the Park, and they have a formal structure in developing it and authorizing and so on, because they, again, want to be sure that there’s precise accountability and all of that sort of thing on that if they’re gonna be associated with them. So we’re working this local community on this parks committee and so on of hoping we can establish that soon. Now, there’s a lot of competition so to speak there, because we’ve got a lot of other things in the community we really want to support. We want to support the REACH organization—they’re looking for funding. We’ve got the aquatic center, you’ve got the performing arts center, you’ve got all of these things. But nevertheless, there’s some people that don’t have to be members of this community that are interested in the Project history of the Manhattan Project and all of that, that you can get various grants and forms and that sort of thing from others. That’s something that we will probably eventually just go out of existence, because we don’t have a lot—I mean, I’m kind of the young kid on the block, actually in our organization, and I’m nearly 78 years old. We got a guy that’s the youngest kid—he’s 65! We call him the little kid brother. We’re losing people. The last two years, we’ve lost the remaining people who were there at startup of the reactor. So the history is kind of disappearing with them in some respects. That’s why I was interested, particularly these interviews that you’re doing here with some of these old-timers and some of the guys that were here, so we get that recorded, and we know what’s there and it’s so important. Of course, as you know, working with you on some of our early recordings that we had with some of our original people that are very, very informative and useful in terms of researchers or anybody that wants to use that information.
O’Reagan: So there’s also ways been a lot of interest among the public in the sort of more negative side of Hanford’s history. Has the down-winders and those sorts of groups influenced the telling of the history in your opinion?
Plahuta: Well, you know, we want to be accurate with our history. And we want to tell all sides of the history. That’s been sometimes a little bit of a problem internally, because, well, gosh, those guys, they just dump. But I say, that’s history. We’ve got to learn what the issues were and what the problems were. And the same—we get some people when the Parks people decided to have a few of the Japanese people sit in on the scholars’ group. I’m not at all opposed to that. I think we got to tell history. History’s got to be told accurately. And it’s important—we may not agree with some of that stuff, and we may not agree with their opinions or thoughts, but it’s only precisely true that we need to reflect what that history and what those events were. So I personally am not opposed. But there’s the real strong advocates in nuclear and there’s the anti-nuclear. We’ve got to show that as existing. We’ve got to recognize that. But I don’t think it’s given us any problem—the answer to your question—I don’t think it’s been an issue that creates difficulties or that we found is interfering with whatever we want to do. We’ve got to recognize it, we address it, and we think we try to address it in a very educational basis, in a very precise basis, and not in an argumentative or conscientious-objector-type—well, that’s not the right word either. But we just don’t want to be contrary to them necessarily. Just understanding that they’ve got a different point of view.
O’Reagan: Have you sort of followed that controversy in your time living in the Tri-Cities?
Plahuta: Yeah, to some extent. I can see both sides. I think we need—particularly, I can see the need to reflect on what effect it had upon the Japanese. I really think that’s essential. Some of our people don’t agree with me. They say, well—they’ll say, yeah, that’s true, but, boy, if we hadn’t done what we needed to do maybe a lot more would be dead. That’s true, too, there probably would have. We’ll never know for certain, but—we hear of people and know of people that had probably saved their lives by the fact that they didn’t have to go and invade Japan. We’ve got some of our own members who kind of fit in that category. But I’ll never forget Terry Andre tells the story when she was at the CREHST museum when it still existed and an elderly Japanese person came in one day and asked her: Are you an American? She said, yes, I’m an American. Oh, thank goodness. He put a big hug around her. She kind of says, well, what’s that? She says, I would not be alive today if you had invaded Japan, he said. Because I was trained in our—I think it was equivalent to the boy scouts—which we were to be suicide-type defenders. And we were supposed to be carrying these bombs, burying us in the sand, along when the Japanese invaded, and blow ourselves up and try to get as many American soldiers as we could—or Allied soldiers as we could. So that’s one side of the story. The others you hear, but people have really suffered when they dropped the bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. So those stories need to be told, and that understanding has to be there so that there’s the pros and cons. And another interesting thing is, when we had the docent training by the Parks people, they were saying, try to not reflect your own opinions. Give them the facts—that yes. And they did some role playing talk about when someone says, well, should we have dropped the bomb? And they were playing with all the different ways you might address that particular question. And try to say, if they took one position kind of say, well, that’s true, but did you think about this or something. Let them decide themselves, but bring it more forth. And I thought that was excellent type comments that the Parks’ interpretation people and their docents, particularly did the training, bring forth those sorts of thoughts. I’m in agreement with that.
O’Reagan: You mentioned this sort of pro- and anti-nuclear folks. Has that sort of politics gotten involved in the interpretation of Hanford’s history, do you think?
Plahuta: I don’t think it’s got involved in the interpretation. Now, there’s people who will be critical of the fact that either one side or the other hasn’t been displayed enough. And that’s an emphasis that I really respect the Parks to—I think they mentioned, they got issues in the North and South War—the Civil War. The things down in Andersonville, Gettysburg—these—and the Arizona, and they really understand how best to portray that. They’re the nation’s storytellers, and they really want to hone in on the fact that we aren’t going to try to change anybody’s mind; we don’t want to argue with them; we just want to presents the fact more and let them decide. But maybe if they’ve got one position, just kind of let them know what some of the other people are thinking, too, and vice versa. So I don’t really see it as an issue or a problem. It’s something we’ve got to address and it’s something that got to be recognized, but we’ve got to do it thoughtfully and doing it with some knowledge of where we’re coming from and how we present that.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. And you said that’s equally true for sort of the local health impact as well as the Nagasaki and Hiroshima?
Plahuta: I think so. But again, that’s my opinion. I think there’s a lot of advantages and there’s a lot of disadvantages. I mean, I keep coming back to some counterpoints and that is the whole medical isotopes, and the medical radiation program and so on. I mean, there’s over 20 million radioactive diagnostic procedures in the United States every year. And there’s a likewise amount throughout the rest of the world. There’s not as many therapeutic, but almost. That’s the positive side. Now, there’s the negative side—that, gee, if you get exposed to it, that’s not good either. So, like most issues, nothing is clearly right or wrong. There’s pros and cons and I think we got to stop and think about those, and each person make up their own mind to where they may fit in that spectrum.
O’Reagan: How have the Tri-Cities changed in your time living here?
Plahuta: [LAUGHTER] It’s been significant. I see the major growth in housing. Gosh, when I came here south of the Yakima River, there was nothing—none of that whole area. West Richland was small and didn’t go out. The shopping, as I said earlier—there was hardly anything here to do in that sense. The amenities of living in the community, the education of WSU here and various arts performing type groups—just—it’s almost like day and night in that sense. I just—just amazing me, and I’ve been here a little over 50 years. It was kind of like a sleepy town almost when you first come—when I first came, I should say. Pasco was the biggest, I think, town at that time. Of course, it’s got its history with the railroad and all of that sort of thing. The growth of the housing and you wonder, how could more people keep coming in? Where are they coming from, and where’s all this activity—what’s this base? It’s amazing. But I think the biggest thing I noticed is the shopping and the industry broadened quite a bit. I think most people don’t realize how many small businesses we really have in this community—various outgrowths, spinoffs of some of the lab work and some of the other activities. I think we had one golf course here at the time when I came over in Pasco. We’ve got a lot of that. The water sports. I mean, it’s—and the surrounding areas, the wineries and all the vineyards. Yet the one other thing I remember when I first came and we first married, we used to go out and pick cherries or whatever where all houses are now. We still go out to some of the places to pick some peaches and stuff, but a lot of that stuff—and pears—you hardly see around. I can think back in those early days that we did all that. We go now in French’s out there where they have you-pick for peaches I think is one of the most popular places in town in the summertime when it’s peach time that they’re just so busy out there. But it’s changed. It’s just—but you know, a lot of the cities and so on—we’re getting people moving from the rural areas into more the urban areas, and we’re no different, I think, than some of the other major cities much bigger than we. But we’re staying—following kind of that same pattern.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. Okay. So as we sort of wrap up here, there are probably—I don’t know—particular stories that leap to your mind from your time working at Hanford or living in the area, or any other sort of stuff I haven’t asked about that’s worth sharing?
Plahuta: Yeah, I don’t know. I think one of the things that comes to mind is my involvement early with the kids in the community in the sports area and then of course, when my own son got into some of that with working with them. The other thing that kind of comes to mind, I said, I remember Christ the King Church, but like everything a growing—I’m involved in the building committee and making that church bigger, tearing down the old government-built building, all on volunteer-type work tearing down, basically. And things of that that you tend to think of not necessarily unique to me, but for a lot of the members of this community, where you saw so much volunteer-type effort, community effort, where family didn’t have their own personal family right nearby. And I saw that. My wife can speak a lot more to that, but I saw that early in ’63 still existed, where you saw this sort of social-type gathering of—and I don’t think we see that quite the same anymore here in this community. If it is, it’s more like kind of an organized structure, or organized stuff. It’s not just like somebody drops by or you get a bunch of families together and oh, let’s have a Christmas party, or let’s have this, that or the other thing. That’s kind of what I witnessed early, and not to the extent—as I say again—as my wife did in her family. But I saw that, and I see that kind of disappearing here. Some of the interesting things at work is like—I mentioned briefly earlier about the moonrocks coming back, the smoking swine—I was heavily involved in when they decided not to have the—I should say the smoking beagles and the swine. The swine is one of the closest animals that’s similar to a human. Their skin and all that. So there’s so much testing on radiation effects. A lot of these swine that was just evolutionary and helped the whole medical field. Well, we excessed those, I remember, in the process of excessing, where should we give it to? And it ended up—I was quite heavily involved in that—we gave it to the University of Minnesota, because they had quite an extensive program on heart development and heart surgery and stuff like that. They could utilize these swine and they had made a good proposal how they would care for them and continue in breeding them. Leo Bustad was the guy that developed those, like a full-grown was 150 pounds, was close to a human being, and all those sorts of things. And I think back about those sorts of things, about uniqueness, again, of science, of technology, developing these animals so that they—and there, again, you’ve got the other side of those people that are—oh, gosh, you shouldn’t be sacrificing animals. There’s validity to that. And then you look on the other hand—but look at all the benefits you get on that, and you can do it in a humane way, and all of that. So those things. Some of the stuff, I can’t describe now. I was not heavily involved in classified stuff, but there was some of the work out at Battelle that once it’s unclassified, it’s just unbelievable some of this stuff that you learn through that sort of thing. Those things often come to my mind, but I still—taken the oath that I’ll keep those to myself. That’s about all I can say about—but I wasn’t heavily involved in that. I didn’t have a super—I had a Q clearance. That’s another interesting story. When I was hired by DOE, they said, well—at that time you had to have a Q clearance before you could ever come on work and it took about three months to get this Q clearance processed. So I was home back in Wisconsin for about a month, just waiting for the clearance, because I wasn’t going to drive all the way out here and for some reason to find out that, well, we can’t take you. I mean, I had no reason to believe that, but I just had to wait out the process. So that was, again—and that was difficult in hiring early on when we were recruiting college kids and stuff. That was when we still needed that—that everybody needed—well, not everybody, but 95% probably of the DOE and AEC—it was AEC then. People needed a Q clearance before they could get on board. Well, people are anxious, they don’t want to wait around three months. They’re looking for a job. So that was one of the difficulties that comes to mind when I talk about out those sorts of things. But there’s a lot of fond memories and associations with people that you’ll always have. And some unique activities that occurred. And, again, I keep thinking about working with Wally Sale at the Consolidated Laboratory and how unique and different that was and how innovative his approach—and he’s the one that really is the creator of that concept. So anyway, it’s been—it was an enjoyable career.
O’Reagan: All right, well thanks so much for being here.
Plahuta: Yeah, you bet. Thank you. And I appreciate--
Douglas O’Reagan: Okay. To start off, would you please pronounce and spell your name for us?
William Cliff: Yes. I’m Dr. William C. Cliff. W-I-L-L-I-A-M, C is the middle initial, and Cliff, C-L-I-F-F—
O’Reagan: All right.
Cliff: --like a mountain cliff.
O’Reagan: Thank you. My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral history interview with Dr. Cliff on May 5th, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University’s Tri-Cities. We’ll be speaking with Dr. Cliff about his experiences working around the Tri-Cities community over the 20th Century. To start us off, could you tell us a little bit about your life growing up before you came to this part of the world.
Cliff: Yeah. I was actually born in Idaho, and then we moved around to Oregon and then to Utah. And then got married in 1969 in Colorado. Took a job with NASA in Huntsville, Alabama, and that’s where we moved to and we lived there for about six or seven years. There were about seven of us that were from around the United States that were hired to work on a special project at NASA. That gave us quite a bit of fun. It was electro-optic systems and we worked on those. And of course we worked into other things while we were there at NASA as well. Huntsville—if you were raised in the West, Huntsville’s a little bit different. For the first years I was there, I never had an American boss. All my bosses were the old Peenemünde group. The Germans--Von Braun, Stuhlinger, Geissler, Horne, Dahm, Krause, and so on. Very nice people, very knowledgeable people. We went down and I got to work on a lot of electro-optics—laser systems for probing the atmosphere and for looking at fluid flow. After which, I got—was over our physics and chemistry experiments in space and was in charge of the first commercial product in space, which was monodispersed latex spheres. So got involved in an awfully lot of things, and finally got involved in the shuttle. Worked on the heat transfer for the solid rocket boosters and the external tank. So my working time seems like it almost started there just about the time of the shuttle and then sort of ended just about the time the shuttle ended. So I guess it was fate.
O’Reagan: What time frame was that?
Cliff: Well, about 1970—well, the shuttle started taking design back in ’69, ’70, ’71. That’s when I was running the code for—of course, we were doing a lot of other things, too. Like I say, seven of us were hired to work on a special electro-optics project for measuring the wind fields near the launch vehicles. Because the last decision made before launch is, do I have an atmospheric window? So that was sort of important, too. As a young scientist—engineer space scientist, you had all the toys you’d ever want. Because by this time, NASA had become very popular to the American people. And in 1969, with the Apollo-11 launch liftoff and landing on the moon and returning, NASA could do no wrong. As with many times in history, there’s a gloried agency within the United States. At that time, of course, NASA took over. Von Braun, the head of it, could do no wrong. So as a young scientist, I had every conceivable toy you could imagine: laser Doppler systems, probability density analyzers, I had a Mach-3 wind tunnel that I could use at my discretion. We really had a lot of fun for a young engineer.
O’Reagan: So what brought you to the Tri-Cities?
Cliff: Well, the Tri-Cities was very interesting. We had a child, Christina, in Huntsville, Alabama. And before she got school aged, we wanted to come back to the West. Both my wife and I were from the West. It’s just like salmon returning. You want to come back, same place. So we looked around, and I happened to call out here. It looked like I was first going to go to Boulder, Colorado and do some work for NOAA. But I called a friend out here at the Hanford site, and he knew that I did a lot of wind characteristics for NASA. And he said, what would you think about moving out here? I said, well, that sounded like it might be kind of good. So they flew me out, I gave a presentation on laser Doppler velocimetry, which we really were the heads of in the world at that time, at NASA. They had some very, very good people. So I gave a talk on that out here. Chuck Elderkin said, when can you be here, in two weeks? I said, no, no, I’ve got some payloads I have to still get ready for. So signed up to come up here and work for Chuck Elderkin and Chuck Simpson and Bill Sandusky and a lot of these really interesting people in the atmospheric world. And as I mentioned, I think this was the largest atmospheric complex in the United States, because you had to worry about a release going downwind. So you had a huge amount of sensors in this area. And in fact, in my work, in dealing with some of the correlation work that we did, we had seen the work that had been done out here as well. So I was very interested in this area and interested in the people that were in this area that had done so much scientific work. So anyway, we were hired to come, and my first job was actually representing Battelle at--I think it was called ERDA at that time—in Washington, DC. So my first six months on the job, roughly, were actually in DC. We moved all of our equipment and cars and stuff out here, and then went to Washington, DC to live for—actually it turned out to be—shoot. I want to say—many months, and then came out here to take the actual job out here. I told my wife, I said, now, I’m not sure what you’re going to think about it. Said, you’re not going to see many trees. And she got out here and she says, I never want to leave. So, one of those people that this was her ideal site. Been very happy ever since then, and she sort of built up—every time I’d go on a trip, she’d buy another horse. So ended up building a little house with a barn and horses, and each—I remember one in particular that was kind of interesting. I got on a plane—I did quite a bit of overseas work. Got on the plane and they gave me an envelope. And it says, To Daddy. I thought, it’s going to open up and it’s going to say, please come home, Daddy. Well, I open it up and it says, here’s the horse you’re going to see at the barn when you come back. So anyway that was the life of the person traveling.
O’Reagan: Where did you buy this—where were you living?
Cliff: Well we were living in a place called Hills West at the time when we came in. This area’s really interesting because it has ups and downs in prices of houses. So we found that it was easier to build than to buy at that particular time. So we built a house in Hills West. Then we were living there, and I was doing quite a bit of overseas work. When we were here, we also then were trained by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission for reactor operator licensing exams. In fact, the Unit Two out here—I was the lead examiner for the first group of people that ran the Unit Two reactor here at Hanford. So that was kind of fun, too. So for a few years, I spent about half my time going around to different BWRs around the—boiling water reactors—around the country. But I still think my favorite one is the one that’s right here. Got to do a lot of different projects over time. The Canadian government wanted us to blow up some pipelines near Calgary to see if they were accidentally or purposely ruptured where the flow would go. So we went up, and my job was to measure the fluid velocity coming out of these ruptured pipes, which were probably three or four feet down, and they’d rupture and it’d just come up out of the ground. So that was kind of an interesting one. We had one where a fellow named Jim Grier who—great manager—did one with Shell Oil Company to look at taking the mud—the drilling mud from the seas and then putting it back down on the bed. So when you’re drilling for oil you get all these muds and things, and now you got to get rid of them. So we had a big project here to look at how you made them into briquettes and then put them back on the seafloor.
O’Reagan: This was all working for Battelle?
Cliff: Yeah, yeah. You had the opportunity to do a lot of different kind of unusual things. And one I mentioned that we started to look into was one of the commercial companies wanted to know how you could take strawberries and make them stand up so you could cut the tops off. So we did a little short project on looking at how you’d use the calyx as a drag device. The calyx, you know, the leafy part which is good for Scrabble. To look and see how you could control the position of the strawberry using a converging fluid system. Anyway, that was kind of interesting.
O’Reagan: Do you remember what year you came to the Tri-Cities?
Cliff: 1976, I believe.
O’Reagan: Great. And you mentioned a couple of names—Chuck Eldritch, something, something like that?
Cliff: Elderkin. Chuck Elderkin. Chuck was really the person that hired me. I came out and interviewed with Chuck. He was one of the nicest people I’d ever met. In fact, I thought this is really strange. The people at Tri-Cities are very, very nice. But coming in and interviewing for a job, I didn’t expect this guy to take his family and me out for ice cream at night. So he was such a nice man.
O’Reagan: But he was a well-known climatologist?
Cliff: Yeah, yeah. Him and Chuck Simpson and there’s Bill Sandusky. I think Bill Sandusky just retired from the Atmospheric Sciences Department. And they ran the Atmospheric Science Department. There’s another fellow named Ron Drake that was there as well. But it was very prestigious organization there at Battelle.
O’Reagan: One of the things we’re interested in finding out is what was created, what was invented, what was discovered out there on the site? It sounds like climatology was cutting edge out there.
Cliff: Oh, I think so. I mean, you really had to have your game plan in place, in case something happened. We’ve all heard of cases where the down-winders were saying something happened and we were affected. So you’ve always had a very good Atmospheric Sciences Department out there. I was trying to think of some of the other names that were extremely interesting to me. Coming out of NASA, I had heard of this group and these people, so I was very excited about coming. And then, like I say, we went to Washington, DC and we had one child and two golden retrievers, and to live in DC for a little while. And if you ever have a thought it was tough to find a place with a child, think about two golden retrievers and who wants to let you stay in an apartment with two golden retrievers and a child. Anyway, we had quite a bit of fun. And then we had to drive all the way across the United States. My wife would fly between stops, and I would pull our boat and the dogs and catch up with my wife, Nell, and Christina our daughter, as we came across. So it was kind of an exciting time for us. I don’t think I’d have the energy to do it again. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: You said your wife really liked it when she got here. What was your first impression?
Cliff: Well, I was born in Idaho and lived in Utah, so this was very familiar kind of territory to me, and I loved it. In fact, one of the first things I did was get in my car, and I just drove out through the Area and up through by Othello and up by all those little lakes and the backwater, look for fishing areas, and go down and talk to the fishermen and stuff. So for me, this was an ideal location. And it turned out for my wife it was an ideal location. She could do all the things that she wanted to do with the animals. And I could do everything I wanted to do with the fish—and the steelhead and the salmon. Loved fly fishing for the steelhead up here. Probably one of the most significant events in that was that my father was out fishing—he loved to fly fish, too. And I told him, as you go down this river, I said, look over your shoulder, split those two big rocks right there, and when you do you’ll have a steelhead on. And he goes down there, and bang, this huge steelhead comes on. Just—he said he never had a fish fight like that in his life. He said, but one thing, Bill, I had to take him the extra step. So anyway, it’s been a wonderful area for us, and like I say, we’ve had a lot of people over. The work really became significant for us in 1989. US Customs Intelligence Service, Eleanor Lusher called Ed Fay at the Department of Energy and asked if someone would write a couple of articles, one on hafnium and one on zirconium. Ed asked if I would do it. So I wrote these two training bits for Customs, sent it to them. Next thing I know, I got a big beautiful plaque from the Customs Intelligence Unit head at New York. And then Bill Wiley liked that so well, he gave me one, too. So that got us sort of started. And then in ’94, US Customs and I began training. Congress approved a budget to do Weapons of Mass Destruction training for the non-weapon states of the former Soviet Union: Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Hungary, Czech Republic, and Slovakia. So that sort of started us off. And the first thing we did, we did border assessments to find out what they could do at a border and what they couldn’t do. And we found one location that if they had—if the smuggler went across the border down a ways, they couldn’t chase him because they had no gas. So some of the places were pretty rough. But then we went back in the countries and we did the training based upon our assessment at the borders. Then things just sort of took off from there. We began training more and more and more countries, going overseas. One of the problems that we had was when we went overseas—I actually carried a suitcase that was filled with strategic metals, if you will, to show and do training on. But it was very, very heavy. And we couldn’t carry any radioactive material with us at all. And we couldn’t—they didn’t have any trucks or things to pull something through, and there were very few radiation detectors. So we decided that we had to find a place where we could have trucks, cars, set up exercises just like you would have at a real field position, and be able to use real radioactive material, and specifically weapons-grade uranium and weapons-grade plutonium. Because these are two items that, without them, you don’t build a nuclear weapon. At the same time, back then, most smugglers and customs officers around the world were afraid of them, thinking that they’re highly radioactive. When in fact, through your training you find out that the weapons-grade materials are the least radioactive materials that you’re going to be working around for most of the time. The industrial isotopes are the rough ones, so to speak. So we got the Pentagon, Harlan Strauss, we got the Department of Energy, of course, with us. We got the State Department, Pat O’Brien, Non-Proliferation Disarmament Fund. We selected the HAMMER site as the site where we could do all of these things. So there were actually four groups of people putting out customs—trying to think. Customs—there were actually a couple different people that we worked with. But we put these four agencies together, combined them together, and came out and set up the training. We looked around, where could we do the training? Well, it just turns out that the HAMMER site was just being developed, and it was the ideal place. We drove through the HAMMER site, Customs, State and the Pentagon and I, and we saw a little building out there that is actually a rest stop. But it looks exactly like a border crossing in a third world country. We said, this is it. This is the place we got to do. So we then teamed up with HAMMER, and from that time forward it was all a wonderful partnership. In fact, people coming in could not tell the difference between if you were a PNL person or a HAMMER person. I remember one time, Nikolai Kurchenko, a Russian, the head of the Russian delegation came in and he had this beautiful Russian hat. And I thought, oh boy, oh oy, I wonder if he’s going to give it to me. Well he didn’t. He gave it to HAMMER. And I thought, oh man. But anyway, that’s been a wonderful relationship to where PNL and HAMMER worked together and you wouldn’t—couldn’t tell one from another. So that—in September of 1997, HAMMER did the dedication of the HAMMER site. At that dedication, we had Hungarians and Slovak Customs all in full uniform, for the dedication. That was the first class we had. And the classes have sort of continued ever since. So it was sort of a remarkable marriage, I would say, of the two groups.
O’Reagan: What does HAMMER stand for?
Cliff: Hazardous Material Management and Emergency Response Training Center. It’s actually the Volpentest HAMMER Federal Training Center. That’s the nice thing about HAMMER, is you can do things there that you really can’t do anywhere else in the world. And that is, we’re able to bring out the weapons-grade plutonium from PNNL, weapons-grade uranium, put it in trucks and cars and pass the through the portable monitors and have the people respond, pull them into what we call secondary and do the searches. But it’s with the real thing. And like I said, the first few years, some of the people were very much afraid of going up against those materials, thinking that they’re highly radioactive when in fact they’re not. But even the Russians—the [INAUDIBLE] wouldn’t let the Russians use their materials to train on. So we had—I think the Russians were here four times for the actual training at HAMMER. And then we actually ran a rail test, where we had a railroad train go by the 300 Area here. It carried the special nuclear materials. And when I say special nuclear materials, I mean the weapons-grade plutonium and uranium-enriched and the isotope 235, and uranium-233. So those things that are fissionable that you can make the weapon out of. Anyway, it was kind of interesting because the train test, the Russians wanted us to evaluate one of their portal monitors. These are large monitors for looking for radioactive material. I think it’s the only time that test has ever been run. In the end, we’ve had over 60 countries out there, at HAMMER. As you know, we took a little tour the other day and saw all the different facilities that have been built, and the State Department has built three really nice facilities for the training. The very first training that we did at HAMMER, we actually had phone lines to each participant coming out of the ceiling. Of course, now, in the new buildings and stuff, you got good simultaneous interpretation, the headgear, and you can do it in the field as well if you want to. Normally, in the field we do consecutive translation. But it’s a wonderful facility. As we’ve gone around the world, we’ve seen how people smuggle things and we’ve built traps that look like how the smuggler does it and then we train the people on how to find it. Kind of exciting.
O’Reagan: What had been your jobs, your involvement in each stage of this?
Cliff: My involvement?
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm.
Cliff: Was I was the manager of the program. We called it Interdict RADACAD. Interdict for the interdiction of materials, commodities and components associated with the development or deployment of a Weapon of Mass Destruction. And then RADACAD for Radiation Academy. Well, you can imagine what happened on that—people immediately picked up RADACAD and that’s what it became known as. And one I forgot to mention, Terry Conway was the main customs officer we dealt with. He came out, and he was the one that thought up the term RADACAD. So that term actually belongs to him. But I’ve gotten calls from people in Washington National Security Council and people say, what does this RADACAD mean? What does it stand for? So we made it to very high parts of government and actually got to be a line item there for training. Andrew Church at State Department in the—I want to say in the training area there—Andrew’s specific area—he’s the one that actually sent most of the countries, or a lot of the countries to us. Department of Energy has sent a lot of countries to us. The Pentagon, with Harlan, sent quite a few to us. But they always came in as a joint effort, if you will. Andrew Church, Export Control Cooperation, ECC, and the State Department, is probably the first group that actually provided funding out and spread it—it would go through Customs to go to us. And he’s—Andrew’s still there. He’s still a good sponsor, living sponsor, if you will. Oh! Now that we’re talking about it, can I bring this out?
O’Reagan: Yeah, please.
Cliff: This is kind of a cute little storyboard. Of course, you probably can’t see too much of it. But this actually shows one of the classes from Azerbaijan that came to visit us. My wife probably has had 40 separate nations at her home where she would spend three days preparing food so they have a banquet at the house. Some of the nations have been there to the house more than once. So this is the Azeris here giving my wife a souvenir. She got so many souvenirs that she had to build a case there at the house to put all the various souvenirs in. Ali here was a boxer for the Azeri Olympic team.
O’Reagan: And then he went into radiation safety?
Cliff: Customs, yeah. [LAUGHTER] Went into customs. Yeah, it’s interesting, the people that come and take the training, when they go back home, and then we go back and visit them in maybe six months or so, they will have moved up in the organization. Getting a certificate from RADACAD was a very, very big thing for most of these countries. It actually meant almost an instant advancement. This is when the missile came in that you saw the other day, the SCUD missile which is on loan to us from the State Department. Some of the exercises that they’re doing.
O’Reagan: Could you tell us a bit more about the SCUD missiles for the cameras?
Cliff: Got a call one day from a friend there at the Non-proliferation Disarmament Fund, said, Bill, do you want to have a missile out there to look at? And I said, sure! And then all of the sudden, one day it shows up out there, and the driver said it was the strangest thing he’d ever picked up. He said he went over to—I guess by the State Department where they had it, and he said I wonder who’s going to be driving that. So he drove it out here and brought it out to HAMMER for training. And—oh shoot, one of the pictures I think I brought with me—I know I’ve got it over there some place—is Bill Gates. Bill Gates came through and toured the Hanford site, and the last stop was there with the missile. So I’ve got a picture there with Bill Gates and I, looking over that missile. Kind of a fun toy.
O’Reagan: Do you know how the State Department got the missile?
Cliff: It was provided by the Soviet Union.
O’Reagan: And the fear was that that would be—somebody would try to drive that out of the Soviet Union?
Cliff: Oh, now that one is one that’s been cut up, as you could tell. It’s been set up as a demilitarized system, so it cannot ever be used. In the United States, however, there was one that did come into the United States legally, supposedly, and demilitarized. And my understanding was that another one came in that Customs took and they had the paperwork from the first one and it was drivable and everything else. So you’d think how could something like that every go through a country? But they can. So I’m not sure where that missile is right now, but Customs took it over and if they did all the paperwork right and demilitarized it, the person probably got it back. Let’s see. I thought maybe one of these we were holding—oh. Harlan Strauss. Oh, missile components. Anyway, this is sort of a fun one. And then Customs gave us this plaque here from the Northwest Laboratory for the Interdict Training Program, 2004. Now the nice thing about this is we continuously got letters from customs officers saying it’s the best training they’d ever had in their career. So when people walked out of the training, they actually felt comfortable. And you’d always ask them, well, what’s going to happen if someone comes across and your radiation alarm says you’ve got plutonium. They say, I’m going to stick right there and handle it. Years ago, they’d say, I’m going to take off running as fast as I can. So just that little bit of knowledge is very helpful. We have had people, of course, that just don’t like any radiation. Some people contend that a little bit of radiation has made the human species actually better, if you will. And that if you have a small amount of background radiation, it’s more healthy for you than none. It’s called hormesis, so it actually—your body upregulates itself to take care of itself a little bit better.
O’Reagan: How is HAMMER run? What is sort of the organizational structure of it?
Cliff: Well, HAMMER actually is a training facility that’s headed by Karen McGinnis, who does a wonderful job of making sure that the site needs are met. It’s actually set up for the Hanford cleanup to give all the specialized trainings so that the person in the field is safe. That’s pretty much it. It has, I think, about 50,000 man days of training a year. Every person on the Hanford site there that deals with radioactive materials is actually trained right there on the HAMMER site in the radiation building, the one that we took a tour of the other day. Volpentest certainly was a forward-thinker, in knowing that you needed to have something like this for the Hanford site, and knowing that it’s going to be a major cleanup facility.
O’Reagan: Do you know much about Volpentest’s role in getting all of this organized?
Cliff: Volpentest was the key person with the willpower and the tenacity to—my understanding is that he thought the project up, he fought in Washington, and he fought in Washington, and he fought in Washington. And I wish I could remember his words one time when—at HAMMER—not a dedication, but like ten-year anniversary. He said something about, they said what was so hard? He said, just again, and again, and again, you just had to be persistent to do it. And then finally, he got it and it’s, like I say, it’s the best training center in the world. You can do things out there at HAMMER that you can do nowhere else. We have brought in containers, we have fiber optic scopes to look behind walls, you can bring the special nuclear materials out there, and you can drive through the scenarios. And we mock-up. We mock-up our international seizures. In fact, one that we were accredited with in May of ’99 was a Bulgarian seizure where a fellow had gone out of Romania and up into Turkey and was coming back through Bulgaria, Josef Hanifi. He got to the border there and the Bulgarians had just been out training at RADACAD. They noticed that he seemed a little bit nervous. So they questioned a little bit and finally they sent him over to secondary. So they moved him to secondary. The car was perfectly clean. Nobody should be driving that car; it was way too clean. They found—a screwdriver was the only piece of equipment in the entire car. They were about ready to let him go, and apparently then he offered them a bribe. They said, no, no, we got to find it. So they started looking and they found a little piece of paper with a star on it, which was a Kurdish separatist group. So they said, okay, now we’re going to look a bit more. And the next thing they found then was what we call a passport. This is a piece of paper that gives the isotopic items that are in an element. It always goes with the material. When you get something that’s very sensitive, whether it’s radioactive or not, you’re going to have this spike assay, or what we call a passport, with it. And if you find it, the other stuff is there. So here it was and it said uranium-235, and said 99.99% uranium-235—which we train everybody, if you see that, you know that’s at least a partial. You do not enrich uranium to that amount. But now they knew what they were looking for. All their sensors—none of their sensors would work. I mean, the handheld radiation devices weren’t going off. Then finally the guy remembered the screwdriver, and he picked up a tire pump. The tire pump was like one he had but it was heavier. So he looked at matched them up and pulled it apart. And sure enough the compression cylinder inside the pump had been pulled apart and a lead pig—when I say lead pig—a lead isotope holder—radiation holder—they pulled it out and it had uranium-235 in it when they pulled it apart. It’s a great example to show that uranium-235 is easily concealed. Because you put it in there. One of the pagers that I brought with me that are used all around the world for detecting radiation was laid actually up against it and it still showed zero. Trying to reach around, see if I can open this up. This is the one we saw the other day. This particular one is my favorite. We’ve distributed thousands around the world. There’s actually several makers of these. This particular one is Sensor Technology. But you just turn it on, and then you wear it. As soon as it turns green it’s ready to pick up any radiation you’ve got. Very, very sensitive, and yet—this water bottle is just about the size—about like that was the lead pig that was in the container. So put it on the outside and if you press the button there—[DEVICE BEEPING] Reads zero. You’ve always got a little bit of gamma background radiation, but it read zero. And then of course as you pulled it open, pulled the top off and expose the little amount of radiation, then the thing goes wild. So that was one of the seizures that we were accredited with. And in fact, the customs officers that made that seizure were brought to the United States and brought out to HAMMER again to give a little talk to everybody on how they did it. So it was kind of interesting. We had a couple of other seizures, too, that were quite interesting. The Bulgarians, when they first were over here the first time they actually made another seizure. So they were extremely dedicated.
O’Reagan: Had there been any particular—I don’t know—international politics or sort of big events that have shaped what people are looking for at HAMMER, or HAMMER’s mission? I’m thinking like—as the world’s sort of security concerns change, has that changed what HAMMER is looking for?
Cliff: Well, HAMMER, of course was really set up to handle the cleanup of the Hanford site. But the society area, if you will, has been a blessing for the world of bringing people in for training. Just going back in history, in December 14th, 1994, Josef Wagner, who is well up into the nuclear world in the Czech Republic, was actually caught by a man named Kamil Klozerski, the second command of the criminal police in the Czech Republic. And he was carrying with him 2.72 kilograms of 87.7% enriched uranium, which is almost weapons grade. That sort of set the tone for the world, I think. Because that had been brought down from Moscow by train, by car, and gone through a lot of different country border crossings, and it sort of showed the world that there really wasn’t any way of catching or stopping it at that time. So after that, you began seeing the portable monitors, began seeing the radiation detectors and things of that nature start cropping up. In my mind, there was sort of a changing segue way, I guess, for the world. Now the United States, I guess, lacked behind a lot of the other countries in putting up portal monitors and stuff because we sort of consider ourselves isolated. But as recent events have shown us, of course, we’re not. So the United States then took up and protected all of its borders with these large portal monitors. And if you walk off on the plane and you look very carefully, your customs officers will be carrying something like this. Normally, it’s just called a personal radiation detector. This particular model is called a pager from Sensor Technology. So the United States is doing a real good job with its people and getting its people trained for detecting radioactive materials. There’s been several seizures around the world. I guess maybe I’ll leave it at that. There’s been less than what we call a significant quantity, bag quite a bit that has actually been seized. We know that a lot of nations and a lot of groups who’d like to have the material. So as we talked about the other day, if the IAEA says that if a country has eight kilograms of plutonium, you could not discard the fact that they may have a full-up weapon, or 25 kilograms of uranium-235, or eight kilograms of uranium-233. So that’s sort of the baseline, so for nuclear smuggling, we always compare that. There’s been 18 seizures since 1992 of weapons-usable material. And when we say weapons-usable, we mean greater than 20% enriched uranium-235 or plutonium. So there’s not been a lot. And there’s a lot of equipment out there to try to stop it. But as we saw with the Bulgarian seizure, certain things can be fairly well-masked. A lot of times, people will ask, well, hey, a small number of grams you found, like in the Bulgarian seizure, you’re not going to make a bomb out of that. And the answer is yeah, that’s correct. Normally what happens on a smuggling operation, they’ll give you a very small amount of material, and if it’s good material, they’ll give it to you to take and analyze. And then they’ll say, we’ve got three more kilograms or five more kilograms back there. So when you see the small ones, they become very important, because that’s what people are trying to push and say, this is a sample. We had a case out here where zirconium—which is non-radioactive, but is used in reactor systems—smuggler sent us a small piece that we analyzed, and it was really, really nice zirconium. A customs officer was embedded with him and he was saying he was from Iraq and he wanted to buy it for Iraq. So it went on, and they’d give us another piece, and it wasn’t quite as good, but it was still good nuclear-grade zirconium. So eventually, customs arrested him, and he had five tons of zirconium there waiting to go to Iraq. It was stored in the World Trade Centers. I went back and looked at it. It was kind of interesting. Oh, I had one other—I got another picture over there some place where I showed two—that Eleanor Lush, who we talked about that actually the program started with, her and another person using a piece of our equipment to look at roofing tar from Venezuela. It was suspected that something was hidden in the roofing tar. Why are you buying roofing tar from Venezuela, which probably the cost of shipping it is as much as the material’s worth? So here at PNNL, Dick Papas and Jim Skorpik had built some equipment—some acoustic equipment—to look and find chemicals that—actually it was originally developed for looking at chemical weapons. And in this particular case, it was for looking through this tar keg to see if somebody had accidentally hidden a rubber ball in the middle or something. But anyway, we worked on several cases. [DEVICE BEEPING] With customs. And it was always kind of fun. I was called in on one case where I was able to go and testify, was the first to testify for the US government against some smugglers. So it was kind of interesting, back in Brooklyn. Anyway we had sort of a fun life. The HAMMER site, like I say, sort of came as a godsend for doing this. They were built up to handle and move materials around in a method—and they’re on the Hanford site, so you can actually use the radioactive materials. And of course we used not only the weapons-grade which we talked about several times, but we also used the commercial items, because those are ones you’re going to find most often. That is the cesiums, cobalts, things of that nature. We have those in the training as well, and the people have to identify what they are.
O’Reagan: You mentioned testifying—was that because--just as an expert witness?
Cliff: Yes.
O’Reagan: Or were you actually involved in--?
Cliff: No, no, just as an expert witness. Yeah, no, no just as an expert witness on what we had analyzed.
O’Reagan: How has your sort of day-to-day work changed over the time that you’ve been working at HAMMER?
Cliff: Oh, not—I’m just pretty much retired and I get to do the fun things I want to do, and I get to do kind of an outreach and talk to the people that we’ve with over the years, the various agencies: the State Department, the Customs and Border Protection, and the Department of the Defense and Homeland Security. I really don’t do much anymore. If a class comes in, I’ll maybe give a talk on nuclear smuggling and maybe a couple of other little talks.
O’Reagan: When did you retire, or start to retire?
Cliff: Pardon?
O’Reagan: When did you start to retire?
Cliff: 2011.
O’Reagan: Okay. What was your sort of day-to-day before that?
Cliff: Well, when we had the classes, of course it was—phew—early morning to late afternoon, but it was a labor of love, setting them up and getting all the people. When the training went on, I one time, somebody asked, well how many experts do you use? And I counted up, I think on one class, 27 that you would run into. 27 different experts you’d run into in that class. We had people from Oak Ridge, for instance, Steve Baker would come down and that’s where the uranium enrichment was, and so he would talk about uranium enrichment. We had the MSIC people come in—Missile Space Intelligence Command—come in and they’d talk about some of the missile systems that we had. So I guess I really wouldn’t call it work; it was kind of fun. And then HAMMER is even more fun. I go out there and it’s sort of like a large family that you blend into. My wife keeps saying now, when are you going to really retire? I think that day is coming pretty soon.
O’Reagan: You mentioned going around looking for fishing spots when you first got here.
Cliff: Yes!
O’Reagan: Is that a big hobby of yours?
Cliff: Yes, I love to fish. To me, this was a very interesting and exciting area because I went up there in the desert area where these—all of the sudden, there’s water and there’s fish in these lakes. I watched the people catch them and how they did it. I’d go down and talk to them. So then we’d begin doing that, and got with friends, and we’d walk into a little lake called Virgin Lake, which is about a mile walk-in, so there’s not a lot of people. Haven’t been there lately, though. But, yeah, I love fishing, and my dad took my brother and I out. I think—I think he said we were either three or four when we first started going out and going fishing. I remember him buying these old bamboo fly rods, which would be very expensive now. And I remember walking and holding the tip down, snapping the tip off on the ground. My dad said, no, no, Bill, you have to hold it up. So that was in Idaho, when we lived in Idaho. I guess I’ve been sort of lucky: I’ve always found something that was fun to do. Even when I went down to NASA, I remember they came out looking, like I say, for seven of us from around the United States to work on a particular project. It was kind of a thrill to be able to go down and sort of play and have all the toys you ever wanted as a young engineer. It just seemed like my life said, well, here’s the next thing, here’s the next thing. So I guess the next thing probably is we’ll maybe settle down even more. Maybe one day do a full retirement. Although I still like talking about nuclear smuggling and talking with the people. When I was in the Czech Republic, and actually it was December of ’95, and we were talking with the criminal police there. So I spewed out all we’d heard, about Josef Wagner and any co-conspirators and stuff. And they said, oh, well, we thought we were going to tell you about that. No. But it was interesting because they were really into it. And when the breakup of the Soviet Union occurred, I said, what have you noticed? He said, well, people think they’re free. But he says, people think they’re free to do whatever they want, so we’ve seen an increase in murders and really hard crime. Which I never thought about, because under the dominant rule, nobody dared do anything. Then after they broke up and were free, they could do all these different things. So the criminal police actually had their hands more full, I guess. The Josef Wagner case was just a very special case.
O’Reagan: How have the Tri-Cities changed in the time you’ve lived here?
Cliff: Oh! More people in my fishing spots! Yeah, the Tri-Cities have gotten many more people. In fact, we live up on Keene Road, which is part of Richland, going toward Yakima there. The traffic has gotten almost unbearable at rush hour. I mean, it really is amazing. When we built our house, 1990, Keene Road was a little two-lane road that did this. As you drove along the road, and if you come up over this rise, you’d see our house. But the house would look like it was a stick figure, just looked like—because you would look through one octagonal window, straight through to another octagonal window. So it looked like there was no depth to the house. It was a very strange feeling. And then the next thing you know—whoom—then they came and bladed out the road, made it a four-laner, and the first thing happened was they cut it a little too steep at the end of our driveway, so our driveway went like that. And I had to call them up because it snowed and I said, I just slid into the road. So they came back and fixed it. City of Richland has been very good. But we’ve certainly enjoyed it, like I say, we’ve had a pretty good life here.
O’Reagan: Have you followed local politics at all?
Cliff: A little bit, but not too much. I mean, the national politics have been something interesting to watch, kind of fun to watch. I always watch the news and hear the people say—it’s a very fun thing to be watching and going over. Anyway, I don’t get involved in politics very much.
O’Reagan: Okay. Let’s see. I guess that’s most of our sort of preset questions here. Anything else that comes to mind that I haven’t thought to ask?
Cliff: Hmm. I’m just trying to think of some of the fun little projects that we’ve done in the past and the people who we’ve worked with. Seems like we’ve always had some—well, it was kind of interesting, because I used to do quite a bit of research. When I was at NASA, we built these large laser systems for what they call a coaxial laser system—for actually looking at wind for probably 20 kilometers out or so. Very, very accurate. And when I came here, one of the first things I did was I went back and I got with our old NASA people and set up a program to scan San Gorgonio Pass with an airplane flying over and taking the wind velocity measurements, so you could see. And now there’s large wind turbines down there—wind turbine farm and stuff. And that’s what we wanted to assess, was how deep did that maritime layer go as it came down from the coast. So that was sort of fun, as it led to the stuff we did at NASA with the laser Doppler systems. But we did it out here at PNNL. And then I got to work with a fellow named Jim Davidson. He was over our national security back then, and probably one of my very favorite bosses, if you will. So with him, I got to be—my training—the Nuclear Regulatory Commission training—and with Jim, I actually became one of the US advisors for the International Atomic Energy List, which is now the Nuclear Suppliers Group. So all those things you wanted to keep away from Russia and China, there was a thing called CoCom, which was NATO plus Japan, minus Iceland. And we’d meet in a secret place in France and in England and go over all these lists. So one of the jobs that I had with Jim was to work on that International Atomic Energy List, to be sure that we’d try to keep special things away from Russia, so that they couldn’t reprocess materials, or they couldn’t do this, or they didn’t have that, per se. So that was actually kind of fun. And I think that I probably enjoyed Jim as much as anybody that I’ve ever done—he’s retired now. I think I mentioned, he’d be an interesting one to talk to because he gave perhaps the best tour I’ve ever had of going out through the Area and dealing with the old reactors. Anyway, he got us involved in a lot of very interesting, interesting things. Oh, one—do we have time to bring over a picture?
O’Reagan: Yeah, sure.
Cliff: Maybe we can take it. This is just a short picture of some of the things that go on at the HAMMER site in training. These are many of the people who are involved in the training. This particular picture, I think was interesting because we’re holding an eight-kilogram ball of Tungsten, which has the same density as plutonium. As a result, you can see how small that is. So if you’re smuggling, if I’m smuggling drugs, I’m going to have a large area. But for smuggling nuclear materials—the special nuclear materials, you don’t need a lot of space. Where with drugs, you’re going to smuggle it and you’re going to have it where you’re going to have take it open, put it back in, take it open, put it back in. With weapons of mass destruction, you may only make one carry. So it may be completely sealed up. Maybe welded. But the size of the materials that you’re going to be dealing with don’t have to be a lot. Not going too much detail, this is over in Holland, when we were in Holland. You see the big Dutch shoe, there. I don’t know if you can see that or not. Oh, this is nice. This is where we—one of the buildings that was turned over to HAMMER from the State Department. Karen Nicola. Oh, shoot. Jim Spracklen. Jim Spracklen was at DoE for a long time and he really was a blessing for HAMMER. He just has been so supportive of everything at HAMMER. Of course there’s the missile again. Paul Van Son was the State Department person. I believe that this one was where they handed over the State Department building that we took a tour in the other day. So, yeah, at the signing of the turnover here, this is Karen McGinnis, who’s the head of HAMMER, the director of HAMMER, who’s very, very supportive of all these activities.
O’Reagan: Do you know how she became director of HAMMER?
Cliff: No, I don’t.
O’Reagan: We’ll have to see if we can get her in and ask her.
Cliff: Yeah. I’m not sure if I want to show that one too much. This is a picture down in Mexico where we’re putting on a little bit of training for the Mexican National Police. They loaned me their gun. So I look like I know what I’m doing. Anyway, that was some Weapons of Mass Destruction training that we did. This is the interesting picture, to me. This is Eleanor Lusher. This is the lady at Customs Intel in New York that actually started us getting involved in the training aspects of it. And that’s the roofing tar from Venezuela that we went up to inspect. This is an ultrasound system that was put together by Dick Papas and Jim Skorpik at PNNL to evaluate if there was things that were accidentally being left inside of the roofing tar. Roofing tar is an ideal thing, because you can’t go through with an x-ray or anything. So if there’s something inside of it, you can hide it very well and it can get through. Except if you’re using an ultrasound system. Ultrasound goes right on through it. So it’s really kind of interesting. But anyway that’s one of the few pictures we have of Eleanor. And Eleanor, I believe, retired this year—in fact, at the first of the year. But she was central in bringing us a lot of cases. Remember the case we talked about in New York and stuff? That’s where we got it from. Now, I should point out—that’s one of the interesting things that we’ve done over the years. We’ve worked for a lot of different sponsors. We began working with Eleanor here at Customs back then. Of the thousands of customs people that we’ve dealt with, they’ve all been the nicest people you could ever imagine. So, one after the other after the other, very, very nice people to work with. So I guess I take my hat off to Customs and training their people to deal with people on an everyday basis. This is a picture by the missile that’s out there. That’s Bill Gates. He came in. He’s actually kind of excited about seeing the missile. He was actually excited about old Von Braun stories that I told. Anyway, kind of cute. Did you get that picture?
Camera woman: Yeah.
Cliff: Good. During the training, we use a lot of different types of material—training material. This particular one here is actually put out by the Department of Energy, Dr. Noel Medding. If you want to know everything about radiation in a single sheet while you’re eating, this was an ideal training aide. We always tell people at your Thanksgiving you can put this down in front of you and say, well, when Aunt Martha takes her mammogram, she’s going to be receiving so much radiation. And if the conversation dies down, you’ve got something to talk from. This particular one is a radiation playing deck. We always say it’s a field training manual for radiation. It has four chapters, thirteen pages in each chapter, for a total of 52. So each one of them actually gives you a different item on radiation. You didn’t get one the other day.
Camera woman: What’s that?
Cliff: That’s for you.
Camera woman: Oh. Thank you.
Cliff: We also built some other cards which don’t have very many left on, but rather than having hearts, diamonds, clubs and spades as your suits, you had missile, chemical, biological and nuclear. So you had your four Weapons of Mass Destruction as your primary suits. In fact—see if I can open this one up. So each one of these, you’ll deal with the different technologies associated with them: missiles, or chemicals or biologicals. Like this one here says Nuclear Terrorism. If terrorists have it, they will use it. Oops. Well. One of the things we do train on—this is going to be hard to see—the Man Portable Air Defense Systems. Man PADs. We heard about those an awful lot. Two things when we say weapons of mass destruction, we also normally cover Man PADs and we cover radiological dispersal devices—in other words, just casting radioactive material around. Can cause quite a bit of economic damage. Well, maybe I left it in the bag. Oh, for crying out loud. I could have searched that all day long. Okay, here you go. Here’s my two favorite cards. Of course, we have the card with the picture of the SCUD missile coming in. And then we have a card—this is Pat O’Brien, State Department, the one that’s helped with all the buildings. And he and I are over there in Poland, and this is one of the SCUD missile engines that they left in Poland. Most of the SCUDs were destroyed in these countries. State Department let them keep a couple of engines and a couple of missiles, you know, for the museums. That’s kind of embarrassing, huh? This one—special nuclear material signatures. It says gamma and neutron—tells you what plutonium has, and what uranium has. Plutonium has gamma and neutron you’re going to detect, and uranium is going to have the gamma you’re going to detect. But if you play it left-handed, like a left-hand person would, then what you’re going to see is going to be the little nuclear weapon. If you play it like a right-hand person would be, you’d see spades. Okay, these are very special, so be sure and don’t lose them. The cards turned out to be probably one of the best training aids that we had. Because people—you give them this big book, or you give them this disc, people end up not looking at them.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm.
Cliff: Then the Field Exercise building, which you were in the other day. This actually came as kind of a surprise to me. We’d worked on getting the State Department to support that for a long time. And the State Department always wanted to support it—the Non-Proliferation and Disarmament Fund. But we finally got them to build the building. Then they were going to dedicate the building, and they said Bill, you got to come, you got to come, Bill. And the reason they wanted me to come was because they put my name in there saying—dedicating the building to me. So now I have to make a big deal out of it.
O’Reagan: That’s great.
Cliff: Anyway. You get it all?
Camera Woman: Yup, got it.
Cliff: This is a nice one, because here’s Sam Volpentest. Sam, who as we mentioned, was the thinker behind the HAMMER site. And so there he is, and there I am, showing some of the different sensing units that we have. Remember we talked about the Bulgarian seizure and the people that made that seizure noted around the world? Anyway, there they are. There’s two of the three guys. The other guy had retired. But they came out and gave us a talk. Here’s Jim Spracklen and I. Like I say, Jim is one of them that’s been behind this program forever and now runs the RADACAD program. Really, really a good guy. This is the Dutch. This is Pat O’Brien, and he’s the one that built the Port of Entry Building that we saw the other day, NDF. And he’s the one that sent—oh, just say he’s one that’s provided a lot of the support tools. If we look at it, Customs provided people for training. The Pentagon provided some funding and selected the nations. The State Department provided all kinds of training materials, so all of those—most of those Conex boxes, the big Conex boxes you saw out there, and a lot of the equipment out there were originally purchased by the State Department for our group program. Then this one here is just one of the storyboards. Let’s see what else we got here. Paul Van Son. Of course the famous picture of the missile coming in. The missile was kind of a cute story. I came in, and somewhere or other the local news found out about it. So they had the missile and we were trying to put it into a little building out there. I never even thought about this, but—it was Tri-City Herald, and they had the people there. Next thing I know is they’re cornering me and turning me around to talk to me. Next thing I knew, I turned around and one of the ladies jumped up on the missile and was riding the missile. So it was kind of cute. But they didn’t know if they would be let to do that or not. So this is kind of nice, because you’ve got a nice picture of Sam Volpentest in there. Earlier, we had one of Karen McGinnis, the director of HAMMER. Patty Murray. The HAMMER site’s had all the political people out there, it seems like, for a long time. They stop in. Very supportive.
O’Reagan: Well we can hopefully maybe get a scan of these at some point. If you could maybe bring back in another time, we could get our intern team to scan copies of these. Then we could have a version of them.
Cliff: Yes. You certainly can.
O’Reagan: Great.
Cliff: Well, let me just say, this is one of my favorite ones. This is an Army program for the 120 millimeter Abrams M1 Tank Cannon. And this was a special—very special projectile that we built at PNNL and fired, actually, down at Socorro, New Mexico. But this is what we call a streak camera picture. Normally, when you take a picture you open the shutter and you open it and you get a shot. In this particular case, you got a shutter that’s open and you strip the film across. So depending on how fast you strip the film across, you get a different picture coming out. But the projectile there is going at like a mile a second. So you got to do something pretty fast. So anyway that’s one of my favorite pictures. And this is the only time that this—you can sort of see that the projectile is still exhausting out of here, sort of like a rocket exhaust. And this is the first time that this had ever been accomplished. In 1989. So VAGAS stood for Very high burn rate per pellet And Gas Assisted System. So it was sort of an acronym. You can tell it’s not spelled like the normal Vegas. But I love this picture and in fact I had to run around looking—I had to take this out of my house to bring it in.
O’Reagan: Great.
Cliff: I told my wife, she said it was okay.
O’Reagan: All right, well, thanks so much for being here.
Cliff: Hey, thanks for inviting me. You guys didn’t think you’d get bored to death like this, probably.
Robert Franklin: Okay. My name is Robert Franklin, and I am conducting an interview with Linda Davis on May 26th 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. I will be talking to Linda Davis about her experiences growing up in Richland, and her father’s experiences coming to work on the Hanford site. So, Linda, let’s start at the beginning. Why don’t you—you were mentioning earlier, with some of those items you brought which we’ll view later—you were showing us pictures of growing up and your father’s photo when he came here. So I guess why don’t we start with your father coming here.
Linda Davis: My dad had been working in Kansas on I think it was a CCC project. And it came to an end. And they were told very little. Go to Washington. They’re like, right. [LAUGHTER] But my parents had always wanted to get the heck out of Kansas, so they found that this was their escape. And it was during the Depression, so jobs were tough. My dad came out. He was supposed to be coming out with a bunch of friends, and my brother got sick, so he ended up coming out later. He had to—he hopped box cars to get here! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow!
Davis: He rode the rails and hitchhiked. And he got here a few weeks after his friends—a couple weeks after his friends did. They all got the management positions, and he got to be Joe Blow. [LAUGHTER] But he came out in February, March of ’43. He had been working cement. They sent him out with some other guys. They drove all over the whole reservation looking for the right rocks and gravel and sand to make the cement to start pouring B Reactor footings. After he did that, he was there when they poured the footings and that was always one of his—he was always very proud that he was there when they did the footings. Briefly, he was sent over to the extrusion and he was one of the first ones to actually run the machine to extrude the plutonium. Then after a short term there, he went back to B Reactor and became a nuclear operator until he retired.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: And he was first here in a tent.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: They supplied these big tents with a stove in the corner. And he says those really weren’t that bad. Then they, quote, moved him to barracks. And he says, those were the pits. They had gaps in the wood. There was just one layer of wood and gaps. So you learned really early on—you woke up in the morning, you shook your head, you wiped your eyes off, because you’re either removing snow or sand. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: And he says when he got here off the train, he says, there was as many people getting on the train to leave. And he says, the sands would come in and people were missing their families, and they were leaving in droves. My mom and the kids did not come until fall of ’43. There was no housing at that point in time. They went and lived in Yakima and my mom got a job and dad would commute on his long changes to Yakima to go visit the family. The rest of the time, he’d go stay in the barracks. And when he first got here with some of his friends, they had long lines for the showers. They were like, oh, we don’t want to wait in these stupid shower lines, we’re in a hurry. So him and his friends went—they’re from Kansas, streams there are shallow and warm. They went, there’s this great big river, so they ran down and jumped in the river. And jumped right back out! [LAUGHTER] He said it was so cold! They went and stood in line after that.
Franklin: That’s a great story.
Davis: And my dad played poker and he was well known for his poker playing here. We thought he used to—was just bragging, until when he died and people were coming in and they were going, wow, was he one wicked poker player. They used to be able to play poker on the buses.
Franklin: Really?
Davis: Yeah, you know, an hour ride, they had these little tables they’d set up towards the back and they played poker.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: He could earn almost as much money playing poker as he could working. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow, that’s great. So how long was it before your mother and—so you weren’t born yet at the time.
Davis: No! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So how long was it before your mother and the rest of your family were able to move to the Tri-Cities?
Davis: They stayed in Yakima for about a year and a half. And then they moved—their first house was a A house on MacPherson, which was just finished and they ended up having to go to a hotel the first night, because it was freshly painted, and it made them all sick because it was still wet. [LAUGHTER] They were kind of unusual because they had their own furniture that they had brought from Kansas. Most people came and they had—everybody had the same bed, dresser, everything was supplied. But they had a lot of their own furniture that they brought from Kansas. So they would have been here—let’s see, he came out in ’43, ’44—early ’45 is when they got their first house--
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: --in the Tri-Cities. During that time, Dad had commuted back and forth.
Franklin: Wow. And you said that your mom was working in Yakima. What kind of work was she doing?
Davis: She was a receptionist in a doctor’s office.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: She was telling me—oh, just a few years ago, she was telling me that she was working, and people had been displaced and all the, quote, riffraff was coming in, and people looked really down on the people like them who were coming in. She was working in a doctor’s office, so nobody really thought about it, so they were a lot of times just talking, and some ladies got real snippy about, well, you got all this riffraff coming in and these lowlifes and stuff. And she just looked up and said, oh, well I’m one of those. [LAUGHTER] But they were really looked down on, because people didn’t know why they had been displaced. And they didn’t know why all these people were coming from all over the country.
Franklin: Right, because they hadn’t—
Davis: Nobody was allowed to know anything. So there was a lot of anger, and a lot of looking down their noses at people that had come into the Hanford Project.
Franklin: Do you think maybe some class conflict? Or maybe people they had perceived as Dust Bowl type people--?
Davis: Dust Bowl type people, because a lot of them came—Kansas, Oklahoma supplied a lot of the workers out here, because the word had gotten around, go to Washington, go to Washington. They didn’t know why, just go to Washington, you’ll find a job. You’ve got crummy farming, a lot of them just packed up and left. And they showed up. Then the, quote, natives of the area who had felt that they had been here for a significant amount of time really did look down on all these strangers coming in. It was—they would look like refugees to them. Because a lot of them came with homemade trailers and, literally their own tents if they couldn’t find a place to live.
Franklin: And they hopped boxcars.
Davis: And they hopped boxcars to get here! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow, that’s really interesting. So, earlier you mentioned that your family had lived in a lot of different houses early on or kind of gone all over. So can you talk about that? Those early years of being in Richland.
Davis: You were assigned houses by what kind of job you had and how many children you had. You could apply to get a different house. And for all sorts of different reasons—my mother liked to move, I think, because a lot of it—she always liked to move. And Dad went along with it. They lived in ranch houses, F houses, A houses—they sneakily got into an H house, which they didn’t qualify for. You couldn’t—weren’t supposed to get into any housing unless it’s written out by the government that you could. They traded with somebody who wanted something—they wanted like the A house. They were in an H house and Mom and Dad said, oh, we’d like the H. So they traded without telling the government.
Franklin: Ooh.
Davis: That lasted six months. [LAUGHTER] Then they had to move again. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So the H houses were bigger then? I’m not quite up on all of the—
Davis: They have a basement; they have one floor. They were probably better made. They were nicer houses than like the A. But the one people were having more kids or something. I can’t remember why they wanted to change. But Mom and Dad sneakily did it, then they sneakily had to slink out [LAUGHTER] when they were told they had to leave.
Franklin: Wow. Yeah, one thing I’ve heard around here is that basements in those early years were pretty rare.
Davis: What basements you had, like in the A houses, B houses, F houses, they were dirt. I’ve been in them when they hadn’t been changed yet. It’s basically a dirt floor, you walk down the stairs and then you’re there. Then there’s like this raised cement block area. Well, that’s where they’d dump the coal into. They would come with these trucks and dump the coal in. You just had enough room to go down there and shovel coal. They were pretty gross. [LAUGHTER] But I remember Mom and Dad, though, said everything was supplied. You had no utilities, they brought your coal—you had to call and ask for a lightbulb to be changed. You were not allowed to do it yourself. [LAUGHTER] Totally government.
Franklin: Yeah, that’s a lot like here. You have to put in a facilities request to do that.
Davis: Yeah, well, they had to—she goes, a lightbulb? Like, we can’t change your own? Oh, no. But she says they were really Johnny-on-the-spot.
Franklin: Really?
Davis: Yeah. They’d call and say, you know, lightbulb in the bathroom burned out. Oh! We’ll be right there!
Franklin: Wow, so it would have been a whole department of people.
Davis: There was a whole department of people who were doing that. If you were not working at Hanford or what they called support, like supplying the oil and changing the lightbulbs, a grocery store, pharmacist or something, you were not allowed to live here.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: And if you were, like, married and your husband—one of their friends that happened—dropped dead of a heart attack, she was given 48 hours to leave with her kids. They were kind of severe at times. But it was super safe. Kids could run and play. If your kid got in trouble, you could lose your job. That was—I remember my dad always holding that over my brothers. [LAUGHTER] If you get in trouble, I can lose my job and we’ll have to leave.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: So kids were good; they didn’t have a choice. If you had a kid who became a juvenile delinquent, then you could lose your job and given 24 hours to leave town.
Franklin: Did you know of any incidences of that happening?
Davis: My parents talked about it, but I didn’t have names or—you know. Just somebody that they knew, their kids had been a real pain—and he ended up I think keeping his job, but he had to move to Kennewick. He couldn’t stay in government. He managed to beg and plead and keep his job, but he had to leave town.
Franklin: So they were not only kind of controlled the work site, but they also really controlled the fabric of the community as well.
Davis: To the point where they had—after leaving Richland, and living elsewhere and now in Kennewick, you realize the layers are like military layers. And it’s taken a long time for that to kind of break down. You had your echelons, just like in the military. They even went so far as to tell people, you are in this job and you’re in this job, and you’re not supposed to communicate. They may have grown up together in some Podunk place in the Midwest, known each other since childhood, but, all of the sudden, oh, you’re not supposed to talk to each other? [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right, so kind of like that difference between commissioned officers—
Davis: And a non-com.
Franklin: Non-com.
Davis: Yeah. Oh, you’re more of a commissioned, you’re too high up and you can’t talk to the lower echelon.
Franklin: Right, scientists don’t talk to janitors and so forth.
Davis: Yeah.
Franklin: That’s really interesting. Did your mom work after—
Davis: Yes, she worked at Dr. Ellner’s office, urologist here in town. She worked there for—I don’t know—from the time I was about nine, eight—I guess I was about eight when she started working there. So that would have been ’62.
Franklin: Okay. And so then you would be born in ’54.
Davis: Mm-hmm.
Franklin: ’54. Okay.
Davis: Part of that big baby boom.
Franklin: Yeah. And how many siblings do you have?
Davis: Three.
Franklin: Okay. And were any of them—did any of them move to Richland from—so your parents came, your father came out in ’43, and then your family came out in the fall. When were your siblings born?
Davis: They were born all in Kansas.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: And so they were born in ’37, ’40, and ’41.
Franklin: So you’re the real baby of the bunch.
Davis: Oh, yeah. I was the surprise. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Ah. I think we all are in some way.
Davis: Oh, I was—my mom was 41, so yeah, I was a shock.
Franklin: Wow, yeah, that is quite a surprise. So tell me—then you would have been born then when Richland was still a government town.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: So tell me about growing up, like maybe from your earliest memories on. What was it like to—do you have any early memories of before—while Richland was still a government town?
Davis: Yeah, I have a lot of memories from really early. My brother and I seem to both have the brains from early, early. The other two go, I don’t remember anything then. [LAUGHTER] They don’t really remember anything until after they’re five! One of the things that always struck me was, as a kid, driving through town and they had that asbestos siding that you had a green house or this dark reddish house. They all kind of looked the same. I know my sister one time accidentally ended up in the wrong house after school. And one of Mom’s best friends came in and found some guy sleeping in her bed. He was on leave from the Army and he had gotten in the wrong house. But they all looked the same. And people had the same furniture.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: So my sister went in and says, like, the living room furniture, I think, was all the same. And she says, she came home, put her papers down and then went out and played. Then came back later and went, Mom keeps moving the furniture! [LAUGHTER] She says she has no idea which house she went into.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: Yeah, they had basically—I remember the green and the red. There might have been—and then there was some blue. And then they had like a cream color with them. So like the A houses would have been light colored on the top and then the red on the bottom. Or cream and—there was like three choices. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right. It’s like the Model T. You can get it in black or black.
Davis: Right. Yeah, this was—and you didn’t have a choice what color it was. And I guess when they first moved in, besides the paint being wet, they literally handed them a ten-pound bag of grass seed and said, plant your yard! Have fun! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. That’s great. So, how about any memories that stand out from your early childhood or early life in Richland? I remember, earlier you mentioned that before we started taping, that your family had bought one of the first commercially available houses.
Davis: Spec home.
Franklin: Spec home. What year was that?
Davis: 1960.
Franklin: Okay, so you would have been about six years old then.
Davis: Right. That was just before I was six, yeah.
Franklin: And what was that like, to be in one of these?
Davis: You—
Franklin: New, new, new homes.
Davis: Because of the class thing going on, I was not considered—and then shortly after they started building this North Richland area—I always felt like I didn’t fit in. I didn’t fit in with the kids in the, quote, government houses.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: My house was basically a ranch house. We had hardwood floors instead of tiles. And we had a one-car garage, ooh, ahh. [LAUGHTER] But it really wasn’t—it was just a three-bedroom ranch. One bathroom and a one-car garage. And then all the scientists and the people making more money and the doctors started building into North Richland. And I didn’t fit in with them, either, because they went, oh, you’re in that little house. It was kind of like feeling like you didn’t fit in anywhere. Because I wasn’t in a government house, and a lot of the government houses were way bigger than the house we were in.
Franklin: Huh.
Davis: But I remember saying—one of the first memories in that house was—they’d moved us in—oh, they’d never allow it nowadays. Moved us in, we had no water. So the firemen came and hooked up to a fire hydrant about a block and a half away. [LAUGHTER] And then it ran into a garden hose, and it was February, and like below zero. So you always had to have water running in the bathtub to keep the little garden house. And if froze up, all the neighbors would come out and jump up and down on it, breaking the ice up. But nowadays you wouldn’t be able to move into a house without full running water.
Franklin: Right, right. Wow. That’s fabulous.
Davis: And then when we were first there—we were the very first ones sold. The others were having open houses. And we’d be sitting there having like a family get-together, and people start walking in our house. Oh, this one’s not open! No. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: And then that of course touched off a boom, though, right, in house construction in Richland.
Davis: Right. North Richland, I remember we used to sit at our kitchen table and look out and watch all the houses going up, and here are all the—for years, you could see new houses and hear hammering every morning. North Richland just really took off because everybody started building their own.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: A lot of people went ahead and bought their original house from the government, but my parents—I don’t know, they fell—my dad fell in love with this house. My mother hated it. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: How long did they live at that house?
Davis: We lived there 13 years.
Franklin: Okay. So they really do like to move around a lot.
Davis: That’s like mom’s record, yeah. Her last move was with us and she had to live with us ten years without moving before she died. [LAUGHTER] But generally, about—when my siblings were growing up, they got used to moving every six months to a year and a half. And they went to every single school in Richland.
Franklin: Wow. Well, I guess they know a pretty big cross-section of the community, then.
Davis: They were always—when you talk to different people, they’re like, oh yeah, so-and-so, and I go, oh yeah, my parents were their neighbors. And somebody else would say, oh yeah, they were their neighbors, too. Like Garmo who owned one of the grocery stores. All these different people, they were their neighbors at some point in time. Probably Johnson, who was the photographer for the area. He was a good friend and I’m still in recent contact with his daughter.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: But pretty much, if you lived in Richland for any length of time, my parents were your neighbor at some point. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: That’s great. So when did your father retire from Hanford?
Davis: I was married, so—when did he retire? I got married in ’74, so I’m trying to remember exactly. ’75 or ’76, something like that.
Franklin: Oh, wow, so he was on—did he have any gaps in employment, or did he work onsite since 1943?
Davis: He worked onsite that whole time.
Franklin: Wow, and so what did—
Davis: Except for the six-week strike they had. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Oh, well tell me about that.
Davis: I don’t even remember what it was about. I was in junior high. They had a strike which my dad was not in favor of, but he wouldn’t break union line. So he was on strike. During that time, he says, oh well, I’ll make the best of it, so he built a family room onto our house. [LAUGHTER] And got hooked on soap operas.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: He used to make fun of Mom wanting to watch her soap opera, and then when he went back to work, he’d come home from work and go, what happened with—[LAUGHTER] But they were only on strike for like six weeks.
Franklin: And do you remember what the strike was about at all?
Davis: I don’t remember what it was about. Like I say, it was in junior high. It was—
Franklin: Do you think you can give me kind of a date range so we could try to find something about that?
Davis: That would have been in the late ‘60s? Somewhere in—yeah. It wasn’t a very long strike, but it was the first one that I know of that they had. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Was that site wide, do you remember?
Davis: Yeah, it was site wide. I wish I remembered what it was, but in junior high you don’t pay attention to stuff like that. Yeah, Dad’s on strike, well, so is everybody else’s dad, so—
Franklin: All you know is that he’s camped out on the couch watching soap operas.
Davis: No, he was busy building the family room.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: He literally put a whole addition on the back of the house. So that’s what he was doing during his six weeks.
Franklin: Still worked. So you mentioned that he had been kind of a construction guy and then had worked at the separation plant, right, and then worked in the B Reactor. So what other jobs did he have?
Davis: He went from B Reactor, when they closed it down, then he went to K. And then he kept saying, oh, I sure hope they don’t ever send me to N. That’s where he ended up. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah?
Davis: He was always—he liked his B Reactor. Just the way the others were set up and they were different, he liked his B Reactor.
Franklin: He got comfortable—
Davis: But he ended up at N Reactor anyway. That’s where he retired from.
Franklin: Oh, wow. And what did he do at—
Davis: He was a reactor operator. He was—yeah, from after construction, he was a reactor operator.
Franklin: So it seems like a really big career jump, from construction to—
Davis: Yeah, but they didn’t—nobody knew what they were doing exactly.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: So it’s learn-as-you-go. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah, I bet.
Davis: My dad—I remember him—it was really neat to go on the B Reactor tour, because it was probably the 70s before he ever even talked about what it looked like or anything. I never knew what it looked like. But he started—in the 70s was able to start feeling comfortable—I mean, it wasn’t classified or anything then. But the guys had just been used to not talking about it.
Franklin: Well, yeah, I mean secrecy.
Davis: But he started describing the panels and stuff. And there was this office behind him, and he says—during World War II—he says, the crazy Italian in the silk suits sat back there. And then he’d go get crapped up, is when they’d get contaminated and they’d have to take his silk suits away and burn them. I didn’t realize it until after Dad was gone, when he was talking about the crazy Italian in the silk suits, that was Fermi.
Franklin: Yeah.
Davis: Sitting behind my dad! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow, that’s amazing.
Davis: But he never said his name. He never said his name. Just the crazy Italian in the silk suits.
Franklin: But, of course he probably would have known his name.
Davis: Oh, during World War II, they didn’t.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: So that’s how—I think they just referred to him as the crazy Italians with the silk suits. Because they literally did not know their names. He was the guy who sat back there, and he’d go into places they weren’t allowed to go to. And he wasn’t really supposed to, but he’d go in and tinker. Then they’d check him for radiation and go, eh, those clothes—I remember, one of my early memories is being in grade school and my dad getting off the bus, because everybody rode the buses to work. They were just like clockwork and super on—I mean super on time. And I remember coming out of the house, and my dad’s getting off the bus in the afternoon and—I guess I was heading to school. He’s coming down—my dad was only five-foot-six. And he’s got a pair of pants that he’s holding up around his armpits, and a shirt that’s probably was past his knees rolled up to his—and clomping along in these shoes that don’t fit. He had gotten crapped up at work.
Franklin: Oh.
Davis: And he ended up—one of his friends who was like six-foot-six had some extra clothes. [LAUGHTER] Yeah, he’s like, you know, when you get your clothes crapped up, you lose your clothes.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: Even your underwear. [LAUGHTER] So he’s coming home with—[LAUGHTER] I still remember—luckily we only lived like a half block from where the bus dropped him off. But I thought, that had to be a little uncomfortable at work, walking around like that.
Franklin: Yeah, no kidding.
Davis: Trying to hold these. Yeah, Trawler, he was six-five, six-six. He was a tall guy, skinny. But Dad was only five-foot-six. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow, that’s a great story. So there’s some—a couple of the big events that we always ask people about and one of them is Kennedy’s visit to the N Reactor in 1963. Did you—were you—
Davis: Both my parents were working.
Franklin: They were both working, so—
Davis: [LAUGHTER] I didn’t have any way to get there. I wanted to go, but my parents, oh, it’s going to be a big crowd. They didn’t like crowds.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: So, yeah, I didn’t get to go. They were both working. So I heard about it from my friends. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Your friends who went?
Davis: Yeah, I had friends who went.
Franklin: Awesome.
Davis: And they still remember it, and I’m going, oh, I didn’t get to go.
Franklin: Ah, you were busy. So any other major—any other big events that kind of stick out at you in Richland, growing up in Richland or maybe even a little later?
Davis: Ah, let’s see, what were the events? They always had their fire parade, their fire prevention parades. That was when you were a kid and you got to decorate your bike and ride down the road.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: G Way, and they had—when I was really little, there was like Frontier Days or some other parade that we had. And then one of the big thrills was in the spring, they would bring in, quote, well, we’d call them travel trailers now, but they were the early mobile homes that were like eight-foot-wide and 12 feet long. And they’d set them up in the Uptown Richland parking lot. You’d go look through them and go, oh, aren’t these cool. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: They brought them up for sale?
Davis: Yeah, you know how they do car shows now in parking lots? Well, they’d bring these little mobile—[LAUGHTER] little dinky mobile homes. Which nowadays, I says, my fifth wheel’s bigger [LAUGHTER] than these, quote, homes that you’re supposed to live in.
Franklin: I could imagine for some of the people who had been here in the early days that those might have given them some flashbacks to the trailer camps or—
Davis: Yeah, my parents didn’t live in the trailer camps, but they had a lot of friends who did. And one of my best friends, her parents had built—they had no place to live, so they built their own trailer and lived down at the Y. It was a homemade, and it was really little with three kids. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. That’s amazing. So did you end up staying in Richland, then—did you ever move out of the Tri-Cities?
Davis: We went to the Chicago area, and we were gone—I didn’t leave until I got married.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: My husband went to Pullman for a year and then we went to Chicago. We were gone about nine years and then came back and raised our kids here.
Franklin: Oh, okay. And so what brought you back to the—
Davis: Family. My parents were here, my dad’s health was failing, and I had just lost my father-in-law. So we kind of wanted the kids to get the chance to know their grandparents, because my husband’s parents were both gone. So, family. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Davis: And good memories of being growing up here.
Franklin: Sure, sure.
Davis: Versus Chicago. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So, what would you—is there anything you would like future generations to know about growing up—like kind of the experience growing up in Richland, or what it would have been like to be so close to Hanford? To help them understand what that would be like.
Davis: Growing up with my dad, the guys and women who worked out there, they were proud of what they did. Yes, bombs, they all agreed, the bomb is nasty. But in the long run it probably saved millions of lives on both sides. Because Japan was willing to fight ‘til the last man, which would have been millions of more lives lost. And if they would have gotten the bomb first, we’d be speaking Japanese. [LAUGHTER] I think there’s an overall pride—and my husband and I were just talking about this last year, that what was accomplished at Hanford would never be able to be done today. Back then, the old—they had all the signs, loose lips sink ships. My husband says, well, it’d been sunk long—they couldn’t have even gotten the first thing done before it would have been out in the open. Nowadays I don’t think they could pull it off. And people knew they weren’t supposed to talk about it. My dad—my mom said when they were living in Yakima, my dad, he had read about the reactor—splitting the atom in the Collier’s magazine before the war. They were going to go get the magazine and look it up. They never got around to it. Found out if you asked about that magazine, you were fired.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: So they learned not to say anything. They handed some uranium around and my dad by the weight, he said, it wasn’t very big but he knew by the weight what it was. And he started to say something, and his boss says, don’t. And later he says if you would’ve said it, I would’ve had to have fired you on the spot. I mean, you just knew that if you said anything—so he whispered it to my mom one night, under—they were sure that there were microphones everywhere. So even though they were living in Yakima, he would put a pillow over them. And he says, I think we’re making the bomb.
Franklin: Really?
Davis: And my mom kind of went, pfft. Sure you are. [LAUGHTER] And then my mom didn’t know—said they didn’t really know what it was until my brother came home from school and all the kids and everybody was going, we dropped the bomb, we dropped the bomb.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: But I think there’s a pride in what they did. It was very secretive and when you realize that everybody was doing their little part, and they didn’t know what the other parts were. I mean, it’d be like trying to tell somebody to put a car together. Here, you have this screw, put it somewhere—and only that one. And you don’t really know what’s going on. It was really amazing what they pulled off.
Franklin: Yeah.
Davis: And I think they—all the men and women who worked out there were really proud of what they did. And I think it went on to their families to feel proud of what they did. Yeah, the bomb’s not a nice thing, but where we would have been without it?
Franklin: Right. What about later in the Cold War, after, and all the other things that were produced—all the other bombs that were produced? Do you think that added or ever shifted and change, or—especially in the late 60s with the protests?
Davis: Yeah, in the ‘60s, my dad used to get to work with Dixy Lee Ray periodically and they’d sit and talk. And he always kept saying, you know, we’ve kept it so quiet and we keep it so hush-hush. He says, we’re past that point now, we need to educate people on nuclear power and get away from the—people, and I still talk to people, especially not from around here, when you’re in other states, they cannot separate power from bomb. To them, it’s all one thing. There is no power, it’s just a bomb. And it’s like, no, you can have nuclear power and not have a bomb. And he kept saying, we need to educate—and I remember learning stuff about it in school here. Cousins and stuff back east, they never learned anything about it. They knew nothing about nuclear power, nuclear fission—nothing. [LAUGHTER] I think the sad part is that they didn’t do more educating, they just—they lived too long in that shroud of secrecy, and didn’t spread the knowledge.
Franklin: Right. So you think, maybe it was—even though everybody knew after ’45 what was—and that they were continuing to produced, there was maybe a missed opportunity there.
Davis: And throughout the ‘50s it was still—you didn’t talk about it.
Franklin: Right, the fear, the specter of international communism.
Davis: Right, even though war was over with the bombs, everybody knows about it, it still was a hush-hush. Yeah, I think they missed an opportunity on education. And people just grew up fearing it and not understanding anything about—hey, this could be a decent power source.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: Taking Chernobyl out as a factor. [LAGUHTER] That was a poorly designed—
Franklin: There’s also Three Mile and other—certainly when a lot of people on the East Coast found about nuclear power first—
Davis: Yeah, they learned about it when it wasn’t—sometimes it was a poor design to start with. Well, when we lived in Chicago, there’s the Indiana Dunes. They were trying to build one on the Dunes. They didn’t even have any bedrock to sink it into. And we’re going, you know, they’re dunes? They kind of like, don’t stay put? [LAUGHTER] When we left there, they were still trying to do it. And we’re like, that doesn’t even make sense. So then there was a lot of stupid mistakes, too, that—yeah, you got to think about all the safety part.
Franklin: Right. But it seems kind of hard sometimes to separate the secrecy even from the—there’s so much [INAUDIBLE].
Davis: Do you know, through even the mid ‘60s there was still tremendous secrecy. Mid and late ‘60s. You still, living here, felt like, you know, it was hush-hush.
Franklin: But I imagine with the government owning the town until the late ‘50s that certainly you would keep that element of—that kind of vibe alive.
Davis: Yeah, and pretty much the same people who were here when the government released the town—when I graduated from high school, what, were there 9,000 people in Richland? That was in ’72. So a good chunk of those people were ones who were still here from World War II.
Franklin: Right, and you lived in Richland the whole time, from when you were growing up, when you were born.
Davis: Mm-hm.
Franklin: So did you ever go to the other two cities much?
Davis: Oh, yeah! Downtown Pasco was one of the best places to shop!
Franklin: Oh really?
Davis: Oh, it had the classy stores!
Franklin: Really?
Davis: Oh, yeah. It was a major trek, but you’d go to downtown Pasco to go shopping. Well, that was a big day shopping, because they had the fancier ladies’ stores, they had shoe stores, they had the pet shop!
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: And they had a big drug store, and furniture stores and you could spend a whole day in, quote, Downtown Pasco! [LAUGHTER] That was a classy place to go. And then the old downtown Kennewick was—that was more functional. It had Penney’s and Sears and stuff, you know. Not Sears—what was it? I can’t remember the name of the store. But when you needed fireplace stuff or a stove or something.
Franklin: So like a Woolworth’s or something like that.
Davis: Yeah, but there were several stores. And there was the hardware store that’s still there.
Franklin: Yeah, the—
Davis: Kennewick Hardware is still there. It was there when I was little. I think one of the big things you remember is like going there in three feet of snow because our stove had caught fire. We had to buy a new stove. Back then you could leave your kid in the car, and I was tired of going in and out of stores, and sitting there in the car. I was probably about four. Mom was just inside, you know, ordering a stove and we got a chinook. Within like the time that they took them to order their stove and come out, I watched the snow leave. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: Totally fascinating. It was gurgling and stuff, but wow. That’s one thing about this area, you get chinooks. When you talk about it in Chicago, they go, huh? [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah. Wow, that’s really interesting. Did you have any friends from the other cities, or did you mostly—
Davis: My parents’ best friends moved to Kennewick, which was my sister’s best friend—it started out with my sister’s best friend who they lived kitty-corner from us when I was born, and then our parents met and became best friends, and then her younger sister and I are best friends, and we’re each other’s kids’ godparents. But they—when I was about three or four, they moved to Kennewick to a new house. [LAUGHTER] And then he commuted. He had to drive out to work because he couldn’t—the buses didn’t go to Kennewick; they were only in Richland.
Franklin: So there was still a lot of inducement, then, to stay in Richland.
Davis: Yeah, you didn’t have to get that second car, because you’d just walk—most of the guys didn’t walk more than a block or two to get to the bus.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: I mean, these buses were everywhere.
Franklin: Yeah, at the project offices, we have a map—I think it’s from the very early ‘80s but even then they were still running buses, and yeah, they’d go all—
Davis: They go everywhere and nobody walked more than two blocks from their house to a bus.
Franklin: That’s [INAUDIBLE].
Davis: So you only had to have one car. Even when my mom was working, she got the car to go to work and Dad rode the bus. Wasn’t any problem.
Franklin: Right. I bet that would help instill a certain sense of camaraderie, because you’d ride the bus with these guys, and it’s not like today when you get in a car and you’re kind of in this bubble—you have a radio, but you’re kind of in a bubble. Whereas in a bus, everyday, you--
Davis: Well, we lived there, where—the change between the government town and the newer part of town. So you had people like Dad—you’ve got nuclear operators, you had janitors and you had the scientists, all on the same bus. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: I mean, everybody rode the bus. When the bus would come, there’d always be five or six guys standing out down there. And a bunch would get off and a bunch would get on.
Franklin: So after the changeover, it was still the site that operated all the buses.
Davis: Mm-hm.
Franklin: Did they have to pay for that, or was that just a perk?
Davis: That was just—yeah, they just paid for it. I mean, the government paid for it—nobody else could ride the buses, only the workers and they only went to and from work. They weren’t for like the families to go shopping or anything. It was just for the workers. And, yeah, they just got on the buses and they knew they were going to be there.
Franklin: When did bus service start in the area for other people living in Richland?
Davis: It had to have been after—as soon as they started building houses.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: Because these guys had to get to work—
Franklin: Right. Oh, no, sorry—
Davis: And most people back then, you had tire vouchers and stuff—you couldn’t like get tires overnight. You couldn’t even get bananas without a doctor’s prescription. [LAUGHTER] My siblings were skinny, so Mom always ended up with a prescription for bananas.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: Yeah, they had to write doctor’s prescriptions. So getting a second car wasn’t even really an option. So they started the bus service really early, just getting these guys out to work as they started building the home.
Franklin: Wow. So you brought in some documents and things. Would you like to—
Davis: Where’d we put them? [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: I think it’d be really interesting to get those on video and to have you talk about some of those.
Davis: All right. They’re not super exciting. This is my dad’s birth certificate. The City of Miller which never was officially a city, in Lyon, Kansas. My father’s records were in the courthouse along with three generations of family records, and it burned down when he was about seven. So he had no birth certificate. And not too long after he started working here, they asked for his birth certificate—that he needed to get it. And he says, I don’t have one. So this is his newer birth certificate that they issued in May of ’42. He came in February so to May he had to get it. They sent an FBI agent out who interviewed his father, his uncle who raised him—his mother died when he was born so his uncle raised him—and his aunt. And they also used an insurance policy that was issued when he was 20 to verify that he was him.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: So not everybody has all these affidavits and stuff at the bottom of their birth certificate, but this was from the FBI being able to verify. My great aunt was like, that was the weirdest thing. [LAUGHTER] Because back there, you just don’t have government people.
Franklin: Right. So they would have been out to the small town in Kansas, then.
Davis: Out in the middle of nowhere.
Franklin: To ask questions about her nephew.
Davis: That was one thing growing up in Richland. You were so used to the FBI coming to your door at least once a month, because everybody had different cycles for their clearances. They would always come to your door and ask, are they part of your—do they drink, do they do that? We talked to them all the time. It was never any big deal, because always somebody in your neighborhood was renewing their certification—their clearance. When I lived in Chicago, they came about somebody who was going to work for the Tennessee Valley Authority. It was my neighbor. My neighbors all slammed the door in their face. I talked to the guy, I opened the door, and I go, oh, yeah! It was security clearance. He goes, you’re the first one who’d talk to me. [LAUGHTER] I says, did it all the time when I was growing up.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: But it scares a lot of people.
Franklin: Yeah.
Davis: But I think they thought it was a little—because the war’s going on, they don’t know what’s going on and here’s these FBI people wanting to know about my dad. I think they’re going, what’s he doing?
Franklin: Yeah, is he a spy?
Davis: Yeah, did he get in trouble? And they’re not allowed to tell them anything. So they thought it was very, very strange when these suited men showed up.
Franklin: That’s great, that’s a great story. And it’s great to have the documentation here to—
Davis: You’ve already seen a million flood pictures.
Franklin: Well, that’s still a pretty—very scarring event for a lot of people, I bet.
Davis: Yeah, this was the flood of ’48. It came within a few blocks of where my parents were living at the time. Don’t ask which street that was back then, because they moved so much. But this was just a family picture of the Flood of ’48 that was so devastating. And then they put the dyke in.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: Here is—well, this one’s tiny. This is just a picture of any summer day in Richland. Everybody had kids. Most the families were young, so there was lots of kids. It was just—even when I was growing up was the same way in the ‘60s. There was kids everywhere. Riding bikes and running between houses, and you came in when the street lights came on.
Franklin: And I imagine not a lot of elderly people in Richland, right? And so that must have—because you would have had grandparents, but they would have been far away, or they wouldn’t be living in town. Whereas in Kennewick and Pasco people might have more extended families living near them.
Davis: Right. My grandmother came here to live with Mom and Dad not too long before she died. But, yeah, grandparents—if you were retired you couldn’t live in Richland.
Franklin: Right, right.
Davis: If you were not working for Hanford, you didn’t live there. So, yeah, there weren’t old people and most of the construction workers who came were young and all had young families.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: So there were kids pouring out of every house.
Franklin: Yeah.
Davis: So this is—how many kids are in just—this is Mom and Dad’s front yard. And the kids played ball together, they ran and played tag. There were no fences, so all the backs of the yards were like one big yard.
Franklin: Wow. And probably still not a lot of trees at that time.
Davis: Not really.
Franklin: And when—can we look at this photo on the back?
Davis: This was 1948. So that’s only three years after the war. So, yeah, the trees are still—if you look around, you don’t see any trees.
Franklin: Right. Wow.
Davis: And here’s another one. This one would be—let’s see. This’d be ’46. No trees. There’s a bush. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: And this is one of your sisters?
Davis: This is my sister. Yeah. First day of kindergarten. But what I brought it for was the A house. See, they had the dark color on top—this one, I’m guessing, is probably the red one. And then the cream. They were all like that, they were all bicolored. We had cream and then one of the other three choices. You had green, red, and blue. That was it.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: The government supplied the paint. This is the house that I grew up in on Newcomer. It was the first spec house sold. We’re still getting our water lines.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: And my dog, Tippy. This isn’t the garage anymore; somebody’s changed it out. But we had—it was really fresh and new.
Franklin: And this was 1960?
Davis: ’60. Yeah, February of ’60 is when we moved in.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: Mom says January of ‘60. I always think it was February but oh well. Halfway through kindergarten, I had to change schools. My siblings went, so? Because they had to change schools all the time.
Franklin: Yeah, not a lot of sympathy for you, I bet.
Davis: And this is my dad getting an award for what they called the Christmas Tree, which was the front of the reactor that had lights—indicator lights on it. I don’t know if it says exactly what he—just came up, yeah.
Franklin: He’s D. D. Smith?
Davis: Most people called him D. D. or Smitty. His named was Derald.
Franklin: Derald.
Davis: Derald. Like Gerald but with a D. Let’s see. Yeah, he was considered a pile operator. $185 was his award, which—like I said, that was a lot of money.
Franklin: A couple weeks’ wages, probably.
Davis: At least two or three weeks’ worth of wages. So that was a really big thing. Yeah, something about modifying the lights or something so they were easier to read. Apparently they thought it was a good idea. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. Do you know when that was? Was that during the war? Was this—
Davis: Since my dad never looked any different over a 40- or 50-year period, I’m not sure what date is on this. What was funny is on the back, I found my friend’s dad’s name on it. [LAUGHTER] And I went, oh! I’m kind of guessing this might be the ‘50s?
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: Early ‘60s? I’m looking at the ties.
Franklin: No, that’s good.
Davis: They had a paper that came out of the Areas. That was in that paper—the Area paper was a little fold-up.
Franklin: Yeah, we have a bound collection of a lot of the Hanford GE News and a lot of that. Let’s see this here.
Davis: 1944. This is my dad’s card for the International Union of Operating Engineers.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: And that was December of ’44.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: So this is still during the war.
Franklin: Yeah!
Davis: And this is the other part of the same thing, the International Union of Operating Engineers. Came out of Spokane. Got stamped; I guess for going to meetings. No, his dues, his dues and going to meetings.
Franklin: Makes sense.
Davis: Whoops. This isn’t for my dad; this is for my grandmother. I need to go show Kadlec this. [LAUGHTER] My grandmother got cancer and was in Kadlec Hospital for six weeks before she died.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: Here’s the total of her bill. $386.15.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: The operating room cost $8.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: Anesthesia was $10. It cost more.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: Lab, dressings—yeah, and she was there for six weeks before she died.
Franklin: Six weeks.
Davis: And that’s her bill. This bill was—yeah, written on the day she died.
Franklin: Okay. And what date was that?
Davis: 1946.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So she moved in, then, pretty soon after the war ended?
Davis: Yeah, and she moved to—
Hungate: And it’s billed through DuPont.
Davis: Yup. Oh, even I—I didn’t even notice that. DuPont.
Franklin: DuPont.
Davis: I don’t know of many people still have a bill from 1946.
Franklin: No. That’s a very interesting bill, though.
Davis: What is this one? Oh, this is just really bad pictures that they took—every year they had to have their pictures renewed. [LAUGHTER] That was—that had to have been a windy day, because his hair’s sticking up all over.
Franklin: Right, well, like you said earlier, they had thousands upon thousands of men to process.
Davis: Yeah, it’s like while you’re at work, and it’s just like get your picture taken, click, and you’re done.
Franklin: And this, on the front it says GE so—
Davis: Yeah, that would have been from after GE took over. I’d say from that picture from the ‘60s.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: What’s this one? Just a few little odd things I found in Mom’s—oh, just—from February of 1942, The University of Kansas School of Engineering and Architecture, Engineering Defense Training Program from—his certificate.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: Yeah, this is—I’m not sure exactly what they taught him, or—he never talked about this. I knew nothing about this until I found this just this last week.
Franklin: Wow, interesting.
Davis: So I have no story to go with this, other than the date and it’s my dad.
Franklin: Right. So then he would have came out here very shortly after getting this, right?
Davis: Mm-hm.
Franklin: Interesting.
Davis: Like I say, when they told him to come out, they didn’t tell him why or anything. Just go to this place in Washington that you’ve never heard of.
Franklin: Yeah, we have a job for you.
Davis: And you’re going to have trouble finding it on a map, even. [LAUGHTER] This is just a—it’s got—it says N Reactor Plant Dates—Data. Just about—I think it was a reference for them when they were working.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: It’s pocket size.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: So I think it was just a—yeah, decontaminating, water treatment—I think it was just a little reference thing that they kept in their—on their person.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: And then my dad was trying to get my uncle to move out here from Kansas. [LAUGHTER] And he wrote a letter describing wages, jobs. So, trying to get down to there. Let’s see. “They want patrolmen pretty badly. The pay isn’t as much as I make by about $18 a week.” But my uncle was single, never married, so it probably wasn’t any problem to him. And he says, “However it isn’t bad. You start at $58 a week.” [LAUGHTER] It says, a week. And after 30 days, after you’ve passed that, you move up to $60 a week. And then after six months you get $62.50 a week. Yeah, they were looking for patrolmen and firemen and a lot of the other stuff. And he asked—my uncle was in World War Two, and he asked if he had any training in anything specific that might be used out here. But my uncle stayed back in Kansas and eventually became a—because of being ex-military, he became a postman. Not a postman, a postmaster.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: A postmaster in a little town. But he never did come out. I just thought the pricing—just thought it was interesting, because 58 bucks a week.
Franklin: That would have been—that’s a good chunk of money back then.
Davis: For my uncle, for what he was making in Kansas it would have been a whole lot of money. [INAUDIBLE] Oh, meals at the cafeteria average $0.75. It’s just littered with little stuff like that. He was trying to convince my uncle to move back out here.
Franklin: Right, wow.
Davis: What’s this? Oh. This was in a Kansas City Times in 1947. “Growing Town of Atom Plant Workers Is a Distinctive Sort of Community.”
Franklin: Mm.
Davis: So, that was kind of—you know. This is what, when people released—after the war’s over, people are starting to hear, now, what the heck was—[LAUGHTER] going on, and how different our towns were from towns that had been around for 100 years.
Franklin: Right. And that it’s completely government controlled and—
Davis: Yeah, and plants were far from town. You know, Dad would usually spend an hour on the bus going out to work, and we were in North Richland.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: Yeah, but I think this is what my uncle had cut out and sent to him.
Franklin: Cool.
Davis: From Kansas. And the highest birthrates in the nation. [LAUGHTER] Because everybody was young. I was part of that major boom. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah. Wow, that’s neat. That’s neat that he saved that.
Davis: And my sister says—we were talking and she said, yeah, when you went to school, you stood up on the first day of school and said where you were from. Kansas, Oklahoma, Arkansas. When I went to school, we had all been born here. There weren’t any outsiders, I guess, because we were all born here.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: But during the war, everybody stood up and said where they were from. Because everybody was from somewhere.
Franklin: Right.
Davis: She says, there was a few—once in a while you’d run into somebody who says, oh, I was born here. And they’re like, oh. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah, oh, you’re an original!
Davis: Oh, you’re really strange! You didn’t come from the Midwest? Because that seems to be the biggest proportion came from the Midwest. Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, Arkansas.
Franklin: And Texas, too, there was a huge—but that’s definitely where they were pulling lots of people from.
Davis: And it was mostly by word of mouth as their job tended to—go to Washington. What are we going to do? Can’t tell you. Because I don’t know.
Franklin: Take this train to a place you’ve never heard of.
Davis: Yup. Any other questions?
Franklin: No, I think that was great. Thank you so much for sharing. I learned a lot of things that I didn’t know about, growing up here.
Davis: Oh, I probably—going to think of a million things driving home, I’m sure. Oh, I should have said—[LAUGHTER]
Douglas O’Reagan: Okay. To start us off, will you please pronounce and spell your name for us?
David Carson: Hi. My name is David Carson, D-A-V-I-D, C-A-R-S-O-N.
O’Reagan: Okay, thank you. My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral history interview here on April 29th, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus on Washington State University Tri-Cities. I’ll be speaking with Mr. Carson about his experiences working on the Hanford Site and living in the Tri-Cities community. Well, thanks for being here. Could you tell us first just a little bit about your life leading up to either moving into the Tri-Cities or starting working at Hanford?
Carson: I was born here in Richland at Kadlec in May of 1958. Grew up here, went through all the Richland schools—Spalding and Carmichael, and—I can still call it Col High because I went there then. Went off to college, met my wife. We were biology majors, and about the time that we graduated and were looking for jobs, Battelle, who at the time had a huge biology program, they lost most all their contracts. So that just evaporated. My wife managed to get on with Battelle a couple months after we were married. But it took me over six months before I finally got a break and got hired on at N Reactor as an operator. My--
O’Reagan: And that would have been ’81?
Carson: That was in March of 1981. My parents had moved here in the spring of 1951 with my brother and sister. I was a 16-year mistake, so they’re a lot older. But they moved here in ’51. They lived in the trailer camp up north. My brother and sister went to Ball Elementary, for example. In ’53 they were able to buy a ranch house on Cedar Street, and that’s where I grew up. My dad was a fireman. Eventually became a lieutenant and then a captain. My mom was a secretary and then executive secretary. She was one of the very first certified professional secretaries onsite, and did a great deal to spread that program and bring skills and professionalism throughout all of her parts of the work. For years, she worked here—for over 35 years, a couple years longer than my dad, actually. So I’m about as Richland-born-and-bred and Hanford-centered as you could hope to ask for. When I got hired on at N Reactor, I started—as so many people in operations did—back in the fuels department. We called it back, because it was in the back part of the building. It was both the front and the back of the process. So back there, we made up the charges of reactor fuel for charging into the reactor. After that went in, the old fuel was discharged. We also took care of that out in the storage basin. So that was—I started in late March ’81, I was in fuels for six months. I always knew that I wanted to move up into the control room. So after six months, in September of ’81, I moved up front to reactor operations, not fuels operations. Started out as—everyone was referred to sort of shorthand as paygrade. A plain reactor operator was a Grade 18. So I was a Grade 18. That’s where you begin learning the basics of the job. You learn how to take building patrol and what all the readings mean and how to take them correctly. Because you have to go around the whole building twice a shift and check on running equipment, take readings, make sure things aren’t breaking or whatever. Then you start learning more of the jobs, from housekeeping—there were some specialized parts of that. Doing laundry—there was specialized parts to that, because it was—you were dealing with radioactive clothing, so contamination control, you learn that a lot. All the different functions during charge/discharge. This was the time, in the early part of the Reagan Administration when they changed over to once again producing weapons-grade plutonium. It was called the 6% program. Weapons-grade plutonium is judged on how much plutonium-240 has grown into it. If you have more than 6%--PU-240 is a big neutron absorber, so it does not create a nuclear explosive as well. It poisons reactions. So the less of that you have, the less you have to work to separate it out and get just the PU-239 that you want. So changing to the 6% program meant that they were doing charge/discharges a little more than twice as often. Plus, a lot of the maintenance had been let go. For many years they’d been in power only, since the end of the Nixon Administration. And that was something of a coup, to let in startup just to produce electricity through the Hanford Generating Project number 1 that was run by Washington Public Power Supply System. We sent our steam to them over across the fence. We didn’t have anything to do with that, except send steam, get back water. So there was a lot of upgrades going on throughout the whole reactor plant. The reactor plant—we called it the power side, where the steam that we made as we cooled off the primary loop was used to drive turbines that drove the primary pumps that circulated the water. A lot of that equipment was also repaired, upgraded. It took a while to really get up on plane and start operating smoothly again. A lot of operators came in right around within a year or so of the time I did, and four or five reactor-operator certification classes’ worth. They would take about 15 people at a time, and you would run through about a year-long program to learn everything from fundamentals, which was basic math, basic chemistry, basic nuclear science, up through the specifics of the systems in the reactor and how they interacted, how you operated them safely, what you didn’t want to do, what you did do, the reasons behind all that. It got pretty complex. You had to take three tests to become certified. First, after the first couple sessions of classroom training, they would pull us off our shifts. We worked a four-shift rotating shift at the time. Pulled us off our shifts, put us on day shift in the classroom for chunks of time. We’d go back when there were outages, because they needed bodies. When you finished your first couple of sessions of classroom training, there was the written exam, which is called the eight-hour. And it really is. It was almost 50 pages. I finished it in about six-and-a-half hours. I used up an entire pen. Just as I was finishing writing the essay on the last page, the pen died. And I looked at it—it was clear, and there was no ink left. So after you passed your eight-hour, you got a bump. You were then called a Grade 21, and a lot more of your training was real-time in the control room. You would sit on consoles with the other operators, and they would help guide you. You’d get some hands-on time. You’d learn more about that part of the job. After several months, and some more classroom training, you had an examination called the demo, where one of the instructors would come over and they would walk you around the control room and just start asking questions. Your job was to answer the questions, point at stuff, look things up in books—prove that you knew where it all was, what it all meant, what it all did. When you passed your demo, then you went into the final, more intensive part of classroom training to get ready for your oral board. Pass the eight-hour, pass the demo, train some more, then you sat an oral board, in which there were people from operations, engineering, nuclear safety, training, and sometimes somebody else would sit in. I don’t know why, but they did. So once you passed your oral board, you were considered certified—a Grade 23. But you still didn’t get turned loose yet. You still had to have guided time in the control room. You had to do a certain number of evolutions. You had to do so many startups, so many shutdowns, be in on so many scrams, do a little of this and a little of that, until your shift manager, after watching you and talking to the other operators, figured you were ready. So then, one day they say, okay, you’re free and clear. And your certificate went up on the wall with your name on it saying that you were a certified reactor operator, and you got thrown in. And then you really started to learn the job. Because all this stuff was suddenly no longer even partially theory. It was all real.
O’Reagan: How many reactor operators were there at a time, roughly, who were licensed?
Carson: It went up and down. Each shift was required to have at least four in the control room when you were operating. Typically, during this time in the ‘80s, every shift had seven or eight certified operators, and as many as a dozen Grade 18s—the ones who didn’t want to get into the certification program, who did other stuff around the plant. Because there was always stuff to do, if nothing else—housekeeping, stocking the laundry, and sweeping the floors. We had a schedule that came up every month and you rotated through different jobs in the control room. At the N control room, there was three major parts. There was a nuclear console, where you actually ran the reactor itself. We manually controlled the rod positions and manually monitored the power level and the flux where the neutron cloud was going up or down in the reactor. You wanted to keep that still and stable. You didn’t want it to cycle, because that can get—create stresses, if one part of the reactor’s really hot while this one back here is cold, it stresses—increases the fatigue and the chances for the failure of something. So you wanted to keep it nice and steady. We had instrumentation. We had—the only computer display we had was of temperatures. That was probably the main one, and the charts that showed how the neutron flux was changing. You wanted to keep all the lines straight. There was two of you, and you rotated on the nuke console every two hours—two hours on, two hours off. You’d get breaks and stuff while you were off. The double-A console controlled all of the primary loop and its interface with the secondary loop. That’s where you controlled the drive turbine speeds that drove the primary pumps to circulate the coolant. That’s where you controlled the primary loop pressure, the level of it, the emergency backup stuff—you were responsible for that. So you had this whole corner of the control room and panels that were your responsibility. The third part controlled the secondary loop—that’s the side—the primary loop went into the tubes of heat exchangers and it boiled the water on the shell of the heat exchanger—the steam generators. So that steam went up into the steam header. A lot of it went over to WPPSS. Some of it went down to drive our turbines. We also had a turbine generator of our own in the boiler building that was our onsite power source. You took care of the secondary loop there—its level, its pressure, the way it was. There was also a lot of other things that that operator did—rupture monitoring was at that panel, because N Reactor did not have a containment; it had a confinement. It was designed in 1958, went critical in ’63. They didn’t build—I guess they couldn’t at the time yet—build a full containment to keep everything in. It was designed that if there was a tube rupture and you had a big burst of superheated steam, that would vent. So we had to keep our primary loop really, really clean. And that’s what the rupture monitor was. If you saw signs that the fuel element in one of the 1,003 process tubes was beginning to release uranium into the water, you’d shut down and push that tube right away. There was also a system specifically for cooling the graphite. N Reactor, like the other old Hanford reactors, was called graphite-moderated. It used very pure graphite in a big block with complex passages through it. The neutrons, when they would leave the fissioned uranium atom, would go out and bounce around in that graphite before they found their way back into fuel, slowed way down, so that they could cause another fission. Modern power reactors use the water, the coolant, as a moderator. We used the solid graphite. We had a system to cool that specifically. So that operator took care of that. Also, the gas system, we circulated helium through the core when we’re operating, because at full power, 4,000 megawatts thermal, the temperature in the center of the core was 600, 700, 800 degrees in places, Fahrenheit. Pure graphite—you don’t want any air or water, anything that’s going to react with it at those temperatures. So we used the helium—you had to control that, too. And there’s other miscellaneous stuff, but you had to learn all of this, and you learned all of the classroom stuff, but just like anything, you really learned by doing, where it becomes second nature. The wonderful part about working it in was my shift—I was a little unusual in that I was assigned to one shift at the beginning, C shift, and I stayed on that shift my whole nine years there. Other people would move around, sometimes involuntarily. But I managed to stay on C shift all the time. It’s such a wonder and a joy when you can become that tight of a team to where you knew exactly how any individual’s going to react in a given situation. You don’t even need full words to communicate. We would have entire conversations in acronyms and shorthand. And we—stuff happened and we would ride it out and just—scary as heck, but—when it was over, you knew that the team had just really done its work like it’s supposed to. So that was always—that was a good feeling.
O’Reagan: Could you give us an example of one of these acronym exchanges?
Carson: Oh. Oh, it’s— What’s the HPIP delta P? 18. Okay, we need that up to 50. So—I’ve lost a lot of that.
O’Reagan: Sure.
Carson: But as in any installation, every piece has a name. It has typically an official name that meets a standard of naming from an engineering organization, it has the name that it’s normally referred to as, and it has an acronym. Sometimes it might have an even shorter shorthand name that your crew comes up with that you all know what it is, but you also know all the others as well. In a situation where something has begun to get out of line, out of normal--it’s not a crisis, but it’s something that you have to pay attention to and deal with right away—you need to transfer information as quickly and as clearly as possible. And that was how that was done, with shorthand acronyms that everyone knew exactly what you were saying; they could anticipate what you were about to say. So you could get other people to take particular actions absolutely as quickly as possible, and they could get you, by what they said back, to do your actions properly.
O’Reagan: Could you walk us through a one specific scram or other sort of stressful event?
Carson: I was there in the control room one night when—I believe it was thunderstorms hit a main distribution power line—a 230-kilovolt lines coming from the dams—that happened to be online as our offsite power. Lightning hit one of those transmission lines and caused a power surge that tripped open the breakers at the substation. Offsite power was called A bus. Onsite power was B bus. You needed them active and separated up from 13.8-kilovolt where it came into the reactor, all the way down to 12-volt DC instrument power. You couldn’t have any connection between those two, because that could conceivably cause a fault that would stop the reactor from scramming if it needed to. So they powered everything, but some things were powered more by one bus or one by another. This is one of the main things that we trained for, was a power loss. Of course, if you lose one of your electrical buses, that’s one of the automatic reactor scram trips—there was 23 of them. So the reactor scrammed, and everything’s going along about like you’d expect for a power loss from one bus. Everything’s already prepared and set up to take the proper actions automatically, so you have to monitor those and adjust as necessary. Then all of a sudden, there was some kind of electrical fault in our B bus, our onsite power, which was still online. It tripped off. It was B bus—I believe I’m saying this right—B bus powered the lights in the control room. So you knew if those lights went on, you’d lost B bus as well. Now, if you lost both buses at the same time, that was an automatic trip onto emergency cooling, which for N Reactor was very large, high-pressured diesel pumps would pump water. Valves would open at the inlet and outlet of the reactor and it would change to a once-through. We had a series of water tanks with demin[eralized] water, filtered water and sanitary water. And then through some mechanisms, it would trip all the way to river water. If it was known that if you ever tripped over onto emergency cooling, the thermal shock—because the water was kept hot, but it wasn’t as hot as the reactor—the thermal shock could basically destroy the reactor. And that would be over. Nothing you could do at that point as far as keeping the reactor as an operating reactor in the future. So luckily, A bus had actually come back online just seconds before B bus went off. Then B bus came back, so the lights came back on, and then we lost A bus again. Because the whole BPA network was still having ripples and things. And then it came back up and then we lost B bus again. So when each of these things is happening, there’s stuff you have to do, depending on what it was. We’re running back and forth, trying to do that, and it got really tense. But all that training, you stopped really thinking—just all the training in your brainstem took over and you started doing what you needed to do and communicating in just those short, almost little digital blips of information so that everyone knew what you were doing, and you knew what they were doing and you knew what everybody had to do and that they were doing it. So things got pretty terse in the control room right there. As the buses kept coming up and down, it would reset off hundreds of enunciators and we didn’t have time to try and figure out what the overall cause was; we were just still fighting to keep the reactor from tripping on to emergency cooling. So eventually, we got both buses back and stable and we could continue with our—then it became just a regular post-scram shutdown. The cool-down of the reactor, changing things to work slightly different ways here and there throughout the plant. Then you sit back and giggle and get the shakes a little bit. Everybody talked real loud and real fast for a while, you know? [LAUGHTER] So—just some stressful things like that. Any unexpected scram made you a little tense, a little puckery. Because you didn’t know what happened. We had big CRT monitors mounted up by the nuclear and the double-A console that were tied into an electronic alarm system that they would record all of the enunciators. There were—I think I heard the number once—it was 1,400 different enunciators in the control room. When one of those went off, it sent a signal to this alarm system that put the ID of them in a buffer memory. They would display up in the CRTs. Well, when you scram, you got 400 enunciators within two or three seconds. So all you could see on the screen was the first eight or so. So you didn’t know what was going on. You just had to deal with what you were supposed to do and trust that no further catastrophe was going to happen, and just be ready for it if it did. When the reactor was running smoothly, we called it at equilibrium, when we had not changed power by more than 5% in 72 hours. That was sometimes hard to keep your focus, because all the lines are running straight on the charts, and it’s graveyard, nobody wants to talk, and you’ve all told all your stories a dozen times, and nothing much to say. So you’re sitting, waiting, watching. So like the quote about war, hours of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror. Not as terror-filled as they might be, because we were trained and experienced in most stuff. Sometimes—there was always the possibility that sometimes something could happen that was really untoward, really out of the way, that could be really dangerous, really a disaster.
O’Reagan: How much of working in the control room was sort of judgment or sort of work of art as opposed to a sort of objective do-the-next-thing?
Carson: Actually quite a bit of it. One of the things that you developed as you gained experience as an operator—we called it getting stick time. When you started getting enough hours on a console and really starting to figure out how everything actually did work, you developed a feel, just from watching how all the different parts of the console you were on interacted. You got a feel if something was maybe not right, if something started looking a little jittery or a little bit out of its normal range that you wanted. Then you’d have to figure out, what little tweak can I make? Because everything was running in automatic, but you could always make small corrections. What little tweak could I make, given what I know about that that’s going on, that would make it better? And you developed what I always called a touch. Because you didn’t just go up and start twisting stuff. You really—with some instruments, some controllers—some control loops more than others—you didn’t want to put any very large change into it at all, because it was so sensitive. In the action that that controller would take, the input back to, say, the primary loop from changing the speed of one of the makeup injection pumps could just suddenly—if you did too much by accident, you could scram the reactor. Or you could cause it to lose pressure, which would scram the reactor another way. So getting to really develop that unconscious feel, similar to the way that when you’re driving and you pull into a parking lot or a real narrow street, you can actually feel with your body where the corners of your fenders are. It’s developing that kind of feel for a huge complex machine that was really what brought you into being a really good, competent operator. Some folks had it on some systems more than others. The older operators who’d been at it forever, it was just completely unconscious with them. That was just the way they did things was smooth and easy, and you don’t just jump in and start fiddling with stuff. You always think it through before you touch anything. And then when you touch it, you touch it very gently and make the changes as slow and small as you can to get the result that you want.
O’Reagan: So you worked there through the closing of N Reactor, is that right?
Carson: Yes.
O’Reagan: How much did that change over the course, before you got to the closing? Was it—job change a lot over that time?
Carson: While we were still operating—regular operation—it didn’t change that much. Some new things were put in, but overall they didn’t really affect us much. You had to deal with failures. For example, when the reactor was operating, the water circulated through five steam generator cells. We had six, so one was always out of service for maintenance or repairs or whatever, and you operated with five. Well, one of the cells was undergoing a total refit—a total reconditioning. And then another one of the cells, the primary pump developed some problems that were going to require a rebuild. So the decision was made to go ahead and operate at a reduced power level with only four cells online. That took a lot of adjustments. They had to come up with temporary limits that we had to learn and follow. Some of the procedures changed slightly for that temporary period to take into account the fact that you had a lower capacity and a lower rate of heat removal. So just dealing with a change like that, and then that begins to feel normal. And then they bring another cell back online. So you’re back to the way it was that used to be normal, but you have to kind of reset yourself to working that way. Limits were really the main thing we paid attention to as we were operating. All of the nuclear industry—and N Reactor, certainly, they really drilled this into us—it operates in defense of depth. You don’t ever have just a single barrier to something causing an accident. I called it a box-in-a-box-in-a-box-in-a-box-in-a-box. There’s the actual strength of the machine, at what pressures or temperatures will it break because the materials just physically can’t take it. So that’s your outermost limit that you never, ever, ever got close to. Inside of that was your technical specifications that protected this outer box. Inside the technical specifications were the process standards that protected the technical specification limits. Inside the process standards were your operating limits that protect—you never wanted to break a process standard, because you’d have to have an investigation and figure out why that happened and everything. And sometimes there were even special limits inside the operating limits that were even more restrictive. So those limits changed over time, but that was just part of the job. You had to get used to the new ways things were, and just live with it, because that’s the way it was. They taught us why the change was made, and what it meant, and that this was the new limits here and here and here. That’s the kind of stuff we went through during our continuous training. After you’re certified, the training cycle had all the operators, shift by shift, when they would roll around on dayshift, you would have training days. And every two years, you went through the entire certification curriculum again, from fundamentals through reactor operations, through system interactions—all of it, every two years. We had to take a recertification exam every quarter. So every three months you had a job jeopardy examination to keep on top of stuff. So that’s how all that was communicated to us and incorporated into the way we worked and the way things were operated and handled. As we got past the Chernobyl accident, some people knew right away, that was the death knell for N. A lot of us were still optimistic that the differences were so clear and plain and could be explained, and we could continue. They had plans for upgrading some of our equipment to allow the reactor to run for another 20 years, they said. [SIGH] Didn’t turn out that way. So much political fire came down on all of the DoE complex, but Hanford especially. I don’t know if you remember, at the time, we had a senator who was 100% anti-Hanford. I spoke at the time when South Carolina had three senators and we had one. Because he worked as hard as he could to send all the work, all the waste, all the everything to Savannah River, so that it wouldn’t be at Hanford. I’m just griping now, but—it ended up, it was January 7th, 1997 at 07:31 that the reactor was shut down for the last time. It was going to be for an upgrade. They were going to put in a control room habitability system that did actually get put in, and it worked. It was for a time if there was ever a large release from the reactor, we could have sealed up the control room and lived on recirculated air and supplies for up to two weeks. They put that in. There was another big upgrade. Because of the hydrogen bubble that developed inside the reactor at Three Mile Island from water being split by high temperatures and the presence of metal into hydrogen and oxygen. And the hydrogen formed a big bubble that could have—in very, very small circumstances—could have ignited or exploded. They were worried about hydrogen inside the reactor and power buildings at N. So they were putting in a hydrogen mitigation system that would have been able to take all of the hydrogen evolved from the entire quantity of water in the primary loop. If it all split and turned into hydrogen and oxygen, this system could have recombined the hydrogen and taken away the explosive potential. So we all hoped that, yeah, we were going to get these upgrades and we’d be able to start up again and keep going for a while longer. But we never did. So the people who could leave right away did. But the end of ’97, we’d lost a lot of the real sharp engineers and some of the top people in operations. And then as the years went on, and became more and more clear that there was no future for the reactor, more and more people drifted away. I eventually, in late ’89, I took a temporary upgrade to write layup procedures for the reactor. At the time, they were going to keep it in—well, it went through a whole series. It was going to be on cold standby, where the fuel would still be in the reactor; we would still recirculate the loop, but we wouldn’t operate. We would just maintain it ready to operate if we needed it. Then it was going to turn to dry standby, where the reactor would be defueled and we would circulate dry pure air through all of the piping throughout the plant to keep the corrosion away so that if we needed to restart, we could refuel and restart. So that was one of the big procedures that I took the upgrade to write, was the whole valve lineup to establish that flow path from the 24-inch primary and secondary loop main valves, all the way down to the ¼ inch instrument root valves. I had to find every single one and lay out how they were going to be opened, in what sequence. I also wrote a bunch of other procedures. That’s where I first started learning how to write procedures. But at the end of the six months, they did not want to keep me on there permanent, doing that. And I sure didn’t want to go back to operations, which was by that time two years after the reactor had been shut down, almost three. I could just feel the IQ dribble out my ears, because you can only sweep the same floor so many times. Once the reactor was defueled, there wasn’t a whole lot of anything to do.
O’Reagan: How many people were still on doing that kind of work?
Carson: Probably about half the number that we’d had at the peak days. Because you didn’t need as many operators to do what we were doing. So people were going to various places. A lot of people went from there over to the K Basins, to deal with the stored fuel. Some of them are still there, dealing, now, just with the sludge. It just—there was no sense in trying to stay there where I was comfortable. So that’s when I got a job with Tank Farms, writing procedures. So I did that for four years.
O’Reagan: Was that something that you actively thought—you enjoyed the procedure writing, or was that just another--?
Carson: Actually, yes. I’ve always loved writing. For a long time, I desperately wanted to be a writer, a fiction writer or a science writer. And I just never was able to do it. I got a small number of rejection letters from various magazines. Once I started writing for a living, doing procedures, it just knocked all hope of ever writing fiction right out of me. But I enjoyed the process; I’ve always enjoyed figuring stuff out. When I came to Tank Farms, the procedures were horrible. There are standards and—even at that time, it was just coming out of DoE order on how the qualities of procedure has to have—the requirements that it has to meet, in terms of how it’s written, how the data is presented, how things are phrased. So when I came into Tank Farm Procedures, once I got my feet on the ground, I kind of pushed, and we did a complete overhaul of the entire Tank Farms Procedures system. Getting all of the several hundred—I think 740 procedures—getting them all rewritten to current standards. I developed, for the first time at Tank Farms, a standard compliant alarm response procedure. There’s procedures for everything, including when—I talked about all the enunciators in the control room. We had big, thick books of enunciator response guides that told you what tripped it, when it would reset, what it meant, and what you had to do. When 500 go off at once, you’re just doing your trained-in post-scram actions that you know what to do. You don’t look at each individual one. At Tank Farms, they had alarm response procedures, but for a whole facility, the book might be this thick, because anything that happened, the only response was notify management. It was quite a culture shock to go down to Tank Farms, because at N, you needed a college degree of some kind just to get in the door. It was a really fast crowd. Really smart. Even the guys that stayed back in fuels, most of them were really sharp. So we operated at a really high level, had a really high level of in-depth training. Tank Farms, not so much. So I had to get over that culture shock, and then begin to teach the folks that I was writing these procedures for why they’re changing, and what it meant for them, and why it was better to do it this way. So eventually, we did. We were the first group to use electronic photography in procedures. We were the first group to have all of our procedures computerized. And we worked hard and it came out really well. I learned that I really enjoy that process of figuring things out and then of using my writing skills to convey that in the best way possible. I really enjoyed that. After four years at Tank Farms Procedures, a new facility was being built, the 200 Area Effluent Treatment Facility. So I transferred from Tank Farms to the ETF. In part, because they had stuck in a manager that no one got along with. The man was not very—ahem—socially apt. We’ll just leave it at that. I went over to ETF and started developing their procedures as the facility was still being built. That’s where I got laid off. 1995, there was a big layoff by Westinghouse. I got the boot there. So for the next two years—it took me six months to get any kind of job again. And then I was—Fluor Hanford had come in—Fluor Daniels. They had their own built-in temporary company to supply temporary work. So I bounced in and out with that temporary company several times on the canister storage building, a little bit at Tank Farms. And then finally the head of Fluor Northwest just said, we’re done with all these temporary people, because it’s too hard to deal with the temporary company. Just hire them all in. So ’97, I got hired in. And then I got made over into a nuclear safety hazard analyst. That has been my main bread and butter. Hazard analysis, which is a very specific discipline in the nuclear industry, working on safety basis documents, which is the—safety basis defines what you can do and how you can do it, and what you can and can’t do. So the nuclear safety people developed that, the customer—DoE RL—approves it, and that’s what you live by. So we—first we draw the coloring book, then we make sure that everyone colors inside the lines. That’s nuclear safety’s job. Hazard analysis is a part of that, because before you do anything new, or if you’re going to change anything that you’re doing that’s approved now, you have to have a very deliberate process of analyzing all the hazards, figuring out how bad the hazard is, what it could cause, how bad that effect could be—if it’s a real accident or if it’s a no, never mind, that’s already covered by other controls, do the new analysis you need to do, create new controls for it, and get those instituted so that everything is still inside the box.
O’Reagan: When you were working on the Tank Farms, do you think those procedures were just left over from a time when people just didn’t care as much about—
Carson: Yes. Very much so. I guess I skipped ahead. I talked about the culture shock moving to Tank Farms. At N, we had great training, we had really good procedures that were very well thought out and well developed and well proved. We had a deep understanding of all of our limits, why they were there, what it meant if you violated one in a certain way. All that was just ingrained to us. So you did things by the procedure, you lived inside the limits, you knew why, you knew how. There was no problem. Everybody just worked that way. Tank Farms had for years been kind of a dumping ground of the people who couldn’t make it elsewhere. The only lower step was the laundry. And I worked a little bit with some tank farm operators that, shortly after I got there, got transferred to the laundry because they couldn’t make it at Tank Farms. The whole organizational philosophy was the smart guys know what they’re doing, just shut up and do what they tell you, even if it isn’t written down. Don’t worry about that, that’s just for show. Their procedures were—in one case, it was a page-long paragraph that was one sentence. I don’t think it even had a verb. It was like telling a story, and didn’t have any specifics. Nobody understood them. They all hated them, because they were all like that. We changed that; we made it better. The culture shock was coming from a place like N, where, like I said, we were a fast crowd, we were really dialed in, we really knew what was what, to Tank Farms, where there were still people working there—great operators, they really knew their job, they knew what to do—but they couldn’t read. They had a special dispensation to have their requal exams every year orally. Because they couldn’t read. They couldn’t read valve tags. So people would go out with them and tell them what was what. They knew exactly what to do; they were good operators. But that kind of difference in level really caught me short for a while. It took me a while to change my mind to realize that—okay, they want to do a good job, too, no matter how cranky they seem. So don’t look down on them, don’t ride a high horse. Just—they’re people like you, let them to do the job. And it worked out, it did. I made some friends there and we did some good stuff. I helped a lot of them out where I could, explaining things. I think I’ve forgotten what the question was. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: I was just sort of exploring this different or maybe changing priorities about the environment or waste control over time and over different parts of Hanford. It seems like they’re—
Carson: Oh, yeah, okay.
O’Reagan: We’re really interested in safety and such at N Reactor and having these great procedures, but maybe the less sexy parts of it were not as fully developed yet.
Carson: Yeah. This is an example I think that illustrates that. We were among the first to really start taking control of our low-level waste. Every place you come out of a zone, there’s what’s called a step-off pad, where you undress in sequence. You take the outermost stuff off, and you step on one pad, then you take the inner stuff off and step on the next one, so that you’re leaving all of the contamination behind. There were rad boxes sitting there, and so for things like your tape and your surgeon’s gloves, would all get thrown in the rad box. That’s what most of our low-level waste was. That kind of stuff. Nobody used to pay much attention to it; it was just something that you toted down to this room, and then you threw it on a truck and somebody took it somewhere and threw it away. They really started working at following the latest directions for how to properly deal with and account for all of the waste: low-level, higher level waste—anything. Getting the accountability, getting the proper labeling, understanding the proper limits for what could be certain types of waste. We really had that ground into us. And we really griped about it, because we were filling out data sheets and filling out labels and other labels and other labels and double and triple wrapping the boxes and labeling the wrappings as we put them on, and doing all this stuff. The one time I ever had to go down to the burial ground—it’s funny, some jobs some people would catch all the time. You might be there for years and there was things you never got to do because you were never assigned to do them. One of those was taking our low-level waste boxes to the burial ground and throwing them out of the truck into the trench. So we had spent all this time doing all this accounting, doing all this labeling, making sure the packaging was all okay and everything was very carefully set up and everything. And we get to the disposal trench in 200 West Area. So we’re carefully—you’re not supposed to damage the box—it’s a cardboard box inside of a couple plastic bags. You’re not supposed to damage it. We’re just taking them and dropping them over the side out of the back of a truck. And here comes a truck from somewhere in West Area, one of the construction things going on or something. A dump truck with wood and broken plaster and glass and a few rad boxes and stuff. They just wave him up there, and the dump truck backs up and just—pbbt—dumps, and drives away. No paperwork, no nothing. I don’t know what was behind it; maybe there were reasons it was like that. But that was just a contrast that really griped me. But they did a good job at N of explaining why the way we were doing things had to change. Why the new way was actually better, what it meant for stopping releases to the environment, reducing them. Things you should do to lower your impact, lower the amount of waste. That’s where I first really started getting it, and it slowly moved into other places so that things were much more accounted for and controlled. These days, it’s very controlled, it’s very different. It’s much more secure. Nobody uses those rad boxes anymore. The only place I ever see them is in rad update training every year. Everything’s in certified drums. It’s treated certain ways. It’s all measured and accounted for, and inspected before it goes to its final burial to make sure that there is nothing in there that isn’t supposed to be. There’s a whole entire facility in West Area that’s devoted to doing that. Waste Receipt And Processing, WRAP. They get in drums of waste from all over the site, and they do NDA on them to find out how radioactive they are and what kind of radioactive stuff is in them. They X-ray them. If necessary, they will open them up, take everything out, sort it out, so that the stuff that isn’t supposed to be there is out, and then repackage them properly. So everything is very concentrated on making sure that any waste products, whether radioactive or chemical or even domestic waste, is handled and treated properly. And that has really exhibited a standard growth curve. Because when I first started in the ‘80s, there was a lot of resistance, both kind of social and institutional, and among the groups. But the people who understood it just kept pushing, kept pushing, kept getting the message out. Gradually, you saw the same kind of acceptance go up like that, like a normal growth curve. That’s just the way things are done now. So that part’s a lot better. I never really experienced any untoward activities. We were never told to go dump stuff in a hidden place. We were never told to dispose of something in an unapproved way. But a lot of the stuff that we were around wasn’t as controlled or properly packaged or set up as it would be today. That’s all to the good. You used to be able to go just about everywhere and there would be contaminated patches. A lot of those have been cleaned up. People no longer are allowed to just stick something out here and just put a rope around it and call it an accumulation area. There’s very high degree of control and accountability. The job I’m in now with Central Plateau Surveillance and Maintenance, they have a responsibility for all the old retired facilities, the old canyon buildings. And there’s a lot of auxiliary buildings around those and a lot of waste sites and old cribs and trenches. Most of what they do is repeatedly inspecting all that stuff, making sure that anything that’s present is properly in place, that it’s allowed to be there, that they know what it is, that nothing’s going wrong. So that’s all really a lot better. In all of society and all of industry, things are much safer now. People understand chemical hazards especially. We used to be able to go get stuff out of the tool crib that isn’t even allowed to be sold anymore, because it’s carcinogenic. But there, it was an electric cleaner called Swish that was mostly carbon tetrachloride. And you could just get a spray can of it and go and clean things off with it, or kill spiders. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: So I’d love to come back to this, but just to make sure we get to it before we run too long on time, could we step back to your childhood in Richland--
Carson: Sure.
O’Reagan: --and what it was like growing up in Richland? Could you tell us a bit about that?
Carson: Well. Virtually everyone I know, their folks worked in the Area. They never talked about what went on what there or what they did. My dad talked about some fire department stuff sometimes.
O’Reagan: Was that the fire department on the site or just—
Carson: The Hanford Fire Department, yeah. Nobody ever really knew what was going on out there. The closed-mouth, closed-city—you know. I always thought it was amazing. Very early in the morning, my mom would drive me to a baby-sitter down in south Richland. And I always thought it was amazing, she could look out to the northwest and she would tell me which plant was running. I didn’t know they were reactors; I didn’t know what it meant. But she could look at the steam plumes, because even though they weren’t modern reactors with cooling towers, they still had retention ponds before the water went back in the river, and those would steam. She could just look at tell me which plant was running. And I always thought that was amazing. We had a fairly—at least in my experience anyway, as a middle class, my folks were both working, lived in a nice neighborhood up near Spalding School. We had a very safe, nice environment to grow up in, a good childhood. Just a lot of playing in the street, going over and playing in the playgrounds. You go to school, you have all your friends there, and you go do stuff. Not a lot different than most places, but—I loved then, and I still do, and unless you grow up in a place like here, you don’t get the chance to just walk in the desert, way away from anything where it’s really quiet, and you got all the sagebrush that just smells so good. And you just walk way out there somewhere, and no trees around, and just sky and desert and total silence. That’s something you really only get growing up here and somewhere very like this. Everybody knew about the Area, but never talked about it. I do remember, I was in first grade, I believe, when the Mobile Whole Body Counter came to Spalding. They gave us some tours of it, and they said that some people were going to get to go through it after school. Well, I thought it would be really neat. I think what they were probably doing was running some of the teachers through it, just as environmental sampling, really. This was in—this would have been ’64, around there. About ten years after the Green Run, when there weren’t huge releases like that, but there were still some releases going on, a lot of monitoring. I waited around after school for an hour, hoping to get to run through this. They would bring people in and 20 minutes later they’d come out. I got in trouble because I was so late walking back to my babysitter’s after school because of that. But where else is something like that going to happen? The Hanford Science Center was a pretty special place. To us, it was like just an everyday thing—doesn’t everyone have a neat science museum like this? But, no, they don’t. It was no longer—I was born in 1958. So the city was no longer run by GE. But there were still people—and they were still indulged by the city government—who, if a light bulb went out, they would call up the way that they used to call GE up to come and change it. For a while, that still kind of went on, somehow. I remember the air raid siren tests. On the last—in the last week of the month, I don’t remember what day it always was. But I always remember getting kind of scared about that. There’s nothing like that sound of—Richland had three, then two, then one—of air raid sirens going off. And at that age—eight, nine—I was starting to realize what that meant. That if that ever went off for real, it was all over. It was a big deal, a really big deal, to have to go to Kennewick or Pasco, because there was only the Blue Bridge, which wasn’t the Blue Bridge then. It was green and it was called the New Bridge. And then there was that horrible frightening old green bridge that was taken out. So if you had to go to Pasco, you had to go to and through Kennewick, and then go over one of those bridges. The highway between Richland and Kennewick was—I can still remember when it was just one lane each way. There was actually a stop light at George Washington Way, because the highway came in and curved and there was a stop light at G Way before it went up to the bypass part. Right there at that intersection is where the Rose Bowl was. Everybody knew the Rose Bowl, the sewage treatment plant. Great way to be introduced to a town when you’re first coming into it. As far as I know, it was a fairly normal childhood. My friends and I, we did all the normal things. When the hydroplane races started, there was a couple weeks in the summer where all anybody wanted to do was play hydroplanes. So everybody would have their own little scraps of wood they made into a hydroplane, and you’d drag it behind your bike in the street. Or turn on a hose and set it in the gutter and go make a dam to make a big puddle you could run it through like a boat. Day sleeper signs. Everybody—almost everybody worked a rotating shift—ABCD, where you rotate, at the time, from swing shift to days to graveyard[EM1] . My dad worked a rotating shift for 17 years. Once I started it, I understood how bad it had been for him when I was young, when I was little. But you’d walk around, and in the windows, in houses, “day sleeper.” You just understood that probably most of your friends were going to live in a house just like yours if you lived in one of the Alphabet House districts. A lot of my friends had the same or very slightly different models of ranch house all up in that area. So you knew exactly where the bathroom was, you knew where the kitchen was, you knew where the light switches were, because they were all the same. That’s probably somewhat different. There were virtually no African Americans in Richland. In elementary school, I think there was two—there was a boy my age, and his sister who was a little younger. Caused me some problems, because he slapped me around one day after school, and that affected my attitude for a long time. But because there were almost no black people in Richland, I had no idea what they were like or anything. My parents, a lot of their friends were conventionally racist at the time—it would be very racist now. But at the time it was just conventional. And because there were so few of them, they all knew each other because they had their own community that they would get together. I just thought that it was natural that every black person in the world knew every other one. Because they would always say, hi, how are you, and talk to each other like they knew each other. I thought that was normal. So I don’t know how common that is across all of the US, but it was certainly true here. Because Kennewick was a restricted city, Richland was mostly a city for somewhat upper level workers at Hanford, Pasco—East Pasco was where most of the African American people and the Hispanic immigrants went. It was always used as a term of horror—oh my god, we have to go by East Pasco. I’ve been there, now. It’s people with houses and neighborhoods and kids and dogs. At the time, it was just hell to be—this horrible thing. So I just—I grew up with that. Everybody knew the same things about everything, and believed the same way. That was really about it.
O’Reagan: Was going to college when you first sort of left this bubble, if you will?
Carson: Yeah. I went to Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma, which—I grew up in the Lutheran Church. Really white. Going to PLU wasn’t really all that far outside the bubble. There was a little bit, because there was a very large contingent of Taiwanese kids going to school there. I tried to be all friendly and stuff—it was my first experience with the fact that other people can dislike you, too. So that was a problem. But that was—it was a good experience. It was being away from here, seeing some different things, the way different people lived. Met my wife. So that was a really good thing. But at the time, even though growing up here, I still didn’t really know a lot about Hanford or the nuclear industry, I knew a little more than when I was a kid—but not really that much. So I had no real good arguments or rebuttals for the people who—there in the mid ‘70s were already rabidly, no nukes, no nukes. Get rid of Hanford. Clean it up and throw it away. So that was kind of frustrating. There was one thing I was glad when I got hired on out here, I finally had a chance to learn all this stuff. Other stuff growing up here really is just things based on being here in this area. The place to go if you were going to go ride motorcycles or shoot your bow and arrow or pellet guns or whatever, you went down behind the cemetery along the Yakima River in Richland.
O’Reagan: Oh yeah.
Carson: Later on that became a place to go when people would go have keggers or wanted to go smoke or make out or whatever, that was a popular place. I never got invited to do any of those things, so I was only ever down there with my motorcycle. I do remember, as I moved into high school, I started to understand the feeling of isolation that Richland had. Because we had been not really a closed, secret city like a lot of the ones in the Soviet Union were, but just like a cloak of invisibility over all we did here. Nobody ever really knew much about us. I was there when Richard Nixon flew in to authorize Fast Flux Test Facility. He had flown into Walla Walla on Air Force One, because at the time to the Pasco airport couldn’t service a plane that large. And then took the Air Force One helicopter and they landed in front of the PNL sandcastle and chopped down a couple trees. I’ll always remember that, because it came down and just—limbs were flying all over the place. He stood—something you wouldn’t see anymore. He was all by himself. He didn’t have a retinue behind him, around him. The Secret Service was sort of out there, but they weren’t really a visible presence. He just went and stood on the steps and addressed people and talked about stuff and announced FFTF and what was going to go on and everything. That night on the CBS News, Walter Cronkite talked about how Richard Nixon made a stop in Walla Walla and then flew to Alaska to meet with the Japanese emperor. It was his first trip to the United States since World War II. Mentioned nothing at all about what happened here, which was really far more important than a very minor diplomatic meeting that lasted two hours or something. I then did start thinking about, and I noticed a lot of that isolation. People around here just got used to never being paid attention to, to never having anyone know where they were or what went on here. So a lot of worlds kind of shrunk down to just here. You just—your church, your softball league, your friends, the hydroplane races, and that was the extent of life. So I am glad that things have really expanded out and the diversification that first started being talked about in the ‘70s has really taken hold, and so much more is done here now than just relying, almost 100%, on money from Hanford. I think if there was another bust—another one of the endless boom and bust cycles that Hanford has had over the years—if there was another big bust at Hanford, I think the Tri-Cities could probably pull through it—Tri-Cities and surrounding areas—could pull through it really very well.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm.
Carson: So that’s a big difference from growing up here, is the fact that now we’re somebody. We’re a known quantity, we’re actually a desired destination for many different reasons. We’re known for many different things. Not just, oh, all that secret stuff that nobody knows about.
O’Reagan: I understand you volunteered at the CREHST Museum for a while. What was important to you about the history of the area that got you to do that?
Carson: The fact that I was—that was in the six months that I was first laid off. I was trying to get contract writer work. That necessitated my becoming a business and getting a business license. So I ended up starting my own little computer consulting business. Because I did that, I heard from a friend of a friend who worked at CREHST that they were having computer problems. So I went down and I volunteered. I said, hey, I’ll be glad to come through and try and clean stuff and help you. And then in talking with the director, Gwen Leth—she started asking questions and found out all the other stuff I could do. So she really wanted me, and so I started working there at CREHST. They were fairly newly open, and I rewrote some of the displays, because they were not well-written. They had errors and they weren’t interesting. So I did that. I wrote an article for a magazine about CREHST—by request—that never got published. I helped with the computers, helped with some of their equipment. I just did stuff for Gwen. I was the publisher of their paper newsletter for several years. They would send me this stuff to do, and I’d put it all together into desktop publishing and did that. So that was fun, they were great people. I learned a lot about community education and what it meant and what it could be. I got to see all the neat behind-the-scenes stuff that is always the coolest thing about anything. The people there were just so wonderful that when I went back to work, I still kept in touch doing things like the newsletter, and then when I got laid off again, I would just go down and start back down there. Volunteer sometimes 40 hours a week, sometimes just a couple days. Whatever was happening that I could do, depending on what was going on with my daughter and stuff like that. So I had desperately missed the Hanford Science Center. I talked about that earlier, that it was such a great place to go, especially as I learned more and then could see more of what was actually being told me at the science center. But then when it closed down, I desperately missed having that there. Because I wanted to take my daughter to it, I wanted to keep doing it. I had volunteered to do some stuff at the science center, just before it closed when it was still in the Federal Building. So being able to help resurrect a lot of that, keep it going there at CREHST, and even provide input on what they were going to show next and things. And seeing how all of that was coming together and the efforts that they made to really reach out to the community and continue the education and the keeping the history. And keeping the artifacts alive and just being able to go in there and wander through anytime I wanted was just really great. And the REACH center is a fabulous, wonderful place. But at the time I was working at CREHST, CREHST was still going to be the lead, and they had plans for a facility about the same size down on Columbia Point that the REACH part of it was going to be a small part of the CREHST Museum. Turned out the other way. But CREHST—even just the efforts that people made to make it come about, the people that got together behind the scenes and worked with DoE, worked with the community to get funding, worked just to make things happen like moving the building of the FFTF Visitors Center from out there down to where it is now. That’s what that building is. The below-stairs part was new, but the superstructure is the old FF Visitors Center. So getting that to happen was not simple, was not easy, wasn’t cheap. But they kept at it and they did it. So that kind of dedication inspired me to do more along that line, like this.
O’Reagan: Okay. Well there are always questions I don’t know to ask. Interesting incidents, or themes you wanted to talk about or anything like that that comes to mind that you thought might be worth mentioning.
Carson: In terms of work, or in terms of growing up here, or just anything?
O’Reagan: Either or both.
Carson: One of the things I did at N Reactor was I became one of the designated evacuation bus drivers. At the time, because facilities were manned around the clock, and it was 43-and-a-half miles from my driveway to the N Reactor parking lot—a long ways out there—you had to have some way to evacuate everyone that was there, in case there was an actual big accident. On regular dayshift, all of the buses that brought everybody from town were all there. But there were, parked off on the side, a couple of the old, old buses that were there strictly to be evacuation buses. They didn’t have enough drivers to have one on every shift to make sure that was covered, so they just enlisted operators. We got special training in how to drive the old buses and stuff. So on weekend dayshifts or sometimes on swing shift, and even on graveyard a few times, if everything, all the work was caught up, there was nothing going on, we would go out and practice driving. Just drive around all over. So I got to see a lot of the Area that’s really not terrifically accessible now. Because, man, those buses will go a lot of places. They love a gravel road. Drove all over, saw the Hanford Bank. Drove down, found the big boat ramp between F Area and H Area where the Hanford patrol would put their tactical boat in and out, and also where a lot of bald eagles like to hang out in the winter. Drove out to—way out by Vernita Bridge to the old warehouse, the stone warehouse that’s out there—drove out there, and drove around that. Got out and looked at it. At the time, they still had part of the old highway, the old two-road highway that led down the valley and over to Hanford and White Bluffs and serviced all the farms and everything around there. We drove on this dirt road around B Area, and then all of the sudden, here’s a beautiful paved road where the lines are bright and clear and the pavement is not cracked. So we just kept on driving. That was an exciting find.
O’Reagan: Were these evacuation plans pretty well founded already when you got there?
Carson: Oh, yeah. Yeah. I mean, you had—in case of an emergency, you had an assignment to come and grab an emergency response card. There were holders of these in the control room. Everybody was supposed to go run in there and grab one and do what it said. Just one thing, whether it was shutting down some equipment, or going and closing something up, or something. You go and do that job, come back, if you’re done then you go and get on the evacuation bus and it will leave when everybody’s accounted for. So the whole evacuation thing had been practiced and set in place for years and years. Luckily we never had to do it, except in a drill. Oh. One of the funny things—one of the first times, it was just us three or four operators going out for a practice drive without the instructor or anything. It was a really hot summer’s day on the weekend. Those buses didn’t have air conditioning. [LAUGHTER] They did have eyebrow vents—one above the driver and one above the door. And we’re driving along and all the windows are open and it’s just too hot. So one of the other guys on my shift, operator, he gets up and he says, I’m going to open these vents. And he reaches up—I was driving—and he reached up above me and opened that one. Air started coming in. And all of the sudden—he opens this one—and there was a big bird’s nest inside that vent. And the way he was, he pulled it and it went right in his face. [LAUGHTER] There was just this explosion of straw and feathers and dried bird poop and stuff. We all tried really hard not to laugh at him, but—[LAUGHTER] he even laughed at himself, so. That was another thing. I remember when Uptown sat kind of alone. There wasn’t really anything built up around it yet. The big Mormon church had been built across the street, but there was nothing else out around it. And over now where that Exxon station and the Fire & Water store and the restaurant and where Hastings is, none of that was there. There was a couple of old wooden shacks. No idea what they were. But one night, it was a fall night, and we went because my dad was there as part of the fire department. There was some kind of—I don’t know—maybe a fire prevention week celebration or something. They were going to burn the shacks down to show what it looks like when the fire department puts out a fire. So my dad was part of that. And there were hundreds and hundreds of people standing in the Uptown parking lot, watching as they set these two shacks on fire. They let them burn for quite a long time, then they came out and put them out, and there was a lot of ooh, ahh. That’s a fairly early thing. One thing that happened through the ‘60s that I took for granted and then didn’t realize when it stopped until several years later—there were all kinds of traveling exhibitions that did come through here from NASA or the Army or the Navy or the Air Force. They would come and bring an exhibit and set up like in the Uptown parking lot or somewhere. They would be there for a day or two and give their spiel and you could go into their trailers and see what they had. Then they would pack up and move on to somewhere else. There were a lot of those. One that I wish I would have done, but at the time I didn’t think it was important—the X-37 Dyna-Soar—it was a first lifting body design for a recovery vehicle, or an early design for a space shuttle in the ‘60s—to go right around the Gemini program. It was eventually going to become a part of the Army’s or Air Force’s manned space laboratory program that never got off the ground. And they brought the vehicle around on a big trailer with a little trailer museum to talk about it and stuff, and I wish I would have gone to see that. But I was too busy doing something else that I thought was more important. So all kinds of stuff like that would come through. There was always—Griggs brought in a lot of these little, cheap tawdry little traveling exhibits and things. Bonnie and Clyde’s death car showed up there on a trailer when I was a kid. Right after the movie had come out and I was just really fascinated by the whole gangster thing. So of course I made my mom and dad go all the way over to Pasco to Griggs to see that. One I felt bad about then and I still feel bad—they had a dolphin that was in like a ten-foot above ground swimming pool, just barely moving. You paid $0.50 to see that, and I just felt bad. And just the kind of stuff that doesn’t really happen anymore. There was a lot of that still. Because the Tri-Cities, I think, moved into the ‘60s a little more slowly than other places.
O’Reagan: Well, this has all been fascinating. I know our battery starts running out around this point.
Carson: Okay.
O’Reagan: So I guess we’ll have to wrap up now. But it really has been great.
Carson: Great.
O’Reagan: So thanks a lot.
Carson: You’re very, very welcome, and I would be happy to come back and talk more about other things. Anything you’d like to ask questions about.
O’Reagan: Fantastic, thanks a lot.
Carson: Great. Thank you.
Douglas O’Reagan: First of all, would you please pronounce and spell your name for us?
Stanley Goldsmith: Stanley Goldsmith.
O’Reagan: Okay, thank you. My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral history interview with Mr. Goldsmith here on March 21st, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. I’ll be talking with Mr. Goldsmith about his experiences working at Hanford. Okay. Could you tell us about your childhood up through—just briefly tell us about your life up through college and entering the Manhattan Project.
Goldsmith: At Hanford here, or at Los Alamos?
O’Reagan: Before that. Your life before the Manhattan Project. Where were you born?
Goldsmith: Virginia. Norfolk, Virginia. In 19—March 25th, 1924.
O’Reagan: Can you tell us about your life before the Manhattan Project? Up through college?
Goldsmith: Well I—
O’Reagan: Why don’t I move closer, that might—
Goldsmith: I was raised in Norfolk and went to Virginia Tech to take—to get a chemical engineering degree. I entered Virginia Tech in 1941, and I graduated in 1945.
O’Reagan: And then you entered the Army, is that right?
Goldsmith: After graduation, I was drafted into the Army, and assigned to the Manhattan District of Engineers. Eventually, after waiting in several different places for my clearance, I wound up at Los Alamos, where I worked from 1945 to ’47—1947.
O’Reagan: Did you just find out about what the goal was once you arrived?
Goldsmith: Yes. After I got to Los Alamos, we were told what the objective was, and all about the problems. This was different than the other nuclear sites were. This mission was kept secret.
O’Reagan: What element of the project did you work on at Los Alamos?
Goldsmith: At Hanford?
O’Reagan: At Los Alamos.
Goldsmith: At Los—I worked on processing the uranium-235 for the first atomic bomb.
O’Reagan: What did that involve?
Goldsmith: That involved converting uranium oxide that had been enriched with 235. That involved processing it from an oxide to a fluoride so it could be reduced to a metal. And then machined into the shapes they needed for the bombs.
O’Reagan: Were you figuring out your process as you went?
Goldsmith: No. The process had been pretty well established. This was more like just individual laboratories processing individual amounts of u-235 to get it to the point where it could be reduced to metal.
O’Reagan: Who did you work with?
Goldsmith: What?
O’Reagan: Did you work with anybody?
Goldsmith: Yes.
O’Reagan: Who else was in your lab?
Goldsmith: That was a long time ago. Let’s see. There was Al Drumrose and a Purcell—I don’t remember his first name. There were two other—well, maybe a few other more people. But I guess I just don’t recall the names.
O’Reagan: So what brought you to Hanford?
Goldsmith: What got me to Hanford? I left Los Alamos to get a graduate degree in chemical engineering. When I graduated, I got a job here at Hanford as a nuclear—as a reactor engineer.
O’Reagan: How did you hear about the job?
Goldsmith: Well, I knew about Hanford, and I sent out letters of inquiry about positions that may be open here and at other sites. And I got the position here in 1950.
O’Reagan: So you wanted specifically to work at Hanford or other sites—what was—did you have specific goals of what you wanted to do?
Goldsmith: Well, I liked what Hanford had to offer. So there was no question about that. They satisfied what I was looking for.
O’Reagan: What were your first impressions of the area?
Goldsmith: Well, it was shocking to say the least. It was like out in the wilderness. And when I arrived in 1950, General Electric operated the whole site, including the housing and all of the utilities and so forth. They assigned me a house that—I don’t remember what the rent was, but it was very inexpensive. And then in 1960—let’s see, it was about 1960—between ’61 and ’65—they divided the work at Hanford among several—among four or five contractors. One of them operated the laboratory, one of them operated the nuclear reactor, and one the separations plant. I stayed with the laboratory.
O’Reagan: Could you walk us through an average day when you first—say in 1950 or ’52—what sort of work were you doing?
Goldsmith: What sort of work?
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm.
Goldsmith: The average day—you want me to start back there?—is that my worksite was located about 20 miles from Richland. You could take a bus operated by the plant, or you could drive. But you had to go through an entrance gate—entrance—not a gate, but a station. And then we had to show our passes—badges. Then we went out to the site where we were working. In this case, at that time, I was working at F Reactor. As a reactor engineer, I rotated positions at the different reactors. So the work was—you asked me about the work—the work was, I thought, extremely interesting. And I felt very fortunate in that I felt like I was on the forefront of a new technology. By the time I got up here, there was a lot of emphasis on the peaceful use of nuclear power. I got involved in work for improving the nuclear fuels that was currently being used. This was because I was with Battelle then, and Battelle had a joint contract with the DoE where they could use part of their facilities—well, the major part of the facilities were for DoE work. But they also had a contract which they called 1831, and that was for doing private work for industrial corporations involved in nuclear work. I spent a lot of time on that, trying to—my group was trying to improve the performance of the fuel. Wanted to get higher powers. So that the fuel—we could produce fuel at a faster rate—I’m sorry, produce plutonium at a faster rate by increasing the power of the reactors. I worked as a reactor engineer for about four years. Then I took the position of manager of nuclear fuels research and development. We worked on developing or designing nuclear fuels, analyzing the fuels that had been used in the reactors to see what improvements could be made. Let’s see. We had a lot of interactions with the commercial fuel designers. As I mentioned, there were two contract billers. And this was done on the 1831, which allowed Battelle to use some facilities that were DoE’s—some facilities on the plant in their private work. So I’m trying to think about the timing, now. The main—after working on DoE projects for about five years, I worked on a private project that was sponsored—that was funded by Exxon—they’re now called Exxon Nuclear. They were interested in getting into the nuclear business, because they had a lot of claims on land that have uranium. They wanted—they decided to utilize those claims. Get the uranium, then processing it for use as nuclear fuels. So at that time, I think there was only one Exxon employee involved in this. They took over part—a major part of that, as Exxon Nuclear—took over a major part of Battelle. We were moved out of the buildings that DoE built, and we were located in Uptown in Richland in the industrial—just completely isolated from the other nuclear work that was going on. We designed a nuclear fuel for Exxon Nuclear which evolved into their first commercial fuels. During that time, Exxon Nuclear began to have their own staff. But we stayed with them until about 19—early 1970s, we worked with them. And then their own employees could take over from then. After that, I worked on fuel cycles. On seeing if we could design different types of fuels with different types of materials, like thorium, on the fuel cycles. And we—let’s see. This was work for DoE. And we continued that work—my group continued working for DoE. They were working on the nuclear reactor regulation, on NRC. We had projects with NRC. Our main project was DoE. And here again, I was telling you--[COUGH] Excuse me. I was still involved in nuclear fuel development. We did a lot of work for NRC and also for DoE. This was on helping them understand and approve their review of new nuclear fuels in reactors—nuclear fuel design. So we were working on both sides of the street: with the regulatory side, and the DoE development side. And then in 1980—excuse me just one minute—I should have jotted these dates down. In late 1980s, I worked on a DoE program on nuclear fuels—on nuclear fuel cycles, where we were looking at different way of utilizing the nuclear fuels so that they would last longer and that they would be safer. Then after that, I was assigned to Battelle Columbus, because I had worked through this project. It turned out quite successful. And Battelle Columbus had a contract with DoE to perform research on finding a nuclear repository—nuclear burial site. I was the Battelle manager of that program for about four years. We looked at the—examined the potential nuclear sites in New Mexico, Louisiana, Georgia, and here at Hanford. This program went on for about four or five years, and then DoE selected the Nevada site at Los Alamos—not Los Alamos—at Las Vegas for the site to bury the spent nuclear fuels. That program lasted for quite a while, but I left it in 19—after four years, because I didn’t want to move down to Texas, which was one of the sites that was being considered. So I moved back here to the Hanford. I worked on miscellaneous programs after I came back to Hanford. A lot of them had to do with the nuclear fuel cycle and the nuclear waste disposal—nuclear waste treatment and disposal. And I did that type of work for about four years, and then I retired in 1987? 19—yes, in 1987. And I left Battelle, and went to work for an environmental engineering company in Washington, DC, who was working on the same sort of thing. They were technical support contracted to DoE headquarters. So I was there until—let’s see. I was there until about 1994. And then I had to just—I still continued to work even though I was retired from Battelle. I had actually moved back to Battelle and was hired by Battelle as a consultant so that I could retain my pension and the salary for the job. That went on until about 1992. And finally, I retired for good. [LAUGHTER] So, that’s a very brief and sketchy description of what I did here at Hanford. One thing that—a little sideline you might be interested in. You asked about what Hanford was like. When I first came to work here, there were very few facilities that could be used at Hanford. I was not—I didn’t need anything special to do my work; I didn’t need a specially designed building structure. But I did do work on design and that work was done—the group was assigned to the Hanford High School. [LAUGHTER] Let’s see, where else? As I said, I had worked at most of the reactors that were operating at that time. Oh, there’s one thing that—I want to back up a little bit until about 1975. I got in—my group got involved in plutonium recycle. This was a program that DoE sponsored, a fairly large program, in which we were trying to recycle the plutonium that was not being used in bombs. Plutonium—to show that it could be used in nuclear power reactors. And we actually had a plutonium recycle test reactor built here onsite to test the fuels, the mixed oxide. We called it mixed oxide fuel because it’s plutonium and uranium oxide. And the reactor, which was the PRTR, Plutonium Recycle Test Reactor, was designed specifically to try to test, get information on mixed oxide fuels. Let’s see. I moved around a lot. After about five years on that program, I moved on, I think, to working for Exxon Nuclear, to assist them in their program. Now, Exxon Nuclear was so sensitive about their work being exposed by DoE that they moved many of the facilities that they used at Battelle, they moved them to different sections. We had offices at the old—what was it—the woman who had all of this fabric stuff? It was in Richland, it’s right in downtown Richland. And we took the top floor of one of the buildings that had already been built. And of course, there, we only did calculations because they had no facilities for taking care of irradiated material. That was an interesting time, too, when we were off on our own, so to speak.
O’Reagan: They did that because they were afraid of the Department of Energy taking their knowledge?
Goldsmith: Well, they were concerned there would be some link—crossover—inadvertently, perhaps. The DoE could claim that some of the work done by Exxon Nuclear was done by DoE. And they didn’t want that to happen, so they completely isolated themselves.
O’Reagan: Did that hurt your work?
Goldsmith: Did that work?
O’Reagan: Did it impact your work, being isolated like that?
Goldsmith: I’m sorry?
O’Reagan: Being isolated, did that impact your work? Did it slow your work, or did it cause any problems?
Goldsmith: No, it didn’t cause any problems. We were able to move our whole group out into the new facility in downtown Richland. So were other groups—nuclear physics group, and the other groups that went into the fuel cycle. But that was an interesting time, because we were really developing commercial nuclear fuels. The design that we had come up with was the first nuclear fuels that Exxon Nuclear had marketed. They marketed to—I’ll think of that in a minute. But anyway, we got involved in—since I mentioned earlier that there were very few Exxon Nuclear employees involved in this program—that we actually got involved with the Exxon Nuclear people who went out to market their product. That was at the time when we ran into some very interesting commercial situations.
O’Reagan: What makes one nuclear fuel better than another nuclear fuel?
Goldsmith: Well, they were made primarily from uranium, and they were oxides. They were made into compressed pellets. Now, some of these were different—some of these were specifically made for boiling-water reactors, and others were for pressurized-water reactors. There was a design difference in the two reactors. One of them—the power level was about the same, but the design of the fuel and the way it was structured was different. That made a difference in the fuel for the two types of reactors. After we got involved in working for Exxon Nuclear, when our contract with them expired, we became very much involved in working only for DoE and NRC. I think I mentioned that to you. We—oh, we had contracts—my group had contacts with practically all the commercial nuclear fuel design people, and we provided them design support, and we did testing for them. So we were pretty much involved in the nuclear industry by then.
O’Reagan: How secretive or how classified was your work?
Goldsmith: After—when I moved to Hanford, the classification was almost—was very slim. It was very lax, because with the dropping of the atom bombs, then all of that came out, what the bomb was made of, and some ideas what the design of the bomb was. So by that time, it had pretty well leaked out, the security was relaxed on that, also. So that wasn’t—that was no longer a big problem. There were still some residual problem in security. In fact, the Russians, of course, wanted to get into the nuclear industry business. They wanted to know—well, this backed up into the weapons program—Cold War program. They wanted to know what powers we read our plants at—how many megawatts. And they actually took measurements of the Columbia River and calculated from that what powers we were obtaining. So that was when the Cold War was going on.
O’Reagan: How did you hear about that?
Goldsmith: Hear about what?
O’Reagan: The Russians testing the waters.
Goldsmith: Oh. I think we had—our security people kept an eye on what was going on with the Russians. And this is one of the things they found out.
O’Reagan: Let’s see. What was life in the Tri-Cities like back in the 1950s and ‘60s outside of work?
Goldsmith: Well, it was pretty plain in a way—several. Because there weren’t many things to do. There was only one theater, and there may have been one or two grocery stores, and I think there was one real estate agent. That was the case with most of the various businesses. There was maybe one, or two at the most. There was not much in the way of entertainment. I mentioned that we had one theater. People—the workers at the plant—developed their own entertainment—sources of entertainment. They formed all kinds of different clubs. One of the most popular club was the bridge club—competitive bridge. We played that in one of the commercial buildings that had an open space that we could use. Another was the Richland Little Theater. And then there was a Richland opera—Light Opera, also. And there were—of course, golf was a big activity, because there were already several different golf courses. So that was taking off. There were other activities like that where you had to build them yourself. You may have gotten a little support from DoE, but you couldn’t depend on it. So we had to make our own source of entertainment and relaxation.
O’Reagan: Did you play bridge? What was your entertainment?
Goldsmith: Yeah, I got involved in playing bridge. This was duplicate bridge. I don’t know if you’re familiar with that, but that’s a form of bridge that is competitive. It’s still—it’s played in such a way that everybody—each couple gets to play against another couple, and they rotate during the evening, so that other couples play the same cards. The competitive part comes in as to who comes up with the best score at the end of the evening. [LAUGHTER] And that was quite controversial. Particularly when a man and woman were partners—they would—they had no shame, or no hesitant to getting into arguments at the bridge table. So that was a big deal. Even now there’s a lot of bridge clubs that are playing here—duplicate bridge is what it’s called.
O’Reagan: Where did you live throughout your time at Hanford, or in this area?
Goldsmith: What’s that?
O’Reagan: Where did you live? Did you move houses?
Goldsmith: Yes—well, yeah. At that time, they were building houses like mad. I lived in one of the government houses in Richland—old Richland. Then I moved into what they called a ranch house. Those were a government house that was one story, and it had three bedrooms. There was some furnishing that came with these houses. The rental on it was very nominal. And as I recall, we were provided—many of these houses, or most of them were heated by coal. DoE actually—at that time, it was actually GE who ran the town—provided free coal. They would come around periodically and dump a load of coal for you to use in your houses.
O’Reagan: Sounds dirty!
Goldsmith: Huh?
O’Reagan: Sounds dirty! Seems like it would get you messy. All the—dumping the coal, is there a coal dust that would come up?
Goldsmith: What’s that?
O’Reagan: When you burned the coal, would it be dirty? Would it make a lot of smoke, I guess?
Goldsmith: Not too bad. They must have used a hard coal that gave out less smoke. I don’t know that—it wasn’t like an industrial company where they had large facilities that generated a lot of steam, a lot of smoke. This was kind of dispersed. So we didn’t have an air problem at that time. We had—now the other thing that they did to make life easier—we had our own transportation—public transportation system. You could ride on the buses that they had for free. So that was to make life easier for the employees.
O’Reagan: Must have been a lot of buses?
Goldsmith: What?
O’Reagan: Must have been a whole lot of buses.
Goldsmith: Well, most of the buses were actually used to go out to the Area—to take the workers out to the Area, because there’s where you had a lot of people to be transported. The civilians, or the private people, had—many of them had their own cars. So didn’t use the bus.
O’Reagan: Was it different when you were working on commercial energy compared to when you were working for the Department of Energy?
Goldsmith: Yes, there were quite a lot of differences. We were able to produce fuel designs and produce developmental fuels in a much shorter time than DoE, because there was a lot of paperwork involved in going through the DoE process. In fact, one of the DoE people at headquarters who was in charge of reactor development said he was very upset because he couldn’t—he was in charge of the fast reactor, the FFTF. And they were struggling to try to get the thing going. He was very upset because he couldn’t understand how we were able to get fuel for Exxon Nuclear, and they were still struggling. They’d been struggling for a long time. [LAUGHTER] So he wanted to know what we were doing. Well, what it was, we didn’t have to jump through all the loops that you did.
O’Reagan: Was it finding the uranium, the procurement that was the problem? Or just write paperwork?
Goldsmith: No, the problem that DoE had was that they had a bureaucracy that kind of controlled things. And that always slows things down. It took them about twice as long to develop the fuel for the Fast Flux Reactor than it did us for the commercial reactors.
O’Reagan: Hmm. Let’s see. Have the Tri-Cities changed much in the time you’ve been living here?
Goldsmith: Oh, yeah. It’s been amazing how it’s grown. The Tri-Cities now is like a normal city. The nuclear influence is much less, because we have so many other businesses now involved for our economic base. As I had mentioned earlier, there were usually one kind or maybe two types of business or entertainment or something like that. When the commercial people came in, they opened as many stores as they wanted, or that were needed. So that was one big thing. Another big thing was the housing development, the real estate. I remember up until 19—let’s see, about 1965, GE was in charge of everything, including building houses. [COUGH] Excuse me, I’ve got a cold. When they opened up the lands, part of the land, surrounding territory was owned by the Department of the Interior—it was government owned. And then they made those available to the public for building houses and other types of structures. The demand for these things was great enough, so the building was really at a peak. Now, even now, you take a look at the housing—the amount of housing that’s going on, and take a look at the commercial businesses, like drive down George Washington Way, you see all these new businesses or restaurants or that sort of thing. So it’s really changed. Richland was all on this side of the Columbia River. That was one of the boundaries for Richland. But then the Columbia River curved around, and there were—on the other side of the river, there was nothing but sagebrush. But some entrepreneurs had bought land there, and then when they started to build, they had lots of land to build on. That was no problem. There’s a whole new part of Richland that’s on the other side of the river that wasn’t there until probably about 1965 or so. That’s when it started. So there’s been a growth of industry. The highways have been developed. There’s new industry that’s come in. So we’ve developed quite a good industrial base now, and it’s still growing.
O’Reagan: Are there any—to ask an open-ended question, are there any moments or stories that come to mind that you think are worth telling about your time working at Hanford?
Goldsmith: Well, I told you about how we had, early on, we had offices at the Hanford High School. That was—we made a lot of fun of that, when anyone called you at the high school, we said this is the Goldsmith class of ’41-’42. There was a lot of—amazing amount of work that was done on animals to use those as some of the basic studies for the effect of radiation on animals. Now we don’t have any of those studies going on. But let’s see. I’m trying to think of something that is unusual. A lot of it was—practically all of it was unusual.
O’Reagan: How about something mundane, but it’s still kind of unusual? Or maybe a day in the life later on in your work?
Goldsmith: Well, I mentioned the general public had to develop their own recreational activities. We have—I don’t know—we have a lot of parks and fields. Like some of those baseball parks are very good. I didn’t appreciate how good they were until—I have some relatives who live in Maryland, and we visited them, and we went to see their children’s baseball game. But they had just an open field, nothing like we have. So that’s been—the recreational things have improved quite a bit. Of course the boating is still a big deal. I really—as I said, there was so much growth going on that it’s hard to pick out any one area. Excuse me. The recreational areas have increased. You know, we’ve grown more; we’ve built at least two new golf courses, and these were very good golf courses. Then the other thing is some of the building of private homes around the golf courses. That has been—we live in a community there that probably has—what would you say, Joyce, about 800 people? Something of that sort. And it’s very nice. There’s two such communities. One of them is called Canyon Lakes, where we live, and the other is called Meadow Springs. That’s been developed—highly developed. We both have very nice golf courses.
Joyce: After you retired, didn’t you work with the people from Israel, the First Defenders?
Goldsmith: Oh, yeah, that was an interesting little program. That was after I retired, and I was re-hired. Battelle got a program from the State Department to help—to develop ways for the First Defenders on a terrorist site could make a better determination of what happened. And they did this on a worldwide basis. Mainly, underdeveloped countries, but one country that they had and they were anxious to get involved because they had firsthand information—they were anxious to get Israelis involved. Because they had a lot of first defenders. The program consisted of sending a team of people over to Israel and tell them what the program was about. And then Israel was to send about 20 people over here for a month. And then we were using the training—the HAMMER facility to do the training. I got involved because when the Israelis came over, they asked me, since I’m Jewish, they asked me if I would help trying to make them feel comfortable and so forth, take care of their dietary laws. And again, they were very pleased. And it was fun, it was interesting to see how they had become sensitized to terrorism. For instance, they stayed at one of the hotels out there. It’s right outside of Columbia Center Mall. And early morning, a bus would pick them up and take them out to the HAMMER site. After about two or three days, the bus driver said—no, someone said are we going to take any different routes? And the bus driver thought they meant for sightseeing. But they didn’t want to establish a pattern for terrorists to see what their schedule was. So they finally got him to change the route out to Hanford itself. But that was interesting, because the view of the Israelis who had been submitted to so much terrorism and the view of the other countries that we trained but who had not been submitted were completely different. Like night and day. So that was interesting experience. They show you the difference between our view of being careful about terrorism. As I said, these people were housed—excuse me. These people were housed in one of the hotels close to the Columbia Center—close to the Columbia Center Mall. They would go into the mall, and they were appalled to see that people were allowed to go in and out of the mall carrying all kinds of backpacks and all kinds of packages where it’s not being inspected. Because in Israel, they inspected anyone who was carrying a package of any sort. And they would be examined. So that was an interesting insight on how the different countries treat terrorism.
O’Reagan: And the training was about how to respond to a nuclear accident, or a crisis?
Goldsmith: Well, this program was called the First Defenders. And these people were doctors, they were scientists, they were firemen and so first. They were a mixture of who would come to the site where an attack had been made. That’s why they called them the First Defenders. They—let’s see, what was I going to say? They were very—the ones that were really involved in anti-terrorism were very conscientious and good about it. We had some interesting things that arose as part of this program. As I said, there were nations from all over the world that were involved to a certain extent. And we had the Indians, from India, coming over, spending a month. They were put up in the Hanford House—Red Lion Hanford House. They got a call one day from someone at the Hanford House wanting to know if we could talk to these people about how to keep the shower curtains inside of the showers, because they would keep them out and they would flood the whole area. So there were strange incidences like that. I’m sorry, Joyce?
Joyce: About when Bill Wiley was here and you worked at Hanford Battelle in Quality Assurance. Did you share any of that?
Goldsmith: The quality--?
Joyce: Uh-huh.
Goldsmith: Bill Wiley was a very—I think he was very influential and left his mark on the site, because he wanted to develop this environmental molecular laboratory, the rows of buildings out there, the new rows. And that opened up a whole new set of doors for Battelle to grow. They went into more basic stuff. Up to that time, we mainly focused on working on problems with nuclear reactors and nuclear fuels. But this was completely different from that. This was basic science that these laboratories allowed us to get involved in. And it’s opened up a whole new area. I think Battelle, and Hanford in general, has benefited from it, because they get a lot of extra programs that they wouldn’t have before.
O’Reagan: Were you involved with these basic science programs?
Goldsmith: No, I started in nuclear fuels and nuclear reactors most of the time I was here. But I didn’t get into any of the basic science programs.
O’Reagan: Did you want to say anything about this Oppenheimer letter, maybe introduce it for us?
Goldsmith: He was a very nice guy, and he was very considerate, and everybody liked him. He was very friendly—friendly in a reserved way. He didn’t go around smacking people on the back, but you knew he was warm and he remembered names. After the peace was declared, I think it was that later date in 1945? No, not 1945. At any rate, after the war was over, and things settled down, he sent out a letter to some of the people who worked on it that thanked them for their effort. And he sent me one of those letters. And I’m very impressed with it, because he knew what I was doing. Because he could mention that in his letter. I’ve been very proud of that letter. That’s what that is all about. It may not be much to many people, but to people who have been involved in the nuclear industry, I think it has some impact.
O’Reagan: Did you ever meet any other Los Alamos or other Manhattan Project veterans who weren’t from the Hanford site when you worked at Hanford?
Goldsmith: When I went to Hanford did I ever--?
O’Reagan: Meet any other people who had been at Los Alamos?
Goldsmith: No, there are not too many people here, just a few people here. I’m hoping—I’d like to know—I wanted to put something on Facebook about seeing how many people from Los Alamos who actually worked on the bomb still are around. Because I don’t think there are too many. I was—I got my degree when I was 21, so—and then I immediately went to work and have done that since then. But I’ve lost track of most of the people. I think they’re probably dead by now. [LAUGHTER] But if there’s something that comes up from that, I’d like to see.
O’Reagan: All right, well thank you so much.
Joyce: Thank you.
Goldsmith: You’re welcome. Thank you.
Robert Franklin: My name is Robert Franklin. I’m conducting an oral history with Jerome Martin on June 1st, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. I will be talking with Jerome Martin about his experiences working at the Hanford site and his involvement with the Herbert M. Parker Foundation. And you—just wanted to use your legal name to start out with, but you prefer to be called Jerry, right?
Jerome Martin: Yes, I do.
Franklin: Okay.
Martin: Jerome’s a little too formal. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right. Just for the technical purposes. Sure. No more, we will not mention the name—
Martin: Okay.
Franklin: Again. [LAUGHTER] So for the record, you did an interview with the Parker Foundation sometime in 2010.
Martin: I believe it was earlier.
Franklin: Or possibly earlier. And some of the Parker Foundation videos, as we know, were lost. And so this video is an attempt to recapture some of the information that would have been in that oral history, but also add some other information, and also to give you a chance to talk about your involvement with the Herbert M. Parker Foundation. So just as a introduction to whoever views this in the future. So why don’t we start in the beginning? How did you come to—you’re not from the Tri-Cities?
Martin: Not originally.
Franklin: All right. How did you come to the Tri-Cities?
Martin: Well, a little quick history, I got my bachelor’s degree at San Diego State College and then I was a radiation safety officer at San Diego State for about three years. Then I had an opportunity to go to the University of Colorado in Boulder, where, again, I was a radiation safety officer and on the faculty of the physics department. After several years there, an excellent opportunity came up for me here at Hanford with Battelle, Pacific Northwest National Laboratory. So I moved here in 1976, and had a great opportunity to work with many other more senior people here at Hanford that had been here since the beginning. One of those, of course, was Herbert M. Parker. He was former director of the laboratories under General Electric, and then retired, but stayed on with Battelle as a director. I had a few opportunities to interact with him, and was quite impressed. I have heard stories about, he was a rather demanding taskmaster. And I could kind of imagining myself trying to work for him, but it would have been a challenge.
Franklin: What do you feel is important to be known about Herbert M. Parker for the historical record?
Martin: I’ve had an opportunity to review many of his publications. They were quite professional and very well researched, and in many cases the leading authority on several topics. So I was very impressed by his publications. I didn’t have a direct opportunity to work for him, so I don’t know about his management style or other things. But that was the thing that impressed me the most, was his publications.
Franklin: What topics did Dr. Parker write on—or do his research?
Martin: His early professional career was in medical physics. He was at Swedish Hospital in Seattle for many years. Then he was called upon, as part of the Manhattan Project, to set up the safety program at Oak Ridge. He did that for about a year or so. Then he was called upon to do the same thing here at Hanford. So he came here and established the entire environmental safety and health program for Hanford. Of course he had all the right background to be able to do that, and he was able to recruit a number of really talented people to help him with that. So I think Hanford ended up with what could be known as the best environmental safety and health program, among all the early AEC and then DoE laboratories. One of the things that impressed me most by that program was the record keeping. And I had an opportunity to work on that in later years. But the way the record keeping was designed and set up and maintained was quite thorough. It was designed to be able to recreate whatever may have happened according to those records. It turned out to be very valuable in later years.
Franklin: Who instituted that record-keeping? Was that Parker?
Martin: I don’t recall the name of the individual that set it up, although I know Ken Hyde was involved very early on. He may have been at the very origin of it. But I’m sure Parker certainly influenced the rigor with which that program was established. In later years, John Jech was manager of the record keeping program, and then my good friend, Matt Lyon, was the manager of that. I worked with Matt, then, on American National Standard Institute’s standard for record keeping. We incorporated into that standard virtually all of the fundamentals that Parker had established initially.
Franklin: The first name was John—
Martin: The second manager of records was John Jech. J-E-C-H.
Franklin: Do you know if he’s still living?
Martin: No, he’s not.
Franklin: And what about Lyon?
Martin: Matt Lyon passed away about ten years ago, as did Ken Hyde.
Franklin: What’s that?
Martin: Ken Hyde—I think they all three passed away about ten years ago.
Franklin: Okay.
Martin: Yeah, give or take.
Franklin: So you mentioned that the record keeping was designed to recreate an incident as it happened. Do you know of any such—or can you speak to any such times when that record keeping system was crucial into a safety issue?
Martin: The one that comes to mind is one of the more I guess infamous incidents here at Hanford. It occurred just around the time I arrived here in 1976. It was sometimes called the McCluskey accident out at the 231-Z Building. There was an explosion in a glovebox that resulted in very significant contamination of Mr. McCluskey by americium-241. And the response to that incident, and then all the following treatment of Mr. McCluskey was very well documented. In fact, those documents then became the basis for a whole series of scientific papers that described the entire incident and all the aspects of it. So that was one major case where excellent record keeping was very valuable.
Franklin: Excellent. And what—I’m just curious now—what happened to Mr. McCluskey?
Martin: He survived for about ten years after the accident. He initially had very severe acid burns and trauma. But he was very carefully treated for that. The americium contamination that he had was gradually eliminated—not eliminated, but reduced substantially. He survived for another ten years after that incident even though he had heart trouble. I know several people that assisted in his care, and it was quite remarkable what they were able to do and what he was able to do.
Franklin: Wow. Did he ever go back to work?
Martin: No, he was 65 at the time of the accident.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Martin: So he kind of went into medical retirement at that point. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right. Yeah, I can imagine. So you said you came in 1976.
Martin: Right.
Franklin: And what did you—what was your first job, when you came to Battelle?
Martin: Well, I worked in what was called the radiation protection department, later called health physics department. My first assignment was called ALARA management. ALARA stands for maintain our radiation exposures as low as reasonably achievable. I would monitor the exposure records of Battelle workers, and watch for any that were the least bit unusually high, and then look for ways that we could reduce those exposures. And I monitored other things like average exposures and the use of dosimeters and things of that nature. The overall assignment was to generally reduce the workers’ radiation exposure.
Franklin: How successful do you feel that the department was in that effort?
Martin: I think we were very successful, and it went on for many years, even after I had that assignment. I remember one time, looking at a report that DoE put out annually on radiation exposures over all the major DoE facilities. Those average exposures, highest individual exposures, and things of that nature. Battelle and Hanford had among the lowest averages of all the other DoE facilities. So, I believe it was a very effective ALARA program here at Hanford.
Franklin: Do you know if that report was ever made publically available?
Martin: Oh, yes.
Franklin: Oh.
Martin: Yeah, those are published every year by DoE.
Franklin: Oh, great. I’ll have to find that. Sorry, just scribbling down some notes.
Martin: At one point, Battelle had a contract with the DoE headquarters to actually do the production of that report each year.
Franklin: Okay.
Martin: And I was involved in the production of it—oh, three or four years, as I recall.
Franklin: Okay. So you mentioned that you had moved on out of that program or department, so what—
Martin: Right. Well, I started getting involved in management at kind of the bottom level. I was an associate section manager, and then I got an assignment as section manager for the radiation monitoring section. I was responsible for all the radiation monitors—or as they’re now called, radiation protection technologists—the radiation monitors for Battelle and two other of the contractors here at Hanford. It was kind of ironic that I was located in what used to be the 300 Area library, and my office was on the second floor. And my office was the former office of Herbert M. Parker, when he was director of laboratories.
Franklin: Wow!
Martin: It was an honor to have that space, and recall memories of Mr. Parker.
Franklin: Wow, that’s great. And how long did you do that for?
Martin: I did that two or three years, and then another opportunity came along in 1979—no actually, it was ’79, but I guess I’d been on that management job for about a year and a half. In September of ’79, which was about three months after the Three Mile Island accident, we had an opportunity to make a proposal to the Nuclear Regulatory Commission to provide support for their staff in emergency planning work. At that time, NRC was making a big push on all the power plants, all the nuclear power plants across the country to enhance their emergency planning programs. So we began about a ten-year project with NRC to supplement their staff. The NRC established the requirement for annual emergency exercises at each of the nuclear power plants, where they had to work up a scenario, and then they would activate their emergency response staff to demonstrate that they would know how to handle that accident scenario. We served as observers. We had teams of observers with the NRC staff. We did a total of 800 of those exercises over a ten-year period.
Franklin: Wow.
Martin: So we had a lot of staff out there, doing a lot of travel.
Franklin: Yeah. So that would have been—so you said for power, would that have been for all of the power reactors in the United States?
Martin: Yes. There were 103 plants at the time.
Franklin: Wow. Did you do any in foreign countries?
Martin: I didn’t personally, but we did have some staff that went to a similar kind of program with the International Atomic Energy Agency, and visited foreign nuclear power plants. Some in France, that I recall.
Franklin: Wow. So you said 103 power plants?
Martin: In the US, yeah.
Franklin: Wow.
Martin: Actually, that was the number of reactors. There was a fewer number of plants, because many of them are two or more reactors at a site.
Franklin: Oh, okay so the 103 is the number of reactors?
Martin: I believe that’s correct. At that time.
Franklin: How did Chernobyl affect your field and your work?
Martin: That’s an excellent question, because that was in this period. Of course, the Chernobyl accident happened in 1986, and I was working directly with NRC at that time. I was project manager on that NRC contract. When Chernobyl happened, there was an immediate reaction, and NRC had to study the Chernobyl accident as well as we could, and then determine what could be applied to US power reactors by way of improvements and emergency planning. One of my managers, Bill Bair, was part of a US delegation led by DoE and NRC to actually visit the Chernobyl area shortly after the accident, interact with the Russians, and do lessons learned that was turned into a series of DoE and NRC documents that tried to extract as much useful information as we could from Chernobyl and apply it here in the US.
Franklin: Right, because if I’m not mistaken, the design of the Chernobyl reactor—there were reactors of similar design in the United States.
Martin: Not exactly. The Chernobyl reactor had no containment vessel. There were a few reactors in the US that also did not have containment vessels, but they had other safeguards. The N Reactor was one of those. Unfortunately, I would call it an overreaction of the US government to a reactor with no containment. Severe restrictions were put on N Reactor, and some re-design was required that ultimately led to the end of N Reactor. It’s interesting to note that at that point in time, which was about 1986, 1987, N Reactor had generated more electricity from a nuclear reactor than any other plant in the world. So it’s unfortunate it came to an early demise.
Franklin: And—sorry, my ignorance here on the technical aspects. You said some of them don’t have a containment vessel. What does a containment vessel look like and what role does it play, and why would there would be reactors with one and without one?
Martin: Well, N Reactor went back to the early—the late ‘50s, I believe when it was designed. It was designed similar to the other reactors here at Hanford that were intended for production of plutonium. But N Reactor was a dual purpose, in that it also generated 800 megawatts of electricity. But it had a similar kind of design to what you see out at B Plant, for example. So it didn’t have the same kind of containment vessel that other modern pressurized water reactors or other nuclear power plants have that is designed in such a way that if there is reactor core damage, any radioactivity released can be contained and not released.
Franklin: Okay.
Martin: Or released in a very controlled fashion.
Franklin: I see. Kind of like a clam shell that kind of covers the—
Martin: Well, it’s basically—yeah, in many cases a spherical kind of containment.
Franklin: Okay. Excellent. So after—obviously the demise of N Reactor, ’86, ’87, is kind of the end of operations—or I should say of product production—product and energy production on the Hanford site. So how did your job change after that? And what did you continue to do after the shutdown?
Martin: I wasn’t directly affected by N Reactor shutting down. And the other production reactors had been shut down before that, so I wasn’t really directly involved in that. But I had yet another opportunity came up that turned out to be really a challenge for me. The Pantex plant in Amarillo, Texas is the primary assembly and disassembly facility for nuclear weapons. At that time, it was managed by a company called Mason and Hanger. Mason and Hanger had that contract for many years, and DoE challenged them to rebid the contract. So Mason and Hanger reached out to Battelle for assistance in teaming on environmental health and safety. So my manager talked me into being involved, so I went down to Amarillo and visited the plant and worked with the team there on the proposal that had to be presented to DoE. And we won the contract. Of course in the fine print it said I then had to move there.
Franklin: Ah!
Martin: But it turned out great. By that time, my family was pretty well grown, kids were through college. So we moved down to Amarillo, and I went to work at Pantex. We really enjoyed that. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Amarillo’s a very nice town, a lot of nice people. The work at Pantex was very challenging. I enjoyed that very much, too.
Franklin: Great. So how long were you at the Pantex plant?
Martin: Well, I was manager of the radiation safety department down there for three years, which was my original contract obligation. During that time, we were very closely scrutinized by the Defense Nuclear Facility Safety Board, which was an organization established by Congress to be a watchdog over DoE. Their method for watching DoE was to watch the contractors very closely. So they would scrutinize everything we did, and then challenge DoE if they found something. They pushed us in a way that was good, because one of the things they promoted was professional certification. I’m a certified health physicist, certified by the American Board of Health Physics. At the time at Pantex, I was the only one we had there. But the DNFSB pushed us to add more, so I got more of my staff certified. There was a similar program for technicians called the National Registry of Radiation Protection Technologists, and at the time, we had two of my staff that were registered with NRRPT. Again, they pushed us to promote more training. By the end of that three-year period, I think we had ten of our technologists registered and certified. So we really improved the credentials of our staff. We instituted some new programs, again, related to ALARA radiation reduction. Probably the most interesting or challenging day of my life occurred down there in 1994. We were working on disassembly of the W48 program. The W48 was a tactical weapon used in—that was deployed in Europe—it was never used. But it was a very small, cylindrical nuclear weapon designed to be shot out of a 155 millimeter howitzer, which is amazing just to think about. But the plutonium pit in this device was surrounded by high explosive. It turned out to be rather difficult to disassemble this particular design of nuclear weapon. It also turned out that the plutonium pit had a relatively high dose rate, compared to others. So the workers were getting some increased exposure to their hands in the process of working on this. So we were concerned about their extremity dose. So we worked up a method for doing a classified videotape of the disassembly operation, so that we could study each step in the process to find ways to improve worker safety. Providing shielding, remote tools, things of that nature. The process on this was to take the plutonium pit and high explosives and put it in liquid nitrogen bath for a period of time. Then bring it out and put it in a little tub-like, and pour hot water on it. The HE would expand rapidly and crack off. And for the most part, it worked very well. Well, there was this one particular pit that we were working on when we were doing the videotape for this study. Apparently the HE wasn’t coming off the way it should, and so they had to repeat this process over and over. They brought it out of the liquid nitrogen, poured hot water on it, and the plutonium—the cladding, the beryllium cladding on the plutonium pit actually cracked, due to the severe temperature change. The workers who were working on this were trained very carefully that if that cladding on the pit ever cracks, get out of there fast, so you avoid a plutonium exposure. So that happened. One of the technicians heard an audible crack and saw it on the surface of that pit. And they all evacuated immediately. They got just outside the door of this special facility, and they called our radiation safety office, and fortunately my three best technicians were standing there by the phone. They said, pit had cracked. And so they got over there as fast as they possibly could. They recognized the danger of having an exposed plutonium pit, and how that can oxidize and cause severe contamination very quickly. They decided to put on respirators to protect themselves, but they didn’t bother with any of the other protective clothing because they wanted to save time. So they made an entry where the cracked pit was, still there with the water bath on it, and the video shooting this picture. They took samples right on the crack and on the water and all around it. They managed to take that plutonium pit and get it into a plastic bag and then they doubled bagged it and then they triple bagged it and sealed it up. Then they came out. Of course, the samples revealed that there was indeed plutonium contamination coming out of that crack, but they had contained it very quickly. When we made a later entry to retrieve the video tape that was still running, and we looked at the timestamp on it. From the time the crack appeared until they had it in the bag was seven minutes.
Franklin: Wow!
Martin: That’s about as fast as you can possibly expect a response team to come in and secure a situation like that. And so, following that, of course we had the incident debriefing, and I had to chair that. But we very carefully went through and recorded every little thing that happened from the time they were working on the disassembly to the time they exited. Got that all documented, and then the videotape of course documented all of that. The scrutiny by Department of Energy, the Amarillo office, the Albuquerque office, Headquarters, any number of others—we had a lot of attention that day. It was a long, hard day at the office, but very exciting. Following that, we had to debrief many other investigation committees and others. But we had that videotape to rely on, and that just was invaluable. That’s my—that was probably the most exciting day of my life, down there. [LAUGHTER] Got a follow-up to that. That W48 weapon was designed by Livermore. They came in at a later time and did a post-mortem on that cracked pit. And when they did, we discovered that the amount of plutonium contamination there that was available for distribution had it not been contained, would have totally just made that facility useless. I mean, extremely expensive clean-up, if it ever got done.
Franklin: Not just the room, but the entire facility?
Martin: Well, mainly that room.
Franklin: That room.
Martin: But it was a very big room, and a very valuable room, specially designed. But the quick response of our radiation safety technicians and getting that contained saved that room and millions of dollars in expense.
Franklin: Wow. And so this was a weapon that was the size of a howitzer shell?
Martin: 155 millimeters.
Franklin: Wow. And what is the—I don’t know if you know this—but what’s the explosive power of that—is it—I guess it could be—
Martin: Well, it’s just like the atomic bombs used in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, about 20-kiloton fission device. The plutonium pit is designed to implode and cause a super-critical reaction.
Franklin: But fired out of a howitzer, instead of—
Martin: Fired out of a howitzer, perhaps 20 miles or something. And then you can somehow coordinate the careful detonation of this--
Franklin: [LAUGHTER]
Martin: --device. It boggled my mind.
Franklin: I guess that’s best that that was never ever—
Martin: There’s quite a large number of different nuclear weapons. Many of them were tactical weapons used in Europe—or deployed in Europe during the Cold War. Many other more modern ones are part of Polaris missiles and other large bombs that can be deployed by B-52s or B-2s.
Franklin: Sure.
Martin: Yeah. There’s quite a wide range of different models and designs. I didn’t know that at the time, but it’s fascinating. I remember one day standing in one of the disassembly rooms, and they had this nuclear weapon in a cradle standing there on the floor, and they had the top off of it. And I could just look down in the top of it. I couldn’t touch it, but I could look in there and just see the engineering in one of those things was just amazing. Just beyond belief.
Franklin: I bet. I can only imagine.
Martin: Yeah. But I’ve gone off on this nuclear weapons story and departed from Hanford.
Franklin: It’s okay.
Martin: Maybe I should come back.
Franklin: I think that’s a very interesting story. I certainly—I’ve also, like I said, heard of plenty of bombs—ICBMs, missiles, but I’d never quite heard of a howitzer-type fired weapon. But also just the fact that your team and your field was able to prevent a really nasty incident is pretty amazing.
Martin: Right.
Franklin: It speaks to your profession and your skill.
Martin: Well, like I mentioned, the professional credentials. Two of the three technicians who responded were certified by NNRPT. And they had the right kind of training, knew what to do, did it very well.
Franklin: Great.
Martin: I had an opportunity a year later to nominate them for a special DoE award for unusual—not heroism, but effective response. And they won the award that year.
Franklin: That’s great. So how and when did you leave Pantex?
Martin: Well, the first time, was in ’96—no, I’m sorry, in ’93—and I had a special appointment back at DoE headquarters in Germantown. So I went back there for two years to work with the branch of DoE that was like an inspector general—the internal inspection branch, if you will. Very similar in scope to what the DNFSB—Defense Nuclear Facility Safety Board—was doing. Scrutinizing all the DoE operations at the national labs and other facilities, and trying to always make improvements.
Franklin: Wow.
Martin: So I worked with the DoE headquarters staff on many different audits that we did at other DoE labs. At the time, I specialized in dosimetry, both internal and external dosimetry, and other operational health physics parts of the program.
Franklin: Wow. So when did you come back to the Tri-Cities?
Martin: Well, I had a couple other interesting assignments in there. After DoE headquarters, then I went back to Pantex for three more years. And then another opportunity came up on an old facility near Cincinnati that needed to be decommissioned—decontaminated and decommissioned. And I went to Oak Ridge first, worked with the Foster Wheeler Company on the design of what became the largest radon control building that had ever been done. I was the radiation safety officer for that project at Oak Ridge in the design effort. And then we moved to Cincinnati for a year and I worked at the Fernald facility in actually building this radon control facility. What we were trying to deal with were these large concrete silos that contained residual ore material from the Second World War. They have to go back to—when the Manhattan Project was trying to bring together the necessary uranium in addition to the plutonium that was produced here at Hanford, they were using a rich pitch blend ore that was coming from what was then called Belgian Congo in Africa. It was shipped from there up the Saint Lawrence River to a facility near Niagara Falls. And then it ended up being processed to extract as much uranium as possible. But there were these residuals. They ended up in these concrete silos near Niagara Falls, New York as well as this Fernald facility, just outside of Cincinnati. So we had three big concrete silos that—I don’t recall—they must have been 80 feet in diameter and 50 feet high. So they held a lot of uranium ore residuals. It contained a fair amount of radium, which gave off radon gas. This facility was located not too far from a residential area. So it became a greater concern for getting it cleaned up. We put together this radon control facility that had these huge charcoal beds and you could pipe—you could take the head gas off of this silo, pipe it into these charcoal beds where the radon would be absorbed, and then the clean air would circulate. So you could fairly rapidly reduce the concentration of radon inside the silo to much lower levels. In the process, the charcoal beds got loaded up by absorbing radon. There came a point where you had to heat up that charcoal to drive off the captured radon. We devised a clever scheme with four different beds where we could kind of keep one of them recirculating on all times and have the other three working.
Franklin: So you say drive off the captured radon, where would it be driven off?
Martin: Over to the next charcoal bed, which hadn’t yet been completely saturated.
Franklin: Oh! But then eventually you still have charcoal that—
Martin: but it decays with a 3.8 day half-life, and that was built into the plan, too.
Franklin: Oh!
Martin: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: But if it was to escape, right, it would get people very—it would contaminate or get people sick, or--?
Martin: Well, it was pretty carefully designed not to—
Franklin: Oh, but I’m saying that radon—
Martin: Oh, if it escaped from the silo. If there was no control of it—a certain amount of radon was escaping from the silo. For the most part, it’s a light gas, it just goes up and the wind blows it and disperses it. So it was very difficult to even measure anything offsite. But there was that concern there that we were dealing with.
Franklin: But if enough of it was released at once, then there might have been an issue?
Martin: Like if the whole roof of the silo was suddenly removed and it all came out, that could be a problem, yeah.
Franklin: Interesting. I didn’t realize it had such a short half-life.
Martin: Yeah. So I did that, what amounted to ten years of offsite assignments. About that time, my wife and I got tired of moving. So we came back to the Tri-Cities, and our kids are here. I came back to work at Battelle for another few years before I retired.
Franklin: When did you come back to Battelle?
Martin: I came back in 2001.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So then you worked for—it says you retired in 2006.
Martin: I retired about four years later. And the last major project I worked on was also very interesting. It was the project for customs and border protection. It was to install radiation portal monitors at seaports. This was shortly after 9/11, and there was a concern about dirty bomb material being imported by any means. We had one part of the project dealt with seaport, another part airports, and a third part postal facilities.
Franklin: Wow.
Martin: So I worked on the seaports part, and I had the Port of Los Angeles was my assignment. Another one of us had Port of Long Beach, which is right next door, which are the largest seaports on the West Coast and have the largest number of shipping containers coming in. So we devised a method for monitoring those shipping containers as they were unloaded and making sure nothing was coming in that way.
Franklin: Did—oh, sorry.
Martin: Very interesting project.
Franklin: I don’t know if you can speak to this, but was anything caught by these monitors?
Martin: Yes. But not dirty bomb material.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Martin: Turns out they were so sensitive, they would detect any kind of elevated background radioactivity. For example, kitty litter is a little bit elevated in background. Any kind of stone product, and there are various granite and other stone products imported from different places. Those had a high enough background activity that they would trigger our monitors. So we would run all these containers through a set of monitors, and any that triggered that amount would then be sent over to a secondary monitor, where they’d examine it more carefully, verify what was actually in the containers, sometimes inspect them.
Franklin: So recently our project staff got a tour of some of the facilities at HAMMER. And I believe we saw one of those monitors. Would that have been the same?
Martin: Mm-hm. Big yellow columns?
Franklin: Yeah, that they run it through.
Martin: Yep, that was the one.
Franklin: So you helped design—
Martin: We helped design—oh, I didn’t really get involved in design. That was done by some real smart people out here at Battelle. But I was onsite trying to get them installed.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Martin: And tested.
Franklin: Wow. That’s really—that’s fascinating.
Martin: Yeah, it was. I had a chance to do a lot of fun things when I worked at Battelle.
Franklin: Yeah, it sounds like it. Sounds like maybe I need to go get a job over there. Maybe they need a traveling historian. So, where—what have you been doing since you retired?
Martin: Well, for about five years, I worked for Dade Moeller, which is kind of a spinoff company from Battelle. And they had a major contract with NIOSH—National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health—as part of an employee compensation program for radiation workers. Initially, the way this was set up was we got the actual radiation exposure records for former employees and examined their measured radiation exposure, and then did some other calculations that would tend to take into account anything else that they might have been exposed to but was somehow not measured on the dosimeter and many other factors to kind of add up their maximum possible radiation dose. And then that was compared—this is where it got a little complex. There are many different types of cancer that can be caused by radiation at a high enough level. Some types of cancer can be caused by a radiation level lower than some others. So it depended on what type of cancer the individual had as to which—how we measured their maximum possible radiation exposure to the likelihood that that cancer was caused by radiation. We did a careful calculation using probability and determined that if their cancer was at least 50% probable that it was caused by radiation, then they were granted an award. Well, we did that for several years in a very careful, scientific way that was well-documented. Then it became political. A lot of former workers, then, applied for another category within this overall compensation program that they called Special Exposure Cohort. Which meant that it didn’t matter how much radiation exposure they had, if they had the right type of cancer, they could get the award. And it’s kind of degenerated that way. But for many years, I think we did it right. I also had an opportunity to work on another part of that project where we did what we call the technical basis documents, where we reconstructed the history of how radiation exposure records were developed and maintained at each of these different sites. Every one varied a little bit. I did the one for the technical basis document for Pantex in Amarillo, because I was familiar with that. But I got to do several other interesting sites, one of which was Ames Laboratory in Ames, Iowa. Going there and interviewing some of these old-timers and looking at their old records, I found that there was a chemistry professor at what was then Iowa State University. He was called upon by the Manhattan Project in 1943 to help them improve their methods for extracting uranium metal. The old process that had been used by the Curies and other early scientists was really quite inefficient. But this professor developed a method used in a calcium catalyst that was very effective. He was able to purify uranium metal much quicker and in larger quantities. The story was that he would have to get on the train every Sunday afternoon and go to Chicago for the meeting with the Manhattan Project and report on the progress of his research and so on. One week after successfully isolating an ingot of uranium metal, he took it with him in his briefcase. Went into the meeting with Manhattan Project and clunked it on the desk, and passed it around. He said that this is a new method for producing substantial quantities of uranium metal. All the scientists around the table kind of poked at it and scratched it and so on and didn’t believe it was really uranium, but it was. And they finally decided that he had made a great breakthrough, so they sent him back to Iowa and said, make a lot more, fast. And he did. So he had the material they needed, then, for the Manhattan Project.
Franklin: Wow.
Martin: Interesting story.
Franklin: Yeah, that’s really fascinating. So how did you become involved with the Parker Foundation?
Martin: About ten years ago—almost ten years ago—my friend Bill Bair and Ron Kathren and a couple others on the Parker Board invited me to participate. Matt Moeller was chairman of the board at that time—invited me to participate, and I just joined in, and found it very rewarding. I really appreciate what the Parker Board does in the memory of Herb Parker and in the sense of scholarships and other educational programs. So it’s a pleasure to contribute to that.
Franklin: Great, great. You moved in 1975 or ’76?
Martin: I moved here in ’76.
Franklin: ’76. And you mentioned children. Were your children born here, or did you move here with them?
Martin: My oldest daughter was born in San Diego, and my younger daughter was born in Boulder, Colorado.
Franklin: Okay.
Martin: So they were six and eight, I think, when we moved here.
Franklin: What were your impressions of Richland in the mid-70s when you moved? Did you live in Richland or did you--?
Martin: We did. Yeah, we lived just a few blocks from WSU here.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Martin: In North Richland. It was a very different community, but one that I came to know and respect. Because at that time, education was really paramount in the minds of parents and the school system. And my wife was a teacher. So we really took an interest in that. My kids got a really good education here in Richland. Went to Hanford High, and then did well in college. One of the main features of Richland at that time, I think, was a superior education program. Some of the other history of Richland with old government housing, and then we got a new house, and things like that are entirely different, but also very interesting.
Franklin: And is that what you kind of are meaning when you say it was a different community? I guess I’d like to unpack that a little bit more. How—in what ways was it different?
Martin: Well, a large part of Richland was originally government housing, and you only had to drive through town, you could see all the evidence of that. And then on the north side of Richland, they had opened up—beginning in 1965, I believe—development of newer private housing. We got here just in time to get in on a new house, and worked out fine for us.
Franklin: Great. Was there—being next to a site that was primarily involved in product production, plutonium production—was there a different feeling about the Cold War in Richland per se than anywhere else you had lived in the United States at that time?
Martin: There definitely was different feelings about the Cold War and living anywhere near a nuclear power plant. I remember when we were working with the Nuclear Regulatory Commission at many different reactor sites around the country. In many cases we would have public meetings to introduce the local folks to what we were trying to do to improve the emergency planning. There was a lot of concern about living anywhere near a nuclear power plant just a few years after TMI. I tried to explain to people how I live within 30 miles of nine nuclear power plants. But I understood radiation. I understood the risk, and I understood what could go wrong or how to deal with it. And it didn’t concern—didn’t bother me that much to live here. I found that to be generally true of a lot of people in Richland that were part—working at Hanford and were well-educated. They understood the risk and they could deal with it. Whereas many other people were just afraid. And I attribute that to what I call now about a 71-year deliberate misinformation program on the part of mass media to scare people about radiation.
Franklin: I like that. I’m writing it down. How do you feel that the—do you feel that the ending of the Cold War changed your work at all? I guess the reason why I ask—
Martin: It did.
Franklin: --these questions about the Cold War is because it was the impetus for much of the continued production of the material.
Martin: Yeah. I was in Germany in 1988, just before the Berlin Wall came down. I was also there in Berlin in 1984, and we actually crossed through Checkpoint Charlie into East Berlin on a special tour.
Franklin: Really?
Martin: It was quite amazing. I was in Berlin for a meeting of the International Radiation Protection Association. I took my whole family; it was a tremendous adventure for them. But we were able to be part of a special US Army tour that went through Checkpoint Charlie. I think they did this once a week. And we had a little tour of East Berlin while it was still under the control of the USSR. We visited their Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and they had a little ceremonial changing the guard there. And we visited the square in Berlin where Hitler had burned the books that one night in 1939. And then we visited a huge Russian war memorial, and there was a building there where the Germans had surrendered in 1945. There was quite a story about that. But I was really impressed with this huge Russian war memorial. There were five mass graves that each held 100,000 soldiers. It was done in kind of the Russian style, with statues and other honorary symbols to clearly show their respect for the lives of all those soldiers. But that was an impressive sight. But I was there again in 1988 just before the Berlin Wall came down, and you could kind of see the end of the Cold War coming. So it was a great opportunity that I had, working for Battelle, being able to travel like that, and do many exciting things.
Franklin: Did you get to ever talk or meet with any of your counterparts on the Russian side?
Martin: Yes.
Franklin: After the Cold War ended. And what was that like, to finally work with what had been considered the enemy?
Martin: It was quite unusual. I was scheduled to go to Russia a week after 9/11. It almost got canceled, but I managed to go. I was giving—they were having a conference for young scientists and trying to introduce them to international concepts of radiation safety. So I gave my paper and four others that we did to that group. It was located at what was the Russian equivalent of Los Alamos, their design facility. There weren’t very many Americans had been in there up to that point. So I was watched very closely. [LAUGHTER] And not allowed to see much, actually. But it was a very interesting exchange. The papers I was presenting were prepared in both English and Russian. And then we also did what they called a poster presentation, where we had a big poster with diagrams and everything—again translated to Russian. So we were able to put these up at this conference for these young scientists. They, I think, got a lot out of it because it was in their language so it was easy for them to understand. Working with an interpreter was a new experience for me. I would give this oral presentation, so I’d say one sentence and the pause. The interpreter would repeat that. I’d say the next sentence, and—kind of an awkward way to do an oral presentation.
Franklin: I can imagine.
Martin: But their hospitality was very good. This was in 2001. So the Cold War had been over for quite a few years. But we were trying to establish better relations. I think it was quite effective in doing that. I had another opportunity to work with Russian scientists on an NRC program, again where NRC was trying to provide training to their equivalent Russian inspectors for nuclear power plants and explain to them some of the ways that they did inspections, things they looked for, how they documented findings and things like that. We had four Russian inspectors and their interpreter come over from Moscow. I was their host in Washington, DC, and we worked with them there with the NRC headquarters for a week, providing training. And then we brought them out to Idaho to the Idaho National Lab, north of Idaho Falls, and went to a large hot cell facility at Idaho. A hot cell is where they have a heavily shielded enclosure with mechanical arms that do things on the inside. It was quite a sophisticated facility and somewhat unlike what the Russian counterparts were used to. But it was a good learning exercise for them. We kind of went through a demonstration of how we would do an inspection—a safety inspection. So, I had those kind of opportunities to interact with Russian scientists and found that very exciting. Very interesting.
Franklin: Did you find that there was anything that you had learned from them at all? Or do you feel that the US was much more advanced in radiation protection and health physics?
Martin: Well, I kept my ears open when I was talking to them, but they didn’t reveal much. [LAUGHTER] So, we didn’t pick up much that way.
Franklin: Sure.
Martin: We were trying to help them.
Franklin: Right. Were you at Hanford during the Russian visit to Hanford when they toured the Plutonium Finishing Plant?
Martin: No. That was after I retired, I think.
Franklin: Okay, just curious.
Martin: I heard about it of course.
Franklin: I’m sure. That must have been a pretty big deal from the standpoint of both countries. Is there anything that we haven’t covered that you would like to talk about?
Martin: I think there’s one thing I remember from when I did this interview the first time that I wanted to mention.
Franklin: Sure.
Martin: I’ve been talking about all the varied experiences I had, and excellent opportunities over the years. But I think one of the perhaps most impressive things that I was able to do was to be able to hire several good people into my organization. I won’t mention names, but there were several that I call superstars that are now leaders in the field. I was able to bring them in right out of college or from another job, and hire several really good people that certainly enhanced our program, and then gave them great opportunities to grow and expand. Like I say, they’re now leaders in the field. That was one of the most rewarding parts of my job.
Franklin: That’s great. Maybe you can give me their names off camera and we could contact them.
Martin: I think they’re already on your list. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Oh, okay, good.
Martin: But I’ll do that.
Franklin: Well, good.
Martin: We’ll do that.
Franklin: They should be. Tom, did you—
Tom Hungate: No, I’m fine.
Franklin: Emma, did you have anything?
Emma Rice: No, I’m fine.
Franklin: Okay. Well, I think that’s it. Jerry, thank you so much.
Martin: Well, that was fun. Did we stay on target?
Franklin: I believe we did.
Martin: I wandered a little. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: That’s okay.
Martin: There’s some stories there that might be interesting.
Franklin: I think the stories help keep the oral histories—they have a human-centered focus and they’re interesting for people to watch.
Martin: I hope so.
Franklin: And I think there might be a couple things that merit some more research in there that personally, for me, I’d like to find out some more about.
Martin: Oh, okay.
Franklin: Especially the howitzer thing.
Martin: Oh, yeah. [LAUGHTER]
Hungate: One thing I’d just like to ask—
Martin: Sure.
Hungate: You’ve been involved in a lot of things over a broad range of time and experiences and I just kind of wonder what you would feel is the one—maybe the item or two that you’ve worked on that will leave the most lasting impact?
Martin: The most lasting impact.
Hungate: Or that you wished had been developed more that didn’t quite complete, you’d like to see more work done on it, it was either defunded or it was—
Martin: Well, I’m thinking of several different things now. I’ll just have to think it through. The work we did with NRC to improve emergency planning on nuclear power plants I think was very effective. And that’s still being maintained today. Work we did with DoE at Pantex on nuclear weapons. You mentioned the end of the Cold War, that’s when many of these tactical nuclear weapons in Europe were brought back and declared obsolete, and so we were doing a massive disassembly operation on those. I learned a lot about nuclear weapons and found it fascinating. We implemented some methods at Pantex that I think are still in use in the maintenance programs that they do now. But we were able to, I think, substantially improve on radiation safety at Pantex. Certainly to the point where we were finally blessed by DNFSB and DoE. I think the quality of that program has been maintained. There’s several other projects that I’ve worked on over the years, but I guess there’s no one thing that stands out that I would be concerned about that it was defunded or ended or somehow went downhill. I’m sure that’s happened, but I haven’t kept track of everything.
Franklin: Being as nuclear power and nuclear weapons have different objectives, and you mentioned this retirement of a lot of nuclear weapons, do you feel that nuclear weapons still have a role to play in security—
Martin: I do.
Franklin: You do?
Martin: Yes. Because the Russians still have a lot of them, China has some, the French and English have a few. It’s what I call the mutual deterrent, which is a term that’s been used. It just means that we don’t ever want to use one again, but if any one of those countries had some kind of an unbalanced advantage, it could be used. So if we have this mutual assured deterrence, it keeps that in balance. So it’s important to maintain that stockpile.
Franklin: Interesting. Thank you.
Hungate: Okay.
Franklin: Great.
Douglas O’Reagan: First off, would you please say and spell your name for us?
Maxwell Freshley: My legal name is Maxwell Freshley, F-R-E-S-H-L-E-Y. Not many people around here know me by that name. I go by Max.
O’Reagan: Okay, thanks. My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral interview history here on January 11th, 2016. This interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And I will be talking with Mr. Freshley about his experiences working at the Hanford site. To start us off, would you tell us maybe some of your life up, before you came to this area?
Freshley: Well, I was born and raised in Portland, Oregon. I graduated from the University of Portland in 1951 with a degree in physics. I was offered a tech grad position on the site here. At the time, it was operated by General Electric Company, and this was—I started work here in June of 1951. Okay. So I guess prior to coming here, my having been raised in Portland, and that’s where I went to school, my extended experiences were rather limited. That’s kind of what happened. So I came here in June of 1951, fresh out of school, I wasn’t married at the time. First place I lived was in the Army barracks in north Richland. I can’t tell you about how long I lived there, but while I was living in north Richland in the barracks, I did not have a car. So being kind of isolated out north was a bit of a challenge. So as soon as I could find somebody who would loan me some money, I bought a brand new Ford and that solved a lot of my problems. And then sometime during that first year, I was moved to one of the dorms in Richland. I think the dorms were located on Lee Boulevard. It was close to—I’m calling it a drugstore. But it was kind of like a Payless. I don’t think that was the right name at that time. But they had a restaurant—they served food in this drugstore. So that’s where I would eat.
O’Reagan: Had you heard about Hanford before you came here?
Freshley: Not really. I really hadn’t heard about it. It was all secret, you know?
O’Reagan: Right. Were you aware of the sort of connection with the atomic bomb before you got here?
Freshley: I’d have to say I was not. Although while I was still going to school—still in school—when was the Nagasaki ignited?
O’Reagan: ’45, I believe?
Freshley: ’45?
O’Reagan: I think so.
Freshley: That—oh, okay.
O’Reagan: It was the very end of the Second World War.
Freshley: Yeah. Well, I might’ve heard of that. Yeah.
O’Reagan: What was your first impression of Richland and this area?
Freshley: [LAUGHTER] First impression was living in the barracks out in north Richland-- [LAUGHTER] was not too great. Of course, my first impression was it was darn hot here, coming here in June. It was very warm. My future wife and her mother brought me to Richland from Portland and dropped me off. [LAUGHTER] So things kind of went from there.
O’Reagan: Sure. So we were going to ask about where you were living, but we already addressed that to some degree. What was life like in the barracks?
Freshley: Oh. I would say very basic. Of course, in the dorm rooms that were assigned, you always had a roommate that you lived with. So I became, of course, very familiar with my roommates. When I moved from the barracks to Richland, I had a different roommate. So I made acquaintances with two people like that. They were both scientists, so we got along really well. In fact, one of them is still living in Richland.
O’Reagan: What kind of work did you do at Hanford, and where on the site did you work?
Freshley: Well, first of all, I worked in 300 Area in 3706 Building. I was—they assigned me a position in the Graphite Group. We were studying graphite, the moderator in the reactors. One of the things that was going on at the time—and I can’t tell you what reactor it was—but the graphite core was swelling. It was—I don’t know if it had come in contact yet with the upper shield, but it was growing. I was assigned to two people in the Graphite Group. We went and extracted samples of graphite from the core of this reactor. The thing that they had set up to do that, of course, was already here. So we were extracting samples—core samples. What the purpose of my job was to determine the annealing temperature of the graphite, so that if they raised the temperature in the core to a point where graphite annealing started occurring, then the core would shrink back and not interfere with the top shield. So I think they were looking for somebody—[LAUGHTER] I won’t say it. But anyway, I was assigned the position or job of taking these graphite samples and investigating the annealing temperature. What we used was a Fresnel diffractometer. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of that, but interference rings from this interferometer would be displayed. It was my job to count the rings. It was a very tedious job. I’m sure that these two fellas didn’t want to do that, so they found me, and I did it. These rotations were—honestly I can’t remember whether they were three months or six months, but you would rotate from one position to another. I don’t remember if you could choose your positions—your rotations—I guess it probably depended on whether or not there was something available or not to go to. So I fulfilled my position in the Graphite Group. I didn’t want to stay in the Graphite Group, so I moved on.
O’Reagan: Before we move on, I have a quick question for you. This is a little bit off-script, but I have an undergraduate degree in physics.
Freshley: Uh-huh.
O’Reagan: I was reading a while back that when you started heating up the reactors, it caused that expansion to go back, and that sounds like what you’re describing.
Freshley: Mm-hm.
O’Reagan: But what is annealing?
Freshley: It’s heating to a temperature where the damage caused by the neutron radiation would be annealed physically. So the core would shrink back. But you had to get it up to a certain temperature, and you didn’t want to overheat it, because if you get it too hot, then the core—the graphite would oxidize. That would not be good. But I think the cores were enclosed in an argon atmosphere, as I remember.
O’Reagan: It just surprised me, of course—I expected you get something hot, it expands. But now we’re saying you get it hot and it shrinks!
Freshley: Yeah, that’s right. But when you’re looking at the diffraction rings on the interferometer, you can tell by the movement of the rings when you are reaching the annealing temperature. So either they—and I can’t honestly remember the details here, whether the rings did not move as fast, or whether they might have even changed direction.
O’Reagan: Interesting.
Freshley: So I had an early experience with a graphite-moderated production reactor.
O’Reagan: What was it—you said you moved on from graphite to something else?
Freshley: Oh yeah. My second assignment was in the metallurgy laboratory in 234-5 Building. 234-5 Building now is known as—god. Hm. Plutonium—it’s the one that you read a lot--
O’Reagan: Plutonium Finishing Plant?
Freshley: Pardon me?
O’Reagan: Is it the plutonium finishing?
Freshley: Yeah, Plutonium Finishing Plant where the plutonium buttons were received and machined to a hockey-type shape. Well, they were—actually, they were reduced to form the metal, and I was not involved in that. But I was in the Plutonium Metallurgy Lab, which was at one end of the Plutonium Finishing Plant. I don’t think there are many or any people left around who know of that. I can’t think of anybody that I worked with during that period who’s still around. But we had a Plutonium Metallurgy Lab, and my manager was a very nice fella. This, now, was in the early ‘50s. One thing that he wanted me to do—and I don’t think that what I did was original research, because I think all of the original research was probably done at Los Alamos, which was the renowned weapons facility. He wanted me to investigate the low temperature phase changes in plutonium. So what I did—and that’s important because phase changes in plutonium or any metal creates a dimensional change. And a dimensional change is not something that you want in a weapon or a bomb, because it interferes with the efficiency of the bomb. So here I was, fresh out of school and didn’t know from up. Anyway, I put together what’s called a differential thermal analysis apparatus. Are you familiar with that?
O’Reagan: I know the individual terms.
Freshley: Okay. [LAUGHTER] So that’s what I did. I ran low temperature phase studies on plutonium—pure plutonium to detect these low temperature phase changes, which were very—since they were low temperature, they were very difficult to pick up, because there wasn’t much energy exchange during the phase change. Then, since that was not something you would want in a weapon or a bomb, small alloy additions were added to the plutonium to stabilize the low temperature, so you didn’t have these low temperature changes. All of this at the time was quite classified, which make it extra interesting, I guess. But when I went out to 234-5 Building in the plutonium lab, we were—there were three or four of us—we were assigned a car. So we had a car that we could go back and forth in, to work. That made it pretty nice, because we didn’t have to ride the bus and all of that. Then—this is something else that I doubt very much that anyone knew about at the time. It was the fabrication of plutonium parts for artillery shells. We cast plutonium in what was known as the 231-Z Building. We didn’t do it in the 234-5 Building. 231 was just across the street. In that building, I was not involved in the casting or the machining, but the parts were machined in that building. Then they were brought over to 234-5 Building in the Plutonium Metallurgy Lab. Because plutonium would oxidize and so on—so my job was to produce pure nickel coatings. But I don’t mean coatings like were attached. We used bismuth, which has a low melting temperature and it’s stable, to machine the exact replica of the plutonium part. Then, my job was to make—with electroplated nickel onto this bismuth—and then the bismuth was melted away. My job was to enclose the plutonium parts in nickel. So I had to do that in a vacuum. At first I had to do the electroplating. Then I had to put the nickel—what—the nickel cover, if you want—on the plutonium part, under vacuum, and solder a seal around the edge to make it—so it wouldn’t contact the air. And then it wouldn’t be as—you wouldn’t have to worry so much about contamination. But it had to be done in an atmosphere where, after the nickel part was put on the plutonium part, I sealed it with the vacuum and then it was not contaminated. The interesting part about that—one of the interesting parts—is that we were doing this for the Livermore National Lab, who was also at the time at a weapons facility. There were two: Los Alamos and Livermore. We were doing this for Livermore. As soon as the parts were finished, and I finished them, there would be a representative from Livermore waiting for the part. These parts, at times, were handed off, out the back door of 234-5 Building to this individual, who then took them to town, to the airport. I presume then, they were flown to Livermore. These tests at the time were conducted in the South Pacific—Eniwetok Islands. I never knew anything about the results. [LAUGHTER] Or what happened. But I suspect that these days we have artillery shells with plutonium weapons involved.
O’Reagan: When you were working on all these—all these different processes, what sort of team were you working—were you working mostly on an independent sub-project, or did you have other people you were sort of working with day-to-day?
Freshley: Well, when I did the differential thermal analysis, it was me. And when I was enclosing the plutonium parts in these nickel shells, that was pretty much me. Yeah. The group was small. I would guess—let’s see, there was—oh, three, four, five—I suspect there were less than ten people in the whole group. The machinist—there were two machinists—I guess I shouldn’t say who they were, but—they did very well—one of them did very well in the Tri-Cities. He had a big vision and—
O’Reagan: I ask, because some of what you’re describing sounds—at least to my sort of ignorant ears—like applied chemistry as well as applied physics. Did you have a chemistry background, or was that not really necessary for what you were working on?
Freshley: I did not have a chemistry background other than what you normally get in a four-year program. I did not have a metallurgy background, either. You know? So that all took—I had to get acquainted with that aspect of the world, and I found it to be very interesting. Later on in my life, I was sorry that I probably hadn’t taken metallurgy.
O’Reagan: How much were you instructed specifically what to do versus sort of innovating yourself or figuring stuff out as you go?
Freshley: Well, I’m sure that my manager—he had a degree from Montana School of Mines in Metallurgy. He was a very nice person. He—I’m sure I got instruction and help from him, because I needed it. Here’s this 21-year-old kid, just out of school, doesn’t know metallurgy from up. But I guess I was successful and it worked out.
O’Reagan: Okay. Let’s see. Could you describe a typical workday within those first—you worked there for a long period of time overall, is that right? How long were you working at Hanford overall?
Freshley: Overall?
O’Reagan: Yeah.
Freshley: [LAUGHTER] I started in 1951 and I retired in 1993. Then I consulted for a period after that. So you figure out the years. The first 14 years were with GE, then Battelle came in ’65, and I transferred to Battelle. I had the choice at that point to transfer to either Battelle or Westinghouse. Westinghouse was focused on the FFTF, and the development of that reactor. But I chose Battelle.
O’Reagan: Why did you choose Battelle?
Freshley: I don’t know. I think they were interested in things that I found fascinating. So I switched to Battelle, and have never been sorry. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: So when you were describing—is that amount of time that you were describing up to the end of your time at GE? Or was there still more that you were working on at GE before, or subsequent to—you were describing the different plutonium products.
Freshley: I haven’t gotten to the end of GE yet. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Okay, great. I’d love to hear more.
Freshley: Yeah. And then I got out—I was moved—I got into other things besides plutonium metallurgy. I might say that one of the—while I was at the plutonium lab, one of the technicians was working in a glovebox—do you know what a glovebox is?—that exploded. And it totally, totally contaminated the lab with plutonium. So we spent—the group—spent a lot of time decontaminating that room, and everything in it. We were successful enough that the walls were repainted to secure the plutonium contamination and everything. But then—I don’t know why I changed—but I stayed in 234-5 Building, and maybe—I don’t know, three, four, five years, possibly. Then I got involved in light-water reactor fuel development. That’s where I basically spent the rest of my career. In the late ‘50s, PRTR was under construction. We did—in those days, you were given—at least, in my case, you were given a lot of flexibility to do new things. That was really neat. Then—I didn’t write down the date, but in the late ‘50s, PRTR was under construction, and there was the second International Conference on the Peaceful Uses of Atomic Energy. We contributed to that publication—there were several publications. I didn’t get to go to the conference, but we contributed to that. Then I got involved in plutonium recycling in thermal reactors. I don’t know if you read this morning’s paper: there was an article there about a plutonium fuel—well, it’s called MOX—mixed oxide: plutonium oxide and uranium oxide, a mixture of fuel. This was at Savannah River, and they were building—or are supposedly building a facility for fabricating mixed oxide fuel for light-water reactors. But there have been some problems there, and it’s way behind schedule and over cost or whatever. But that doesn’t affect me. So I’m not involved in that. But anyway, I got involved in, like I say, fuel development—plutonium fuel development for light-water reactors. We had the liberty of doing a lot of different things. One of them was—oh, when we—at first, we found diluents for the plutonium. We irradiated and tested many diluents for plutonium. It had to be diluted—I mean, you can’t use pure plutonium. So I got into that, and we conducted lots and lots of testing of different diluents for plutonium in the MTR and ETR in Idaho—Materials Test Reactor and the Engineering Test Reactor in Idaho. There was a lot of that, and the post-radiation examination was done in the 324 Building, where the major contamination still exists that they have to remove. It’s in the ground, and it’s a major decon project right now with whoever the contractor is, I don’t know. Anyway, we did a lot of testing in MTR and ETR with diluents. We developed a plutonium aluminum alloy spike enrichment element for PRTR. That was one of the activities. An aluminum plutonium spike element—excuse me—is only for spike enrichment in the core. These are spaced around for different neutronic effects. And the reason—it’s a difficult concept, and I don’t know how we got started on that, exactly, because the coefficient of thermal expansion of aluminum with a little bit of plutonium in it is a lot different than the Zircaloy cladding in which it is enclosed. So there were problems with that. Then—ah, let’s see—then I got into recycling the plutonium in thermal reactors, and that was a major government initiative to dispose of plutonium that was no longer needed. So we made mixed oxide fuels of different types. One of the types that seemed attractive at the time was a vibrationally compacted mixture of plutonium and uranium. That is a difficult thing to achieve, because we had to make plutonium—mixed oxide shot, and we vibrated it into the long rods. I remember setting up a shot tower in the basement of 326 Building to make uranium shot. That didn’t work out too good. We didn’t put any plutonium in 326 Building.
O’Reagan: Is this still the late ‘50s or have we gotten into the early ‘60s yet?
Freshley: Well this would be the late ‘50s. Well, we’re getting into the ‘60s, though, yeah. We did irradiation tests of aluminum plutonium spike elements in PRTR. I can’t remember what the plutonium concentration was, but then we started working on VIPAC, or vibrationally compacted fuel. It seemed like it would have advantages, because you’re not working with the small centered pellets. You can just pour the fissionable material into the tubes and VIPAC—vibrationally compact—it. So that—we did a lot of work on that, on VIPAC fuel, because we thought it would have an advantage fabrication-wise. But it had disadvantages, too, of course. You couldn’t compact it to the density that you would get with the centered pellet. There was another concern about it, and that is: fuel elements and reactors, the cladding fails from time to time. Still does. I think they suspect that there is a cladding failure in the Columbia Generating Station now. We needed to look at how they would perform with a cladding rupture. So we performed a test in PRTR in what was known as the Fuel Element Rupture Test Facility, FERTF. We were brave.
O’Reagan: It sounds dangerous!
Freshley: We put together a test element. The elements in PRTR were 19 rod clusters—I forget how long, but quite long. So what we did--we were adventuresome—we put a mixed oxide fuel element in PRTR, but first we drilled a hole in the cladding. John Fox, who you’ve interviewed, still can’t imagine that we did something like that. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: This probably couldn’t happen today [INAUDIBLE]
Freshley: Oh, no. No way. Anyway, in 1966, we had that experiment in PRTR, and everything was going pretty well until they started cycling the reactor power a little bit. Well, from then on, things went from bad to worse. The cladding failed, but I mean, other than the small hole that we had drilled in it, it ruptured for over quite a distance. When it did that, it swelled, and it came in contact with the pressure tube of the FERTF. It caused that to fail also. So this made a horrible mess in PRTR. The reactor was shut down for I don’t know how long during the cleanup and the recovery from that. I can’t remember—I have some pictures if you’re interested—whether or not we were operating with fuel melting at the time. Because we wanted to get as much heat out of the element—or out of the rods as we could. Now, uranium melts at a little over 2,800 degrees centigrade. So we did a lot of work with not only VIPAC fuel—fuel melting in VIPAC fuel, but also in pellet fuel. Of course, you don’t do that sort of thing in real life. In a commercial light-water reactor—I don’t know what the maximum operating temperatures are in the uranium pellets, but it’s a long ways from melting, I guarantee you.
O’Reagan: So did you get the data that you wanted from this rupture test?
Freshley: [LAUGHTER] Yeah, don’t do it. Yeah, and that was kind of actually the end of VIPAC fuel interest. It would definitely not have been commercially viable to have something like that going on in a power reactor. Of course, we learned what the rupture behavior—probably the worst case of what a ruptured VIPAC fuel might do in real life. So that was kind of the end of VIPAC fuel elements. But it was interesting! A really interesting thing to work with and try and develop. We had various—came up with various schemes for compacting UO2 and MOX with using a Dynapac machine, which is a high-energy compaction machine, to form particles. The ideal particle would have been a sphere in a varying size range, so you can maximize the density during VIPACing. But it didn’t work out. And I didn’t get fired. [LAUGHTER] But there were a lot of experiments. Also with looking at the transient behavior of VIPAC fuel, we even conducted some tests in a test reactor. You are placing pure PUO2 particles next to the cladding. Then doing a transient power test on that to see what kind of behavior you would get: how the PUO2 particle would behave. This was done in a reactor in Idaho called SPERT—I can’t tell you what the acronym stands for right now, but it was an interesting exercise. Had some—maybe the reactor was in San Jose; I’m not sure. Anyway, I had some companions who were working for GE; we worked together on that sort of thing. But then, this would have been in 1975, ’76. The light-water reactor power industry wanted to go to higher burnups. That is, leave the fuel in the reactor longer, so they would have longer times between maintenance shutdowns. At the time, the maintenance shutdowns were probably a year or less. So what happened when they went to higher temperatures and higher burnups, the fuel column in—these are ten or 12 feet long rods—would shorten. The fuel column, then, would shrink—would settle. So that caused a great deal of consternation in the light-water reactor power industry, because they had these voids, then, at the top of the fuel columns. Something we called the irradiation-induced densification occurred. So then there was a big effort, commercially, to find solutions to that, so we had—there was what was called a fuel densification program to solve this problem. The fuel industry—let’s see, how was this—they could not tolerate the core shrinking, and then that led to an understanding, or an investigation of N Reactor densification—just the neutron activity. But then they wanted to go to higher burnups. So they started leaving voids in the pellets to accommodate the fission products associated with the high burnup. That didn’t work out to well, either, because of the column shrinking. So that’s when we launched, or got into looking at the fuel densification behavior. The fuel vendors, then, came up with adding materials into the fuel—god, I can’t think of the name now—that would disappear on the high temperature centering of the pellet, leaving voids—controlled voids in the pellets. And they do that today. So the High Burnup Effect Program was a big program here at the lab for quite a long period of time. As a result of that, the fabricators reduced, by using—I can’t think of the name—reduced the density to accommodate the fission—oh, then they put in pore formers. And we, as the lab, were instrumental in coming up with suitable pore formers that would disappear upon centering, during the centering process, to leave these voids in the fuel pellets to accommodate the fission products. As a result of that, this proved to be very satisfactory. It resulted in a stable fuel column and the achievable burnups were increased significantly. You’re probably aware of the fact, now, that the Columbia—the reactor, generating—the Columbia Generating Station, now, can go on a two-year cycle. Meaning they don’t have to shut down for maintenance every year; they can go two years. So the achievement of satisfactory high burnup in reactor fuel was made. All of the other reactors, now—light-water reactors—use that technique. And in fact, as a result of that, the NRC—the Nuclear Regulatory Commission—has imposed a requirement that they test the thermal stability of centered pellets by exposing them to a heat treatment so they don’t shrink any more. Or the shrinkage would be very small. So we were instrumental in coming up with this out-of-reactor thermal test to test the stability, if you will, of the pellets.
O’Reagan: You mentioned working with the light-water reactor industry. Were you working with different groups outside of the Hanford Site and outside of Battelle at that point, or was it still focused within the company?
Freshley: I would say that the company, Battelle, the lab, was instrumental in these investigations. EPRI, the Electric Power Research Institute in Palo Alto, was a partner. In fact, they were kind of the driving force helping us put together a joint program where we had seven other contributors—financial sponsors to this program. We had meetings frequently on the progress of this effort. These seven sponsors came from all over the world: Japan, France, England—of course, the commercial operators in the United States were members. So we had this rather large, difficult to manage international program to develop these advanced fuels for high burnup.
O’Reagan: So this wasn’t classified, or was it more of a sharing agreement with [INAUDIBLE] Not classified then?
Freshley: No, it wasn’t classified. Well, maybe there might have been some—not security, but because the seven sponsors of this program were—they were paying money, you know? And contributing, and they wanted to protect their interests.
O’Reagan: More like trade secrets, then, rather than—
Freshley: Pardon?
O’Reagan: So, more like trade secrets, then, rather than confidentiality.
Freshley: Yeah, but I’d say, most of the—in the United States, the utilities that were operating light-water reactors contributed to this. Another contributor or sponsor was Germany. I can’t remember all of them. That made it real interesting. We had these technical reviews and meetings all over the world. So that made it kind of neat.
O’Reagan: Yeah.
Freshley: Yeah. But the program was very successful. I think I have some documents that describe it, if you’re interested.
O’Reagan: Yeah, absolutely.
Freshley: Okay. And then—I’m not covering this too well—I thought my notes would be more complete but they’re not. [LAUGHTER] Then I got into—this was late in my professional career. There was a reactor in Savannah River, and I didn’t—I can’t tell you the name of it—that produced tritium for thermonuclear weapons. It had to be shut down because of safety reasons. So I got involved in what was called tritium target development for light-water reactors. Because you need tritium for a thermonuclear device. What we did was, the way we did it, we irradiated lithium metal—I shouldn’t say irradiated; we exposed lithium metal to a neutron environment in light-water reactors. The idea being to generate tritium, the gas. Well, what happens is lithium is a metal similar, maybe—low-melting, kind of—to aluminum. It’s not compatible with many cladding or enclosure materials. So we exposed lithium to neutrons to form tritium. In doing that, you had to—because the tritium is an isotope of helium, you had to tie it up some way and contain it. You didn’t want it to get out of the cladding, because we were using zirconium cladding. And then inside of this target, we used a getter for the tritium to collect the tritium and try and keep it enclosed. In fact, I’ve learned recently that there are some commercial reactors back east that have tritium target elements in their cores now to produce tritium for thermonuclear devices.
O’Reagan: I imagine that’s something the government wouldn’t want other places to be doing then.
Freshley: Well, probably not, yeah. You can google tritium production and you’ll get information on the process—well, I don’t know about the detail of the process, but information on producing tritium in light-water reactors. Then as I was nearing retirement, I got out of that and was taken over by a couple other people. But it was interesting, and so that’s kind of—I enjoyed doing this sort of thing a lot. Exploring and testing and so on.
O’Reagan: Was the tritium work also unclassified then, or was that back to the classified world?
Freshley: I think it was in the classified world, perhaps, at the time. Although the lady who currently manages that project at the lab here gave a talk on these elements, these targets, and some of the latest things that they were doing. This was a while back, that she gave this talk. But there were parts of the talk she could not discuss. These parts that she couldn’t discuss are unknown to me and foreign to me, because a lot of that has happened since I retired. See, I retired in ’93—1993. That was—what—25, 26 years ago.
O’Reagan: When you moved from GE to Battelle, did you ever notice any sorts of differences in your work experiences in sort of general terms?
Freshley: No, not really. They were the same people involved, in my case. The big difference is that under DoE at the time—I think it was DoE, maybe AEC—we did not earn credits for service. So 14 years, I didn’t get any—[LAUGHTER]—credits for service which would help my pension, until Battelle came. Then that changed. I do get a GE pension still, but it’s not very much.
O’Reagan: Let’s see. Are there sort of—one thing I’m interested in is how working on Hanford—people’s experiences changed over time as the decades went on, how things changed. Anything sort of leaps to your mind in those regards?
Freshley: Well, one thing that comes to mind to me is things that you do if you’re in the lab and so on, are a lot more regulated now than they were back in the ‘50s and ‘60s. Can you imagine opening the door and getting somebody a plutonium part that he takes off with and goes to Livermore?
O’Reagan: Yeah.
Freshley: You don’t do that.
O’Reagan: Right. Let’s see.
Freshley: So things are a lot more regulated now. And I would say a lot more sophisticated, too. I am aware of the fact that AREVA, here, the fuel fabricator, has developed since my time some very sophisticated models on fuel performance. We didn’t have models like that in those days.
O’Reagan: Interesting. One of the things we’re also trying to get at, which is why a lot of this has been very useful, is what was done on the Hanford site that was sort of innovative or hadn’t been mastered elsewhere? Because you hear sort of both sides of the Hanford legacy, and a lot of these are harder to get at without having classified sources. So the unclassified versions people could tell us about are very interesting.
Freshley: Well, I would say, that except for my time in the plutonium laboratory, things were pretty much unclassified. The development of these different fuels—fuel materials—and testing them and so on. I would say that was pretty much unclassified.
O’Reagan: Interesting.
Freshley: Now, I’m sure that AREVA here has some proprietary interests in their fuel modeling these days. But I’ve seen some of it; it’s a very sophisticated code and model.
O’Reagan: What was it like living in Richland, let’s say the ‘40s and ‘50s first and ask for the later parts afterwards.
Freshley: Well, I can tell you my experience.
O’Reagan: Yeah.
Freshley: First, as I said, I lived in the Army barracks. Then I moved to the dorms that were on Lee. This was before I was married. I was here for a year before I got married, and then when I got married, we got access to one of the Gribble apartments. I don’t know if they’re still there on Gribble Street? I think, maybe, Kadlec has taken all of that over now and destroyed all of the old buildings. But they were two-story apartments. They were really nice. Then after that, we lived in that apartment for five years, my wife tells me. And then we bought a ranch house. It wasn’t a purchase from the government; it was after the ranch houses and the other government houses were sold off by the government. This fella was in a position, a management position, in DoE—I think it might have been AEC at the time. And we bought this ranch house from him on Burch Street in Richland. We paid him $10,000 for it. And then from there—we lived there for a few years, and then we bought a house on Howell. And from Howell, we built a house in Country Ridge. That’s where we live now. We’ve lived there for 20—over 25 years.
O’Reagan: Interesting. I was just thinking back on the timeline there. I know for a long time people couldn’t buy houses in Richland. So I guess you got your first place not too long after you were allowed to?
Freshley: Oh, I think it was very soon. I can’t remember his name, but he was in some management position in DoE and wanted to sell his house. So we bought it from him and got the title and made some changes and so on. Yeah, it was among the first government houses that were sold privately.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. What was life like in the community around there? Do you remember any sort of community events?
Freshley: Yup. Town Theater was there. Actually showing movies, of course. Mm, I don’t know how to answer that. I would say it was pretty normal. Did a lot of outdoor activities, a lot of snow skiing at Tollgate—I don’t know if you know where Tollgate is.
O’Reagan: I’m new to the area.
Freshley: Oh, are you? Okay. It’s in the Blue Mountains. A lot of boating activities. We had a canoe and enjoyed that. Things like that.
O’Reagan: Great.
Freshley: Pretty normal, I would say. Wouldn’t you?
O’Reagan: Sure.
Freshley: [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Did you ever feel like the sort of larger scale politics of the day ever impacted your life whether—Cold War security issues or changing Presidents or any of that?
Freshley: I can’t relate to that. I was not politically inclined like some people you know. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Sure. Let’s see. This is sort of a similar question, so we don’t have to go into too much detail. Any memories of the social scene, local politics, or other insights into life in the Tri-Cities over the time you lived here?
Freshley: Over what time period? Oh.
O’Reagan: In the time you lived here.
Freshley: Well, like I said, I’m not politically oriented, so if there were these things happening, I was pretty isolated from them.
O’Reagan: Okay. Could you describe any ways in which security and/or secrecy at Hanford impacted your work?
Freshley: No, I really can’t, except 234-5 Building, every time you went out there, you had to have your badge and security. I think even in the Plutonium Finishing Plant, there probably—I think there were—additional security requirements.
O’Reagan: What would you like future generations to know about working at Hanford or living in Richland during the Cold War?
Freshley: [LAUGHTER] Well, I wouldn’t know how to answer that. I would say, from my experience, it was very normal. I guess if there were security requirements and things like that, you just kind of got used to it, and you didn’t—it wasn’t something that stood out. I think that’s true.
O’Reagan: Okay. So what haven’t I asked about that I should ask about? What else is there I should be asking about?
Freshley: Well, how do I answer that? I don’t know. I think we’ve covered my experience pretty thoroughly. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Well, we don’t have to dwell on it if nothing comes to mind.
Freshley: No.
O’Reagan: It is an open-ended question.
Freshley: Well, what happened, after we bought our ranch house, the government didn’t come around and change our light bulbs anymore. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Oh, really? Did you have to—how much of a transition was that once you sort of became a homeowner? Was it--?
Freshley: Oh, it was a good transition, from my standpoint. You could do things—like we made modifications to the house. It was our house. It wasn’t controlled by the government—or owned by the government. So that made a big difference. You had a lot more freedom and so on in what you did and how you did it.
O’Reagan: All right. Well, thanks so much. This is very, very interesting, very useful.
Douglas O’Reagan: First of all, will you please pronounce and spell your name for us?
Evelyn Walkley: Evelyn Walkley. E-V-E-L-Y-N, W-A-L-K-L-E-Y.
O’Reagan: All right, thank you. My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral history interview on February 18th, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. I will be speaking with Ms. Walkley about her experiences around this area—around the Hanford area and the Tri-Cities area over the 20th Century. Well, thanks for being here. I understand you moved here when you were just a little girl.
Walkley: That’s correct. My family moved here in late 1943. So I was ten years old and in the fifth grade. And my father was a journeyman carpenter, so he was recruited to come out for the Hanford Project. Told not to bring his family, because there wasn’t housing. But he brought his family.
O’Reagan: Do you remember anything from your life before moving here?
Walkley: Yes. We came from Oklahoma and I remember being on a small farm there. The year, or a year-and-a-half before we came here, we had lived in Leadville, Colorado for a few months. Again, my father was working on some—actually, it was a training facility for the Army, I think, up in the mountains of Colorado. I remember being there, and I was in the fourth grade. Very, very crowded school, and you shared your desks and you did not throw away a piece of paper unless it had been written on margins, front side, back side, because the supplies were in short supply.
O’Reagan: What were your first impressions of—was it Pasco you moved to?
Walkley: Yes. I can remember us driving up—we came over the hills of Pendleton and at some point, hit the Columbia River. I can remember, as a fifth grade kid, knowing that Washington was the Evergreen State. We were getting very close to Washington and I couldn’t figure out where the trees were—how—where is this? We came in to Pasco on a very hot Sunday. We spent the day trying to find a place to live. And there wasn’t one. So that night, my parents parked by the city park in Pasco. We were pulling a trailer and somehow or other, they could raise the lid on this and my parents slept in this trailer. My brother and I slept in the car. That’s where we spent the very first night. No, I take it back: that might have been a Saturday. And then the next day, we went around looking for a place. We found out about this trailer park that is roughly in the area of 10th and Clark in Pasco. Essentially, this was an alfalfa field, and if you had a trailer you could park there. We did not have a trailer, so we pitched a tent that we had brought. The first week we lived in that tent, and there was just a ground cover. My dad started to work. At some point in the next few days, he was able to build a floor and the sides part way up this tent, and then rafters to make it so that you could stand up in it. We lived in that tent for a year. After the year, they were able to buy a little cabin on this place. Of course, none of this—we must have had electricity, but I know that we did not have running water. But at any rate, then they pulled the tent over beside this cabin, and my parents then basically—the cabin was our living room, kitchen, and my parents’ bedroom, and my brother and I slept in the tent. When we were all in the tent, my dad had built double bunkbeds. My parents slept down and my brother and slept up. Because we were all in this 14 by 14 tent. So it’s pretty cozy.
O’Reagan: How did the weather treat you? I would think that would get pretty hot and cold in the seasons.
Walkley: It was. It, I believe, had some sort of a cook stove. And probably that’s what my mother cooked on. I can remember pretty clearly us being newly in this tent and my parents going to get groceries. And during that time, there was wind blowing. When they came back, everything was covered with sand. I can remember my mother just setting down and crying. She hated it; she wanted to go back to God’s country. But you’d learn to live with sand. Now, it was much better once we had a floor. I can remember my mother bringing in clothes from the clothesline and that they were frozen—and it was kind of freeze-dried. But she’d bring them in, and they’d thaw, and somehow or other dried. But it was—if the wind blew, the wind blew, and the tent flapped all around. And if it was cold, it was cold in the tent. And if it was hot, it was hot in the tent. But other people in this trailer park, and other people in the whole area were in similar circumstances. We did not use our car at all while we were here, because the gas rationing points went to whoever my father carpooled with to get to Richland and Hanford. So any place we went, we walked. So you walked to the movies, standing in line. You walked to the grocery store, which, at that time, downtown Pasco was centered in 4th and Lewis, and just two or three blocks around from that. So we walked all of those places. Walked to school. I went to Longfellow School, which—I don’t know how far that was, but I’d walk on 10th Street, and they were building homes to the west side of 10th Street. When the wind would blow, that sand would come off of there, and would just beat against your legs. I can remember that being a stressful time, because there wasn’t any concern about air pollution. And I’m sure that watering trucks were not available to them, and they were building homes as fast as they could. That was because, essentially, the homes in Pasco ended about 10th Street. So it was—when I think about it now, I think it was really pretty primitive and we were sort of poor folks. But then, so was everybody else. And this was all for the war effort. It was—I think the country was 100% into the war effort. Way different than Vietnam and Korea. So we were saving aluminum foil off of pieces of gum. I’m sure we turned it in to someplace. I never knew where that aluminum went to—probably the trash.
O’Reagan: What did you do for water?
Walkley: Oh. We must have carried water from some central faucet. I don’t really remember the carrying the water. But I know we didn’t have any running. I think we did have an electric light. I don’t remember any other electric appliances. We may have had them. I was a ten-year-old kid. I didn’t pay attention. But I know that we did not have any indoor plumbing. There was a wash area in the facilities that we used for at least the first year. The second year, I think we maybe had a washing machine of our own. You just carried water, heated it on a stove. Hot water tanks are really nice to have in a home. And running water.
O’Reagan: We haven’t spoken to very many people who lived in Pasco in this era, so this is really, really fascinating stuff. Can you tell us about any of the other people who lived near you, or any of the other children you met?
Walkley: Most of the other children that I recall early on were native children. They had grown up here. I think that most of the people that I recall in the trailer park were adults. Because they probably heeded don’t bring your families. I know that my parents recruited an aunt and uncle to come up. My uncle worked out on the Hanford Project someplace; my aunt worked at what’s called Big Pasco, which is the big warehouse areas on the river in Pasco. That was all an Army supply depot. My aunt said they had everything from sewing needles to tanks that came in there and were dispersed out. My cousins were older. The place where we lived, that had essentially been an alfalfa farm. I remember my parents talking about our landlords, which were—Fosters was their name—that he had to grow alfalfa and hay to feed his horse. And he had to have the horse because he needed something to help him till the ground. So this just seemed like, stop both of those things and you’re better off! And they did, because they were renting out. I have no idea what we paid to have this tent area. The area in the trailer park—most of the trailers were homemade. There was one Spartan trailer there. I think, maybe, the CREHST Museum had a Spartan trailer. It was aluminum siding and curved front windows. It was a mansion. There was one of those. But I have no experience with the camps that were in Richland and with all of the servicemen that were in Richland. I was a kid, and we didn’t get to Richland, because we were walking. It was—like I say, my mother hated it. She couldn’t wait until the war was over and we could go back to God’s country. But she did find out in 1945, when we did go back for a year and a half that God’s country was economically depressed. So we came back here permanently then in 19—late ’46 or early 1947, and have been here ever since. But as—I believe that the windstorms were worse then, just because of the farming and the construction that was going on. I don’t know that the winds were any worse. But it was a lot dirtier then than it is now. Part of it is different farming practices, not as much construction. And then the people that—when there’s construction sites, now, they’re running water trucks back and forth. And they weren’t doing that in 1944.
O’Reagan: Were you still living in that cabin when you moved back, or did you move somewhere else?
Walkley: No, when we moved back, we actually moved into a basement apartment that was on 3rd Street in Pasco. I don’t remember the number, but it was north of what is now Pasco City Hall. At the time that we moved there, it was Pasco High School plus a junior high school. We were about three blocks from there, and at that point, then, I was in the seventh grade. Like I say, that was Pasco High School and Pasco Junior High School. Then at some point, my parents purchased a home that was out in the middle of nowhere, and essentially it was—there was no housing around it. This was on Brown Street in Pasco, and from Henry to Court, except for their house, there were no other houses. 5th Street to 10th Street, there wasn’t—and that house had just been—I don’t know when the house was built—pre-war, I’m sure. And it was old. They purchased that in probably 1948 or ’49. And essentially there was just a dirt road—two-lane road going to the house. And then it was kind of normal life.
O’Reagan: Was your father still a carpenter throughout this time?
Walkley: Yes, he was doing carpentry work until he retired in like 1968, something like that. And in the meantime, they had purchased a little farm on Road 68. It still is a little farm on Road 68. But he was watering and taking care of a few acres of concord grapes while he was also doing carpentry work.
O’Reagan: Can you tell us about going to school at, you said, Pasco High?
Walkley: Yes. So when we moved back, I was in the seventh grade, and went to the high school, because the junior high was there and, at that time, the north wing was just being built. So you could tell by that that Pasco was really still quite small. My husband and I were in school together, but we did not actually start dating or anything until after we were out of high school. But he actually was a native born, one of the few in the area. His mother actually was born in Walla Walla and he was actually born in Walla Walla, but they lived west of the—what was Central Pre-Mix. It’s somebody else now, but the gravel pit that’s out on West Court Street. They lived on the river where Court Street takes a right angle turn and goes away from the river. So I would say he was part of the downriver people, because their well had to have been Columbia River water. But, like I say, he was a native. His parents had a Chris Craft indoor—not indoor—inboard motorboat—I don’t think I’m using the right term. But at any rate, the government came and said, we want to use your boat. Because they were doing sounding on the Columbia River, and the boat that they had, that apparently was a five horse outboard motor, would not hold the current. So we want to requisition your boat. So apparently my husband’s dad said, well, you can have the boat, but not without me. So he went to work in his boat. And if it was good weather, they did surveying—sometimes in the river and sometimes not. I think if the weather was really bad—and I don’t know whether he went to work or not—but at any rate, at that time, there were really just two big boats on the river, his and I think Havstad’s, which—the Havstad House was what’s now called the Moore Mansion, that’s by the Blue Bridge. So he was—his—my husband’s parents, Glen and Elvira Walkley, were natives. He was PUD commissioner for years and years and active in the community. But let the government use his boat during the war time.
O’Reagan: If you were describing your education, your time in high school to students today, what would be different? Trying to get an idea for what life was like.
Walkley: Different—that’s the like of automobiles. There was one student that I can recall in the whole high school that would come to school in a car. My husband would also come to school in a vehicle, partly because of the distance that he lived, and he was involved with sports and so there was nothing like an activities bus. But I can remember being in the third floor of that building in the home ec room and looking down and see him coming in. And sometimes he rode in a Cushman scooter, and he’d get off and take off sheep-lined leather clothing, if it was cold. Sometimes he would come in a pickup, and sometimes he would come in a truck, because he was a farm kid. Once in a while, he would come in his folks’ Cadillac. And none of us—most of us—just didn’t know about Cadillac cars. The big fishtails on them. But otherwise, people walked to school, or the kids way out in the country rode the bus. It never—for one thing there would not have been the cars available, and you would not have been able to afford them if they had been. I think that’s probably the biggest thing. Of course, the idea of cell phones—we wouldn’t even have dreamt about that. But our communication was talking to one another.
O’Reagan: I guess you still covered—you say you had home ec—I guess you covered the same classes though.
Walkley: I was on a track for going to college. But I was taking—the other thing, probably is they’re doing more advanced studies than we ever did. The highest math that I ever had was solid geometry and trigonometry. We didn’t have any calculus. The other thing is the role of girls. There was one other girl in those two upper math classes; and physics class, I think there were only two girls. Now I’m sure it’s just not that way. Plus, the classes are much bigger. Now, the chemistry class—because I think a lot of people must have had to take chemistry—it was pretty well covered, but not physics. I have a story about college. I went to what was then the College of—Washington State College. I went there for two years and then got married, so went a year at Occidental in Los Angeles, and then finished up at what was then the College of Puget Sound, which is now University, like WSU is a University. My major was economics and my minor was geology. When I was at the University of Puget Sound, one of the requirements was a summer geology trip on the San Juan Islands. I was the only female in this geology class. My husband was in the Air Force. They politely told me that if I would not go on that trip, they would not require it. The reason was they had no facilities for a female on that trip. One weekend campout that we had, they wanted to know if my husband could come. Oh!—I was dumb—I said, sure. You know, is it okay if he comes? Yes, we would like him to come. So he didn’t have duty, and so he came and we slept in the back of our station wagon. And, again, I was so unaware that I didn’t realize they wanted him there as a chaperone because I was the only female in this geology class. That’s something absolutely unheard of—I mean, that sort of thing would not happen today.
O’Reagan: That’s really interesting. Was it your ambition, initially, to go to college? Did your parents have thoughts about you going to college?
Walkley: It was my idea to go to college. My parents, I don’t recall them ever encouraging it, or ever really discouraging it, except that I was so excited when I graduated, because one of the things was I got a $50 scholarship. Well, the economics of things was the $50 wasn’t going to let me go to college. So I did work for a year after high school, and saved money. Because the first year that I went to Pullman, I went there with just about $1,000. And that got me through that first year at college. I must have made enough money in the summer that I could go back the second year. That’s also unheard of now. I think my mother would send me $2 cash a week, so I could—I had $2 cash: I was rich. And even at college, very few students had cars. For one thing, there wasn’t parking, and for another thing, you just didn’t. A few must have, because I know I carpooled with somebody to go and come. But that was different. I happened to be at WSU when Bing Crosby’s twins were going to school there. They had a car, and they would park in front of the library building. Was some sort of a Ford convertible. And they would set there, and I’m sure they were chick magnets, because of their name. But very few students had cars.
O’Reagan: So you transferred from Washington State College to Occidental, you said?
Walkley: Yes.
O’Reagan: Why did you transfer?
Walkley: I transferred there because my husband was going to college at California Institute of Technology, Caltech, who’s part of the LIGO system. And that’s where he was going to school. So we lived in student housing on the Occidental campus, and he commuted. But he was a year ahead of me, because he didn’t have to—he didn’t stay out the year that I did. He graduated, and then he was in the Air Force ROTC after—late summer, he was called into the Air Force. We were in Ohio for a while and then he was stationed at McChord. So that’s why I finished up at the University of Puget Sound, which was, like I said a college then.
O’Reagan: So was he called up for the Korean war at that point?
Walkley: We were between wars at that point. My history is foggy, but it was—I wish I could remember when the Korean War was.
O’Reagan: ’55, I think. Was this the ‘50s, the ‘60s?
Walkley: I know that he served two years. His ROTC class was one of the last that their commitment was two years. He was an engineer. The Air Force had really wanted to try to recruit pilots, but Caltech let the Air Force know that, no, we’re producing engineers and scientists and those kind of folks. You’re better to use them in that than to train them as pilots. So he went in as an engineer and had two years, and then after that, there was no Air Force reserve here. So he would just go to Fairchild during the summer for some training. But there was a period of time that he was on a 24-hour notice that if they’d call him up, he had 24 hours to report someplace. So that might have been Korea. That would have been in the ‘60s. But I hate to kind of show my ignorance of history.
O’Reagan: I’m a historian, I get dates wrong all the time.
Walkley: [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: So when you were assigned to go to college, was that just to better yourself? Was it because you wanted to get a job out of it?
Walkley: I don’t know that I had any lofty reasons. I think it was because I thought that this was what you should do. Neither one of my parents were college graduates. But I had seen my parents working on the farm before the war, and I guess I thought that that’s just what I needed to do to be able to support myself. Now this was before women’s liberation. It was all before that. And then ironically as it turned out, about the time that my husband was getting out of the Air Force, this opportunity to farm what had not been a historical family farm—they had purchased—and Van’s folks, he and his sisters had purchased this farm, because they had had ground at the Eltopia area, which was the Bureau of Reclamation came in because of Grand Coulee Dam, and they chose to not keep any land there. So in a tax-free exchange, they turned the money into buying the place that we farmed. Well, that opportunity to farm came up, so we did a 180-degree turn, and instead of him being an engineer and building highways, which is what he did before the Air Force, we started farming. And did that for 57 years.
O’Reagan: What did you grow?
Walkley: When we moved to the farm, it was all dryland. And this farm was east of Ice Harbor Dam, about five miles. It was all dryland, and so we grew dryland wheat. Because of the farm program, you couldn’t grow all wheat—so we would grow barley and/or rye. In the mid ‘60s, that part of agriculture was fairly depressed, and so my husband had the idea that we’d start watering things. So we started irrigating supplemental, just. And then over the years, we kept adding to this irrigation system. So when the farm was sold in late 2013, half of our acres were irrigated and half was still dryland. So all of that was my husband doing, but we turned a piece of land that was barely giving us a living to something that was really a pretty good diversified farm.
O’Reagan: Why don’t we pull open a map here and see if we can—just get my chair forward here. See if we can get a view of where we’re talking about here.
Walkley: Okay.
O’Reagan: Okay.
Walkley: Okay. All of this really dark area is probably the Snake River Vineyard, and we were next door to them. So Highway 124—got to get my glasses focused here.
O’Reagan: Sure.
Walkley: So basically, our farm was here. And then we wind around some. And then here, this section right in here was not us. Oops! That was a little too much. And so we pumped out of the river at—that’s the spot where we pumped out of the river. So basically, we’re—and this corner section. And then all of this was really hilly, sandy area. So that’s where we farmed. And the dam is here and Charbonneau Park is right in this area.
O’Reagan: That’s a lot of territory. Did you have to get help in farming all that?
Walkley: The first few years, when it was all dryland, we only had help during harvest time. Once in a while, we’d hire somebody just temporary, just doing tractor work. Mostly, my job was chasing parts and cooking for the harvest crew. Once in a while, I’d have to drive tractor for a couple of weeks. This was not anything I really enjoyed doing. And then also bookwork. I did the bookwork for the farm all the time, including the taxes. And I did that until—well, basically, our daughter had a major stroke in 2007, and this took a lot of time with her rehab. So some of our taxes, I had to have a CPA do during some of that time—some I still could do. So I was the bookkeeper and the cook.
O’Reagan: Did other people farming around you grow the same things you did?
Walkley: They did at first, but about the same time we put in irrigation, so did the neighbors. After a year or two of having potatoes, the neighbors then—I think they weren’t selling—then basically went into Snake River Vineyards and concord grapes. And then on the other side of us, it for a long time was still the same—it was either rangeland or the same sort of farming. And then Broetje Orchards went—well, Broetje Orchards and AgriNorthwest. AgriNorthwest, the area that they had out there actually started with some local farmers in Eureka, and that was called K2H. And then it was AgriNorthwest. They went into—virtually everything, then, that they farmed was irrigated. It definitely changed the landscape, changed the economics of it all. A lot of the ground that we would irrigate, we would rent out. Only when it rotated to wheat or maybe soybeans, then, if it was potatoes or a sweet corn or alfalfa hay, we rented that out and then just did the watering for it. We took care of our irrigation system, the sprinklers, and managed all the water.
O’Reagan: Where did you learn to farm? Was this knowledge you had from your parents?
Walkley: No. Van had—when his parents had had land in the Eltopia area, that was dryland wheat farming. So he knew about that. My experience was on a small farm in Oklahoma that was basically a subsistence farm. We had enough cows that we could sell milk to the PET milk company, and a few acres of orchard so we could sell apples. But it was 50 acres of very diversified sort of farming. So that did not give me a lot of experience with over 5,000 acres of dryland wheat farming. My husband knew how to do this, and he was very smart. So we’d go to growers’ meetings and somehow or other, we made it. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: That’s interesting. I’m interested in how people develop their farms, learn new techniques, that sort of thing. Was the Growers’ Association a big deal in the area?
Walkley: Yes. We were involved with the Washington Association of Wheat Growers on a county level. And the County Extension puts on programs. We belonged to the grange. There’s educational things. Visiting with the neighbors. We had to learn how to take care of the ground, because western Walla Walla County, at least where we were, was really lots of sandy loam. Similar to some of the Horse Heavens. So you have to treat that gently, or it’s going to blow away. So we learned, we did different things. One year I can remember, my husband went to Christmas tree sales lots the day after Christmas. He loaded up a truck with Christmas trees. We put those out on sand hills to try to hold it down. We’d spread straw for years and years and years on sand hills. And in fact, when we sold the farm, that was still something that we were doing to try to hold down sand hills. We were also using straw in tracks that the sprinklers make. So you’re using straw in dryland and irrigated both. But back to the wartime, I’m just thinking about how that was. Of course there was various kinds of not just gas rationing, but shoes—I mean leather, and other things. The attitude is so different now. We were content to not be able to buy as many bananas as you wanted, because if they had bananas in, you were limited to buying six of them, for instance. We were all in the same boat. I don’t recall of there being complaints about this. I don’t know if some of those shortages—how people would react to them now, when we’re used to so much abundance. But that’s just what you did. And as for what was happening at Hanford, that was on our radar. We knew it was secret—you know, my dad was just building things. And in fact, he did a lot of building not out on the Project, but in the City of Richland. So some of the older warehouse buildings and things would have been buildings that he worked on. As a ten-year-old, this just did not faze me a lot. When we moved back, the flood of 1948 certainly affected us. My mother at that time was working in Richland, and she was able to take the train from Pasco to get to Richland. And then she stayed there for the week, and then get back again, because the highway bridge—which was the old green bridge, which is gone—that was flooded. And the road through Columbia Park that was the main road, that was flooded. So you couldn’t get there from here. I can remember it all because then I was having to take care of the little strawberry patch that we had. My father was, maybe at that point then, doing construction in Pasco. I don’t recall him having the trouble getting to work that my mother had. But much smaller population center. Schools, much smaller. It was just a very interesting time. I think you all are doing a great job with this project, because the people that really did know about Hanford and everything that was going on, you’ve got to get them interviewed before they die off. Because we’re getting to be pretty old! [LAUGHTER] To have lived through this.
O’Reagan: Were you ever interested in local politics of the area at all?
Walkley: Well, only to the extent that my father-in-law was an elected PUD commissioner. When we were really in the political realm, then we were living in Walla Walla County, and so divorced from the Tri-Cities politics. Of course, nobody asked me my opinion, so nobody gets the benefit of my years of wisdom. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Were you aware of the down-winders controversies? Were they in your area?
Walkley: Yes. We were well aware of those. I sometimes do wonder if—now my husband had—in 2000 was diagnosed with lymphoma. And lymphoma, they think, has multiple causes, and maybe it’s multiple triggers that have to trigger at the right time. I wonder if that had anything to do with drinking Columbia River water. I don’t know, and it isn’t anything that I would pursue. What happened with the iodine releases and the winds, I’m not part of that. I did wonder when Mount St. Helens blew, why there wasn’t a better forecast of where those clouds were going. Because I thought, Hanford area should have had a lot of information on the winds and where things go. So it was surprising that, say, Ritzville and Pullman and various places didn’t know after it blew that—okay, because of the conditions, this is what you’re going to be getting. That was a surprise to me. Way off the subject.
O’Reagan: No. Did that impact your life?
Walkley: It impacted it only peripherally. The clouds were certainly something that I’ve never seen that kind of a cloud before. We didn’t have a lot of ash falling on us for some reason. My daughter was home that weekend, and driving back to Pullman for her was a real experience, because the ash was bothering her visibility. As it turned out, every morning they’d get news, well, don’t go to class this day. So she didn’t need to be there for a week, but she didn’t know that at the time that she’d left home. So it affected her that way. What was usually a two-hour, two-and-a-half-hour drive took her five or more. When she did call that she was there, she really sounded like she’d been through a stressful experience. But then it’s not very often that a volcano blows its top and does its thing.
O’Reagan: During all this time, in the background there’s the Cold War going on and a lot of the fear about nuclear exchanges and all this. Was that ever something that impacted your life or your family’s?
Walkley: Only that if I would go to, say, a state meeting of a group that was anti-nuclear, I could indicate that no, we’re not—as the crow flies—not all that far from the Hanford Project. We’re able to grow crops and not glowing in the dark. And also say things like, when you have tanker trucks driving up and down I-5 that’s carrying liquefied natural gas—have you thought about what kind of a hazard that is? We listened to the fire department radio when the railcar blew up in the Wenatchee railyard and devastated that area. If that train had been in the tunnel, or in Seattle when that happened, the devastation would have been unbelievable. So there are just risks and hazards all over. To our knowledge, this was an area that they were mitigating the risks. I think at the very first, in 1945—I don’t even know that the scientists knew all of the risks, because they were learning, too. But as they learned of the risks, they were taking steps to modify. Probably we’re living in one of the safest areas.
O’Reagan: You say you raised children here, too?
Walkley: Yes. Two children, a boy and a girl, both graduates of WSU Pullman. My daughter still lives here. My son lives in Missouri.
O’Reagan: Did they go to high school around here?
Walkley: They went to school in Burbank. Grade school and high school. And then both went to Pullman right after high school and graduated. My son graduated in 1980, and at that—so he decided he needed to get out in the world of work and took a job with a—actually, at that time it was called Allis Chalmers, Combine Division. So he was still involved with the farm. He was in the experimental section of combines. Then met and married a Missouri girl and she had roots in Missouri, so that’s where he’s been since college. My daughter graduated in 1982, and she worked for—started out with the Farmers’ Home Administration. It’s morphed into part of the Farm Service Agency. She was making farm loans. But in 2002—she moved various places in the state, but in 2001 she managed to get back to working at the Farm Service Agency in Pasco and was helping some on the farm. Then in 2002 she, as she said, quit a good-paying job for longer hours, less wages—what’s not to love? So she was, as she said, following Dad around to learn farming. So she was our main combine driver. But we had other employees at the time, but she was the combine driver and was at the staff meeting every morning at 7:00 and was probably going to be in a position to take over the farm until she had a major stroke in 2007. And that changed those plans.
O’Reagan: Okay. So we’re also interested in the agricultural history of the area and among that, you said you were near one of the vineyards of the area?
Walkley: Right. The Snake River Vineyards, which is the concord grape vineyard. That’s, again, just east of Ice Harbor Dam. I understand it’s one of the largest concord grape vineyards in the world that’s under one ownership. You know, if you look on maps, the whole Columbia Basin is called the Great American Desert. But with water, this magic elixir, you can grow anything in these soils. The amount of diversified agriculture in the Columbia Basin is astounding, if you really would see what all is grown there. There’s things that I don’t even know about. Very, very minor crops that maybe are major in the world. I really think of the Columbia Basin as a breadbasket that is feeding the world, parts of it. We have a really rich agriculture base. The big driver for that change was Grand Coulee Dam, which was power for the Hanford Project, and flood control some, and irrigation. That was really—I see that as a driver a lot for the economic—what’s happened to our area, in its growth. Certainly a big driver is Hanford, but there’s also a huge driver with the agriculture. I don’t even know everything that’s grown there. But I expect that there’s a hundred different crops grown in this area, very productively. I think that our yield of potatoes per acre is better than Idaho’s. At one time there was this saying, well, a good Idaho potato’s grown in Washington. And then Idaho potato people didn’t like that. But there certainly is potatoes and sweet corn and field corn and seed corn and peas and lentils—well, lentils are more Palouse. I think we don’t, maybe, give agriculture or farmers the recognition that they have for what they’ve done for this area.
O’Reagan: Did you ever—were you sort of sticking with crops you knew and had expertise in, or did you think about changing crops for ones that were more profitable at different times?
Walkley: Oh. My husband was always trying different things. Sometimes we were just before our time. I know that he grew some hard white wheat one year. We had to haul it someplace special, not in the area, to market it. We experimented with various things. We grew buckwheat for a year or two. We grew soybeans. In fact, when we grew soybeans, the Farm Service Agency and the crop insurance people had to get through—well crop insurance mostly—run through some hoops, because there was no history of soybeans here. We’ve grown canola. And so my husband was always trying something new. That was just his nature. He was really the driver of what turned that farm into dryland and to diversified. Because as I said, he was very smart and he was always thinking of, how can we do things better? We had older equipment, so it was hard to put GPS on some of them, but we were able to. And we had one fella that worked for us, started working for us in 1974. When we were trying out some GPS, my daughter said, Guadalupe will just hate that. He is not going to want to do that. Guadalupe loved the GPS, because, he said, now I can watch the equipment better, and I don’t have to worry about where I’m going. So the employees embraced it, too. I’m sure that if my husband was still alive, for Christmas he would have purchased a drone. But—yeah, he was very smart.
O’Reagan: Can you tell us about some of your workers?
Walkley: We’ve had all sorts of workers over the years. Like I said, first it was just during harvest that we would have extra workers. Some fellas worked for us—they would come back, year after year. At one time there was three Pasco High School teachers that drove combine for us during the summer. They—every year—would come back. Part of that was because of my cooking. But they seemed to enjoy working for us. Guadalupe, as I say, started working in 1974. When I sold the farm, he was still working for us. He liked to work, and he liked to work for us. Trying to think of some specific kind of workers. Our foreman was from Texas. He was from an area in Texas where they mostly speak Spanish; so was Guadalupe. I know when our last set of employees—people that are still working there—one is from Mexico, with a green card; he’s legal. But a fair amount from Texas. And they started out as migrants, picking asparagus. Then settled down and are full-time folks in Pasco. I think you asked me something else. I’m trying to think what it was.
O’Reagan: I think that was—the most recent question was just sort of about the workers. I guess we could branch out from that to—were there any sort of big changes or trends or—you were telling sort of the history of agriculture around there. Anything that comes to mind.
Walkley: Well for our farm, and the biggest change that affected me was we went from three combines and three drivers and various truck drivers and me cooking for all of them to one big combine and hauling our grain out by semi. So I still did cook for the combine driver, because it was Nannette, and later my grandson. But it wasn’t the same. Early on, when we were running three combines and all of these trucks, I took a hot meal to the field at noontime. So I had figure out how to keep things hot and how to keep things cold. The combine drivers would eat while the truck drivers were greasing the machines. Then the truck drivers would eat. And if one was at the elevator, you just waited out there until they got back and ate. Wherever they were in the field, I needed to find them and I needed to be there at 12:30 to have that lunch ready for them. That all changed. Early on, the combine drivers would stay out on the farm, and I was feeding them three meals a day. Later on they didn’t do that. I will say that for truck drivers, my husband found that our very best truck drivers were females. Part of that is because they would listen; you could teach them. Because they knew they didn’t know how to drive these trucks. Now, found out that the boys—now, they didn’t know how to drive the trucks, either, but they’re not going to admit it, and they’re not going to listen. The best truck drivers, typically that we had, as a generalization, were females. They’re easier on the equipment, and they’re teachable. And some of them spoke at my husband’s memorial service. As did some of the fellow workers that we had. To me, the driving truck was the worst job on the farm, because you had to park the truck so that when the combine was emptying, chaff wasn’t blowing back on the combine. Because early on, there were no cabs on these, and no air conditioning. My husband, who was driving combines said, I’m eating that dust all the time. I am not going to eat it while I’m unloading. So the driver always had to be parked just right. The truck driver’s just always getting in trouble because they weren’t parking just right, or they were getting stuck. I’m sure that some of these poor truck drivers would just do their best, and they would be stuck, and they’d have to call the combine. There was the times that my husband could, maybe, dig a little or put a thistle underneath a tire, get in and drive that truck out after this kid had been working and working, trying—and it must have just—if it would have been me, it would have just made me gnash my teeth! But that happened more than once. One of the girls that drove truck for us, at his memorial service said, I got stuck, and she said, I didn’t want to get stuck. I knew not to do that. But I got stuck, and Mr. Walkley had to come over and help me. And he came over and I was just so worried about it, he was going to be so mad at me. He came over and he said, do you know how to not get stuck? Don’t drive. And she said, that was the end of it. And he got me unstuck, and it was all okay. [LAUGHTER] But living on a farm is just—it is also very different from someplace else. Especially when you live there, because you’re always on the farm. Something comes up in the middle of the night. You’re just there, and you handle it. Once we got irrigation, there was a lot of things. My husband would get up in the middle of the night and go out and check the sprinklers. Or he’d get up and look in the bedroom window. We had a pressure gauge, and if that pressure wasn’t what he thought it should be, go out and check the farm and see what’s going on. So it’s a 24/7, 365 job. At least it was for us, because we lived on the farm.
O’Reagan: Well, there’s always a lot that I don’t know the right question to ask.
Walkley: [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: What should I be asking?
Walkley: Oh! I have no idea. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: We’re interested in--
Walkley: You’re supposed to be guiding me.
O’Reagan: Sure.
Walkley: Because we’re really digressing into farm and farming history. Which is different than the Hanford Project. And so I don’t know the right questions, either.
O’Reagan: Well, so, we are interested in Hanford and the impact Hanford had on the community, but that’s not the only thing we’re interested in. We are interested in the agricultural history of the area. We’re interested in what it was like living in or around the Tri-Cities throughout this whole period. Day-to-day life, or how things have changed.
Walkley: Yeah. In day-to-day life, because of the rationing, and us choosing to put our car up on blocks, we walked everyplace. We went to the movies a fair amount, which is, in a way, kind of surprising to me. But when you went to the movie, you had to stand in line. And the line could be a block or so long. But I remember standing in line, but a bus coming up with the Italian Prisoners of War that were here, that were housed in the Big Pasco area. They didn’t have to stand in line. They just went on in as a group. I could understand that, but yet—[GRUMBLES] And the entertainment was going to the movies. Now, I think for the military that was here, there was a USO building on the north side of the big park in Pasco. They would have things going on there. And I know in Richland, there was all kinds of actors, for instance, that came and entertained the troops and the folks that were working there. But that wasn’t part of our life, because we didn’t live in Richland. But I can just remember walking, doing a lot of walking everyplace. Doing without certain things—now, we never went hungry or anything like that. But there were frills you just didn’t have. Somehow or other, you entertained yourself. Partly because—I know for my dad, he probably put in long hours of working. You go home, you eat and you go to bed. The next morning, you get up and eat and go to work. But for a kid, for thinking about going to a Playground of Dreams or going here for entertainment, walking the malls for entertainment—that just wasn’t part of our life at all. I can just remember kind of playing out in the dirt. Because there weren’t a whole lot of lawns, and I know where we were living, there wasn’t. There was the remnants of the alfalfa field. Later in high school, my friend and I would—I didn’t realize it, but we were essentially babysitting her little sister. She lived in a regular house on 10th Street. At that point, we were living out in this house in the middle of nowhere, it seemed like. But to go from my place to her place, we’d have to drag her little sister’s stroller through the sand. Just that—of course, we didn’t have—there was no television. We had radios, you’d go to the movies, and that’s where you’d get a lot of the news, because they would run a newsreel first—before the main. There’d be a newsreel and there’d be a comic and maybe even a sing-along with a little bouncing ball, and you’d all sing. That is totally unheard of. Have you gone to a movie where you’ve—the whole people are singing something?
O’Reagan: No.
Walkley: And the words are on the screen with a little bouncing ball. But the newsreels—that’s where we got our information—video information, anyway—about the war, and what was going on. I remember listening to Edward R. Murrow and Walter Winchell, who was talking to “North and South America and all the ships at sea.” I can remember December 7, 1941, and us being glued to the radio. Probably it was a battery-operated radio. When I was a kid in Oklahoma, we did not get electricity until maybe 1939 or 1941. So we had no electricity, no running water, no indoor bathrooms. The house was eventually wired and we’d come home from school looking to see if the meter was on the meter base, which meant we had electricity. You had to pay for a minimum of kilowatts, whether you used them or not. We would watch that. And the minimum, as I recall, was 35 kilowatts. You use 35 kilowatts in half an hour now. But we had a fixture with two lightbulbs in the living room, and a matching fixture in the bedroom with one lightbulb. And this was brilliant! I mean, we could see so good! I remember those two light fixtures. I don’t remember what was in the rest of the house. Later, we had an electric-driven cream separator that was very tall. It was as big as I was. You had to crank it first to help get it started before you could switch it on to electricity. I just remember my job was cleaning the innards of this cream separator. If you’ve never done that, that is a hateful job. But something that everybody ought to have to do at some point, is clean an electric cream—now I liked putting it together. It’s very interesting, very fascinating. I liked taking it apart and putting it together. I disliked washing it. But that’s not anything you want to know. Agriculture--
O’Reagan: I also understand that unlike Richland and also in a lot of ways unlike Kennewick, Pasco had a more diverse population in a number of ways. Was that ever something you experienced?
Walkley: Yes. We did. We had some Japanese families. And because, as I understood it, the line that divided whether or not the Japanese had to go to internment camps was the Columbia River. So the Japanese in Kennewick were taken to internment camps. The ones in Pasco were not. But the Japanese area in Pasco, their businesses and where most of them lived close to their business, that was off-limits to the military. The first meal that we had when we came to Pasco was at the M and M Café, which was down by the underpass in Pasco. And it was run by the Japanese. First time in my life I’d ever had oyster crackers. But that area was—and I’m not even sure if the military was here at that point—but later on, that area was off-limits to the military. Now, some of these were second generation Japanese, and they were no threat to this country. They were fine, upright people. There were a few blacks in the area, and basically they were in the east Pasco area. They were—my understanding—very discriminated against in Kennewick, but allowed to be in Pasco. We had a black student in my high school class, and he was one of the class officers. His name was Duke Washington. He was a very good football player, and in fact played football for WSU—College at that time. As I understand it, when they were going to play some team in the South, the WSU coach was told, don’t bring that boy with you. But the coach said, we’re bringing him—and they did. And he was a star football player. Now, I—again, I was young and ignorant—I think I was unaware of a lot of things—I don’t know that he was discriminated against. I expect that he was. But I don’t recall a lot of blacks being in our high school. And there should have been, for the number of black people that lived in east Pasco. So I don’t know whether they weren’t welcome in school—I’m not sure what that was really all about, because I was not aware enough of what was going on in the community to know that. That’s probably another difference between when I was a student, and students now. Because I think that students now—probably a lot of it is social media—they know what’s going on in their community. I thought I knew what was going on, but I don’t think I did. So all of this awareness of social things—I think that’s very different than it was when I was in school. And then we didn’t learn things in high school that students are learning now. Because I know I never had any calculus.
O’Reagan: All right. Well, that’s all fascinating stuff. Anything else that leaps to mind before we wrap it up?
Walkley: Oh, I’ll probably think of oodles of things when I go home.
O’Reagan: Well, we’re certainly open to follow up discussions. That oftentimes leads to even better discussions once people have time to think about what else there is to say.
Douglas O’Reagan: My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral history interview with Everett A. Weakley on January 13th, 2016. Interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And I will be talking with Everett, or Ev—would you prefer Everett, or--?
Weakley: Just—yeah, Ev or Everett. Either one.
Douglas O’Reagan: Okay. About his experiences working on the Hanford site. Okay, well thanks for being here. So—you were just telling me while we were having some camera issues—I’d love to hear about sort of how you got involved with the Hanford site, what you were working on that brought you here, and then your sort of early years, what you were working on here.
Weakley: Well, they came up to University of Idaho and recruited people. And I was one of the ones they recruited. So I came down here, and they put me on work at the tritium program extraction process. So I was a process control engineer at that time.
O’Reagan: Do you know why they recruited you? Were you working in physics?
Weakley: They were after engineers, especially chemical engineers at that time.
O’Reagan: I see. Did you know anything about nuclear science specifically?
Weakley: Oh, no. We didn’t know squat. [LAUGHTER] Of course. Because we were up at University of Idaho. But it was a lot better than being drafted and sent to Korea.
O’Reagan: How much were they able to tell you about the job before they hired you?
Weakley: Very little. Very little. They didn’t tell us what was going on. They came down here and they put some people—engineers in this job, some in this job. I was selected for tritium extraction.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. Could you tell me about your first experiences on that job? What sort of the first month or two like? Do you remember?
Weakley: Well, they put us on shift work. I think it was called XYZ shift. And it was only five days a week, but it was—changed. So they were going 24 hours a day, but only for five days. It was a glass line at that time. Tritium was extracted and then you had to send it—you had to pump it out through palladium windows—that’s the way they got the hydrogen out, and the tritium and the deuterium. And then we had to collect those in glass containers. It was all hooked up to the system. And then we were designing one for a metal one. So I went in on the metal designs also. And most of that work was done in the shops down in—oh, what do they call it—the old Hanford site. They had a lab—or a place down there, and they did most of the work—construction work. And then they assembled it all. It was interesting work, actually. Because they kept me out of the Korean War, also, so I was happy about that. I didn’t want to go over there.
O’Reagan: Part of what we’re trying to get an idea about is sort of—what was it like working on the Hanford site? Is there anything that sticks out to you about the way things worked? Or the structure, or anything like that?
Weakley: Well, since I was a single guy, they put us in the dorms. They ran out of dorms, so they put us—there was two dorms that were down in the women’s dorm area. So they put us in one of those dorms down there. I remember there was a—what the heck street was that? Anyway, those women’s dorms were right close there, too. And then we’d go up and eat at the Mart, which is still here, but it isn’t called the Mart now. And we’d walk through this field of—I think they were prunes or plums or something like that. And you’d go through there and you’d get attacked by the birds. [LAUGHTER] They would actually attack you during the daytime. So it was a lot of things going on. For dorm club, we’d go down to—oh, the Blue Mountains, and we’d go up to Mount Hood, and hunting and fishing was always what I did. It was a good place. Lot of people. It was interesting, because everybody was new, had come in. It was quite the exciting time to see all these people from all over the United States.
O’Reagan: Did you live in the dormitories long?
Weakley: Oh, let’s see. I lived in there until I got married in ’53. Then we got a B house on Van Giesen Street—one end of it. And I wasn’t the oldest tenant, so I could not buy that anyway. I wouldn’t want it anyway. And then they started selling houses; I got a H house, south end of town and had to remodel that. Had to dig out the basement and all that. By that time, I had several children, so I kind of had to make room for all these kids. Took out the chimney. My wife did not like the coal-burning stove down there to heat the place. So we put in electric baseboard heat. Swamp coolers on the windows. Re-put new—took the chimney out. Had to put new roofing on. All that sort of thing. And later on, we moved to where we are on Pike Avenue now. Then we had more kids. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Keep you busy.
Weakley: That’s right.
O’Reagan: What was life like in Richland in the ‘50s?
Weakley: Well, it was kind of—there was always something to do. Mainly, down along the river in the park. We’d go down there for entertainment in the evenings. There’d be dances. And then I took up square dancing, my wife and I. So that was in different places, but mainly at the end, it was down in the—what do they call it, down there now? At the park. Oh, community house. It’s still going. I think this is their last year. We used to be on what’s now a hole in the ground, on the south end of that building, was where they used to have a structure. That’s where we danced, it was in that. And they had a kitchen in there; everybody’d bring food. It was a nice time. Had a lot of fun.
O’Reagan: So you said—do you feel it was easy to get integrated into the community, to be a part of the community at that time?
Weakley: What do you mean?
O’Reagan: Well, I’m just thinking in terms of your—you’ve been describing a very interesting social scene that people can get into. I’m just thinking, there were a lot of new people coming into town. How—you yourself, of course, experienced this—what it was like to be a new resident in Richland.
Weakley: Well, mainly you were in dorms. So, you were all right out of college. Here you are, a bunch of college kids, here—men, and then college women right next door to them. So there was a lot of dating going on. Then we’d go over to Pasco, to the Elks Club at that time. And on Friday nights, they always had a fish dinner. We’d go over there and dance and eat. That was a good time. That was ballroom dancing, it wasn’t square dancing. That was later.
O’Reagan: So returning to your work for a minute, I guess to some degree you’ve done this, but could you sort of describe a typical work day, and did that change over the long course of time that you were working there?
Weakley: Well, when I went out there, I had to work shift work. XYZ shifts. You’d work daytimes, evenings, and nighttime. I didn’t like that too well. Then when I went to 300 Area, I was all daytime, which I liked.
O’Reagan: How much did the work you were doing change as you got these successive promotions, as you got the new jobs?
Weakley: Here?
O’Reagan: Yeah. I mean, when you were an engineering assistant, was your—I’d assume—if only because it’s decades earlier—how different was your work than when you were principal engineer or senior principal engineer?
Weakley: Well, the added responsibility, of course. And I spent a lot of time in the old reactor fuel and then I wrote a lot of documents on how to—the canning process. And that’s probably in here—I’m pretty sure it is.
O’Reagan: I noticed here, it says that you are an expert on fuel manufacturing environmental issues. I wonder what—when did that become a priority? The environmental issues, was that something that was always part of your work, or did that develop over time?
Weakley: Environmental issues—you worried about what was going out the stacks, especially in 313. We had slug recovery—we’d take the aluminum—the ones that were reject—and they would dissolve the aluminum cans off in caustic, and they always had this exhaust going out. If you didn’t watch it, it would suck out quite a bit of moisture with it, and that would have caustic in it. We had trouble with the women walking by—their nylon hose would disintegrate. And they didn’t like that. I don’t blame them. And you could feel it—you could feel it on your face. They had to fix that up, of course.
O’Reagan: Were safety issues or the environment ever something you were concerned about working there?
Weakley: Oh, yeah, I was always worrying about—And then at the 306 Building, making fuel elements for the N Reactor, I was involved in that—a lot of things. I had to make trips to the aluminum companies that made aluminum products for us. Bought them back east, and some of them in California. So I did a lot of traveling, going to these different places, trying to get improvements made in aluminum ore, and later on, Zircaloy-2. That was Wah Chang made that down in Oregon—made Zircaloy-2 for us. That was interesting. So you’d take a drive down there and visit their plant. And then you’d go to these other places and visit those plants.
O’Reagan: These were to get components for the fuel manufacturing?
Weakley: What’s that?
O’Reagan: Were these trips to get components for the fuel manufacturing?
Weakley: They were making components for—
O’Reagan: I see. How much—let’s go with this. Could you describe the ways in which security and/or secrecy impacted your work?
Weakley: Well, you couldn’t talk about what you were doing, and we knew that. I made a lot of trips—I went to National Lead Company in Ohio at Fernald. That’s the ones that we would get our uranium cores from, for the old reactors. Then I’d go down to Mallinckrodt in Weldon Spring, Missouri, and that’s where they started making the billets that they’d send up to—on Lake Erie. There was a place that’d take the big billets and make smaller billets for the N Reactor. So I was always traveling around. Then at the same time, I was going down to the Savannah River plant and checking on what they were doing, because they had the same people. Like me, engineers that were busy and they’d get together and compare notes, and try to get the lower prices on some things. Especially aluminum components for the old reactors. Nothing much you could do about the Zircaloy: it was pretty well fixed. The only plant I never go to was the one that made the braze rings for the N Reactor fuel. That was back in—and it had beryllium in it. And I never had gone to there. I don’t know—I just plain missed it for some reason. I don’t know why.
O’Reagan: Was it easy to communicate with all the engineers and workers at these plants, or did the secrecy ever sort of inhibit that?
Weakley: Oh, no. If you’re buying, say, Zircaloy stuff, you go right down here in Oregon and talk to them. And that’s what we did.
O’Reagan: Okay.
Weakley: Same way back east on the aluminum plants. Did a lot of traveling. My wife didn’t like that, I don’t think, but we had to travel a lot. And it was old airlines at that time. [INAUDIBLE] had an airline to go to Spokane. You could catch a plane from there, it takes six hours to get into—now takes just a few hours.
O’Reagan: Was it unusual that you were traveling that much? Did other people also travel that much from the Hanford site?
Weakley: Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, a lot of people were traveling. It’s hectic now. I won’t get on an airplane anymore, so heck with them. [LAUGHTER] I’m retired; I don’t do that.
O’Reagan: Do you feel the security or secrecy of the place changed much over the decades?
Weakley: Oh, yeah. When I started here it was really secret. They didn’t want the Russians to know anything about making tritium. But the secret got out, because somebody in Savannah River—or down at Oak Ridge probably told them. So nothing we could do about it.
O’Reagan: Right.
Weakley: But oh, yeah, they tried to keep it secret.
O’Reagan: What were the most challenging and/or rewarding aspects of your work at Hanford?
Weakley: Ooph! That’s a tough one.
O’Reagan: It’s a big question. Any particular times that you were working on a project that was really stumping everybody? Any real challenges there that stick out?
Weakley: Well, there’s always challenges to make things safer and better, and don’t dump stuff out into the atmosphere, or down the drain out to the ponds. Because at that time, they ponds along the river. And it discharges—a lot of stuff went into that pond. They tried to clean that stuff up, but—oh, yeah. When you have time to go through this, you will find a lot of things in here that I worked on.
O’Reagan: Is there anything in there that you’re particularly proud of having accomplished? Or that sticks out?
Weakley: Well, I lasted the whole—until I got laid off. [LAUGHTER] That’s an accomplishment—I didn’t get crapped up with anything.
O’Reagan: Did you like your job?
Weakley: Oh, yeah, I liked it. Oh, sure. It was a challenging job. I wrote a lot of manuals. That’s one of the things I did, a lot of manual writing when I was out there. There are still some of those around on the processes of lead-dip canning process, and co-extrusion process. I did a lot of writing.
O’Reagan: Have the Tri-Cities changed much in your time living here?
Weakley: Oh, yeah.
O’Reagan: And how?
Weakley: Oh, yeah, since I came in ’50? Oh, yeah. There’s a lot of changes. They couldn’t even allow the blacks to live in Kennewick. They had to go over in Pasco, for instance.
O’Reagan: Right.
Weakley: So we didn’t see too many blacks, actually. Now towards the end, they started hiring some people in that were blacks. I had no problem with them.
O’Reagan: Yeah, we’re trying to get a sense for how the community has changed over time. I know that’s a vague question. That’s certainly an interesting point about the demographics of it. Anything else about sort of the social life, the number of things going, anything else like that that sticks out to you on how the community’s changed over the decades?
Weakley: Well, I always had been hunting and fishing. So when I came here, I took up hunting and fishing again. Some of the people that I—I belong to the Rod and Gun Club—joined that many years ago, and I still belong, even though I got rid of my guns last year. I don’t go out and dig goose pits in the middle of the winter anymore. That’s too cold. I didn’t like to eat geese, anyway. [LAUGHTER] But I had a lot of good trips hunting down the Blues and up north of Spokane, up in that area.
O’Reagan: One of the things—well, okay. Let me go to this one next. What would you like future generations to know about working at Hanford and/or living in Richland during the Cold War?
Weakley: Hmm. That’s an odd one. Well, for one thing, we couldn’t announce what we were doing anywhere. If you could, you made sure you didn’t. If they said, hey, you’re from Hanford. But it didn’t bother me on traveling too much. Because I’d usually go on to aluminum vendors or Zircaloy-2 vendors. Or I’d go to Savannah River plant, which has got the same restrictions as we have. And it was a free exchange then when you went there or you went to National Lead at Fernald. It was free exchange with the people there. So that was just like being at work. So I had no really problem with it. I didn’t really like traveling that much. But there was nothing I could do about it.
O’Reagan: You were mentioning your collaboration people at Savannah River. Can you tell me more about that?
Weakley: What’s that?
O’Reagan: You were mentioning your training people at Savannah River, is that right? Or just trained people who eventually were at Savannah River?
Weakley: No, they were—I met one of them. But they sent people up in tritium extraction. Because they built that plant for tritium. The guy that was running the tritium extraction plant was one of them that I trained. And the last trip I made down there, I met him and went into the tritium extraction plant with him and talked to him. He gave me a tour of what it was like. It was a lot different than what we had out here, of course. Then they shipped their stuff again to Oak Ridge.
O’Reagan: Okay. So, I’m also interested in how people commemorate their community, how people celebrate the history, or try to remember the history. I understand that you’ve been involved in some of the historical groups around here. Can you tell me something about that? Why you thought that was important, why you got involved with those groups?
Weakley: Are you talking about the Richland Rod and Gun Club, for instance?
O’Reagan: Well, them and also the B Reactor Museum Association and so on.
Weakley: Well the B Reactor Association, I was one of the earlier ones, before they got the Indians out there. It was interesting, because I was on the ground floor with them. In fact, I was in a meeting this week with them. I still belong to them. Just like the Rod and Gun Club, I still belong to them, even though I don’t—got rid of all my guns because I don’t go out and dig goose pits in the wintertime anymore. So it was interesting.
O’Reagan: I always find that there’s an awful lot of things that I don’t know that I should be asking. What could you—what would seem important or interesting that you might want to talk about, or think might be worth discussing that I might have not thought to ask? Anything that comes to mind?
Weakley: Hmm. Not right off the top of my head, it isn’t.
O’Reagan: Sure, that’s fine.
Weakley: [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Yeah. We’re just trying, as I said—we’re most interested in getting a feel for life in the Tri-Cities throughout the Cold War, up to the near present. And just how things have changed over time. What it was like to be a worker on the Hanford plants, how work on the Hanford plant changed over time, what it was like living in the community and getting to know people. So really, a broad set of things, but there’s always questions I don’t think to ask.
Weakley: Okay. Well, you might have some ideas when you go through this later on. They gave me this, had my payroll number on it and all that. My service dates, 6/19/50 is when I came here. And payroll number 51500 was pretty easy to remember, thank goodness.
O’Reagan: As you went through this, did anything—
Weakley: Huh?
O’Reagan: As you started reading through this again, did any memories leap to mind? Did anything about it sort of jog any fond memories or any surprises?
Weakley: Well, we always had surprises. We never knew what was going to happen. Item—let’s see, what is that? Item four.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm.
Weakley: I would ship pyrophoric uranium Zircaloy chips and fines back to National Lead. And we had surprises there, because they were supposed to use metal pallets. Somebody brought in wooden ones. And they put all these things that we had full of concrete and chips and fines in it, and they had to take them over across the street into a building. And when they did that, they heated it up and it broke one of the containers, and it caught fire on the shipping containers. They weren’t supposed to use shipping containers. That was a hell of a mess to clean up. Because we had a fire, had to clean all that up then. But we actually shipped the stuff back there and they recovered the uranium and reused it.
O’Reagan: Well, I think that’s the written questions I have here. There are certainly a lot more interesting stuff here. Again, if anything comes to mind you would like to speak about, we would love to hear a bit more. Also, it mentions here that your historical knowledge of site activities, particularly in 300 Area, has been extremely valuable in the preparation of the RCRA and CERCLA documents and planning. Could you tell me anything about that initiative?
Weakley: Whereabouts are you?
O’Reagan: It’s number five, sub-point A.
Weakley: Oh, okay. I did a lot of document writing and preparations of these RCRA and CERCLAs documents and planning. And I worked with—what’s her name? Michelle Gerber?
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm.
Weakley: I worked a lot of work with her, as she was a kind of historian. You’ve probably met her, of course.
O’Reagan: I know the name, but I haven’t actually met her, I don’t think.
Weakley: You haven’t met her?
O’Reagan: I don’t think so.
Weakley: Amazing. I’m surprised you haven’t met her yet. Anyway. She needed a lot of work. I would find things in 300 Area when we were cleaning out for the old reactors, getting 313 cleaned out. We would find movies. I’d ship that out to her, and then she made a CD out of it, I think. It showed the canning process, which had never been done before. It was—
O’Reagan: Do you think the history of your job is going to be well-preserved? Do you think the records are still there that can reflect on your times, your work? That is again, sort of an open-ended question here. I’m just trying to think through how people will remember this time in history, and sort of the work that you were involved in. You’re mentioning you found this film and were able to get it out there. But probably some materials didn’t make it out, for security reasons or whatever else, or just weren’t preserved. Do you feel that people have an accurate memory of the time as you look through?
Weakley: Well, most of them, I think, do. I always rode a bicycle around, between the buildings out in 300 Area. I would collect lead parts that I’d see laying around and get rid of them—or pick up anything else. So that I would ride those into the building. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: I saw—I was out at the DoE’s artifact collection—historical artifact collection. They have some bicycles out there that I guess were what you were describing, people traveling around the site. Was that common?
Weakley: What do you mean?
O’Reagan: You were using bicycles to get around the site?
Weakley: Well, it was in our area. Oh, I used it all the time. And it had a basket in the back wheels. I’d put something in there—I would collect lead brick or something like that, and put it where the lead’s supposed to be and kind of clean things up. Well, it was a pretty good-sized area, 300 Area, so if you had to go down to the south end for some reason, you wanted to get there and get back.
O’Reagan: Right. Okay. So as I said, I think these are the questions that we had prepared, sort of the general ones here.
Weakley: You might have some questions when you—well, you can use anything you want out of this write-up.
O’Reagan: Yeah, I think this will be a great help. This has been very interesting from my perspective here. We certainly thank you for your time. Yeah, I think that’s at least our first set of questions. But maybe if anything occurs to us, or to you, maybe we could send follow-up questions? Would that be okay, if any questions—
Weakley: Oh, yeah, you can always get ahold of me if I’m around. I don’t go travel too far since I’m 88.
O’Reagan: All right. Well, thanks very much. We appreciate your time.
Weakley: Oh, she’s still back there.
O’Reagan. Yeah.
Weakley: [LAUGHTER]
Douglas O’Reagan: Okay. Well, thanks for being here, first of all. To start off, would you please pronounce and spell your name for us?
Sue Olson: Sue, S-U-E. Olson, O-L-S-O-N.
O’Reagan: Okay, thank you. And I am Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral interview here as part of the Hanford Oral History Project. It’s February 5th, 2016. This interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So just to get us started, would you please tell us something about your life before you came to Hanford? Where you were growing up and so on.
Olson: I was born in Claude, Texas. I graduated from Panhandle High School as valedictorian in my class. I went to Texas Woman’s University in Denton, Texas. Then went to University of Texas in Austin, Texas. I was—[COUGH] Excuse me. I was in college in an accounting class at the University of Texas in Austin when World War II was declared. I heard the President declare World War II. So at the end of that year, I took a civil service test as clerk typist and I started working for US Corps of Engineers. I first worked at Pantex Ordnance Plant in Amarillo, Texas, and I had to transfer to Tyler, Texas to an army replacement training. And then after that, I received a teletype that I was to enter in for Hanford. We had received a teletype from a lady who had transferred up here, and she had said, don’t come here. It’s rattlesnakes, sagebrush, and dust storms. [LAUGHTER] So I transferred to the Manhattan Project in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. And Manhattan Project had three areas—I worked for the army major who was in charge of one of the areas there. DuPont was the contractor there. And at Oak Ridge, I met Robert Olson, who was with me at DuPont. Before I met him, he worked at the University of Chicago to work on the Manhattan Project—he worked on at the University. And he transferred to Oak Ridge; I met him there. We were married there, and then we transferred to Hanford, with DuPont. We arrived here October 1st, 1944.
O’Reagan: What sort of work did you do at Oak Ridge?
Olson: Well, he and I were at DuPont getting ready to work. The work on the Manhattan Project was to develop the bomb. That was what it was for. And he worked at Oak Ridge.
O’Reagan: Do you know what sort of—was he working in chemicals or physics? Do you know what sort of work he was doing there?
Olson: No, because it was all secret.
O’Reagan: I see. And did you say you were also working there as a clerk?
Olson: I worked as a secretary for the Army Major, who was in charge of the X-10 area in Oak Ridge.
O’Reagan: Okay. When you arrived at Hanford, what sort of work did you undertake here?
Olson: Oh, I signed up to be secretary and DuPont was the contractor here for the first year or so. And they sent me out to 200 West Area to be in the stenographic pool. I was the only secretary there. There were several departments, and all the departments brought their paperwork in to me. [LAUGHTER] And I took dictation for all of them who wanted to write letters of any type. Then they sent another girl out—another secretary out, but she couldn’t take dictation. So I did all of that. There were several departments. I don’t remember the names of all the departments, but it was a major process.
O’Reagan: Was it similar to what you were doing at Oak Ridge, or was it a new kind of work?
Olson: It was the same kind of work, secretarial work.
O’Reagan: Right. What was your impression of the Tri-Cities when you arrived? Was it like you had been warned?
Olson: No. [LAUGHTER] We drove along the highway south of town, and Bob looked over and said, there it is. And we could see a few houses. We went to the hotel to check in at the hotel, and the hotel was called the transient quarters. [LAUGHTER] The hotel in Oak Ridge was called the guest house. We were in the hotel about three days. Then we moved into—at that time the houses were assigned to people. There were only the two of us, and so they moved us into a one-bedroom prefab on Winslow Street.
O’Reagan: In Richland?
Olson: Winslow Street in Richland. And there was one street behind that, and behind that street was desert, all the way out to the river.
O’Reagan: What were your impressions of the house? Did you like the house?
Olson: Well, the house was adequate. It was 600 square feet.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. Had a question and it went right out of my mind. [LAUGHTER] Okay. So could you tell us, what was an average day at your job? You said you took dictation, but what other kinds of work—
Olson: Typing. In 200 West Area in 1944, it was typing. Except for the people who dictated. One man came in one day and he dictated the evacuation process, which took him several hours to do it. And the evacuation process—if it had ever had to happen—the process was that it would be on buses—cattle car buses. [LAUGHTER] The seats were on the sides of the bus, vertically, not horizontally across as they are in most buses. But there was never an evacuation process. There was preparation for it, if it had happened.
O’Reagan: Interesting. I understand the transportation to get to jobs on the Hanford site was difficult. Did you take buses?
Olson: Well, there were buses. There were buses, yes.
O’Reagan: Was that a long commute?
Olson: Yes. I don’t remember the number of miles, but it’s a long commute from Richland into the West area.
O’Reagan: What was your husband working on?
Olson: He worked on—it was a group of scientists that were—13 or 14 or 15, something like that—and they wrote the separations process. Which was part of the process.
O’Reagan: I guess that was probably a different part of the Hanford site from where you were working?
Olson: No, it was in 200 West Area, too. Yes. And it was a group of scientists who had transferred from Oak Ridge along with Bob.
O’Reagan: Right. Could you please describe Hanford as a place to work? It’s a broad question. Let’s see—what were some of the more challenging aspects of your job?
Olson: Well, that I typed for eight hours a day. I typed or took dictation eight hours a day. No coffee breaks, nothing like that, and everything was confidential. Nobody discussed their job with any other person.
O’Reagan: I would guess you would have had to have had pretty high clearance to be taking dictation on all these sensitive matters. What was that process like?
Olson: Well, I worked in Two West and then I transferred to B Plant, and I went to 300 Area. My next job, I worked for Wilfred Johnson when he was assistant general manager. And I worked in the 703 Building. I had Top Secret clearance there. So I had kept the filing cabinet locked. I took dictation from him. The rest of it was the type you’re making phone calls.
O’Reagan: When did you find out about what the goal of the Hanford site was, to make the weapons?
Olson: When the bomb was dropped, I read it in the local paper.
O’Reagan: What was your reaction?
Olson: I was happy. That the US was going to be safe.
O’Reagan: Right. Do you—trying to think how to phrase—is that your impression of that’s when everybody around you found out as well, or was it sort of a general surprise that the—
Olson: Yes. It was a surprise to everybody, I think. That’s my opinion. Except the men like my husband who were working on it.
O’Reagan: Did you continue working at the Hanford site after the war?
Olson: Yes. I worked there for ten years.
O’Reagan: Did your work change substantially once the war was over?
Olson: Well, as I said, I worked as a secretary in 200 West, and then I moved to B Plant. And I worked in B Plant, and then I went to the 300 Area and was a secretary for the head of metallurgy. And then I had the job as—I was then an executive secretary for Wilfred “Bill” Johnson. And I retired after that period.
O’Reagan: Did the workplace environment change in that time? You mentioned there were no breaks at first.
Olson: Change in what way?
O’Reagan: You mentioned it was very focused work during the war, no breaks, really concentrating to get the job done. Did that become more relaxed eventually, or was it still the same pace?
Olson: Not in the jobs I worked on. Everybody was there to work.
O’Reagan: Interesting.
Olson: No coffee breaks, nothing like that.
O’Reagan: Interesting. How about—can you tell us something about your life outside of work during the wartime?
Olson: We skied. Bob was from Wisconsin. He was a skier. And I grew up in Panhandle, Texas, and I did not ski. But I took lessons. And we skied on weekends.
O’Reagan: Where would you go?
Olson: We went to the closest one, over by—the closest one, which was south of East Richland. Tollgate. We went to Tollgate and skied there. And then we went up to the Snoqualmie Pass, and we skied there when it had only three rope tows. Before they put in any kind of lifts. It was—and I don’t remember the year for that, but—shortly after we got here, we went to Snoqualmie Pass.
O’Reagan: Did the social environment—did life in Richland change for you outside of work once the war was over?
Olson: Well, there were a few more activities, because while the war was going on, there was nowhere to go. [LAUGHTER] We had a friend from Oak Ridge we played bridge with part of the time, and then we skied weekends.
O’Reagan: Did you feel it was easy to meet new people when you moved here?
Olson: Did I feel--?
O’Reagan: I’ve heard some people say that when they first got here, they had a very easy time meeting people; I’ve heard other people say when they got here, they were so focused on the work, they didn’t get to meet as many people—
Olson: Oh, no, no, because we had friends from Oak Ridge who were transferred who were scientists. And people who were at work in that kind of work. So we visited with them, and they—we all had a little group, all the people that came from Oak Ridge. So we had several friends.
O’Reagan: Let’s see. Could you describe any ways in which security or secrecy at Hanford impacted your work?
Olson: Well, of course. [LAUGHTER] No visiting, no coffee breaks—we worked.
O’Reagan: Did the secrecy continue outside of work? I’ve seen in some communities that people feel that they can’t talk about the work, and that sort of gets—someone last week was describing how she sort of felt she had to be on her guard about speaking about her work. She was afraid of that. Did you feel any sort of sense like that?
Olson: We didn’t discuss—we did not discuss work, because we were busy with whatever we were doing—playing bridge or dancing or skiing. So there was no reason to discuss work.
O’Reagan: Sure. When you retired from being a secretary, you mentioned you eventually got into real estate. Is that right?
Olson: Yes.
O’Reagan: Was that right away, or did you have a [INAUDIBLE]
Olson: No, it was not. My husband died in 1974, and so I was at home. I did volunteer work for 20 years. I had no plans to go back to work, but after his death, I decided to work in real estate.
O’Reagan: Will you tell us about your volunteer work?
Olson: Oh, yes, Kadlec Hospital Auxiliary, and Mid-Columbia Symphony Guild, and Girl Scouts. All types of volunteer work.
O’Reagan: Great. What kinds of things did you do at the hospital?
Olson: Volunteer work. I would go down at 7:00 in the morning, and I answered the phone in one of the departments—I think it was the children’s department, that was part of what I did.
O’Reagan: And when you started getting into real estate, can you tell me about that?
Olson: Yes, yes. I took classes at CBC. I studied hard for it, and I passed the test. I started to work for a company called—let’s see—Sherwood and Roberts. They were a company that had offices in this state and California and some other state. I worked for them four years, and then I transferred to other companies.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. Did that job change over time? I know the communities started expanding during that period—
Olson: Oh, well, yes, there was more work as the company got larger.
O’Reagan: Could you describe any ways in which you think of the Tri-Cities as changing over the first couple of decades you lived here?
Olson: Well, it got larger. Larger, and they built more houses out past Winslow [LAUGHTER] Winslow Street. Well, of course it changed. There were more activities. Everybody was more—and there were people transferring in and out from large companies. There were a lot of people who came here who had worked for other companies that came here. And some had worked for General Electric or whoever the major contractor was.
O’Reagan: Let’s see. Of course, during a lot of this era, the Cold War is going on as well. Did you feel that that was something sort of just off happening in the world, or was that something that you felt impacted your life?
Olson: The Cold War?
O’Reagan: Yeah, of course, there’s sort of this global conflict going on. There’s a lot of still building nuclear weapons, there’s thinking about use of nuclear weapons. Some people have described sort of a fear during that time, and other people have described they were happy—they went about their work and it didn’t bother them.
Olson: No, there was no fear to me personally. I was happy to see that the US was doing a job extremely well. I hoped it would continue to be good.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. Let’s see. This is a general question. How would you like future generations to know about working at Hanford and living in Richland during the period that you lived here?
Olson: I think they should all be very proud of it, because it ended the war.
O’Reagan: Right. Is there anything that you think children growing up today might not know about this period?
Olson: I have no idea whether they know or not.
O’Reagan: Sure. Is there anything you think, beyond—sorry, I have to—trying to think through, just—as people have lived here for some time start thinking back on their lives in the community, how they would like people to think about the history of the local community? I guess you’ve answered that to some degree: we should be proud about the contributions of the time. I guess what I’m trying to get at is—what was different in, say, the ‘60s or the ‘70s, in living in this era than it is today? Anything come to mind?
Olson: I don’t think there was anything different from living in any good community or city.
O’Reagan: One of the local community leaders here—we understand you knew Sam Volpentest—
Olson: Yes.
O’Reagan: --who contributed a lot to the local history. Would you describe your knowledge of his impact, what he was working on when you got to work with him?
Olson: He was a major impact. He saved the Tri-Cities time after time after time. He made contacts in Washington, DC and he kept them. He flew back and forth frequently. Without his perseverance, the Tri-Cities would never have become as good as it had been. He kept sure that Hanford was going, which, at that time, was a main project in the Tri-Cities. And the best one producing.
O’Reagan: I always like to ask—what have I not asked about that I should be asking about? What else should I be asking you about?
Olson: Oh, I don’t know. Nothing else. [LAUGHTER] I think you asked very well, thank you.
O’Reagan: Well, if anything comes to mind, or anything you’d like to expand upon comes to mind, we’d of course love to hear it.
Olson: All right, thank you.
O’Reagan: But otherwise, thanks so much for being here. It’s been very interesting.
Olson: Thank you.
O’Reagan: All right.
O’Reagan: Okay, great. So let’s start off here. First of all, would you please pronounce and spell your name for us?
Ballard: Well, my first name is Delbert L. Ballard. Leo for center. D-E-L-B-E-R-T, B-A-L-L-A-R-D. And I go by Del, commonly.
O’Reagan: All right, thank you. My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral history interview here on February 18th, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. I’ll be talking with Mr. Ballard about his experiences working on the Hanford site, living in this community. First of all, can you start us off just—walk us through your life in sort of a brief term before you came to this area.
Ballard: Well, I was raised on a dryland wheat farm in Montana, so I know what work is all about. And I was a student in a little high school that was only seven of us in our graduating class. So I was sort of a country boy, and went to college at Montana State University. And I graduated from there in 1951. Just prior to that, the General Electric Company, of course, had been there to do interviews. They were scoping for—recruiting for engineers and I was a civil engineer graduate. There was other recruiters through, too. I had an offer from a San Francisco shipyard, and another from the Soil Conservation Service in Montana. But I wanted to get a job with GE. So I’d had the interview, but no really positive award or recognition that they were going to give me an offer. They were interviewing a large number of people. So graduation day came around and I still hadn’t gotten a letter from GE. But the mail came that morning, and lo and behold, there it was. So I was really pleased at that. So my initial job right out of college was coming to Hanford and working for General Electric Company as a rotational training—in the rotational training program. They had hired that year, the previous year, actually ’49, ’50 and ’51, they had hired about 300 or 350 tech grads. And I was one of the later ones getting here; I didn’t get here until July. So most of the good jobs were assigned. But in the rotational training program, my first assignment was a rather mundane assignment to the transportation department. Next one was a more interesting job with the inspection department. That was over in the shipyard in Bremerton. At that time, Hanford was undergoing I believed what they called the Korean expansion. The Korean War was underway and in full force at that time when I got out of school. As a matter of fact, I thought I was going to be drafted, but I tried to enlist and—I’m diverting here a little bit, but—tried to enlist in the Air Force to be a pilot, but my eyes weren’t good enough, so I got rejected for that. [LAUGHTER] So when I knew that the GE job was a deferred job, I thought, well, that’s an alternate I’d just as soon pursue. So anyway when I got here on the rotational training program, that’s what it was. Individuals were assigned to different locations for training purposes and for filling job needs. The second assignment was, as I said, inspection department in the shipyard in Bremerton. At that time, they were fabricating—the shipyard was fabricating the biological shield blocks for the C Reactor. It was one of the expansion efforts at Hanford, increasing the production capacity. So that was an interesting job over there at the shipyard doing inspection and learning a lot about inspection techniques and components and so forth. Another month after that, I was rotating around the Seattle area inspecting other components that were being manufactured for the C Reactor. C Reactor, as you know, was the one that was built right alongside of the B Reactor out at Hanford. It started up in ’53, I believe. But out of the rotational training program, I was assigned into construction area out in the 300 Area. They were fabricating laboratories for building the laboratories out there. Radiochemistry, radiometallurgy, pile tech, machine shop, and a library at that area of the Hanford—300 Area was just under construction. So I got assigned to help in the field engineering in that job. It was an interesting project. I learned a lot there in that job. And from there I went into other project engineering work, including in later years, the K Reactors were under construction and I was involved in laying up the graphite of that reactor, K East Reactors. I stayed in project engineering with GE all my life—or all my employment time was with GE. They left here in ’64. Yeah, Battelle came in ’65. Two of the projects that I followed after K Reactors, one of them was the critical mass lab in the 300 Area, which was a facility for evaluating critical shapes and sizes for plutonium missiles. It was a research job, research facility. That project was a lump sum construction and plant forces for the completion of putting the process equipment in. The next job I had was the High Temperature Lattice Test reactor in the 300 Area. That’s a reactor that probably hasn’t gotten much publicity. It was a small graphite reactor. But that was a job I was very proud of, because I was the sole project engineering function at the time. The design was done by an organization that was just brought on as GE was being phased out. It was the Vitro Engineering Company. They had a detailed design of the job, and the construction was done lump sum, and then J. Jones did the reactor installation. I can tell quite a bit of detail about that reactor, if you’re interesting. [LAUGHTER] But it was an experimental facility also for evaluating different lattice spacings for graphite moderator reactors. It was electrically heated—it operated up at 1,000 degrees centigrade, so that graphite, looking through the peepholes in the reactor, you could see white hot graphite, which is sort of an interesting thing to see. But that project was not large in comparison to today’s funding levels. But it was a three- to four-million-dollar project. I finished the job and closed it out with less than $200 left on the books and no overrun. [LAUGHTER] So I got a commendation for that job, which I was quite proud of. But from there, then I diverted into other project engineering jobs. One was in Idaho Falls. We had a test facility over there, putting in test loops in the engineering test reactor. That was closer to reactor operations type work. We had to modify an operating reactor. But that was some of my interesting project years before I got into jobs later on, which was the FFTF and the FMEF. Fuels and Materials Exam Facility. I always make the statement that every project, or every job that I worked on up until the FFTF was completed and put into operation. Every project after FFTF was shut down and closed down before it was completed. [LAUGHTER] So that was kind of a breaking point for me. Hanford, of course, reached its peak in production, and I can talk something about that as far as reactor operations is concerned. But I wasn’t really in operations, I was in engineering, and had jobs all over the Project. So I never was tied down to one location. It was interesting. So I had an interesting career in a lot of different projects. I enjoyed my work, and had a good time and a good married life and I can go into that, too, if you wish.
O’Reagan: So you say you were with GE this whole time? You didn’t switch over to different contractors as they came in?
Ballard: Well, yes—no. I just with GE until they left.
O’Reagan: I see.
Ballard: And then Battelle came in ’65. So I was with Battelle for ’65 until ’70 when Westinghouse took over the Breeder Program. Initially, Westinghouse was just brought in for the Fast Flux Test Reactor, to manage that. And I happened to be working on a development job. That’s one I haven’t mentioned yet. [LAUGHTER] When Westinghouse came in, I was assigned—that was my first manager job. I had a group, or a section in the 321 Building in the 300 Area, and a job which was identified as the hydraulic core mockup. And we designed, built and operated models to evaluate the design configuration for the FFTF. So we built water models to look at a lot of different features: the reactor vessel arrangement, and the core arrangement and the structure. And the inlet planning and outlet planning. We built several models. The two biggest ones were the inlet model, which evaluated the sodium distribution in the inlet planning and feeding characteristics for the fuels channels. I worked on that job for seven years. And then during that time, of course, FFTF came under construction. Our group actually influenced the design which was being done by Westinghouse back east. There was a lot of the features in the arrangements and shapes of the vessel and the flow distribution and the core that was determined by that hydraulic core mockup test facility. Then when they started putting the reactor together, I was assigned to construction out in 400 Area. I spent the whole year inside the reactor vessel, helping the engineer put the parts together. One of our humorous comments about FFTF was, from our perspective was FFTF, do you know what that stands for? Yeah, it sounds for feel, file, to fit. [LAUGHTER] Fill all the tight tolerances and all the arrangements necessary to make everything fit and throw it together. It was well-engineered and well-designed, but it was still—engineering problems had to be resolved in the field. So that was another interesting project. Following that, then I spent seven years on the FMEF, the Fuels and Materials Exam Facility, designing and coordinating the design—the management of the design, which was done by an off-plant architect engineer. And there, again, that was a project that was not completed. It was shut down when the Breeder Program was curtailed. So, following that, I could go into more details where we did for various and sundry work, but it was all toward the new mission for the Hanford site, which was cleanup, starting in that field in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. I retired, officially, in ’89. But I worked consulting for four years after that. So my career actually spanned from 1951 to 1994.
O’Reagan: How disappointing was it when FFTF got canceled?
Ballard: Pardon me?
O’Reagan: Was it disappointing when FFTF got canceled?
Ballard: It was very discouraging, yes, that they were going to close it down. When they drilled a hole in the core support structure, like drilling a hole in my heart. [LAUGHTER] Matter of fact, I’ve got some pictures to show that I was the last person in the FFTF vessel before they closed it up and started it filling it with sodium. Matter of fact, after that closure—after the photograph that I have, I’ll be happy to show you—they had an accident with the fuel charging machine which went up to the top of the travel and the upper limits which failed and it dropped down on the core and broke some of the components that I was so—[LAUGHTER]—proud of getting installed properly. Core support structure. And we had to go in there and do some repairs. But then I, after that, I left the FFTF and went to work on the design of the FMEF. [SIGH]
O’Reagan: Did life sort of change day-to-day when you switched these contractors? How different was it working for these different companies?
Ballard: The only change that I could see was the difference of the color of the paycheck. [LAUGHTER] As a matter of fact, when we transferred from—let’s see if I can remember which contract that was—was it GE to Battelle or Battelle to Westinghouse? I don’t remember, but the end of that day, we were terminated and I happened to be at a party down in one of the local pubs which I didn’t very often frequent. But somebody said, who do you work for? And I said, at the moment I’m unemployed. Because that was the day we left one contractor and started with the next one. But the transitions were quite smooth, I would say. I mean, of course, policies changed and your managers changed. At one time, in a two-year period when Westinghouse came in, I think I had 13 different first level and second level managers above me change without in those two-year period. So there was a lot of personnel changes. But a lot of us working closer to the ground floor, there was very little change.
O’Reagan: So, let’s back up a moment. What were your first impressions of Hanford and the area?
Ballard: Well, I came here in the summer—it was in July. I got here on July 3rd of 1951. I was assigned to the barracks out in North Richland—women’s barracks as a matter of fact. That’s when all the dormitory rooms were filled up in Richland for the men’s dorms. So I was assigned out there for my quarters. The next day, I learned that you didn’t have to drive the buses around, you could ride the city buses or the plant buses. Plant buses, to ride to the area was five cents, and city buses, I don’t remember whether they were five cents or free. I rode that bus the next day that I went to work, and it was 105 degrees that day. And I thought, my lord, what have I gotten myself into? [LAUGHTER] This is horrible temperature! But I was young and willing to accept anything that came my way, so I guess I didn’t think it was too serious a problem.
O’Reagan: How aware were you of the mission of Hanford before you came here?
Ballard: Very little, probably. I knew that it was working on the war effort, but at that time, nobody really—well, yeah, I guess it was known they were producing plutonium or weapons for atomic weapons, but as far as the details concerned, I knew very little. As any engineer—young man right out of college might be. Because I didn’t know what the plant—the structure was. But they gave—they told us and we got the information from the co-workers and the other students. It was quite interesting, because all the youngsters that were working, everybody—not the majority of people, but a large percentage of them—were fresh graduates. The older bunch were the 30- and 35-year-olds working on the site. That’s when I met my wife shortly after that in ’53. But we were married in ’53. But I met her in ’52 at a social that was put on by YWCA, Young Women’s—YWCA organization. They had church-sponsored dinners one night a week and that’s where we met. So we’ve been married for 62 years now.
O’Reagan: Were there a lot of those sort of social events?
Ballard: A lot of those that happened. As a matter of fact, the organization—I was the third set that the president and the secretary of that organization got married. [LAUGHTER] She was the secretary when I was the president of the organization. [LAUGHTER] Which was sort of comical, I guess.
O’Reagan: What sort of things did you and your wife do in your spare time in the ‘50s and ‘60s?
Ballard: Well, I guess bridge playing was one, and social events. We went—there was—they had a group that she was involved in called the Fireside Group that had functions and went camping and things like that. But we played a lot of bridge then.
O’Reagan: Where did you live?
Ballard: Well, I was living in the dormitories, of course, when we were married. I lived in North Richland in the women’s barracks for a short time until the rooms became available in the dormitories in Richland. That’s where I was living when we got married. Of course, housing was another whole story. You had to put your name on a list to get a house. They were all assigned by the government. All the housing was, of course, controlled and owned by the government. So you had to get your name on the waiting list to get a house. We were fortunate; we got a duplex, a C house up on Wright Avenue. I got that assigned in less than a month before we were married. So when we were married, we had a two-bedroom duplex house up there available. That’s where we moved in and lived there until 1957 when the government decided to disperse the property. They started selling vacant lots in 1957. We were a junior tenant in the duplex, so we couldn’t make an offer on the duplex. The senior tenants had the right to buy the duplex. So I was quite aggressive in my ownership philosophy, decided to buy a lot. We purchased the lot on Newcomer, the first property that was sold. And we built a house. I started building in March of 1958. As a matter of fact, we built—our house was the third privately built house in Richland. We had a house and were living in it before Richland was incorporated. They incorporated the city in July of ’58. That was of course the second official designation as a corporation because Richland, of course was a corporation—I mean an incorporated city before the government took it over in ’43. We built that house and I have pictures that I brought of the fact it was one of the first ones in Richland. And we’re still living in the same house. I don’t know what that says, but [LAUGHTER] I guess stability for one thing.
O’Reagan: Were you involved in local politics at all?
Ballard: In what?
O’Reagan: In local politics at all?
Ballard; No, not really. They asked me a few times if I wouldn’t run for the city council, but I never did. No, I’m not a politician. I didn’t want to get involved in that.
O’Reagan: So you described a number of different jobs you were doing over the first two decades or so that you were here? Could you walk us through, at least for one of those, what was sort of an average work day like?
Ballard: Well, let me see. There was one—I guess all of them were similar in a lot of respects. I was doing—on those jobs, I was doing project engineering. And that meant the coordination of, and the I guess you’d call it management, although there was, of course, the organization like GE, there’s so many levels of management that comes through that it’s a little hard to say you managed it, because you have so much supervision and overhead actions that are taken on a project, for example. But on most projects, the engineer—the project engineer would write the project proposal based on what the technical department would have as input for a required facility, for example. Like the high temperature lattice test reactor, the physics department had specified the programs that they were involved in would want to look in more detail at the lattice spacing in graphite reactors, for example. So they would write a document which would specify what their objective was and what their basic criteria was for that facility. And project people would issue—maybe take that and issue an order for another group to do the detailed process—conceptual design, or do it themselves. We’d do it sometimes on small projects. We had projects all the way from modify one laboratory all the way up to a whole facility. So it’s hard to describe the same process for all of them. But it was office work, engineering work. Some of the times I was in a design group where we actually doing detailed design work. But most of my work was in the project engineering field where we were seeing the work done by others. Or specifying details or managing the people that were doing the detailed design work. But it was office work, and of course when construction started, that’s when the project engineers were more in control, because they were directing the contractors as far as the field work was concerned. It was always an interesting job, an interesting challenge, I thought, preparing contract bid packages. Office work, lots of times the projects were out in the field, of course, out in the Area. We’d drive government cars to go to work. That was an advantage. Of course being in engineering rather than operations where you had more control of your time from the standpoint of individual management. Because we’d use government cars for transportation. We didn’t have computers in the early stages, obviously. When they came out with DSIs, Don’t Say It In Writing, that was a big move, too. [LAUGHTER] But certainly a lot of progress and a lot of technology changes over the years.
O’Reagan: How much were security or classification a part of your work?
Ballard: Well, it was certainly in overview all the time. All the documents, if a job had classified work on it, you had to get the documents classified, and follow the restrictions for those particular elements or documents, whatever’s involved. Most of the time, of course, construction was not too rigidly controlled or administered, I guess. In later years, because the, for example, research work was not really high classified. Most—a lot of it wasn’t. But it was something that was always there. Of course the badging was always—I remember one time incident I had which was funny—rather humorous. I was in a meeting out in one of the hundred areas, in a back room in some building and we were having a discussion. All of the sudden a door burst open and two patrolmen came in and said, where’s Del Ballard?! I’m over here. [LAUGHTER] Hey, come with me! They took me by the arms and whisked me outside and outside the badge house. I said, what’s going on? What’s the problem? They said, you don’t have a badge! I said, what do you mean I don’t got a badge. I looked at it and it was somebody else’s badge—name on it. They had given me the wrong badge! [LAUGHTER] So they were, I guess, vigilant in their control. But some of the times you thought it was a little overreach. It was always there, that’s for sure.
O’Reagan: You mentioned a couple jobs not necessarily at Hanford—I think you said Idaho Falls at one point, or other locations around?
Ballard: Yes, we had a project—I guess I sort of skipped over that—in the Engineering Test Reactor in Idaho Falls. The fuels people here—research people—wanted to do some testing in the Engineering Test Reactor with certain issues or problems that they were trying to develop from the fuel technology. So we put in two high pressure loops over there. Again, I was the project person on it. I didn’t do the design work, I did the procurement and the construction management. Philips Petroleum was the operating contractor over there at the Engineering Test Reactor. So I went over there and saw that those loops were completed and put in place and in operation. It was in 1958. I spent, well, most of that year over there, back and forth. My wife was really unhappy, because that was the year that we had started our house. So I had—coming home on weekends and trying to keep that sorted out. Because we had a foreman working with the carpenters building the house. So it was kind of stressful for her. Yeah, and then I had to go back for the next year after that for some cleanup work on the project. It was another project that was managed by Hanford, but installing a reactor over there.
O’Reagan: I’m curious how sort of insular Hanford was, versus how much it was common for people to get advice from outside of the Area, or to travel to different facilities and learn what they were doing, or share what you were doing with others?
Ballard: Well, I think that’s probably more prevalent in the technical field than it is in the construction area. Yeah, there certainly was in a nuclear complex, there was—and we did have travels. I did visit some other sites. Occasionally the laboratories on some of the projects we had. But most of that was done by the technical department, not the engineering department.
O’Reagan: How much has the community changed, and in any particular ways during the time you’ve lived here?
Ballard: Well, it’s gone from a small community to a much higher-traffic area than it used to be. But the people say it’s still pretty mild. Of course I’ve traveled to Los Angeles quite a bit; I had relatives in Los Angeles. And I’d grow accustomed to that mainly down there too. But it’s still—the Tri-Cities is still a nice place to live, I think. It doesn’t have a lot of the big city hubbub that other places do, but it certainly has changed a lot from what it was when I came. My wife came in 1944. Of course that was when it was sand and dust piles and no trees and no grass. It was a lot like that when I came, too, although it was developing. But the first few years that the Manhattan Project workers were here, they had some pretty rough goes. Of course the government would operate a city was an entirely different situation than we have now with private ownership and private management of the company—or local management of the company there. When the government operated the city, it was—you’ve heard these stories before, I know. Even lightbulbs were changed by the employees of the government. [LAUGHTER] So that was a big change. But when we got married we were renting from the government but as soon as they sold the houses we built our own and were on our own. So we’ve lived pretty much as a private city in all of our married life. So that hasn’t been a major change.
O’Reagan: Anything else—nothing else in particular I’m fishing for here—did anything else come to mind, as far as changes in, I don’t know, spirit of work at Hanford or changes in the communities?
Ballard: Well, the government management of the Hanford site has certainly undergone lots of changes, much as our society has, I think, over the last 50 years. When GE operated the plant, I felt and a lot of us felt that the program was defined in general in scope and the contractor was given a block of money and there they went. They did the job. They didn’t have the oversight or the detail management or the daily exchange as much with the government, I think, as they do now. I think that’s been a change in philosophy or change in detail of management more. A lot of it is because the public’s been more closely involved. Like the different committees that are involved in the oversight with the DoE that they didn’t have at that time. Of course when the Manhattan Project started, it was even further away than that. Nobody outside the Project knew what was being done. They were building the atomic bomb and nobody knew was done except the organization involved in it. Now, anything the government does it’s public knowledge and has 100 different reviews over a period of a decade before they get anything done. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Of course all these decades we’re talking about here are during the Cold War, and nuclear weapons are wrapped up in a lot of that and nuclear power. Was that ever something that was on your mind, or that were you aware of? Or was that just something that was going on far away?
Ballard: No, I think the Cold War and the conflict with Russia was well-known because of all the cautions and concerns about the atomic weapons and people—during the crisis that peaked in the early ‘60s and we were in hard conflict with Russia. A lot of concern about what might happen. It was a different era and there was a lot of awareness of the potential that there could be a nuclear conflict.
O’Reagan: Did it ever impact your life, or your wife’s life more or less directly?
Ballard: Well, I don’t think we—we thought we were protected, we thought we had the national security to take care of it. And I guess we didn’t really worry about it—it was something you didn’t really dwell on, I don’t think. Although they told the students and the kids—some people did build bomb shelters. My neighbor, Dr. Petty, they had one at their house under the lawn in the front yard. When they built the house, they put in a bomb shelter.
O’Reagan: [INAUDIBLE]
Ballard: Nobody knew about it but them, but I knew about it. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Did you ever see the inside of the shelter?
Ballard: I never was in it, no. But I know it’s there.
O’Reagan: Let’s see. So I guess we’ve sort of covered this. Could you describe the ways in which security and or secrecy at Hanford impacted your work?
Ballard: Well, I guess from the work that I did in the engineering specifications and drawings and documents that related to projects, we had to worry about the classification on them. You had to worry about the access—access to different projects at different facilities. Of course you had to have the right clearance. So it was a restraint on work in some respects. But it wasn’t a major impact, I don’t think.
O’Reagan: In more recent years—well I guess I don’t know how long—you’ve been working with the B Reactor Museum Association and other groups interested in the history of the local community. Can you tell me how you got involved with that and sort of the history of that?
Ballard: Sure can. I retired in ’89. And then as I said, I went back to work on a part-time basis. But during that period, the Environmental Impact Statements had been written, and the mission at Hanford was changing from production to cleanup. All the documents and all the philosophy that was being disseminated was, we were going to tear everything down and dispose of everything in the Project. I was the representative to the Tri-City Technical Council. It was a group of only local affiliate—all local agent—sections or groups from the technical society’s engineering—civil, mechanical, electrical, nuclear, women’s organizations—all the technical organizations had what they called a Tri-City Technical Council. And we met monthly and addressed the issues for technology dissemination or issues that might affect the community from what we might recommend or so forth. From that group, we learned—we knew what the DoE was getting into, transition-wise into the cleanup of the site. They were going to tear everything down. And we said, well, we don’t want that to happen to some of these historic facilities. The B Reactor, for example, was the world’s first production reactor. And it was very consequential from the history, both of our nation and the world, as far as that. And also the kick-off for nuclear power. So we said, we ought to do something about that. So we formed a committee. I was one of the people of that committee. And we met in July of 1990, was our first meeting. We talked about an organization and how we might form a group that would lead toward the preservation of B Reactor. We decided to form an association. So we had an attorney draw up our bylaws and we formed an organization called the B Reactor Museum Association. We got our state corporate action—I forget what word they use to describe the initiation of the organization in January of 1991. But I consider the organization being formed in 1990. And our objective was to educate the public about the historical significance of B, and to do what we could to preserve the reactor, to see that it was preserved. To gain access and to develop exhibits and so forth for the exhibits. So that was where we started, was way back in 1990. And all during the decade of the ‘90s, we were meeting and fighting with the Department of Energy because they had milestones after milestones that were established on the cleanup and disposal of all the reactors. B was put into the list later on, but it was always on the list for cocooning, as all the reactors would be. We got those milestones extended over the years. And finally, with persuasion and meeting with legislators, Sid Morris and I met with Sid Morris and—I don’t remember the year now, but it was one of the first times that he was sympathetic for the theme that we preserve the historical relic. And of course, later on Doc Hastings. We had many meetings and persuasions with all the legislators. Of course, Cantwell and Murray got on board over the years. It later progressed into the fact that we want to have a study to see if the Parks Service could preserve it. One time during the late ‘70s, I believe it was, several people thought that the REACH would be the only chance of preserving the B Reactor. They would be the ones that would sponsor the tours and provide for the access and so forth. I said, no, I said, I don’t believe that. I said, I think we want to get the Parks Service involved because I don’t know that even the REACH is going to have the muscle to do it. So we got meetings with the legislators and we got a study authorized for the Parks Service study. That was after two or three years of trials and tribulations. It was finally approved. When the Parks Service first came out—you’re probably aware of the fact that they didn’t have—they just had Los Alamos as the sole main site for the park. And we said, that would never sell. It had to include all the sites: Oak Ridge, Los Alamos and Hanford. So they revised their study and made it a three-site park. It was eventually approved and then later legislation—Doc Hastings and Cantwell got the park legislation authorized. BRMA of course has been involved—has been the agency chipping at their heels all the way through all this. [LAUGHTER] We finally got credit for it. For many years, they didn’t really recognize BRMA as the organization that made it happen, but I think we had an awful lot to do with what made it happen.
O’Reagan: Were you ever associated with any of the other local history-related groups?
Ballard: Well, yes. We were affiliated with the CREHST museum. We worked with them and the REACH also. But we were the ones that were pushing—BRMA—the B Reactor specifically. We still have a lot of partnerships. We had memorandums of understanding with DoE and the CREHST and with—I guess we don’t have one with the REACH but we still meet with them. Matter of fact, they’re working on this new exhibit for the Cold War exhibit. Of course they’ve got—there’s four of us from BRMA that are on those meetings, but there’s a lot of other community leaders involved, too, obviously. And that was what happened is we were the—BRMA was the organization that was in the trenches early on. But later on, the whole community and the region and the legislators all got on board. So there was a lot of emphasis and support for getting it preserved and getting it converted, or made into a national historic park. Have you seen the plaque out there at B Reactor that says we’re the ones that initiated the plan to preserve it. So, yeah, I’m quite proud of that. I was one of the founding members of the organization.
O’Reagan: Why did it matter to you?
Ballard: Well, it’s important, I think, to preserve the history. It’s a significant part of the nation’s history. And if it’s going to be educational for the—a good place for the students, the young kids to come up and learn what the nuclear industry’s all about. I still say—and I’ve said for twenty years—that—I don’t know how many years down the road it’s going to be, but I think nuclear power’s going to be a major source of energy. Commercial electrical as well as all the other fields—medical and research. It still has an important place to play in our total nation’s history, I think. And we need to know how it started and what problems it caused. Let’s not generate those again.
O’Reagan: What would you—
Ballard: So that’s the story that’s going to be told in the park, and I think a lot of people—that’s some of the emphasis. People come out and see the comments in the paper, all the negative comments. Well, that’s true, but the story’s still there and needs to be told.
O’Reagan: What would you like future generations to know about working at Hanford or living in Richland during the Cold War?
Ballard: Well, I don’t know. It was a challenge, I guess. The success—I’m glad that we developed the bomb rather than Hitler. Like how Fermi said, he said when he was working on fission in Italy in the late ‘30s—the 1930s, yes. He always said he was eternally grateful that he didn’t learn how to control fission then. He said if he had have, Hitler would have started the war with them, rather than us ending the war with them. So I think they need to know what the conditions were at the time that the Manhattan Project was built and what the world was undergoing at the time.
O’Reagan: What else should I be asking about? What else is there that we should discuss?
Ballard: I don’t know! I think I pretty well spilled everything I know. Unless—I don’t know. I could mention about my—as you know, I was not here during the Manhattan Project. It was over when I came in 1951. My wife and her family was a different story. They came with DuPont in 1944. So her dad was a DuPont employee and he came out here at that time and saw the conditions in employment problems that they had at that time. He was a machinist and had actually directed the tech shops out there for many years. So he probably—that family has more history of the Manhattan Project than I do. Mine is just history. It was—I’ve had an interesting career and I guess I’ve enjoyed it here and it’s been a wonderful place to live. I think it will continue to be if we have people that keep our city from growing into something that it shouldn’t be. [LAUGHTER] But I guess I don’t have any new subjects to talk about unless you have new questions.
O’Reagan: I think—that’s my list for now, but thank you so much for being here.
Ballard: Well, it’s been a pleasure.
O’Reagan: All right, great.
Tom Hungate: I had a question.
O’Reagan: Please.
Hungate: One of the jobs you had—you had a wide variety of jobs; all of them sound fascinating to me.
Ballard: Oh, they’re interesting, yes.
Hungate: One caught my ear, because I’ve seen these. Tell me what it was like when you said you worked on the K Reactors to lay—you said you were laying up the block. Tell—describe what that process was.
Ballard: Well, I wasn’t involved in that deeply as a lot of the fellows were. I can’t remember his name right now, but the primary engineer that had the graphite technology. That graphite was machined in the 101 Building. Well, actually the old reactor’s was in the old 101 Building in White Bluffs. They built a new building, the 2101 Building in the 200 East Area which was specifically for the graphite machining and layup—test layups. Those blocks were built to very tight tolerances. The graphite came in in square blocks from the manufacturers and they had to be machined to the final configuration. Those tolerances were very, very tight, like plus or minus two mils or five mils at the most. The blocks were basically four-and-three-quarters inches by four-and-three-quarters inches by 40-some inches long—the main block. After they were machined to very close tolerances, they were test stacked in the 2101 Building, laid up ten tiers to be sure that the tolerances of the assembly were precise. And from there they were packaged on pallets in sequence that they would go in, in reverse sequence, so when they took them off they were ready to be stacked up. And then they were shipped—brought into the reactor vessel, lowered down into the open process area in the center part of the core and pulled off the pallets and just stacked, piece by piece. There’s pictures available that you see of the old reactors. There may be some of K Reactors too, I don’t know, but show inside the reactors when they’re laying up with the blocks. Of course everybody’s in whites. Your cleanliness control’s very important. And of course, obviously, sequence was very, very important, to have all the blocks in there. But from my perspective, I just watched—I wasn’t doing the work, I was just part of the process that was putting them in there. It was very closely controlled and very temperature controlled—well, no, I don’t know about the temperature. The building was under limited temperature control. But the cleanliness was strictly controlled, and the workers of course had been assigned with each pallet that came in, they knew where it went and how it was to be laid. But that was the same process that was used in all the reactors for graphite layup. But that’s amazing, the way they built those things. You have all the penetrations, like—I can’t give you the numbers. K Reactors were bigger than the old original reactor. The original reactor had 2,004 process tubes. You probably all know the story of that, too. [LAUGHTER] But what I started to say was, the alignment of the holes in the blocks, of course, had to line up with the holes of the penetrations of front and rear faces precisely when they put them in. So it was like putting a watch together on a 40-foot-square [LAUGHTER]—40-foot cube. Very precise work.
O’Reagan: Were there any mistakes?
Ballard: Pardon?
O’Reagan: Did you ever see any mistakes?
Ballard: Well, no, but if there were they were corrected as they went, because they had two or three levels of inspection verified that they were going in properly. There may have been some, I don’t know. I was not in direct control of that job. I was more on the K Reactor, I just was in oversight. I don’t remember what my position was at that time, but—the B Reactor, for example, you know what happened there when they started it up? It died because of the xenon poison. They didn’t have enough neutron flux levels to override that poisoning effect. That’s when they had to add the additional fuel channels outside the original 1,500 that they had that the physicist said was adequate to drive the reactor. So that was an interesting job. They had to—the later reactors, they had more knowledge of what the requirements were. So the design wasn’t—it didn’t create a problem on initial startup like B Reactor did.
O’Reagan: We were trying to outline or highlight—what sort of innovations came out of Hanford, what sort of inventions did you see—what new knowledge or techniques did you see created at Hanford?
Ballard: Well, there again, you need to talk to the physicists and chemists and people that were in the fuel design areas. There were so many changes made to the fuel designs. They went from—of course these were only applicable to the graphite reactors the modern fuel originally were eight inches long when the distortion that occurred in the graphite, that was because of the structure change due to the radiation in the graphite. The channels were distorted to the point where some were so crooked that the eight-inch channel—the fuel wouldn’t go through the channel. SO they went to four-inch people—four-inch long fuel assemblies in some of those bad channels. And then of course another knowledge was the design of fuel assembly, you went from strictly external core where they just had an annulus of water around the outside cooling the fuel assembly. It went to a center core; they had internal cooling—a flow channel through the center of the element. But as far as the physics of the elements, they went from totally natural uranium, originally 238, all naturally derived with 0.7% 235. They went to some enrichment in the reactors to increase the power level. But there was physics changes all along, as far as being able to control and just knowledge of impurities and what the effects were in the nuclear physical—the physics involved in the reactor. But of course, then the Breeder Program, we didn’t talk about that. There’s a lot of advancements made there. FFTF was a marvelous machine and it produced a lot of new information from greener technology. That FFTF was—I spent ten years on development—seven on development and three on construction, so. But I wasn’t—I’m not a physicist and wasn’t into the technology as much as the people—I was more into construction, design and construction.
O’Reagan: A lot of knowledge there, too, that you—hands-on knowledge.
Ballard: Well, I always pride myself on being able to fix problems. We had a lot of things on assembly or putting the stuff together that just—problems or interferences or arrangements that weren’t thought of in design that we were able to resolve in the field, and that’s why I got into—I’ve been building houses for Habitat now for the last 15 years. [LAUGHTER] It’s a little different from putting reactors together, but I get a lot of comments from the instruction people in Habitat. This is not a reactor; we don’t need to have those tolerances. [LAUGHTER] But I say if you make it right, it looks a lot nicer and it goes together better.
O’Reagan: All right, I guess that’s the list of questions I’ve got. I guess we’ll end it once again.
Ballard: Okay, well, appreciate.
Northwest Public Television | Young_John
John Young: R. Young. J-O-H-N R Y-O-U-N-G.
Robert Bauman: All right, thank you. And today's date is October 22nd of 2013.
Young: I'll agree on that.
Bauman: Okay. Sounds good. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities.
Young: Yeah.
Bauman: So let's start by having you tell me when you came to Hanford? What brought you here? How you got here?
Young: What was that?
Bauman: When did you come to Hanford—to work and Hanford, and what brought you here?
Young: You want the whole story of how I got to Hanford?
Bauman: Yeah.
Young: It'll take me 15 minutes. I wrote a letter up to here after I saw an article in the newspaper saying they were looking for employees. And after that, they accepted me from the standpoint that they would find out whether or not I was qualified. And for the next two months, the FBI and other agencies went through my history and got information from my doctor and so forth. And in early June—well actually, yeah—they finally decided that they would offer me a job. Or they offered me a job.
Bauman: And so where had you been living before you came here? What year was this, also?
Young: What was that?
Bauman: Where were you living before you came here, and what year was this that you moved here?
Young: Oh no, I didn't have any employee but here before.
Bauman: But where did you live before you came here?
Young: Where was I working?
Bauman: Where did you live before?
Young: Oh, I lived in Albany, Oregon. And I worked there as a carpenter because my dad made houses. So anyway, when I found out that I was supposed to arrive on July the 8th, I started from home on July the 7th. I wanted to be sure that I got here. Now, something I should tell you now is that during that spring, the Columbia River was at its highest violation you might say, or amount of water, in history. And it had wiped out parts of Portland. And there were only two bridges on the Columbia River, in the United States. One was the Bridge of the Gods down by Portland, and the other one was a bridge up by Canada.[LAUGHTER] So I didn't have any choice of how to get here. So when I left home, I drove up to Portland on back country roads because the main roads up to Portland were all wiped out by the water. Got to Portland. It was 17 miles east to the Bridge of the Gods. And that was actually a very funny ride because the road I was on the south side of the river and railroad track were the only two things on that side of the river. And I could drive along there and look out over the top of the rails on the railroad, and I could see that the flood two feet below the top of the railroad. Anyway, I got to the bridge safely. Went over the bridge, and I knew that the road on the other side going east from the Bridge of the Gods grows gradually up the ridge on the north of the river and eventually goes over the top of it and go down into the Yakima Valley. And I got about halfway up that ridge when the engine on my car blew out. [LAUGHTER] And fortunately it was right at a little town there that had some place where they could fix my car. So I spent the rest of that day there while they were working on the car. And they got the car ready for me by 8:00 the next morning, which was the 8th. So I drove on up over the top of the ridge down into the Yakima Valley, because I knew that if I could get into Yakima, there's a main road coming from Yakima down here. I got down to the bottom of the hill there, started towards Yakima. And I got two miles, and they found out that there's three feet of water over the river—over the road, pardon. So I turned around, went back. And there was an industrial area there. And I found a guard there and said is there any way I can get down to here. He said oh yeah, go back up to the road to Yakima and then go east. And when you get down, about 30 miles, there's a bridge over the river. So I took it and went in to Richland, getting there about noon on the 8th, which was fine for my getting there. So I ate my lunch, went into the Federal Building--which was only a one story building at that time—and I found out where the manager of personnel--well, new in personnel were. Walked down to his office, walked in his office. And he had about five desks in there. He was on one of them right by the door. And he was busy working on it. So I stood there, I'll say, for over a minute when he finally looked up and saw me. So I reached out my hand to him and said who I was. He stood up. He opened his mouth wide. And he stood there for over a minute, utterly amazed. When he finally got himself together, he said, how in the world did you get into Richland? What had happened was the management of Hanford had concluded that nobody would get into Richland for the next month. And that's why he was so astounded that I got into town. There was a [INAUDIBLE] if you want to call him that and overlooked the fact that I was a westerner. And I can go anywhere in this country that I want to, because I was raised on a cattle ranch down in Central Oregon. And I knew where to go through the, I'll say, backwoods. And that's how I got there. So anyway, their question then became, what are they going to do with me? Because they'd shut down the orientation class for new employees, so I couldn't go to work out in Areas. What were they going to do with me for a month? Now the first thing they did is they got me a room out in the barracks in North Richland. And then they told me to report to the production scheduling office in the Federal Building the next day, which is a top secret operation. And the purpose of that office was to determine which tubes in the reactors should be discharged the next time they had an outage at the reactors. And consider that there's 6,000 tubes out there. They had a new calculation system because they had a calculator which was designed to do that calculation to tell them what the amount of uranium was, or the amount of plutonium was in those process tubes. And such a method of calculating did not exist anywhere else. It was a special calculator designed by Marchand. Well anyway, I spent the next month in that office. I had a copy of the manual for Hanford—it was a top secret copy. And I could read that and find out everything that went on in Hanford in their manual. And then at the end of that month, when they finally opened up their orientation operation, I went through that process. And then I went out to the 100 Areas to go to work. I was assigned for six months at B Reactor as an assistant, well, operator for the reactor. It was a training period. It's a General Electric process. Any time the General Electric Company—at that time anyway—hired a new employee that had an education, they would put them out into one of their operations or many of them to give that person training on what to do in the job that they're going to get. And when they got through with the six month part that I was out there, they then assigned me to day work out in the 100 Areas. And I spent the next 17 years out in the 100 Areas as a senior engineer, one of the few that they had out there. Now I had to earn that title of senior engineer. But I was working on increasing the productivity of the reactors, reducing the cost of operating reactors, reducing the amount of radiation well, affecting workers out there—things of that type, for 17 years. At the end of the 17 years, they started shutting the reactors down. So I resigned. Went to the 300 Area and joined several organizations down there. [LAUGHTER] You know, there's so many of them floating around there, it's funny. And I spent 33 years mainly working in the 300 Area. But what I did was such things as licensing nuclear reactors, seven of them on the east coast of the United States. Congress had decided that all of the nuclear power plants in the country should be licensed. And the AEC, when they got that, they said well, you should work in the East because we don't want any bias. So those seven reactors are spread all away from Florida clear up to Minnesota. And after that, that was just a typical action for, oh, about one year. I was still an employee here. And if you want to know what I've done for the rest of that 30 years I spent at Hanford, I've got it listed here if you want it.
Bauman: Sure.
Young: This is something that I've had. I filled it out as appropriate just so I could answer questions of the type that you've made. And if you want to make a copy of this--
Bauman: Oh, sure. Yeah, we can do that afterwards, yeah. That’d be fine.
Young: But you see there's—oh, what is it--about 15 boxes all in there. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: I want to go back to when you first arrived in the area in 1948. Is that right?
Young: What did I do?
Bauman: You first arrived in the area--
Young: I just arrived in '40--well, you mean in the Northwest?
Bauman: No, I mean in the Richland, Hanford area.
Young: In Richford, yeah.
Bauman: What sort of housing did you have when you first arrived?
Young: There were in Hanford at that time, large buildings--some of them still exist--which had multiple rooms for people. And some of those buildings could hold as many as 25 people. And I was single. It was very handy from midtown. It's not out in the sandy places they talk about in this article. [LAUGHTER] But that sand, he talks in there so much—a couple of times anyway—actually was not Richland. Except for little locations where one building might be built. Most of Richland was grassy. And if you're in Richland, you're not getting any sand blowing around. And if you read their article there, they talked about the sand when there were on construction locations. Well that's normal throughout the whole state of Washington. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So what your first impressions of Richland when you first got here?
Young: When I first came in? I got a story for you that you're going to wonder if you want to publish it. I, like I said, drove into Richland on the 8th of June and got my lunch. Ate my lunch, went into the office there. And I guess I told you that this fellow said how in the world did you get into Richland? So from that time on, I was working. And I was working out in 100 Areas. The first six months, I was working at B and D Reactors. And my position was assistant shift superintendent. See, they had shut B Reactor down for, must have been four years because they wanted to keep it available in case they had to get some more plutonium for the military in a hurry. And that was the only time I was on shift. After that, my work was what you might call typical engineering. You can call it nuclear engineering if you want to, but it's general types of engineering—reducing operating costs, increasing production, reducing the radiation doses to employees, those types of things for 17 years. Ended up as a senior engineer.
Bauman: Of the different sorts of jobs, different parts of the Hanford site that you worked on, was there something that you found most challenging, most difficult, and/or something that you found sort of most rewarding about what you did?
Young: I don't understand your question.
Bauman: Well, you had at least a few different jobs. You worked in the 100 Areas, right? And then you worked the 300 Area. Where there certain things that you did that you found sort of more challenging, or more difficult than others? And were there certain aspects or certain jobs that you had that you really found especially rewarding, that you really enjoyed a lot?
Young: The main difference was that when I was working in 300 Area, the reactors were reactors of the types that were used everywhere else in the United States. The Hanford reactors were very specific reactors because their only purpose was to produce plutonium. Whereas the other reactors in the United States were primarily built to produce electricity. It's a different design. And it also had more, shall we say, more opposition by the public. [LAUGHTER] Yeah. And that's a subject that you might want to address, because the people who are supposed to be the experts on radiation generally refused to use the information which says that low level radiation is beneficial. That makes a lot of difference. That low level radiation is so beneficial. In my case, I got 15,000 radiation dose. All of it was low level radiation. There might have been some high level in there, but I can only tell you what the badge has, you know? [LAUGHTER] And that's something that you might want to mention in your articles if you publish them. There are numerous people here, particularly in Hanford, that refuse to recognize that fact that low level radiation is beneficial. And like I say, there are scores of documents that say that low level radiation is beneficial.
Bauman: You talked about your badge. I wonder if could talk about safety at Hanford? Did you have to wear any special clothing equipment of any kind to do your work? What sorts of ways was safety sort of part of what you did?
Young: Well, I was cleared for every type of limited information. I got that when I told you I went into that one office on the first day. That was a top secret operation. And top secret gives you access to anything, assuming you had a need for it. I spent—let's see, how long were we in Oak Ridge?
Woman one: One year.
Young: One year, yeah. I spent one year in Oak Ridge on a committee which had somebody for every one of the AEC outliers, you might say. And the purpose was to determine where to protect their materials could be manufactured if somebody needed them. In other words, if you want high level radiation dose or something. I was dealing with people from every one of the major AEC outsides. But I would have ranged all in the various types of work that involve radiation. For instance, I was a manager at preparing environmental impact document for fusion reactors. And that document was presented in a meeting to the international fusion organizations in Germany.
Bauman: About what time period was that? Do you know?
Young: Oh, my. Let's see. That must be about 1990.
Bauman: During your years working at Hanford, were the any events, incidents, events, special occasions, things that sort of stand out in your mind from your time working at Hanford?
Young: You mean the reactors involved?
Bauman: Oh, could be, yeah.
Young: Yeah, we head one out in the 100 Areas. For essentially all of the reactors, when they milk the reactors, they—of course the reactors are made out of graphite. They ran tests on graphite and so forth, and they learned that they could operate the reactors with a fairly low temperature of the graphite. You get too high temperature and you know you might hurt the material. And as we started raising the power levels of the reactors out there, the graphite started expanding. And the result was that in some of the older reactors like B Reactor, the graphite expanded enough that it pushed the shields off the outside of the reactor. Well, push them apart you might say. And the result was that the radiation inside of the reactor was leaking out through the crack at the top of the far side wall on the reactor. And there was a line of radiation going out that crack out through the wall in the far side of the reactor and then up into the air. And the result was that there was about a 20 mR radiation dose on the ground outside of the reactor. And that's one thing I worked on. They went back into the files of the DuPont people. And by checking through those files, they discovered that if we raised the temperature of the graphite, the expansion would stop. And if you go too low, the graphite would reduce in volume. And so we had to go through a special study to try to figure out what this would do to the reactor. And the result was—you see, the normal tube in the reactor was straight through the reactor. But when the graphite started expanding, the tube went up in arc and came back down because the highest temperature graphite was in the center of the reactor. So we figured out what was the proper temperature of the graphite—of actually of the gas in the reactor. And we ended up with the top tubes in the reactor going in, going down, going up, going down, and coming back up and going out the back. That's the type of things you ran into doing something like those reactors. And by doing that, it sort of drove the people replacing process tube on the reactor having to figure out how to get the tubes in the [INAUDIBLE]--[LAUGHTER]--through the reactor. If we had not done that, eventually the reactor would have fallen apart. In other words, if we hadn't figured out what was causing the problem—because this reactor would just keep expanding, and finally that outside shield would fall over. Or we'd have to somehow rebuild the shield up there to keep it in place. That's just a typical job that you'd have. You might spend six months on that. I had another one. I was working with a fellow who is an expert on water purification. And see, we were cooling the reactors with Columbia River water. It had to go through the water plant to clarify the water to get the sand and what have you out of it. And when they first designed the reactors, DuPont had discovered that if you did not have the right concentration of materials in the water going through the reactor, the tubes were bending up into two inside the reactor. And in order to prevent that happening, they were use the sodium dichromate in the water on the reactors. One part per million or something like that, but it's still, we're spending about, well, over $1 million a year buying that material. And I was working there with a fellow who was an expert on operating water treatment plants. And we got together and looked at this sodium dichromate that was used as we said--and we were buying that by the railroad car load. And I think the total cost was a $1.4 million a year for that one material as I remember it. And we looked at the price of it. And we looked at the price of buying the two components for making that material. And we had enough equipment in the water plants that we could make that material, the sodium dichromate. So we bought the chromate and the sodium, and we cut the costs in half from about a $1.4 million down to $700,000 a year. So we saved $700,000 a year. That's the type of things you work on. All types of things you get involved in. For instance, when they built the reactors back in World War II, there was a shortage of steel. So many of the pipes, particularly the ones underground, were not made out of metal. And when you heat and cool the other types of pipes, they start leaking because they crack open. So we had to figure out how to solve that problem or reduce the amount of sodium dichromate getting into the Columbia River. We worked it out, reduced it considerable. Those things get a little complicated. I don't want to go through all the detail. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So it's involved a lot of problem solving? Your [INAUDIBLE] anyways right, problems with the reactor or whatever you would work on solving those issues.
Young: What was that?
Bauman: If there were problems with the reactors, then you would work on solving some of those issues, work on solving the problem.
Young: Yeah. In other words, you have really two plants there. One was a water plant to provide the water to the reactor. And then the reactor was the other plant. Now what you do with the water, what you get out of that, is just how you get it back into the Columbia River with a minimum of radiation. And you know, that raises an important thing that I haven't mentioned it to people here in the Tri-Cities. I kept records on what the radiation was in the Columbia River. And when we were running the reactors out there, we were running, you might say, tons of radioaction into the river. Yet the amount of radioactivity in the Columbia River here at Richland was essentially zero. It had disappeared you might say, or bee diluted if you want to put it the other way during the travel of the water from out there by the reactors into here. And when I see these articles in the newspaper about they're worrying about the fact that there's radiation out there in the 200 Area and it will leak out into the ground seven miles or something like that from the river, I'd be willing to bet that there wouldn't be much radiation getting down to Richland. And the other thing is that it would be low level radiation, which is beneficial if it does get down here. I don't know if you want to put anything like that in what you publish because the nuclear engineers don't want it to be published.
Bauman: Overall, how was Hanford as a place to work?
Young: What was that?
Bauman: Overall, how was Hanford as a place to Work what did you think of Hanford as a place to work?
Young: Well to me, that was a typical job, In other words, I had to travel 35 miles to get to my work. But people do that all over the country. It was an interesting job because we were working on increasing our knowledge of the subject. It's different than running one of these dams out here where you're generating electricity you know. All you're doing there is pushing a button once in a while. But by doing the right things out there, we saved millions of dollars. And we also reduced, you might say, the effects of radiation on anybody by making sure they didn't get any high radiation doses. But the most important thing about it is that we were, you might say, at war with the rest of the world. As long as we had to make that plutonium and reap you might say, keep Russia at a distance. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Is there anything I haven't asked you about in terms of your work at Hanford that you'd like to talk about?
Young: Well no, other than the fact that once I went to work in the 300 Areas, I worked all over the United States. Because I happened to be, you might say, an expert on nuclear reactors. A good example is that the government decided they wanted to have every nuclear reactor, I'll say described, to be sure what it is and how much radiation so forth is involved. In other words, if they did that, they licensed them. And that was quite an interesting job, because I worked on seven reactors back on the East Coast. And of course, I worked for one year in Oak Ridge. And that involved all of the AEC facilities.
Bauman I want to thank you very much for coming in today and sharing your experience with us. I really appreciate it.
Young: Well, always glad to be helpful.
Bauman: Thank you very much.
Young; I would like to see the facts published in your story that low level radiation is beneficial.
Bauman: I'm making these, we're making these available for anyone to look at, the [INAUDIBLE] stuff. Thanks again, appreciate it.
Jerry Yesberger: I go by Jerry Yesberger, Jerry, J-E-R-R-Y, and then Yesberger, Y-E-S-B-E-R-G-E-R.
Robert Bauman: All right. Thank you. My name's Robert Bauman, and today's date is December 9th of 2013. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So Jerry, let's start maybe by having you tell us when you first arrived in the area, what brought you to Hanford?
Yesberger: Okay. Well, I was born and raised in Colorado. Went to University of Denver, and I graduated with a BS degree in 1950. And let's see here. Then I worked for a short time in Colorado, mainly because I wanted to come back from the state of Washington—to the state of Washington. I was in the service from '43 to the end of '45. And I spent some time in the Seattle area and everything, and I really liked it. And so when I got back to Colorado, I applied for jobs with State of Washington and everybody. Then there was an opening at Hanford. And at that time, everything here was General Electric company, as you probably already know. There was no contractors other than GE, and they ran the community. And everything—there wasn't anything other than GE here. And my first job at Hanford, which lasted about five years, was in the public health department, which we had most of our activity concerned for the community here, rather than the site, although there were some activities during that that we were asked to perform, such as—oh, I can remember that I'd been out to the site for some things to do with health matters and so on that I was asked to do the work on, and I did. And after about four, four-and-a-half years, the city became a city away from General Electric company, and I wanted to stay with Hanford. So I applied—well, I don't remember how exactly I got there, but the radiation protection department in Hanford Laboratories at that time. And again, this was a time when everything was one site. There was no contractors other than General Electric—offered me a job in radiation protection. And my radiation protection time lasted an awful long time, because I retired in early--oh, gosh. Say, it was 19—but anyway, I had 36 years' service. [LAUGHTER] And my first job was out here in the 300 Area, and GE at that time gave new people an awful lot of training. And I was trained as a health physicist. And I spent, oh, gosh, the first few months training. And I spent, oh, gosh--they had a project here called 558 Project, and what it did was go through the old reactors, all of the old reactors and replaced the tubing in the reactors. And each one of these assignments lasted, oh, three to four months. So we started out in B Reactor and finished there. And my job was I had a crew of radiation monitors working for me, and we worked shift work, because there was a big, big construction job. And it took about three to four months in each of the old reactors out there to go through these, replace the tubing, and so on. So I followed those from B to C Reactor to 100-DR to 100-H to 100-F doing the same thing, essentially, because we went through there. And then following that time, I went back into 200 West Area, where I worked on projects and so on. And rather than work--I didn't have radiation monitors work for me then, but I had always assigned projects myself to work on. And I did that in the--I have worked in every area on the project out here, with the exception of FFTF. I did not work, and I did not have an office there. But every other area I had an office and these things. So it was kind of really a broad orientation program and so on. I want to back up just a little bit. In the service, I was in the Coast Guard. And this was from '43 to '46. And I was a pharmacist's mate, and again, the training was real, real good. And the last year or so, I was on a ship, USS Aquarius, and it was an attack cargo ship. And our job was to take troops. We had Marines that we had aboard, and we had training to have them land on something. And boy, they really trained us. To make a long story short, we got an assignment, and we knew we were going to move our ship. But we didn't know where or what for. But it turned out it was that they were preparing to invade Japan with troops. And I never saw so many ships in my life, where we all had troops, and we were ready to train. And we practiced getting on these landing barges, and, of course, I was a medic, so I had to go in with the troops. But I never had any real active duty due in that time, prior to that time, because I was always out doing these other things. But we were ready to go in, and so we had actually moved into where we would make our move, and guess what. The Nagasaki bomb was dropped. Well, of significance there is the plutonium on that bomb was made at Hanford. So that was really an interesting aspect of it, and I've always been so, so, so, so interested in that aspect of the thing. Well, shortly after that, the war was over, and everybody was discharged. And then that's when I came back and went from there, like I said, prior to this. But I thought that was an interesting aspect of this whole thing. So I worked for the General Electric Company for about five years in radiation protection doing all of these things I've been telling you all about. And again, I had very, very, very good assignments. Probably my most treasured assignment was I was the health physicist for biology, out in the 100-F Area. And I spent a year out there, and that was because of all the animals--the pigs and the dogs and everything, and my job was to write radiation procedures for them to do where the monitor and I had radiation monitors reporting to me out there during that time. Well, following that—I don't know how this developed, but the Atomic Energy Commission, which it was at that time, got my name, and they asked me if I would be interested in federal employment. So in the 1st of January, 1960, I switched jobs from the General Electric Company to the Atomic Energy Commission. And my job, there it turned out that I was a headquarters person, because we were doing what they call compliance inspection of people that are used in the state of Washington, Alaska, and Washington. Anybody that had a license for radioactive material, they had to be inspected. I was one of these inspectors. And it was a very, very interesting job. It involved a tremendous amount of travel, however. And we were always—when I went up to Alaska several times to inspect people, and there were only for us in this whole division, by the way. [LAUGHTER] So there was only two of us that made any inspections. And so I liked it. I like it, because I like people. But I worked at that, and it turned out that we were called Region 8 Division of Compliance, and it consolidated with Region 5 in California. So I didn't want to go to California. So I was offered a job with Atomic Energy Commission here in the Richland operations office, and I stayed there until I retired for my service. But I was with—most of this time, by the way, where I was transferred, I was in the health and safety division at RL. And at that time, there was no—we had one manager for this whole site at Hanford. We didn't have, like they do now, one on for the 300 Area, and all this kind of stuff. So we had our own health and safety division, so our entire--everything we did was associated with Hanford. And so that's where I finished my career in 19--with the federal government. I did work, however, two years after retirement for a company called MacTech, and they were a contractor to DoE to work on specific problems and so on. And I worked with them for a couple of years. And I also worked on the employee compensation program for about a year, and then finally retired. That's kind of it in a nutshell. I hope I didn't confuse you.
Bauman: No, no. I do want to go back and ask a couple of questions. So when you first came to Hanford in 1950, what was your first impression of the area?
Yesberger: Well it was a shock. Number one, I had never been in eastern Washington in my life. I got a job offer, and I thought it might look like Seattle, but it didn't! [LAUGHTER] So that's my impression. But I wouldn't trade this area for the whole state of Washington now. I love it. We raised our family here, and I'm a big booster of it.
Bauman: When you first arrived, where did you live?
Yesberger: Well, my first housing was a dorm for about three months, and then we moved into a B house, which was a duplex. And we lived right across from Lewis and Clark School here in Richland, and we lived in there for a year or two. Then they sold the houses here, and a fellow that I worked with down here, he didn't want to stay here, so he was living in a ranch house, which I bought. And I'm still there. [LAUGHTER] And we live on Torbett here in Richland, and we've been here ever since. We had one child that was born in Denver, and then our other three, and we finally had a girl, which I was so happy for. I love girls. [LAUGHTER] And she lives here, by the way. And she's the only one that lives here, and she's a special education teacher for the handicapped at Richland School. That's what she got her degree in. And she loves the work, but I couldn't do it.
Bauman: Do you remember how much you paid for that house?
Yesberger: We paid about $6,500. We sure did. And prior to that, they furnished the oil, the painters, everything that was here was done for us.
Bauman: Do you remember what your rent was on the B house?
Yesberger: Yeah, it was about $30 a month.
Bauman: $30 a month.
Yesberger: Yeah!
Bauman: Do you have any other memories of the community in the 1950s, what it was like at the time?
Yesberger: Well, yeah, somewhat. One of the things that mystified me was that we lived in Richland, but blacks could not live in Kennewick. They would not rent to--you couldn't buy a house in Kennewick if you were black. And that always, I thought, was unreasonable, because we had several blacks that worked with us in the AEC here that were wonderful. And I still don't have any--I love them all. I like everybody.
Bauman: So when you were AEC, they weren't doing the hiring of African Americans there?
Yesberger: No, they hired them. Oh, yeah, AEC, there was no question on that with the government, but boy, you couldn't live here. And we had several blacks in our division, and it worked out great. No, the community--do you live--I mean, do you folks live here? Well, when we got here, there was nothing north of Van Giesen. Nothing. And so boy, did we see that grow.
Bauman: Yeah, I imagine you’ve seen a lot of change and growth.
Yesberger: The week we got here—well, let's see. It was about--I lived here for about, well, maybe three months in the dorm, until we got housing for my wife in that B house. And it was great, the idea of that housing.
Bauman: Yeah. What was the dorm like?
Yesberger: I didn't have any problem. Of course, I missed my family. We had a boy at that time living in Colorado, and he now lives in Snohomish. And again, we had the big army camp in North Richland, where we had just thousands of trailers and everything. And that was quite a sight to see.
Bauman: So you said you first job was working for the health department, or public health?
Yesberger: Well, it was the health and safety. Yes, it wasn't the health department at that time, but it included their functions.
Bauman: What sorts of things—that first job, what sorts of things did you do?
Yesberger: Well, we used to do all kinds of inspections, of course. But restaurants, schools, the water department in Richland, just broad health things that required health overviews. So that was the job.
Bauman: You were working for GE, right?
Yesberger: Yes.
Bauman: How many people were working in the health at that time?
Yesberger: Oh, we probably had 20 or 25. We had a doctor that was in charge of us.
Bauman: And then you said you went into radiation protection, right?
Yesberger: Yes, from that function. And the main reason is because GE—went to a community, rather than being GE-managed. We had to elect a city councilman. It was a city.
Bauman: Do you remember what your thoughts were about that, about Richland becoming an independent city at the time?
Yesberger: No, I think we all accepted it. It was good. Obviously, when you work like that, you're interested in benefits. And I think that swayed a lot of it for me to stay with GE.
Bauman: Right. So when you moved to radiation protection then, you said you had to have a lot of training at that point?
Yesberger: Oh, yeah.
Bauman: And for the jobs you were doing, did you have to wear special protective clothing at all?
Yesberger: Oh, yes.
Bauman: Can you describe that? Sort of what sorts of things you had to wear.
Yesberger: Well, basically, they're just white coveralls as the one here, and they're still using the same white coveralls out there, just like we did.
Bauman: How about security at Hanford? What was that like when you first came?
Yesberger: Well, I think it was very tight. It was very tight. They really stressed security and safety. Safety was—in my estimation, my experience, General Electric was the most, the best contractor I ever worked for in my life, because they had emphasis on safety and health and really stressed it, you know. Much better than possibly they did in later years.
Bauman: So was there sort of ongoing training for safety?
Yesberger: Oh, yes. Very, very, very, very--GE was very safety-conscious, and they were so good to their employees. You never read anything about anything happening in the newspaper or anything like that. They got it to their employees right away, and it was a pleasure. And the rest was a pleasure too, but not like--I miss GE.
Bauman: And you talked about, was it the 558 project?
Yesberger: Yeah.
Bauman: With changing the tubing. So what was your job? I know you went to each different reactor as they did that. What sort of things were you doing for that?
Yesberger: My particular job was I was what they called the radiation supervisor. And so I had about eight radiation monitors with me all the time during each outage, and we went from one to the other. And their job was everything had to be monitored just like they do now, in and out of the areas, and move it, and take it to disposal areas, and everything.
Bauman: So was it monitoring the employees’ exposure rates?
Yesberger: Yes, monitoring the employees and the jobs that they're doing, because we had to develop the radiation work procedures, which they were working at. And this would vary during the whole outage. And they were very tight at first, and there was any grinding or anything or heat or anything, you had to have special requirements for that.
Bauman: So of the different jobs you had and the different parts of the site that you worked at, was there a job or something you did that you found the most challenging, and/or something that was the most rewarding of the things you did at Hanford?
Yesberger: Well, probably the most rewarding job I ever had here was Hanford, was I was here with Richland operations office, and during the americium accident in 1955, I think it was, and my job, at that time, was--as a matter of fact, I got involved in that particular incident at about 5:00 in the morning after it happened at 4:00. And I went out with the doctor, a fellow by the name of Dr. Breitenstein, and he and I went out and met Mr. McCluskey out in the area, before they got me into the decontamination center. And my job was really I represented RL in the whole aspect of the care of that patient during the months and months that he was here. Because he was confined, couldn't leave, and everything. And my job was to--as a matter of fact, I came right out to see him every single morning that he was in there, and we became very, very, very, very good friends. And it turned out I was a pallbearer when he died. [LAUGHTER] And it was a rewarding experience, because to begin with, he was such a great guy, and he accepted all of this and was never down, but he couldn't hardly see. He was grossly contaminated. And my job was to keep people at RL down here, the Richland operations office informed of what the situation was with him, and to notify headquarters, keep them informed, because it was a real significant accident, the worst we've ever had at Hanford.
Bauman: So you mentioned that he had suffered probably with his vision. What other sort of injuries or--
Yesberger: Well, what happened, he had put his hand in this glovebox out in 234-5 Building, and it exploded, and came out and hit him in the face. So he was just so grossly contaminated, and he had to have a radiation monitor with him every hour that he was down there. And I became so familiar with that accident and everything, and I felt it was the most rewarding for me to have something like that to do.
Bauman: Do you remember about how long he had to stay hospitalized?
Yesberger: Well, yes. He was down there for probably a year. A year. We got hot food. It was provided to him by Kadlec Hospital down here, and he had a nurse with him down there at all times. And his wife was living down there with him also.
Bauman: And where was he then? Was he at the hospital, or was he-
Yesberger: Well, there was facility at the back of Kadlec Hospital, which is no longer there. And this facility was called Emergency Decontamination Center, and he was there. They had beds and everything in there, showers and everything. And it was a specific facility for that case, to tell you the truth. And it's since been torn down, which I think was a mistake, myself, because if you ever had another one, you couldn't have been a better facility for it.
Bauman: You mentioned you were in close with him, and were a pallbearer at his funeral. How long did he live?
Yesberger: He lived about, I think, about three years. And then he died of a heart attack. It wasn't radiation. But he certainly had radiation in him that would cause cancer if he had lived too much longer.
Bauman: Are there any other incidents or sort of unusual events that happened when you were working at Hanford that kind of stand out in your mind at all?
Yesberger: Well, I happened to be a trained accident investigator, and I had to go to school and learn all this kind of stuff. And I probably investigated more accidents than anybody ever has at Hanford. But we’ve had fatalities, and we had big spreads of contamination. We had several things that cause it, plus, we also responded to off-site accidents. And I had what we call a radiological assistant team that reported to me, and I went out on those where there were trucks that would spill radioactive material, where there was--this is kind of a little odd. I probably shouldn't even mention it, but you'll appreciate it. But we had a truck of uranium billets overturn on Lolo Pass, and these billets weigh 15, 20 pounds, but there's hundreds of them in this truck. Those things went all over the highway up here in Montana. I responded to that one. And one of the things that I was never trained on was guns. But, well, we were up there probably about a week recovering all of those billets that spilled over, because they all had to be accounted for. It was very strict on that. But we were out from town out on this pass someplace, and somebody had to sit in the truck with a gun at night to make sure nothing came, if anybody came from the highway or anything like that. Well, they gave me a big shotgun. I don't even remember what kind of gun. I couldn't have shot that damn thing if I'd had to! [LAUGHTER] And I still can't! [LAUGHTER] But that was kind of humorous. But we couldn't have the guy that could shoot be there all the time. So we all spent about three or four hours a night out there by ourselves.
Bauman: How long were you out there?
Yesberger: We were out there a couple of weeks. But I responded to lots of--the worst probably the most one that I responded to as the team captain was we had a spread of contamination at the University of Washington at the reactor. And I actually, again, there was some plutonium that came from Hanford that they were analyzing up there, and there was a spill. And the reactor at the University of Washington was greatly contaminated with plutonium. And I had a team. I had three or four people that went up with me to respond to that, and we were there two or three weeks there helping them get that all in, and we did. We got it all cleaned up, but there was some minor depositions. But boy, if that thing would happen now, the way it's anti-nuclear, it would be horrible. But this happened to be in spring break when all of the kids were away. So we lucked out on that on that thing, but we all had to wear protective clothing that two or three weeks while we were doing that. But I was the team leader on that particular accident.
Bauman: Do you remember what the time period was when that happened? What year that might've been?
Yesberger: Oh, gosh, I can't remember that. But I responded to probably 30 or 40 spills and so on that were all over the country in Oregon and Washington. And then we had spills in Oregon that we had to go down to, because at that time, the state didn't have people for that function to overlook at that. So we did their work for them. And I did that for, like I say, about four or five years.
Bauman: So did you usually respond if it was like material that had come from Hanford?
Yesberger: No, it could be anything.
Bauman: Could’ve been anything, okay.
Yesberger: Could be anything. I loved the job, and I loved the people, because I like people. But it was so much travel. I was always gone from Hanford.
Bauman: So that was probably one of the more challenging aspects for you is just all the travel.
Yesberger: Yeah, it was. We had young children, and it seemed like I couldn't go out and come back, there wasn't a million things broke. [LAUGHTER] So that's the way it went.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about President Kennedy's visit in 1963, if you went to that that day. Do you have any memories about that?
Yesberger: Well, I got two memories. I got a call after that article was in the paper from the Seattle--no, she was from, I think, a public relations firm down here, one of them, that asked me about it. So I told them everything I knew. So I told them about this one friend of ours that happened to get up and shake Kennedy's hand. Well, of course, they were interested more in that than were what I had to say. [LAUGHTER] So the big article in the paper, he gives his report. He didn't even mention my name. [LAUGHTER] No, I didn't care. But my son-in-law was there when they called too, and they quoted him in the article and everything. But poor me. No, I wasn't looking. I wasn't really looking for my name to be any place. [LAUGHTER] Yes, I was out there. It was, of course, it was in the fall when he was here, not long before he was assassinated. But it was such a hot day, and I think all of Richland went out to it. There was just car after car going out to that area, and some of them boiling over from the heat and all this kind of stuff. But it was a very, very excellent program.
Bauman: So as you look back at your years working at Hanford—how many was it? Thirty--
Yesberger: Gee!
Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Yesberger: Yeah.
Bauman: Something like that?
Yesberger: About 36. It was 36.
Bauman: Well, as you look back at those 36 years, overall, how would you assess Hanford as a place to work?
Yesberger: Well, I thought it was excellent and very safety-conscious. It couldn't have—in my aspect—been a safer place to live in my life than I did here at Hanford. And like I say, I worked in all the reactors. I worked in the separation plants and everything, and it was interesting. I think it was rewarding, the fact that you could clean up stuff. So it makes me real--we had such excellent facilities out here at that time. But all those buildings are gone and torn down, and they could've been used for so many things now. And I think that was a really big mistake. But they didn't ask me. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Well, is there anything I haven't asked you about that you think would be important to share or talk about?
Yesberger: Well, you know, I don't know. I think you might want to look at my submittal in the Parker Foundation on that thing and see what I said at that time and the answer to their questions and so on. It went well. And I just feel so fortunate to have been here all this time and be so lucky and still be here. I'm the luckiest guy in the world, and I'm very happy that I was at Hanford. I've got several awards while I was here for my work. One of them I do want to show you, because I'm really probably real pleased, but I was elected a fellow in the National Health Physics Society. I received awards, several from—I was president of our local chapter of the Health Physics Society. I received several awards from those people. I was really well thought of while I was here at Hanford. And I was real pleased.
Bauman: So were you involved in the Parker Foundation as well?
Yesberger: Yes, I've been on it since--I still am.
Bauman: Do you want to talk about that, like how you got involved with that?
Yesberger: I was asked to join it by Dr. Bair, who is still there. And I know you know about Ron Kathren. Everybody knows Ron Kathren. Well, I play cribbage with Ron Kathren every Wednesday at my house now. We play cribbage. I just think he's such a great person, and such a great health physicist, that I was so lucky to know him. And they asked me to join, and I've been real active, until this business with my wife, which I took a leave of absence. And I haven't been able to go there, because I can't leave my wife. But I still pay my dues and go there, and it's been a good organization.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you for coming today in this cold weather and coming and letting us talk to you. And then maybe we could get a shot of your award that you brought in.
Yesberger: Oh, okay.
Northwest Public Television | Tyler_William
Robert Bauman: Now you can give it right back to her?
William Tyler: Yeah, I plan on it.
Man One: Exactly. All right, get this off your face there.
Bauman: Does your daughter live here in Richland?
Tyler: She lives right across the street from me.
Bauman: Oh, does she? Oh, there you go. Well, you can really give it to her then. [LAUGHTER] She can't avoid you.
Tyler: Well in fact, we work together at HAMMER.
Man one: I’m rolling.
Bauman: All right. Well I think we're ready to get started. So let's start by having you say your name and also spell it for us.
Tyler: My name is William T. Tyler. W-I-L-L-I-A-M, T, T-Y-L-E-R.
Bauman: And you go by Bill?
Tyler: Bill, yeah.
Bauman: All right. And today's date is August 28th of 2013. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So let's start, if we can, by maybe having you talk about what brought you to the area. When did you come to work at Hanford, and what brought you here?
Tyler: We came out here on vacation from Oklahoma in 1947 to see my dad's brothers and sisters. And we were going to stay for a week or so. And my dad applied for a job here and got it, and we stayed. I thought it was the end of the world. This was not a pretty place in 1947. But I went in the Navy in 1950, got into the nuclear program and came out here in 1955. Went to work at Hanford. Worked as an HPT until '82, I believe. And then I went into management in health physics.
Bauman: So HPT, you mean health physics technician. Is that was HPT is?
Tyler: Uh-huh. Sorry.
Bauman: That's okay. So how old were in 1947 when you came on vacation?
Tyler: I think I was 15.
Bauman: Okay. What sort of job did your father get?
Tyler: He worked in transportation.
Bauman: And you already had aunts and uncles who came here?
Tyler: Yeah.
Bauman: So you said you thought this was the end of the world. What do you mean by that? What are your first impressions of the place?
Tyler: [LAUGHTER] Well, my first impression is we got here July the 5th. And my aunt and uncle had a little cafe on downtown Kennewick, on Kennewick Avenue. And it was about 104 degrees out. And we were driving down the street looking for it. And my dad says, man, I wouldn't live here if it's the last place in the world. And back then there was not a lot of trees. There was in Kennewick, and a few in Richland. But every time the wind blew, it was dusty and the tumbleweeds flew, and a lot of dust storms. In fact, they call them termination winds. Because everything was booming out in Hanford and every time the wind blew, people didn't like that and they'd just pick up and quit. So they called it termination winds.
Bauman: Do you know when your aunt and uncles came here?
Tyler: My aunt was born here in Kennewick. My uncle came out here in '37, '38, somewhere along that area.
Bauman: Oh, okay, so you'd had relatives here before the Hanford site.
Tyler: Oh yeah.
Bauman: And so when your family first came in 1947 and you dad got the job and stayed here, where did you live?
Tyler: We lived in Kennewick for a year. And then we got a house in Richland in 1948 at 635 Basswood.
Bauman: That was a government home then?
Tyler: Uh-huh. It was ranch house. And we moved in Thanksgiving Day of '48. And my future wife moved in next door the same day. I didn't know that was my future wife, but it turned out to be. And I still live on Basswood. Different house, but--
Bauman: So did you go to high school here then?
Tyler: I went to Kennewick. I started in Kennewick because that's where we lived and I didn't want to transfer. So I rode the intercity bus every day to Kennewick and back. I graduated in 1950 and then somebody in Washington wanted me to join their services. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So how would you describe, outside of your first impression, how would you describe the community of Richland in late '40s, early 1950s?
Tyler: It actually—it was a very good place to live. I didn't realize it at the time. It was smaller, much smaller--probably 5,000 people in each of the cities. It was a good place to live if you could ignore the wind blowing and the dust storms and that sort of thing. But it kind of grows on you. I know I wouldn't live anywhere else.
Bauman: In those early years when you were here in the '40s and '50s, do you remember any particular community events that stand out in your mind?
Tyler: Yeah, Atomic Frontier Days, the Grape Festival in Kennewick, and then the fair. Nothing big or spectacular, but it was something to do.
Bauman: Can you describe Atomic Frontier Days a little bit? What sorts of things--
Tyler: Well, normally they had a queen and a parade of course. And it was just kind of a—I don't know how--just a parade and kind of a get together type thing for the people that lived here.
Bauman: So let's talk about your work a little bit now. You said you started working in '55.
Tyler: ’55.
Bauman: So can you talk about who you worked for at time and a little bit more detail about what sorts of work you did? What area of the Hanford site you worked in?
Tyler: Okay, I started February the 22nd, 1955. And my first work assignment was 200 West Area tank farms. And then I went up to the REDOX facility which was a separations facility. A couple months later, then I went to U Plant. And then I went to T Plant, which were all separation facilities. And then I went over to PUREX in December of 1955. That was prior to startup. We started up our first spiked run was I think March or April of '56. And I worked there until '62 I believe. When I worked there, we also was switched with the 100 Area HPTs, or RCTs, or radiation monitors for exposure reasons. Because they got a lot more exposure than we did, so we would switch with them. And I got to work in all the 100 Area reactors except N when they were running, and some of the 300 Area.
Bauman: So just about everywhere?
Tyler: Yeah, I worked basically in every facility out here except 234-5.
Bauman: And so was GE the contractor? What contractor did you work for?
Tyler: GE. They were the prime contractor. And they left here in '66 I believe. Then Rockwell and Westinghouse and Fluor Daniel and MSA.
Bauman: So as a health physics technician, what exactly did that mean? What sorts of things did you do on a daily basis?
Tyler: Well as you know, there was a lot of contamination, radiation. And our job was to set the dose rates if people were going into a radiation area. We would go in, set the dose rates, stay with them. Got to make sure that the dose rates didn't increase while they were in there. We surveyed them out when they were done with the GMs and alpha detectors to make sure they didn't take any contamination home with them. And that was our prime responsibility. We maintain control of personnel exposure rates and their contamination, if they had any, and made sure that everything was as clean as we could get it. That's the short and sweet version.
Bauman: Yeah. And you did that, obviously, at all these different areas you worked at on the site?
Tyler: Everywhere, inside, outside, burial grounds.
Bauman: Were there ever any incidents while you were doing this where people did have excessive exposure or anything along those lines?
Tyler: Yeah, there was a lot of them. When GE came here--well, they were the prime contractor. Back in those days, you really couldn't talk about your job. You could say that you worked at Hanford and that was pretty much it. But yes, there was a lot of good memories and bad memories. Some really high exposure rates almost on a daily basis, because everything was running. And what will go wrong probably does. And it was very interesting work. It was something different every day. It's the kind of job that you look forward to doing and working. I did. I really enjoyed it.
Bauman: So what was the process or procedure if someone had an overexposure?
Tyler: Well, you had your dosimetry, which—Battelle read that. So you know what they got. And that's the record that's with you forever. At that time I think we worked--[PHONE RINGING] Shit. We worked under a 50 millirem per day limits, or 300 a week. And sometimes you would exceed that. But we were issued dosimetry everyday when we came to work. And you had a film badge which was read I think once a month. But they kept a running record of your exposure. That's why when we, when 100 Area radiation monitor--[PHONE RINGING] Hello. Can I call you back, Ian? Okay, thanks. Sorry. I don't know how to turn it off.
Bauman: So we're talking about the dosimeter--
Tyler: Yeah, they kept records of all your exposures. And then every month they would send you a copy or let you know what it was. But if before the end of the year was out, if you were running short of exposure, then they would transfer people--particularly the radiation monitors--to different areas. And they what they were doing was using our exposure instead of--and letting their people cool down a little bit. It was just a way of equalizing the dose rates to the personnel. And it worked good in theory. And there was some--and I probably shouldn't say this—but there was some little minor ripples in the water, because people accused the other people of hanging back and now I got to come save you, that sort of thing. But it was all in fun. Everybody knew how serious the job was. And that was just part of their job.
Bauman: And so how long did you work as a health physics technician then?
Tyler: I think until 1982 and I went into management in health physics. At that time, they called us managers. And I was the manager of East tank farms until 1988. And then I transferred over to the West Area environmental group and took that over. My responsibilities were all of the outside radiation contamination areas. Burial sites. '89 I retired. Came back three months later and went to work in the environmental restoration part-time. And I did that until 1995. And then when Bechtel came in, I left there and went back to health physics side and become a evaluator at HAMMER for radiation protection, which I still do.
Bauman: So you still work for--
Tyler: Two to three days a week.
Bauman: So you mentioned earlier the sort of secrecy of some aspects of Hanford. Obviously secrecy, security were a very important part of. I wonder if you could discuss that at all, any ways that impacted your work?
Tyler: GE had a very rigid plan of how they wanted things to go. And security of course was top secret. If you went—and a few people did--they go down and have a beer at the bar and they get to talking. And you never know who you're talking to you. And there was cases where people didn't have a job the next morning. Because security would overhear them. And you were pretty much done. So people didn't talk about their job. They didn't even talk about it with their family. Security was very strict. When you—well, for instance, when you go to work in the morning or if you're on shifts, same thing. You would catch the bus at the bus lot. Get on the bus, go through the barricade at the Y. If I was going to PUREX, we'd go up, pull in to the front gate of PUREX. You'd get out, off the bus. Go through the badge house. Pick up your dosimetry. Go out. Get back on the bus. The bus would pull inside the gate. Get back on the bus. Go down to PUREX. Get off the bus. Go through their badge house. And they would check your lunch bucket and all that. And then go into the building. And then in the evening, just reverse that process and back out again. So they were very strict. If you drove your car, you could not drive it past the main gate of East Area. You parked outside. And when you could drive inside, security would check the glovebox and the trunk and whatever was in the car. So it was very regimented.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about, in 1963 President Kennedy visited for the opening of the N reactor. I wondered if you were there and have any memories of that event at all?
Tyler: I was not there because I was on shift at that day, or I probably would have been.
Bauman: Mm-hm. Obviously, one of things that happened with Hanford is the shift from focus on production to focus on clean up. And I wonder if that shift impacted your work in any way?
Tyler: Yes. Like I said before, I was the manager of East tank farms. And my office was at Semi Works, which is in 200 East Area, which was a pilot plant for PUREX. Semi Works was running. We were doing strontium cesium runs. But then when the edict came out that we were going to phase out and clean up, one of the first facilities--well I think it was the first facility—that we started tearing down was Semi Works. And D&D did the work. But we shut it all down and demolished the building and just imploded it in place. Built a dirt berm over it, cleaned it up. Most of the cells and the tanks are still in place, but they're full of grout. And then there's concrete over it. And what we did was tear down—this was approximately a three-story building with three stories underground. So when we tore down the building—it had a lot of piping and columns—we tore down the building and left the west wall standing. And we filled everything we could get inside like the basement and concreted it in place. And then we undercut the west wall. And this is probably four foot thick. And got a couple of Caterpillars and chains and hooked it over the top of the west wall. Pulled it down over like a lid. And then dirt berm over it, and there it is. And the stack that was there—the exhaust, the big stack—they imploded that and laid her right alongside the building. One guy did that. We deconned it first, and he came in, and a dynamite expert told us where we was going to put the stack and put a stick out on the end in the ground like they do now on the TV. And laid that stack right down on that stick, all by himself. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So that definitely did make for significant changes then, the shift from production?
Tyler: Very significant, because that was kind of pilot test for all the other anticipated deconning and decommissioning they we're going to do, which is still going on.
Bauman: Let's shift now and talk a little bit about HAPO. I wonder--I know you've been involved with them quite often. I wonder if you can talk about your involvement when you became involved in HAPO and how that came about?
Tyler: Well let's see. First, HAPO was a GE acronym which stands for Hanford Atomic Products Operations, which was the name of GE's part of this. GESA, which is another credit union down the street, was the General Electric Supervisors Association. GE was very particular about their managers or supervisors were a step above the blue collar worker. And I think they still maintain that. If you were a supervisor, it's white shirt and tie. And you don't fraternize with--So when the credit committee wanted to get started, that's the name they chose, just HAPO. And it's '53. And I was looking at one of the early--the record book. And I think there's five or six of the charter members of the first—that I worked with that were radiation monitors just like I was. But I never joined HAPO until my wife was--she likes C First. And I never joined HAPO until I think '71. And then a friend of mine that I worked with talked me into getting on the committee that approved loans, credit committee, which I did. And then I got invited later to go on the board of directors and got voted in and been there ever since. I really enjoyed it. It's a great credit union.
Bauman: So is it the board of directors then, primarily is it either current or former Hanford employees?
Tyler: No. It used to be when we were federal, you had to work out here to join HAPO. And then they relinquished or changed the bylaws so that anybody could join HAPO. If you give them $5 and signed up, you were a member for life. But initially it was you had to work here to join.
Bauman: And you said you didn't join until '71. What led you to decide to join at that point?
Tyler: The guy I carpool with, one of them, convinced me that I should do that. [LAUGHTER] And I didn't like C First. I never did like C First. But my wife liked them because you got at the end of the month, you got all of your checks back. And she liked that. But I joined HAPO and started my own checking account. And then she finally joined shortly after I did. And now the rest is history. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So, I know you weren't part of the formation of the credit union. But I wonder if you can talk about it a little more? If you know more, were the employee unions at Hanford involved in the credit union, establishing that?
Tyler: Yes.
Bauman: And anything you can talk about that?
Tyler: Helen Van Patten was one. GESA started it first. And then the blue collars said well, we got to have one of those. The first store was down by the Spudnut Shop. I think we had one or two employees. And everything was in a ledger, handwritten. Joe Blow borrowed $25. It was very basic. But fortunately, it kept growing and membership increased.
Bauman: So the unions saw it as a way to provide credit union opportunities--
Tyler: Right.
Bauman:--for blue collar workers or laborers or whatever? Okay. So I want to—going back to your work at Hanford, what are some of the more challenging aspects of your work, and maybe some more rewarding aspects of your work?
Tyler: That’s a good question. Probably one of the most challenging was the responsibility when you're out on a hot job where the contamination levels are great and the radiation levels are great, and you have a whole crew of people. It challenges you to--it's always in the back of your mind that something's going to happen and I'm not going to see it, or I'm not going to catch it. And somebody's going to get overexposed. And that's always in the back of your mind. Because--and I have to beat my own drum here for a bit—radiation monitoring and health physics now, whatever they are, it's a very challenging job. You're responsible for--you're taking care of people. And they trust you. And they expect you to look out for them. And it's a lot of responsibility, but most everybody accepts that gladly, because they know how important it is. Because you're responsible for--you could get somebody really overexposed, and who knows what the consequences are? As far as rewards for that, I think is the satisfaction of when the job is done, that you knew you did your best job. Nobody got hurt. Nobody got overexposed. Nobody got contaminated. And the job got done.
Bauman: Were there any events or incidents or anything, sort of unique things that happened during your time working at Hanford that sort of really stands out to you?
Tyler: When I first hired in, like I said, I went to REDOX. One of the problems they had shortly before I got here was they had a ruthenium—they ran some ruthenium and they played it out in the stack. And then it broke loose. And it kind of went out in the desert and on the ground. And you had ruthenium chunks of—it looked like white paper that built up on the inside the stack and then finally broke loose and fluttered out and went everywhere. And one of my first jobs with a GM and a walking stick was walking out through the desert and finding these things. Little specks, big specks, didn't have any trouble finding them. [LAUGHTER] They were very hot. And I remember we used the KOA cans from T Plant, which were little round cans, metal cans about that big around, about this high with a snap-on lid. And that's what we put them in, with dirt for shielding. And then buried them. But there's been a lot of incidents of hot burials from PUREX. I remember some where we used a burial string. We used a locomotive, a whole bunch of flat cars. And then at that time, they'd build big wooden boxes. And I recall one big one that had enough lumber in it to build two B houses. Huge—it sat on two flat cars. And we put it in, and we took readings over the top of the tunnel as it went out of the tunnel towards the burial ground. And it read greater than 500 R. And as you know, 500 R for an hour is a lethal dose rate to 50% of the people, 60%. And then you go down the railroad track behind B Plant, pull it across the highway which patrol barricaded the road. So you pull the string across the road and then back it into the burial ground. And then you had to sink—this box was built on skids. And a big long steel cable lay on another flat car, three or four flat cars away from it. So you would pull that. And you would pull it down into a burial trench. And the Cat would be down there ready. And the train would back up and they would grab that cable, put the eye on. Hook it to the Cat. And then the Cat skinner would pull the cable off. And the train would move up until the boxes sit here and the cables here. And the Cat's down here pulling. And then we'd get up to the--and there was a dock where you could slide it off. And you would turn that box and pull it in. Pull it down into the trench, down to the other end, wherever you wanted it. Unhook the Cat. Leave it. Pull the Cat out. And then they would backfill that box. And that's the way they did the burials. And it worked great except when the box collapsed unexpectedly.
Bauman: Then not so great.
Tyler: Yeah, that's not a good--that happened once or twice.
Bauman: During your years working out there, were you ever concerned about your own safety, health, protection, in any way?
Tyler: Well as stupid as it may sound, no. I never was. Because I always figured I knew what I was doing. And I received some very good training in the Navy, which helped. But I never worried about it. I always trusted me.
Bauman: Were you a member of a union when you were working at Hanford? And what union was that? And I guess, what sort of relationship did the union have with management here at Hanford during the time you were here?
Tyler: Good and bad. [LAUGHTER] I used to be chief steward for the radiation monitors. I went through two negotiations. And after the last one, I decided I didn't want any more of that. Chief steward's a thankless job, but somebody's got to do it.
Bauman: What does that mean exactly? What—chief steward--
Tyler: Well, you're the union rep plant wide for all of the HPTs. And I had this grandiose idea that I could just change everything. It's a great idea, but it doesn't work. It's a job that somebody has to do. And it's a job that is thankless. Because somebody's always mad at you. Whatever you do, in some of the people's eyes, you could always do better. And it's just not a good job. [LAUGHTER] But I enjoyed it. You learn a lot. And you learn both sides of the fence--how the company thinks and how the union thinks. And then you try and compromise.
Bauman: Were there ever any times you were here where there was a strike or any sort of--
Tyler: Two--'66 and '76.
Bauman: And were those sort of across the site?
Tyler: Yep. And in '66, after we settled the '66 strike, GE left.
Bauman: Was that one of the reasons they left?
Tyler: Yeah, well, they had planned to leave. And then that's when--because when GE was here, they were the only contractor. And then when they left, they kind of broke it up into the 200 Areas and the 100 Areas. And it's always been different contractors, not just one prime contractor.
Bauman: Do you remember what some of the key issues were in '66 and '76 in terms of--
Tyler: Wages. Wages were always the key issue. Well, I take that back. '66 or '76 was, they were going to do away with the buses. And that was a key issue for everybody. It didn't happen, but it was a--that was when they spent all the money redoing the bus lot. And then a couple years later, they did away with the buses anyway. But we did get air conditioned buses. Before we had old buses, the old green buses. Well like the ones sitting down at--
Bauman: The CREHST Museum?
Tyler: Yeah. Those were some of the newer ones. The older ones were international buses that looked like a truck. Cold in the winter and hot in the summer. But they worked. When they did away with the buses, see, that did away with a lot of jobs in the bus lot. Maintenance, everything there, which was a lot of people.
Bauman: So part of that was about jobs and issues of transportation?
Tyler: Mm-hmm.
Bauman: Anything I haven't asked you about that you'd like to talk about or that you think we should talk about?
Tyler: Well, we've covered pretty much every--well, we've covered pretty much everything I think. I don't really know what you're looking for.
Bauman: Just your experience. That's why I wonder if there's something that you experienced some event or something that I haven't asked you about yet that you think would be important to—
Tyler: Well. When I retired, I took the first early out and then got bored to death and came back. When I was in the environmental group in West Area, a good friend of mine was an environmental manager outside the site. But he talked me into coming back part time and become a waste shipper and a waste handler. Which was--I'd never done it. I knew what it was. But I finally relented. I enjoyed it. It's entirely different. Because I was kind of burned out on radiation protection, and I wanted to do something different. Didn't want to retire, but I wanted to do something different. So I went to the classes and become a certified waste shipper and a waste handler. And we took care of all of the sites outside of 200 East, 200 West. All the burial sites, all the drilling sides, the river, pretty much everything. And it was very interesting. Until '95, when I decided I didn't like the contractor. [LAUGHTER] And I went back to health physics.
Bauman: Most of the students I teach now were born after the Cold War ended. Obviously most of your career, the Cold War was going on during most of the time you were working at Hanford. So I'm wondering what you think would be important for young people today and people in future generations to know about working at Hanford during the Cold War?
Tyler: I'm trying to remember. We had the strike in '66. And there was almost another strike four or five years later. In fact midnight was the deadline when we were supposed to go on strike. And at 11:30, we got a notification that the President had put a stop to the strike because of the situation with the Cold War thing. And I think that's the first and the last time that ever happened. But as far as--
Bauman: So then about 1970 or so?
Tyler: Early, yeah, '71 or '72 maybe. No, it was before that, because I was still on shift. It was probably '68, '69 maybe. But as far as the Cold War, it's still going on in different forms—my personal opinion. You look back at history--and I've lived through a lot of it--nothing has really changed. Like what's going on now, and the Bible says there'll be war and rumors of war. And that's correct. Because whatever our President does—whatever he does is going to be wrong in a lot of people's eyes. It's kind of like if you don't do it, you should have. And if you do do it, you shouldn't have. [LAUGHTER] It's a different type of cold war. Instead of—we used to worry about Russia. And I'm not too sure that—maybe we should still be worrying about Russia and a lot of other countries that--Things have changed. But they haven't—the basic things that caused the Cold War hasn't changed. There's all kind of weapons. I don't know.
Bauman: All right. I think that's all the questions I have for you.
Tyler: Okay.
Bauman: I want to thank you for coming in today.
Tyler: Thank you for having me.
Bauman: Pleasure to talk to you.
Tyler: Good.
Northwest Public Television | Trent_Frank
Frank Trent: Well I don't know.
Robert Bauman: I just let people tell their stories is really what the primary thing is. I have some questions to try and help it along a little, but--So we're going?
Man one: Yeah.
Bauman: Okay, great. All right. So maybe before I ask any questions, if I could have you say your name and spell it for us.
Trent: Okay. My name is Frank Trent. And I live in Richland, Washington.
Bauman: And the last name is T-R-E-N-T?
Trent: Yes.
Bauman: Okay. Great. And my Name's Robert Bauman. And we are conducting this oral history interview on February 12th of 2013 on the campus at Washington State.
Trent: '14.
Bauman: What's that? '14.
Trent: [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Thank you. You would think by February I would have figured--
Trent: You want to start over?
Bauman: No, we're good. I'll just say 2014. It's still this form that has it. There we go. So I wonder if we can start by maybe just telling us what brought you to Hanford. How you came here? What brought you here? And maybe your initial impressions of the place?
Trent: Well, I first came here in 1950, in the winter of 1950. And we came over the pass. At that time, it was—there was no Snoqualmie Pass at the time. It was the one out on 410 highway going over the mountains. Closes every winter.
Bauman: Not White Pass, huh?
Trent: Nope.
Bauman: I don't know.
Trent: Maybe it'll come to me. Anyway, we came over the pass in the back of a Deuce and a Half truck. And it was a whole company of us. And pre-military set up here. And we came in and there was snow about 200 feet in the air where they plowed it often, blew it into the mountains. And all you could see is walls of snow on both sides. But anyway, we came on in down here and lived in a pup tent. You don't know what those are probably. You do?
Bauman: Mm-hmm.
Trent: And two people teamed up. And here you had something about the size of a blanket. And it was thinner than a blanket. It was called a--the material was made like a tent material. And we called them pup tents. There was two people. And each person carried a half of it. And then when you went out into the fields or combat or wherever, you set that tent up. And that's where you lived. Well, it was pretty cold here. And we wound up burning anything we can get a hold of. It's a wonder we didn't kill ourselves. And these little pup tents, they only had a little opening you could make, or you'd get too much stuff in there--air, cold air.
Bauman: Do you remember any specific things that you burned?
Trent: Show polish. Anything that would get heat. Paper, shoe polish, anything. And that was the worst I guess. And we had one guy freeze to death. I don't know. It was cold. I started driving a water truck. And I wound up in the back of the water truck. It was a Dodge, 3/4 ton Dodge pickup. And it had a cover on it. So I slept in there. And during the night, the water container froze and busted. And I got water all over there and it froze. And I was sleeping in ice. [LAUGHTER] Me and another guy. But that was the shock of it when you got here was there was nothing here but desert. There was a few trees, but people hadn't started raising too many trees at that time. If they did, they weren't very big. That was my--and when we went out, we went out on the Project and stayed out there for three weeks. They had four groups. One group was off all the time. And the other three was covering around the clock. And we set up 120 millimeter gun emplacements, set up in a diamond formation. And then off to the side in the openings of the diamond formation, there was four 50 caliber machine gun nests. And we could fire. And we did. We fired tracers, and every so often, a tracer would come out. They were timed so that every so many shells, and then a tracer would come out. That way you could follow that tracer with your—aiming your gun. But they were also hooked up to, at a later time, to the radar. And there was radar guided. Anyway, that was the emplacements. And we had a full crew there 24 hours a day. And we went up to Yakima and took our guns with us. Two of them I think is all we took though. They were beginning to set up that firing range up there. And we were doing pretty good at shooting that thing. And evidently, the radar got off a little bit with their calculations. And wound up, we shot the cable off just off the tail end of the airplane. They left. They didn't want any more. They says, we're going and we're ain't coming back. So that's part of it. Anyway, that's the beginnings of my arrival here.
Bauman: Where on the site were you?
Trent: Are you familiar enough with the old Y? You go through the first barricade, then you drive for, I don't know, about halfway to 2 West, 2 East. Maybe not quite that far, but there's a turn off there. Goes back towards, still 2 East, that 2 East area. And then you go on down and pick up 2 West. And we turned off just after that barricade out there at the Y. It may be two miles down from that Y area, there was a turn-off. And there was dirt, gravel and dirt. That's the old military highway road. And we were back in there probably five or six miles. You could see Rattlesnake very plainly from there. And a later time, when they built that road down through there going out to Yakima—Horn Rapids High Road—and at a later time, why, you could see that road and traffic on it from out there. Because I went out there with a group on our 50th military reunion and we made a new visit there. And cars were going by. Then there was no road back there. Anyway, at that time, if the cars that had been there--we were that close to where the highway's at now. There's a big knoll out there, just a rounded hill of sand. And that was between us and the Rattlesnake Mountain. So that'll give you a general location of where we were. It was A Battery, 518th.
Bauman: Okay. So where were you from originally? Had you ever been to this part of the Northwest before?
Trent: No. I come out of Harlan County, Kentucky. Lot of hills down there, rolling hills, but nothing mountainous like we know them now. Born and raised on a farm. Family of 17—18, counting me. And one mother and father. And we raised everything we could raise to eat ourselves. And the only thing we bought was stuff like staples that you had to have that you didn't grow. My dad was a coal miner, and the older boys actually raised the foods that we needed. Fed the animals, and ate the animals. And then in, let's see, October the 8th, 1949, I and two other guys from that area joined the service. I rode a bus. It was raining, about 6:15 in the morning. Got on the bus and never looked back. We went from there to Harlan and got in a military bus. And they drove us to Corbin, Kentucky. And that's right in there near Knoxville. And from there, we got on the train. We went to Louisville and then to Fort Knox. So that's how I got to that. Then we spent three or four months, I don't remember, in basic training. And then we shipped out in trucks for this side of the mountain, for Washington. Well first, we came out by train. And then we got into buses and trucks and went up to Fort Lewis, and Fort Lewis over here. We were selected as the first group to arrive in the Tri-Cities to help set up.
Bauman: Oh, okay. So how long were you at Fort Lewis then?
Trent: Just long enough to not want it. We did a lot of advanced basic training, crawling through mud and dirt and dust. And when you come out of there, you couldn’t see nothing but eyeballs. You was hot and then you put your arm down to crawl forward and then shooting over top of you with tracers. And the dust would puff up and it would stick to you, sweat on your body. So that was an experience.
Bauman: Yeah. So you said when you were out of the site, you were there for about three weeks. Then you'd have a week off, then you’d go back. So in terms of food when you were out on site, what sort of food did you have? If you were in the tents all the time?
Trent: Well at the beginning, before we really got set up, we was eating what you would call combat type rations. They'd come in containers and it was dished out after it was heated up. Our stove was a Bunsen burner under pots and pans. And we’d go through a line and dunk our mess kit in the boiling water and get any germs off of it that way. And then we ate dinner, and then we come back and had another container we dunked it in and brushed it out. And then dunked it in clean boiling water again. So that's how we kept stuff kind of sanitized. And a lot of people got dysentery from it. But mostly, it wasn't—we didn't have it too bad. Food wasn't too bad. And at a later time, after we got to set up, we had a regular mess tent and cooks. And we ate good. Sand in it, but we ate.
Bauman: So did you know anything about Hanford before you came here?
Trent: No, and I didn't know anything after I got here. But none of us did. We just knew we was guarding this installation, and we would be on around-the-clock duty. If you were asleep, the alarm sounded, everybody went to their stations. And we had a number of planes come through. And we had to get our big guns on it. And we would track it until they gave us the order to shoot. We only shot one time out there. And that was basically to settle the guns in and orient them so when they shot at something, they got fairly close. Those 120 millimeter shell casings were probably about that long. And the projectile was probably about that long. And they were timed: after you shot one of them into the air, they were timed to the target. And then they blew up. And supposedly it would supposed to knock down anything within a—I think it was 75 yards radius. So it could get anything in four directions. And we come close to getting the target plane. Yeah, it wasn't funny to the pilot, but it was funny to us.
Bauman: So then when you had a week off, where did you go? Did you go to town?
Trent: We had barracks in town. And that's the barracks here in North Richland. If you're coming up George Washington Way going north and you come to that rise in the road, and then you can level and go down toward Battelle. Just as you cleared the top of the road, there was a steam and boiler plant, steam generating plant just off to the left. And then the road that went by that—that was one of the first roads. We generally would turn on that. All of that area back down in there was barracks. And you can still see some of the pedestals that they sat on. And then over on the other side of GW Way there was—no, I guess it's still on the same side. They just add roads dividing the camp. And we were fairly close to a service station over on the highway, highway Stevens if you're going out to Hanford. We were just off of that a little bit—our outfit was. And from there, whoever was ready to go in and go back out, why, we took off in Deuce and a Half trucks. And we'd go out in a convoy and relieve the other outfit that was out there. And while you were gone, your camp was taken over by a new group. And that rotated.
Bauman: So, on sort of a typical day, what might your duties be? What sorts of things might have happened?
Trent: Scavenging. We made trips around out there. They probably figured out what we were doing, but they didn't seem to bother us because we didn't have nothing but tents at first. And so we'd scavenge enough stuff until we could put some stuff together to get in out of the wind. We couldn't get away from the sand though. But we did that and then done our duty. And we went off duty in the late afternoon and after dinner, we was off for the evening unless you got an alarm, an alert. And immediately, whatever you could get on, why you got on, and you got on those guns. Got everything turned on and adjusts your azimuth and elevation, and be ready to fire whatever come through if you were told to fire.
Bauman: So how long did you have just the pup tents? At what point did you [INAUDIBLE]?
Trent: It's probably about two months. And they come in and put up what we called a trip tent. And it's big enough to hold about ten people, five bunks down each side. And then later we put in wooden floors in them, and so we'd raise them up off of the ground a little bit so we wouldn't be sleeping right next to the ground. So, they brought it all out, and we had to put it together.
Bauman: And so how long were you doing this? How long were at Hanford in this capacity?
Trent: I was out there almost three years, And this discharge here. And by then, I was married and had one kid when I was discharged. Discharged in February of '53. And from that point, I found whatever I could to work at. But it wasn't much for a while. Finally I put in an application for General Electric, and they hired me. And that was my first trip as a civilian out to Hanford.
Bauman: You mentioned you got married. Did you meet your wife here?
Trent: Yes. Her dad came in '43. Actually, he came in 1940 out to the Northwest. And he went back to Memphis again. And from that point, he was working just across the border in Arkansas, out of Memphis. And some guy come through, I guess from the government, and put the word out, anybody want to transfer or go move to Washington? We've got a project up there we're building, and we need help. Anybody we can get to go. And he came out with that group and worked out here. And a year later, she came out. Well first off, he came in '40, went back and came back in about '43, in '43. And then he was here about a year, and then the kids came out. They came out by railroad, and no supervision. I think she was 12, my wife, 11 or 12. Her mother had—she would have been 12--because her mother had died earlier, tuberculosis. And she came out, and the rest is history. He stayed here and raised his family and worked at Hanford and wound up--one day, they came in and they had nobody that could really read a blueprint and follow it. And so they come around looking, and somebody said, go see Mac. He'll do that. And that was the beginning of his rise, which didn't go very far. He was some kind of a maintenance supervisor out there. And they come and got him and he said, let's see your prints. And he looked at them a little bit. Yeah, he said, I can build it. So they took him over there and he built the building for them with a crew. But they'd already started building. He had to tear it all down because it was wrong. And then after, I don't know, maybe six months, seven, I was in passing, and went into the drugstore at O’Malley’s—you remember where that was at? Okay. That had a little soda fountain in there. And I went in there and me and another guy and ordered a milkshake. And she said what kind do you want? I says, any kind you got. I don't know, just a milkshake. She figured she'd fix me, so she went back there and made me a suicide milkshake. Everything in the fountain went in it. That drink’s pretty good. So that's where I met my wife, 1950. And we were married in December after that.
Bauman: That's a great story.
Trent: Raised three boys. One of them is a Microsoft jet pilot. Flies for Microsoft. And one of them, well at this particular time, is in Edmonton, Canada—construction manager of some kind, hot spot guy. And the other one, Frank, is working in construction over on the west side. And he is living in Brown's Point in Tacoma, right on the ocean.
Bauman: Yeah. So you mentioned at some point you got a job with GE. What sort of job was that?
Trent: Anything to get on. I started out doing manual labor and mowing lawns. And I probably had about five or six months of that. And then I was transferred to White--not White Bluffs—Riverton. And I was doing maintenance work and oil changes on the railroad engines. And many times you'd have oil clean up to your elbows. And I don't know what they did with the oil. We drained it out into containers, and they disposed of it. Probably illegally, in these days. And from there then I went to work at 2 West. And I worked T Plant, U Plant,--at T Plant 221-T, 224-T, those two plants. And then I worked also, that was T-Plant. And then U Plant, I went to work down there. They needed people down there, so they sent me down there and done the same thing down there in U Plant, because the areas were almost identical in operation. And then the stuff that came out of there went to REDOX I believe. And they run through the procedures there, separating stuff out and boiling it down to what they were really looking for. And so anyway, we handled a lot of powdered uranium in that 224 Building. And after it was centrifuged, the heavy metal uranium powder was thrown out to the sides and stuck to the sides of the centrifuges. And the liquid was settled back down and drained back out and recycled back through I guess. I don't remember exactly the procedure. And we'd ship that uranium out of there and put it in barrels. And it was shipped out, I don't know where it went to. Maybe some of it went to Oak Ridge, I don't know. And then that was in operations. And we worked the hot zones. And they had us when we'd go into one, we'd have the RAMU people. They'd check you in, and when you had up to your limit on exposure, you'd come out. Go in and take samples and clean up in areas that were really hot spots.
Bauman: When you did those sorts of things, what sort of protective clothing did you wear?
Trent: Well, we would go in and change into SWP clothing and hoods. We had our regular shoes and we put covers over the shoes, plastic over the covers. And your pants legs were all taped down so that nothing could get through. And gloves, of course. And it was all taped down. And the last thing that went on was a mask. You had a canister of air. And I think you had somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 minutes and you're out of air. You better be out of there, or at least close enough where you could hold your breath and run to get out of there. Yeah, we worked the hot zones quite a bit. Sometimes we'd have to work until we were triple exposed to get a job done. And then of course we was relieved out of that until we were even with the scale of exposure. So that when you back in, why, they basically had you at zero exposure for starting back up. There was a lot of sitting time, because they had to have the people. And if you didn't keep them there, you didn't have the people to do the jobs. So rather than fire them, they'd put them on clean work. And if they didn't have that, you sat in the lunch room and played cards. Then from there—I went in and later, I went from the 2 West Area to the 100 Areas, and was in power operation there--boilers, refrigeration, air conditioning, and pumping stations that pumped water for the reactors.
Bauman: So you were at several places on site then?
Trent: Mm-hmm. I worked 100 B, C, D, DR, 2 West, not 2 East, but I'd been in 2 East a number of times. 2 West, I think that's about it out there, Riverton of course, at the beginning I was in Riverton. That's the old railroad station that hauled stuff in and out of Hanford.
Bauman: So of those—of the different places on site that you worked at different jobs that you had, did you have one that you enjoyed the most?
Trent: I enjoyed operating equipment--boilers, steam engines, pumping water, of course, electric, diesel generators. We had on our river pump station, we had pumps down there that'd pump 105,000 gallons per minute each of water. And if something happened to those pumps, then the diesels come online automatically. Now the diesel size was the PT boat that John Kennedy used when he was in the service. They were two diesel generators of the same size that came out of the—or were installed in the PT boats. And they were pretty good size. They would pump the same amount of water as the big electric box. The lines, I don't know what size they were now. I seem to remember 100, 102 inches in diameter. Pretty good sized piping. And if something happened, the scram, why, of course, they had to have water and generally pumped through with the diesels if something happened to a pumping station. So you always had backup. There was one incident in the 200 Area's power house. We had a backup generator down there generating electricity to use in case of power outages or whatever. And they were set on automatic standby. And my father-in-law was at that with his crew, was there doing work in that area. And it was in an open, kind of an open area. The showers were in that general area too. Never had a problem with any of those diesel generators. And they were in there eating dinner. They set a row of lockers up to separate the area. And that was where they ate. And that's where they went in and took showers before they went home. Or they come out of hot zone, they still had to take a shower. And they were in there having dinner, and for some unknown reason, nobody hung around. They ate their dinner, and they got up and went out back to the job and whatever they were doing I guess, early. And the generator tripped and came online. There was something wrong with the governor. And a diesel generator when it turns loose like that, and it can't get fuel from one place, it'll get it from another. It went on up to critical speed and blew up. And it embedded metal about three inches into concrete, solid concrete. So that's how bad—it could have wiped out everybody in that room. It wiped the room out. All their lockers and everything, that was gone. But that was one of the incidences that I remember that happened.
Bauman: Do you have any idea roughly what time period that might have been?
Trent: Phew, no, I don't. It would've been in the low '50s, early '50s. Because he went to work there in 2 West when I first came here. Yeah, his crew worked 2 West, 2 East. So they rotated around, wherever they were needed. But that happened to be in the 2 West Area where that generator blew up. Nobody was hurt. Pure luck.
Bauman: Earlier when you were talking, you mentioned that when you were in the army stationed out here, you didn't really know anything about Hanford or what was going on?
Trent: Well, we know we were guarding the installations there. And we knew that workers came in by buses and left by buses. And then later years—first you couldn't drive a car out there of any kind other than government. And then later years of course, that was relented and people could drive out there to their area. But mostly we were in and out of there in buses. And we came in nothing but bus to the 1100 Area, which is over here, off of Spangler, south of Stevens. And we came into there and unloaded there in a big parking lot in there while we had our cars parked there. So that's the routine. Everyday, we get up, the buses come through town and picked you up, all you to the 1100 Area. You changed to your area bus and get on there and it'd take you to right straight to your area, and off of there and check you through the security. And the same way when you come out. Security would check you out, you'd get on the bus, they'd haul you home.
Bauman: Was there at some point that you ended up driving your own car out? Or would you take buses?
Trent: I did a couple of times, but it wasn't worth it. There's too much fuel. But fuel was cheap then, compared to now. Still, you had to—and we came out when John F. Kennedy came out here. The whole family went out. And I was at that time working at 100 N Area. And we got 100 N Area up. And I was on duty the night they went critical and put the reactor in operation. That was the first dual purpose reactor, 100 N.
Bauman: Do you have any specific memories about when President Kennedy was here? What the day was like, or remember anything about him arriving?
Trent: The only thing I know is we were--they had the place set up for visitors to come in. And they had a lot of chairs. And a lot of it was standing room only because they didn't have enough chairs. They were getting ready to build the Washington Public Power Supply System’s generating system out there. And the pumps, those pumps I swear that they were longer than this room, each pump, steam-generated or steam-powered. And that was 109 N, was that generating place. And people were rotated shift-wise the same way—ABCD was the shifts. And of course, the fourth one was off. And then while that one was off, a spare would come in. So actually it's five crews. It was interesting. I worked water side of it for a lot of years. We had one guy that worked out there that was scared to death of something he couldn't understand. And he could not understand the big piece of equipment operating. And he was scared of it. And one night on duty—our shift was, and the chief engineer said Frank, can you get down to 181 real quick. I says, well, yeah. So anyway I headed out, grabbed the first pickup I could find in the parking area there and drove it down to 181. Both diesels were running backup. Don't know what happened, still don't. Anyways, I found him. He was sitting back in a corner away out of sight of the diesels. He was standing there in a corner shivering, just scared—petrified. So I got him out and put him out in the pickup. And I say you stay out there and let me take care of the problem here. So anyway, I guess I took care of the problem and then got him out there. So I got the generators under control and asserted the diesels under control, put them back on automatic and standby. And then the other pumps of course, got them going in the order I was doing the job. And I went and got him back out there. And when I reported in and wrote the incident up, he came to me, I don't know, very short time thereafter. And he says Frank, I'm going to quit. He said, I'm married, I've got three kids. I can't get into the military. And that's what I want to do. So he said I'm going to divorce my wife and I'm going to volunteer for the Coast Guard. And he did that. And the next thing I know, he put a transfer in from the Coast Guard into the military, army. And they accepted him. So he got into the military even though he was married. And a few years down there, well I guess it was nothing but two or three years, or a year or two. Anyway I got a call from my son who was a warrant officer flying helicopters down in Louisiana, Texas and Louisiana area. But anyway he--I guess, yeah, it was Texas. Killeen, Texas. He said do you know a Dave Eggar? I said, yeah. He said you won't believe this, but he's the guy in charge of training us in these helicopters. [LAUGHTER] And he had went through the school, learned how to fly the helicopters, and wasn't afraid of them at all. And he wound up leading that group that my son was in through their training program. And my son flew choppers down there. He already had his private pilot license. He got that before he got out of high school. And anyway, he spent his time in the military and he started flying with them. Wound up at his own company with two jets and a chopper and a little fixed wing, twin engine plane. And then 9/11 went and wiped him out. His business went to nothing. So then he started with putting his pilot's license out there, his experience in getting letters out. And he got a call one day from Microsoft people and went to work for them. He's still doing it, all over the world.
Bauman: Yeah. I wanted to ask you, you had mentioned when you were in the army here and you would have you week off, you stayed in barracks. Once you got married, what sort of housing did you have?
Trent: The first house we got was a small--I think it was about a 20-foot trailer, used. And a lot of the early Hanford people would move trailers in out there. And added onto them as a matter of fact. But as they had kids in a small trailer, where do you put them? You put a room on it. And that's what we did, we lived in that trailer. And then we lived there up until I was discharged. And then we bought a trailer. And I was working for a guy that didn't like the idea of me buying a trailer. It was a single wide. But it was about, I don't know, probably 50 feet long, somewhere in that. It may not have been that big. It was big enough, it had three bedrooms. And bought the trailer and moved it in and set up in and fat, dumb, and happy. But he didn't like the idea of me working for him who was selling trailers and buying it from somebody else. So he fired me. [LAUGHTER] So that was our first home. And then we were forced to move out of the place out there next to the Battelle area, just south of Battelle. We had to move out of there because I wasn't in the military anymore. When I did go to work for GE, we got a house, prefab. I think it was a--first one was a two-bedroom. And then we got a three-bedroom house. And we lived there until they started selling the town back to people. And I was interested. They set it up in blocks. So they would complete the transfer of one block by contracts to the owner that lived in it. And some of the prices were, for the two bedrooms, were like $2,500. And three bedrooms was just slightly more, like $3,000, $3,200. And I don't think any of them ran over $5,000, any of the homes. And lo and behold, I got an eviction notice. I was laid off in between. And two days after they evicted me and I got out of that house, they sold my block. So I didn't get a house. [LAUGHTER] Anyway, that was kind of how we got started. Finally, I left here and worked down in Colorado for about a year and a half, two years. And put in a transfer back there, a transfer or quit and came back to—I was out here on vacation a week's vacation, ten days I guess. And I dropped by the unemployment office and they said yeah, we'll put you back to work. So anyway, I went down and terminated. Gave them my notice and came back out here and went to work. And I worked there until—see I don't remember now, '50—hmm. Late '60s, because I left the project completely in '68. And I was out there one day and boss came in and said, Frank, he said, I understand you talked to so and so. He’s an instrument guy, a contractor that installed instrumentation and tubing for those instruments. I don't remember his name. And he told you were a job was at. And I said yes, he did. Anyway, he said, did you go down for an interview and talk to those people? And I said no. He says, why don't you do that? I said why? I was working at Battelle. Well, he said, you never know. I said yeah, I can go down and talk to him. I went down and interviewed. Went on back out. Still hadn't heard nothing from him and boss came by again and asked me about it. I said, don't know, just sat in there fat, dumb, and happy waiting for things to happen. And then his boss came down and he says Frank, you take that job if they offer it. And after three months, if you decide you don't like it, you come back and we'll put you right back where you're at. You won't lose no seniority or anything. Lo and behold, it was the beginnings of the university here in North Richland. And I came down here and they put me to work. Punched out construction and—helped punch out construction and get them out here. And got everything in operation and moved the staff in. And the rest is history. I left here in 1995, right at 30 years retirement. With military, I had more than enough time for—I think it was a year and a half. 27 and three-quarters or something like that years--and then of course I had five years of service to attach on so, retired with 30 years.
Bauman: When you look back at your time looking at Hanford, overall how you assess Hanford as a place to work?
Trent: Well compare that to where I came from, and it was a gold mine. Because we were hand-to-mouth. And we had to raise everything by hand or horses or whatever, and some cows, and raised all of our eats and stuff like that. So, we worked. We didn't have no spare time. From the time I was seven, I had a hoe in my hand working. And my brothers, the same way. Girls took care of the house, the boys took care of the outside. We had a pretty good sized garden. And we also had large acres of corn and beans, cornfield beans, potatoes, large patches of potatoes. So we have plenty to eat. Never did lack stuff to eat. But when you look at the lifestyle, and you didn't know where your next shoes was going to come from or your clothes, because money—cash money was hard to come by. And dad worked the coal mines, so he didn't make a lot, but enough to feed his family and keep going. So it was pretty nice to get out here where you can make a decent living. I think I was making--I think I was making about $75 a week, net out, when I first started.
Bauman: When you first started working for GE or for--?
Trent: With GE, yeah. And I also worked the 300 Area. And I helped start up the Sandcastle out here, Battelle where they're at now. The first buildings, there was three of them. And I was down there to get the equipment started and get it running. So I did that until the union got me and forced me out. So that was another reason it made my decision easier to leave there. I had four layoffs from Hanford due to cutbacks. And seniority, it didn't matter who you were or whatever. Seniority won. The other guy sat there and laughed at you and said I told you. You'll be out there working your tail off and he'll be sitting on his fanny reading or whatever. Doing his job, but nothing extra. You get a guy that would get in there and work, it didn't matter. If you didn't have the seniority, you were gone. So I got caught in four layoffs. No, three. The fourth one I quit and came down here. But it was a nice way to make a living.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you for coming in today and telling us about your experiences both in the Army and working at Hanford. Appreciate it.
Trent: Same.
Bauman: Thanks very much.
Trent: You bet.
Northwest Public Television | Rickard_Bill
Robert Bauman: Turn the microphone on here.
Man one: Yeah.
Bauman: Okay.
Man one: Go ahead and just get comfortable. And whenever you’re ready.
Bauman: Okay. All right. We're going to go ahead and get started. I need to put my glasses on so I can see what I’m doing here. So if we could start first by just having you say your name and then spell your name for us.
William Rickard: Okay. My name is William H. Rickard Jr. W-I-L-L-I-A-M H. R-I-C-K-A-R-D Junior, J-R period.
Bauman: Thank you. And my name's Robert Bauman. Today's date is December 4, 2013. And we are conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So maybe we could start by just having you tell us a little bit about your background--where you're from, when you came to Hanford, what brought you here, that sort of thing.
Rickard: Okay. Well, the first time that I ever heard the words atomic bomb, I was rifleman in an infantry company for the Chinese combat command in a place in China called Chihkiang. Chihkiang was a dirt airstrip. There were about 100 soldiers there. Our main duty was to guard an ammunition dump at an airfield. In August, 1945, I'd been in the Army for 15 months. I was 19 years old. The captain called us together and said that United States Air Force had dropped a bomb in Japan. It was an atomic bomb. Of course, I was extremely glad that the war was over. It was a few days later, I stood on the same airstrip and a Japanese airplane flew in. Only I'd been in the Army in January, February, and March, and April along the Burma Road in China. During that stay in Burma, slept on the ground every night. Kept my M1 rifle with me all the time. When I got to China, I got a bed for the first time in four months. So Chihkiang duty was pretty soft compared to Burmese duty. And when they dropped the atomic bomb, I knew I would be going home. Well, they had a point system in the Army. I think you needed 65 points. And you got points for combat experience and so forth. Well, I was one point short. So guess what. I got assigned to a military police company in Shanghai, China. For six months, I was an MP in Shanghai, which is probably more dangerous than my stay at Chihkiang. But anyway, I finally got home. Like most veterans did, I used the GI Bill to get a degree. I graduated from the University of Colorado in 1950 with a degree in botany. And I got a job at the University of Colorado at that time installing weather stations in the Front Range. While I had a job, I decided to go to school some more, and I wanted to be a high school teacher so I could teach botany and biology. Well, I graduated from Colorado in 1950 and got a master's degree in 1953. And then I decided, well, maybe I ought to think of teaching in college. So I applied for a research assistant appointment at Pullman. So in 1953, Barbara, my wife, and I went to Pullman. And there I graduated in 1957 with a Ph.D. with Dr. Daubenmire. The first job I got was as assistant professor of biology at New Mexico Highlands University in Las Vegas, New Mexico. But it was a part time teaching job. The other part was a field research job at the Nevada Test Site. And the purpose of my work at the Nevada Test Site was to study the impacts of atomic explosions on the botanical aspects of the Nevada Test Site—Yucca, Frenchman Flat and Jackass Flat. I worked there for four years and saw the last above ground explosion, which was during the operation of Project Hardtack and Plumbbob. While I was at the Test Site, I met Jared Davis, who was working at Hanford. He was in the biology department and he offered me a job at Hanford. So I moved to Richland in 1960 and was employed by the General Electric Company. At that time, most of the interest was on developing peaceful uses of atomic energy. And one of these was to use nuclear explosion to dig a harbor at Cape Thompson in Alaska. And part of our job there was to get baseline data on the biota of the Arctic, and also to measure how much radioactivity had already been deposited by the years of nuclear testing by the United States and Russia. So that was the start of that. And I worked up there for a couple of summers. And I worked with Jerry Davis there, and Wayne Hanson, Don Watson, and Roy Nakatani, and Leo Bustad, and Frank Hungate. Frank was my boss for a while. And Jared Davis was the boss. But my real interest at Hanford was, although I did the uptake of radioactivity from soil to plants, I was really interested in perhaps getting a part of the Hanford site set aside as a kind of a research park. Had lots of help from various people that thought this was a good idea, particularly Rexford Daubenmire at Pullman and Herb Parker, who was manager of the Hanford Laboratories. We conceived the idea perhaps establishing Rattlesnake Mountain as a research natural area. And with the help of other people, particularly Benton County Commissioner at that time, and the building of the Highway 240 from Richland to Vernita Bridge, that set Rattlesnake Mountain apart from the rest of the site and offers a good excuse to--since it was primarily a buffer zone, that this would be a good place to establish the reserve, which eventually turned out to be the Arid Land Ecology Reserve. Which in 2000, was turned over to the Fish and Wildlife Service as a part of the Hanford Reach National Monument. So most of my research activity was done on ALE Reserve after the work we'd done in Alaska.
Bauman: And so what sorts of work were you doing at ALE Reserve?
Rickard: Well, the first project we started on was the impact of cattle grazing on shrub steppe. And we did that in conjunction with the International Biological Research Program--yeah, International Biological Research Program, which was divided up into various sections. One part was grasslands of North America. And the ALE Reserve is representative of sagebrush steppe vegetation in the Northwestern United States. There were other sites in New Mexico, Kansas, Colorado, Montana, North and South Dakota. And that lasted for several years. Then as time went on, I got older. And most of the work that I did was then associated with environmental impact statements. Even did the first environmental impact statement from what was the WPPSS plant at that time--the Basalt Waste Isolation Program. And I finally retired sometime. I don't know. Can't remember. I was 65 years old. But while I worked for the General Electric Company, I also taught school at an Army barracks down where the bus lot is today. And I taught the first class in plant ecology. And among my students over the years was Lester Eberhardt, Dick Fitzner, and Dennis Dauble, and Brett Tiller, president of Environmental Assessment Services. So for 30 years, I've taught as an adjunct professor at Washington State University in the Tri-Cities.
Bauman: And where was that located again, when you first started teaching at the Army?
Rickard: It was an Army barracks. That was the building that was the beginning of the WSU campus. One of my first students was Les Eberhardt, Dick Fitzner, which later were killed in an airplane accident in the Yakima Firing Center. But over the years, many people that worked at Hanford had taken my classes.
Bauman: I want to go back, if we can, to when you were talking about your work in New Mexico, at the Nevada Test Site—it’s interesting. What sorts of things did you find in your research there?
Rickard: Well, one of the first things that--these were small explosions—ten to 40 kiloton range, maybe up to 100. And they fired them one a week. Of course, when you watch one of these things from ten miles away, from a shot that's on a tower, maybe 500 or 600 feet off the ground, first thing you'd see is just a flash of light and then as the ball forms, it's just a whole mess of colors--purple, orange. And then it disappears and a whole lot of activity, just a massive amount of activity. And then things catch on fire. There's creosote bush, yucca trees a mile away just ignite like kitchen matches. And then the cloud develops and the big stem and the mushroom cloud. But the vegetation just disappears. It's just cooked. But even after a few summers, the surviving vegetation comes back. And the physicists at the test site that made these things, people from Los Alamos and Livermore, about the only thing they noticed that after a year or two after the explosion, that the ground was bare and then it would get green. And that was a big surprise to the physicists. But was quite common to plant ecologists, because the plant was Russian thistle. It would blow across the landscape, scatter seeds, and the first invading plant was Russian thistle. Just like at Hanford, where you plow up a field and leave it, what do you get? Russian thistle, and then a whole lot of other plants come in. And in time, it would recover because most of the radioactivity wasn't at the site, it was gone. It went someplace else. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Hmm. Interesting. And then your work in Alaska--
Rickard: Yes.
Bauman: What sorts of things did you find in your research there?
Rickard: Well, the main thing there was my colleague, Wayne Hanson, he was interested in the food chain of American Eskimos, and the fallout from nuclear weapons tests in the Pacific and Russia and various places. The northern hemisphere got most of the fallout, and in heavy fallout areas, with rain, like in Arctic Alaska. And the flora there was occupied--a great part of it was lichens and mosses, which were the food of caribou. Radioactive fallout comes down with rain and snow. And if you have a long lived plant, it keeps accumulating on the leaves until the leaves drop. And then they hit the ground and decompose, and cesium and strontium, which are about a half-life of 30 years, eventually get into the soil and then can recycle. In Alaska, the mosses and lichens, they don't die right away. And they keep accumulating radionuclides, and builds up so that it has very high levels of radionuclides as compared to trees that drop their leaves, grasses that die. And lichens are an important food of caribou in the wintertime. So they accumulated large burdens of radiocesium. And then the people, the diet of the American Indians and Eskimos of Alaska consisted of caribou meat. So the people had higher levels of radiocesium than people in the United States. That's a health physics concern, which is like Ron Kathren, that's their job.
Bauman: Yeah. So you talked ALE a little bit, and your involvement in that. And you mentioned Benton County Commissioner. Do you remember a Benton County Commissioner who was--
Rickard: I don't remember his name, but he loved wildflowers. And at that time, the county was interested in building a road from Prosser to Vernita Bridge. They wanted to go through Snively Canyon. But the Department of Energy didn't think that was a good idea. But we had to convince the county that it wasn't a good idea. And the county commissioner, he decided that he ought to side with the Department of Energy.
Bauman: So what was it about—why the desire to create ALE, I guess? What was it about the area that you thought was--
Rickard: Just the desire to create a natural area, probably dates back to the days of Theodore Roosevelt setting apart National Forests and National Parks. And we have nice National Parks in the country--Mount Rainier in Washington, and Olympic, all representing mostly forested areas. Rocky Mountain National Park, Yosemite. But nobody was interested in saving sagebrush, sagebrush grass habitats. This was primarily because sagebrush was not viewed as a useful resource. In fact, it was a pest. And rangeland managers thought it was a good idea to get rid of it. And when the first travelers crossed southern Idaho, they burned it because it provided fuel. But they hated it because it didn't provide any food for their cattle or sheep. So it was then regarded as a pest. And every Bureau of Land Management started campaigns to get rid of it. But before you got rid of it, we had to understand if it had any good. But this was a tough sell. You're not going to sell this, that keeping it has any benefits. But it's also wise if you have a resource that you can destroy it, or at least you ought to understand how it works. It's been here a long time, and learn the mechanics that has enabled it to stay this way. And the biggest threat to the shrub steppe was people. When Lewis and Clark came here, there was several resources in Washington State that people could use right away. One was the fish, one was the forest, the other was grass. So it's no surprise our first white people in Washington used the grass. They brought in cattle and sheep. Then came the magnificent discovery of the plow that now you plow up this stuff and raise crops. You could even raise more crops with irrigation. So it started to disappear. Half the sagebrush steppe in Washington disappeared by 1914. So this resource was getting smaller and smaller. So at least some of the people think that, well, maybe we ought not get rid of it all. And the Hanford site was an unusual opportunity to do this, because people who were farming were moved. This is the first time in history that a productive, cultivated land was converted to a lower use instead of a higher use. Higher uses are urban areas, places like Hanford, industry. Lower uses are cattle grazing. But the highest use of all is probably research and education. So here we have an opportunity where we had towns completely destroyed, abandoned productive fields that are now allowed to go revegetate by themselves. And they have. For the last 70 years it's been slowly changing back to what it would be, but it's been impeded by a lot of alien species that came with agriculture. Among these are cheatgrass, Russian thistle, and others. So it's important to have a place where you can just monitor the changes that take place over time.
Bauman: I want to also ask you about something that you're involved in, the National Environmental Research Park?
Rickard: Yes.
Bauman: Could you explain that, what that was?
Rickard: It was the national--all the DOE sites--not all, but most of them--belonged to the National Environmental Research Park. Oak Ridge, Savannah River, Hanford, Los Alamos. I think those are the--and Savannah River, yeah. And the purposes of the park was just to serve as places where we could do ecological research in different kinds of ecosystems.
Bauman: So there are scientists at each of those places and parks?
Rickard: There were scientists at each--it was never as popular at Hanford as it was with the other parks, partly because ALE Reserve had already been set aside acting as a National Environmental Research park before the other sites. Idaho is also a member. The Department of Energy, as far as I know, decided not to support that, but did support ALE.
Bauman: We're going to go back to when you first came to work at Hanford, 1960. Had you been here before?
Rickard: I was here--I went to Pullman in '53. And I'd been to Richland.
Bauman: What were your first impressions of Richland, have you thought--
Rickard: Well at the time, I thought it was kind of--a lot of other places in Washington I'd rather be. [LAUGHTER] I think it was in August when Barbara and I--we got here in September. No, in '53, Barbara and I drove down from Pullman to Celilo Falls because I wanted to see Celilo Falls before it got covered up by a dam. We stopped in Pasco, and it was 112. [LAUGHTER] 112 degrees in the shade. We decided this wasn't a real nice place. Of course, we'd been at Indian Springs, Nevada, too. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So what about when you came back in 1960 then, what did you think of the place?
Rickard: Well, I was impressed, really, mainly with the people. When I worked at the 100-F Area, the first couple of days I stood by the 100-F Reactor and thought that maybe in a few years that this reactor would be closed down and that there'd be Russian thistle growing around the edge of it. The N Reactor closed in 1965. So in the five years that I was here, the F Reactor wasn't working anymore. I thought that was probably a good thing.
Bauman: So you worked initially for General Electric?
Rickard: General Electric, yeah. Battelle came in '65. Then I joined Battelle, so I was one of the first people.
Bauman: So did you work essentially sort of in different places all over the site?
Rickard: I did. I was on the ALE reserve at the old Army camp. At the buildings there for ten years, perhaps. I was at 331 Building. When I retired I still worked as part time for Battelle—PNNL then. And in other years, I've worked with the--what was the—NORCUS program. It was a DOE-sponsored, program where faculty and students from the campus here, could be assigned to PNNL and work. And I did that for a number of years too. And many of the graduate students that we had came through the NORCUS program to PNNL. And we had students from all over the country that spent summers here at Hanford working on ALE. We had graduate students that worked on elk. The first studies of elk on the Hanford site were done by graduate students. They had people studying small mammals, bald eagles, deer, coyotes. I don't know how many graduate students from the University of Washington, Montana, Oregon State that over the years actually got master's and doctorate degrees through what was then NORCUS programs.
Bauman: So it was a teaching place as well?
Rickard: Teaching program too, yeah.
Bauman: Wanted to ask you--President Kennedy visited this site in 1963 to dedicate the N Reactor. Do you have any memories, or were you there when he was here?
Rickard: No. I remember when he was here, but I didn't go to the celebration. I think I was probably out of town or maybe assigned to someplace else in the '60s.
Bauman: I wonder, of the different kinds of work that you did at Hanford, the different projects you worked on, what was sort of the most challenging thing that you worked on, and maybe the most rewarding part of your work?
Rickard: Oh, I think probably the most rewarding part was the working with students, working with the actual people. And then I think the day that the Arid Land Reserve appeared on the map.
Bauman: Sure.
Rickard: That was probably the--
Bauman: And what about the most challenging aspect of your work--was anything that—
Rickard: Oh, I never found them particularly challenging. I just took heart--I think one of the professors at Washington State told me, research is about 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration. So, it's work, but it's enjoyable. And there's always some satisfaction in learning something you didn't know before, no matter how small it is. I don't imagine it's nearly as important as somebody that discovers a cure for cancer or heart disease or something. But it's pleasant when you can just discover something that you didn't know before.
Bauman: So when you look back at your years working at Hanford, overall, how would you assess Hanford as a place to work?
Rickard: I think it's been a good ride. I liked teaching, but I enjoyed the research more. I'm more of a researcher rather than a teacher. But I think they belong together.
Bauman: Is there anything that--event or incident or something that happened when you were working at Hanford sort of stands out in your memory that--
Rickard: Oh, I think the thing that probably stands out, not in a good sense, but it was when Les Eberhardt--[EMOTIONAL]
[VIDEO CUTS OFF]
Rickard: I'm sorry about that.
Bauman: That's fine. No problem at all. Okay. So I just have one or two more questions. One was, I wanted to ask you about--so you started in 1960.
Rickard: Yes.
Bauman: I wonder what sort of changes you saw take place at Hanford--either in technology or in what was being done.
Rickard: Oh, there's been lots of advances since I started. Certainly computers, GPS, DNA analysis. All these things advanced field research. DNA is very useful now in plant taxonomy. A recent case about the White Bluffs bladderpod. Perhaps you know about the White Bluffs bladderpod, an endangered species. Argument whether it's a real species in danger or whether it's just a variety of a more common species of bladderpod. So I think probably Endangered Species Act has a great deal to do with the desire of people to protect rare endangered species. And certainly, the Arid Land Ecology Reserve does that very well. It preserves samples of native vegetation, and the impacts that people have had on the natural environment. Particularly in Native American people and their view of the environment is much different than the people that want to use the environment. So all these technological advances have helped answer these questions.
Bauman: Obviously, at some point, the mission at Hanford shifted to cleanup from production. Did that start happening while you were working at Hanford? And if so, how did that impact what you were doing, or did it?
Rickard: Well, Hanford has a long history of recognizing that particularly the production reactors were releasing radionuclides into the river and to the ground. And there was a great deal of concern of whether these radionuclides and associated toxic metals really had an impact on the river and the biota that use the river. Over the years, the number of Canada geese that nest on the islands has been well documented. During the years the reactor operations, geese populations increased. Populations of bald eagles increased. Populations of deer decreased. Populations of quail increased. Even though with the closure of the reactors, some animals have not increased. When you got people work--there was no hunting. There was no grazing. There was no farming. But some of the animals continued to go down. Two of these--one was the sage grouse. Another one was the sage sparrow. These animals, the birds, depend upon sagebrush. Sage grouse eat sagebrush. Sage sparrows, they nest in sagebrush. Although you can destroy sagebrush by plowing or burning, burning has always been a part of the shrub steppe. It always takes out the shrubs. In time, the shrubs comes back. It burns, the shrubs disappear. And if the area is very large, the amount of fire is very small. So that there are substantial populations of sage sparrows and sage grouse that as the sagebrush returns by itself, they move back. Got down to the point where you have a small amount of sagebrush and if it burns, it takes years to come back. And even though at Hanford, it wasn't destroyed by farming anymore, fires have been a tremendous impact. So the number of acres of mature sagebrush today is very small. Not because it's been plowed, but simply because we had a lot of wildfires. And the sage grouse disappeared in 1960. The sage sparrow is nearly there now. So the sage grouse is now up for consideration to be an endangered species. It might be a good idea to restore sagebrush to Hanford, or sage grouse to Hanford by planting sagebrush.
Bauman: So I guess one last question then. In your years of studying the ecology of the area here, what was sort of the most significant impact of the Hanford site on the ecology of the area?
Rickard: Well, land use on the Hanford site, it's been different. It's different. There's no place else in Washington that ever supported plutonium production. It's the only place where productive land has ever been stopped agriculturally. I think it's important just for us to keep watching and monitoring and reporting this as time goes by. I think that's the future of it. It'll be cleaned up. But we've got to decide what to do next. And in my opinion, I think probably that if we were really interested in saving sage grouse, for example, on the Hanford site, that the best use would be a commercial nuclear power plant. Occupy a very small area. Develop the rest of the land back to habitat suitable for sage sparrows and sage grouse, and use it for recreational purposes. I don't think that the public is going to go for farming or things like that. So a combination of industrial facilities with wide areas of natural habitat would be the most likely use. That's my opinion.
Bauman: Well, is there anything that we haven't talked about that you would like to discuss, or anything I haven't asked you about?
Rickard: I think I'm pretty well exhausted. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Well I, want to thank you very much for coming in today and sharing your experiences.
Rickard: Well, I certainly appreciate your help here.
Bauman: Thank you very much.
Northwest Public Television | Rhoades_Jack
Robert Bauman: Okay. We'll go ahead and start. And if we could start by having you say your name and then spell it for us.
Rhoades: Sure, my name is Jack L., middle initial for Lewis, Rhoades, R-H-O-A-D-E-S.
Bauman: Great. Thank you very much. And my name is Bob Bauman and this is October 16th of 2013. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So let's start with, if you could talk about your family's background. What brought them here? What brought you and your family here to the Tri-Cities, and when, and that sort of thing?
Rhoades: Sure, well my dad worked for DuPont in the early '40s--like '40, '41, '42--in a TNT plant for the war effort, and he had a college degree in chemistry. So when the Manhattan Project kicked off in late '43, he was one of the people selected out of DuPont's Joliette Plant to go down and train on the chemistry of plutonium at Clinton Works, which later became Oak Ridge, Tennessee. It was located in Oak Ridge, probably an Army Depot at the time. And when he was transferred to the Clinton Works, why, my mom and my younger sister and I—I would have been about four then—went back to the ranch in Colorado and lived with her parents until my father got transferred up here to Hanford in like April of '44. And we finally got a house, or were on line to get a house, by August '44. And so what I can remember--I mean I was a young kid, but this was pretty traumatic, all the excitement of the war effort--but my mom got a telegram, which was hand-carried out to the farm by the postman. And it just simply said, go to Denver, get on train such and such. There'll be a one-way ticket for you waiting, get off at Hinkle, Oregon and the government will take care of you from there. So it was amazing because the train had some servicemen on it, but the preponderance of people on this train were women, just like my mother, headed to Hanford with two or three screaming kids. Everybody was trying to carry a couple suitcases, trying to carry a kid or drag a kid. We got off the train in Hinkle, Oregon—which is out like the armpit of America—and it was dark. It was probably midnight. And the Green Hornets, or the old Army buses, were there with a bunch of MPs. And the soldiers were really great. They helped all the women get their luggage off and loaded us all up into buses and drove over-- course we had to go the long way around Wallula Gap to Hanford. And the parking north of the Federal Building was all administrative and dormitories. So my dad had actually been in a dormitory there with a roommate for six months. And so he was out front waiting when the bus got there, along with tens of other guys. And so his roommate had gotten moved to another room, so there was like two cots in there. And my mom and dad had one cot, and my sister and I had another cot. And we lived there for several weeks until his name came up and we moved into an F house on—it's Jadwin now, but it used to be Goethals—down in the 300 block. There used to be Campbell's Grocery Store across the street. That's the way life started for us. I was five at the time, but my birthday was in late October, so I started the first grade in Lewis and Clark, which was one of the first schools that was occupied by students because they were still building the houses toward the north. I think maybe Marcus Whitman was in place, and later on Jefferson was built. But there were so many kids that when my mother took me to school, I was assigned to go to school from 6:00 AM to noon. And then other kids came in and went from 1:00 to like 5:00 or 6:00 at night. And so nobody had a car. You just were on foot. And then of course, the government had the Green Hornet buses for transporting people around town to a limited extent, but mostly for transporting workers out to the 200 Area. My dad was actually was the first plant manager of T Canyon, which was one of the two bismuth phosphate plants for producing uranium from the fuel from B Reactor. He later became the manager of 231-Z. When they first started processing plutonium, the end result at Hanford was plutonium nitrate, and they had to reduce it. It would come out of T and B Canyons as a fluid liquid. And so 231-Z then condensed it down to like a green Jell-O, and that's what they flew to Los Alamos. And then Los Alamos actually converted the green Jell-O to the metal which went into the first Trinity explosion. And even though everybody knows about Nagasaki because of the plutonium there, there was actually a third pit that was available. And after Hiroshima, Tibbets flew back to the United States to get the third pit in case it was needed. But, fortunately, the Japanese surrendered. So after the war was over, my dad got promoted up to what was called an area supervisor. He managed all of the plutonium activities because they'd started a new building that was called 234-5, or Z Plant. And Z Plant was the plant that produced the pits during the Cold War, and that's the nuclear core. So what they made down at Los Alamos for Trinity and Nagasaki, they transferred the production and the production line up to the building in 234-5 and he was a manager of that. I remember, in later years, my dad talking about the building was divided into two parts. There was the top secret half and the secret half, and the workers didn't know who was on the other side. They had entrances from different directions and they never communicated. And the whole building had—the doors were like a bank vaults, not three foot thick, but they were steel bank vault doors. And he said he had to memorize over 100 combination locks in the building. And to him, that was one of the more challenging tasks that he had to do.
Bauman: And how long did he work at Hanford?
Rhoades: We left in '50, and it ultimately caused his demise. But he had, according to the health physics people, he ended up dying of stomach cancer. And so there was a 50-50 chance that it was caused by working at Hanford. But he had developed really severe ulcers. And they eventually had to cut out half of his stomach because it just perforated and he kept almost bleeding to death. And so we moved to Texas and he went into business with one of his brothers in Odessa, Texas selling real estate and insurance. And later moved back in about 1960 and he then worked for United Nuclear, and he was a manager of extrusion press for N Reactor fuel. And then later on was hired by DOE and was a director of safety for DOE.
Bauman: And what was your father's name?
Rhoades: Paul Gordon Rhoades.
Bauman: And so during the war period when you were in first grade, did you have any idea of what your father was doing? What he was working on? What his job was?
Rhoades: No, absolutely nothing. And he was absolutely paranoid about the secrecy aspect. I can remember that vividly. And I can remember when news of the bomb was released on the radio, and my mother called him on the phone out at the plant. When she said, did you know that the bomb they dropped on Japan was made in Hanford? And he slammed the phone down, wouldn't even talk to her. He viewed working at Hanford as the same way a marine would view going ashore in Iwo Jima. It was his duty. In fact, he was not really for going after the compensation stuff that I think was voted in in 2000.
Bauman: Did he at some point then talk about what he was doing out there? What he--
Rhoades: Not much really. I mean, he did have anecdotes, like talking about the Green Run, when they released iodine-139. And one of the things I remember him talking about was arriving at work in a bus. And ruthenium is something that can't be filtered out in the sand filters on the plutonium processing plants, and so it would condense on the side of the towers because the chimney was so tall that it would cool off and then it'd condense on the inside of the--Well, every once in a while there'd be a change of conditions and this stuff would flake off, and go out the top of the stack, and be like snowflakes falling on the ground, and they have a short lived half-life. So the guys would get off the bus. They'd have to put on gauze mask and booties and everything, and walk into the building, and then get decontaminated before they entered the building. And then that was the start of their eight-hour shift. But there was no question that production was paramount. And there's no question in my mind that what DuPont did with the knowledge that was available in those days for designing the canyons and the reactors, was nothing short of brilliant. And even though people are upset with the environmental contamination--because we basically have got five square miles--or five by five, 25 square miles that's contaminated from the soil to the groundwater out there in the 200 Areas. But compared to what they did in Russia, which was dump it straight into the lake that fed out under the Arctic Circle, DuPont took advantage and was farsighted beyond belief in my professional estimation. I just marvel at how DuPont did on designing the reactor, and designing the canyons, and having them work safely.
Bauman: You say your father didn't really talk about it a whole lot--his work—did he ever express any concerns about safety at all or was he--
Rhoades: Never. In fact, DuPont was--as I grew up, and then as I worked later and they were down at Savannah River, and when I was working at Hanford--DuPont probably had the highest reputation for safety of any large organization in the nuclear industry. At Savannah River, if a guy climbed up a ladder, and did something stupid, and fell off and broke his arm at home, and he came to work and they found out that he had been unsafe at home, then he had time off. I mean, he was punished for what he did on the weekend because he was not thoughtful in his safety process. But DuPont, I held them in extremely high regard, high reputation. And they were, when you think about it, they did this for a dollar. They definitely were part of the war effort that sacrificed for the good of America. They weren't in it to make money or anything like that. They just were doing what they were paid to do. And they got out as soon as they could. And then they came back and did a second stint when they were asked. They were the only company that the government trusted. So they built Savannah River.
Bauman: I want to go back to talking about when you first arrived and you were five years old, do you remember any sort of first impressions that you had, or early memories of first arriving in Richland?
Rhoades: Oh, it was, of course, for a kid in the first grade, it was exciting because everybody was the same. They were all on foot, and they were all new. In fact, that kind of curiosity anecdote was on the first day as I was walking to school with my mother, and we got about half way to the school. And another woman who's coming in on a side street, and she had a little boy. And my mother just about passed out. It turned out it was her college roommate, who they hadn't seen since she graduated from college. And they both had gone their separate ways and it ended up that they are actually living in the house behind us. And they renewed their friendship from college and it went on until they both passed away.
Bauman: Wow.
Rhoades: Yeah.
Bauman: You mentioned that in first grade, you started at 6:00 AM. There was so many children that was a way they could serve the needs of all the families with children. How long did that last? Did that last through first grade or--
Rhoades: Yeah, it probably did last the first year. But by the time the year had gone by and as a year progressed, they were building hutments out alongside the school. So basically, the first grade was about the only time I went to school inside of a building. And maybe the sixth grade up in Jefferson, I went inside a building, but the rest of time I was always in a hutment. There were just more kids than there was space. But yeah, that was sparse. I mean, you didn't have a car. The only entertainment was playing bridge and softball. They had a very organized adult softball league, so that was the entertainment. There was no stores to buy Christmas gifts or anything. You ordered whatever you wanted out of Sears and Roebuck in July, and it got back-ordered, and you got it in the following July. But when Griggs opened over in Pasco that was a big thing because when I wanted a bike. And when my dad bought me a bike, basically, he had to borrow somebody's car. And we drove up to Yakima, and then he came home and assembled it, and turned us loose. For kids, the basic entertainment was skating. And they had concrete tennis courts up by Lewis and Clark--on the south end of Lewis and Clark--and so that was the only surface that you could roller skate on, because you had those old clamp on roller skates that you tightened with a key that just hooked on to your heel and the sole of your shoe. And so we were just constantly roller skating. There wasn't other entertainment. There was just recess at school.
Bauman: Were there any movie theaters, anything like that?
Rhoades: Yeah, there were. There were two movie theaters. And every weekend your dad gave you a dime. And you could get in for a nickel, I think, and get popcorn for a nickel or something like that. Probably everything you stood in line for—I mean everything—there was just a line beyond human belief. Like when it was haircut time, the only barbers in town at that time were down at the Allied Arts, down below Jackson's bar. And so, I don't know, they had two or three barbers in there. So Saturday morning, the boys and their fathers would show up to get their haircuts. And so there'd be a line of 100 kids. There wouldn't be no adults. They were all up at the bar playing pool and having a beer while the kids stood in line waiting to get a haircut. But when Ganzel’s came in was like night and day. Even shopping at the grocery store, you had to become friends with the butcher. If you didn't know somebody in the grocery store, and they befriended you and gave you a heads up that, hey, there's some marshmallows coming into town, why, you just did without. You ate a lot of canned fruit and vegetables and stuff like that. And people were always doing their own chickens and putting them up. But it was just pretty spartan. They gave you a house. I don't know if my dad even paid any rent. Basically, they gave him grass seed. They gave him coal. We just had a real nice house. And my parents had borrowed somebody's pickup, and they'd driven up Yakima and bought some furniture, and brought it home one piece at a time. But we lived down there on Goethals for, probably, from '44 to '49, or something like that. And then we moved up on McMurray, and then we left in '50 and went down to Odessa, Texas.
Bauman: What about institutions like churches? Were there churches for people to go to on Sundays in those early years?
Rhoades: We didn't. It wasn't because my parents didn't believe in God, it's just like we didn't go to church. I mean, we'd have had to walk. I'm not even sure where--I honestly do not remember where the closest church would have been. I'm sure there were churches, though, because the government set off areas for parks, they set off areas for schools, they set off areas for churches, very thorough.
Bauman: What about any community events that--
Rhoades: Not much. They had Richland Days. They had like the polio March of Dimes drives. Actually it was probably after—between, let's say, '45 and '50—when Camp Hanford really had gotten established and they had moved in missile people. This was just a sizable number of soldiers up there in North Richland, but they had much better facilities for entertainment--movies and all--it was just built newer. And so even though my dad didn't serve in the service, he had a lot of friends that had been in the service, and so we could go to movies up there. And they had outside entertainment that came in that you could go to. We never did live out at Hanford or anything like that. My ex-father-in-law actually came here and he lived out at Hanford for a while.
Bauman: So you said your family then moved away in 1950, and then came back in 1960? Your father came back?
Rhoades: Yeah, about ten years later he came back. I'm not too--
Bauman: Did you come back at that point also?
Rhoades: Well, I was in college, so I came up here after I graduated in '61 and went into the—they still had the draft at that time—so I volunteered for the Navy, and ended up flunking a hearing test and flight school. So I got washed out of flight training. And Vietnam hadn't started to build up yet so they weren't desperate for pilots. So after I got out of the Navy, I came back up here and stayed for a short while and got a job. I had a mining, engineering and geology degree, so I got a job in Colorado in a molybdenum mine, and worked there for a couple of years, and decided to go back to college and get a degree in metallurgy. And so I went to WSU and graduated from there in '65, went down to Kaiser Steel in California. By then, my dad had moved from working for the contractor into working for the AEC. Now, I'm not too sure—I'm sure he just probably just wanted me and my wife and their grandkids closer to them—but anyway, he told the people in personnel that I had a metallurgy degree. And one day I got a call from Wanda Cotner, that was the branch chief over the personnel hiring, and she asked me if I'd come up for an interview. And she said that she could give me a nice raise if I'd think about joining the AEC. So I ended up accepting the offer. And when I got my Q Clearance, I moved up here in July of '67, and worked for DOE as an individual contributor over PNLs. It was a Hanford lab. PNL, I guess, had taken over by then. They had a number of very important metallurgical programs on understanding how plutonium reacted, especially in the reactor with neutrons hitting it all the time. So I advanced very nicely. And by the early '80s, I was assistant manager for--it was then ERDA or AEC--for all the compliance programs at Hanford--that'd be safety, and QA, and environmental, and security--so all the compliance structure at Hanford. Then, probably, in about '84, I guess, I moved me over and I was assistant manager for all the nuclear operations at Hanford. So I had the 300 Area for the fuel fab for N Reactor. And we still had N Reactor running. And FFTF was starting up, we had PUREX running and T Canyon. I probably had a billion dollar budget back in the '80s just for all the nuclear operations here at the site. So we did the first comprehensive EIS that was ever done in the Department of Energy for the tank farms, built the last double shell tanks that were ever built.
Bauman: And how long did you work at--?
Rhoades: I worked for about 20 years for DOE, and the AEC, and then I took an early retirement in, must've been like 1988. So it must have been about 21 years I worked here. So I left Hanford and went over to Idaho Falls and was as a manager over their capital construction projects. And then I got transferred to Rocky Flats. After the FBI and EPA had shut down Rocky Flats, the Department of Energy terminated the contract with the contractor. And actually they didn't even compete the contract. They just, literally, gave it to EG&G, which is almost unheard of, to not compete a major contract. So I was in charge of—they had shut down Rocky Flats operations. And so when EG&G came in, our charter was to restart the plant. And so I was the project manager over restarting the plutonium operations at Rocky Flats. I got promoted up to being assistant general manager over environmental remediation. And then I got a call from Lockheed down in Houston and they were trying to break into the DOE business. And so they hired about 20 experienced people that had worked in and outside of DOE to put together proposals to run these big contracts, whether it be Oak Ridge, or Rocky Flats, or Idaho, or Nevada Test Site. And so then I worked for Lockheed and it then became Lockheed Martin. But I worked for Lockheed from like '93 to '96, and I was a general manager of one of their environmental remediation divisions. And I transferred back up here, which was probably about the sixth or seventh time I've been through this town. But when Lockheed Martin and Fluor won the Westinghouse contract in '96, I got transferred back to Richland. So I'd made a circuitous loop that had gone from Richland to Idaho Falls to Rocky Flats outside of Denver, down to Houston, the Nevada Test Site, and the back up to Hanford. But I ended up, after I retired from Lockheed Martin, I went to work for a small business here at ATL International. They currently run the 222-S Laboratory. I was a vice president for them over all their Hanford work. Eventually, I just decided to go out on my own. So I consulted from about 2004 to the end of 2011. And by then, I looked around and all my contacts had either died or moved to Arizona or Florida. Even today, I probably don't know two human beings that are still working for a living. But this place has been--and DOE has been—absolutely a blessing to me.
Bauman: I want to go back. So your family left in 1950. Then you came back in '67, roughly?
Rhoades: No, I came back in '61.
Bauman: Right.
Rhoades: Just for a short period of time. Just long enough to enlist in the Navy. And then when I got ready to start flight school, I took a hearing test. And believe it or not, the physical requirements for all branches of service are the same. It's just that they check people that are going to be in the Air Force or in the Navy, they just check certain things closer than they do if you want to be a marine. And so I was just borderline acceptable in the hearing. And since they had an abundance of pilots and the Vietnam War hadn't escalated or not, they ended up giving me an honorable discharge and reclassifying me as 1-Y, which is, it has to be a national emergency to call you back up. I came home and then went to Colorado and went to work in the mine.
Bauman: When you came back here for the job working at Hanford, I was wondering, what ways had the community changed since you were here as a child going to school?
Rhoades: You know what, to me, at a macroscopic view of the Tri-Cities, the biggest thing that's changed is the number of people. Richland is still uptown and downtown. Kennewick is striving to open up that area between the two bridges along the river. But the biggest thing is now there are probably three times as many people. There was probably 90,000 people between the three towns early in the '50s. And now there's probably a quarter of a million people. And so the biggest changes is that the roads and streets haven't been modernized--or the stoplights--to handle triple the traffic. But the wine industry obviously is a major thing, because when I was a kid growing up here—When they talk about termination dust storms, they were not kidding, because I lived in eastern Colorado and my parents had lived through the Dust Bowl, and I knew what dust storms looked like. And when they hit Richland, your house—I remember my mother, she—when they vacuum--you've just got sweep broom and a wood floor, and your sweeping it up, and throwing it in the yard with a dust pan. But the irrigation changed all that. There's just so much more moisture going up in the air that the dust storms are few and far between. And the humidity has gone from like 10% or 15% probably to 35%. And the summers have gotten less extreme. When I was a kid, it was not unusual at all for July--from the first of July to the end of July--to be 110 to 115 degrees. I've seen it 117 degrees here. And now, just look at this last summer, we had a few days of 101 or 103. But the climate has mellowed out with the extremes. Like in '48, the Columbia River froze clear across from side to side. You could drive a truck across it. The same year as the big flood. So the extremes have gone away. And instead of the real dips and curves a sinusoidal curve, it's more shallow extremes. But the fact that they now have Meadow Springs, and they have Clipper Ridge, and West Richland, of course, has expanded from a nothing. When I was a kid there was just basically a few people that liked to have farmland lived out there. There was probably as many people living in Yakima as there was in Richland, because they couldn't build houses fast enough. And those that worked in the 100 Areas or the 200 Areas, it was just as close to come in from Yakima as it was to drive from Richland.
Bauman: You talk about a number memories from your childhood, are there any other things, events, or particular memories that really stand out from those early years in Richland?
Rhoades: You had to make your entertainment. And you had to wait in line for everything, including getting a car. Jeez, it must have been '48 before we got a car. And in the Sunday paper there was an ad that said, call a number in Seattle, and get on a list for a Buick. And so my mother did that. And about six months later we got a call and said come pick up your car. We got on a train over in Pasco that just had wood benches in it, and we went over Snoqualmie to Seattle, and got this new '48 Buick, and drove it home over Snoqualmie Pass. People from all over the neighborhood were kind of ogling this car because anybody else that had a car basically were driving some pre-1940 model, because during the '40s they didn't make cars. But that was a vast improvement for us to have our own wheels. But self-made entertainment. When we lived up on McMurray—of course, all these guys that came here from the '30s and '40s, all the entertainment they had as they grew up as kids was self-made also. So playing pool was a big activity. And so my dad bought a pool table over in Pasco, and we had it in the basement. And on the weekend, he and all of his buddies iced down beer and played kelly pool all afternoon, that was the entertainment. And probably that night those same guys, with their wives, had a little potluck at somebody's house and played Bridge. My parents played bridge all the time.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you, then, also about your working at Hanford. Hanford for so long focused on production. You mentioned that production, production. At some point, of course, it shifted to cleanup. I wondered if that shift impacted your work at all?
Rhoades: Well, by the time I left Hanford it was still in a reduced production mode. The writing was on the wall that environmental restoration was the future of Hanford, not production. We fought to keep N Reactor going because it was dual purpose. But especially when they passed the RCRA, or Resource Conservation Recovery Act, that was the first major commitment by the US Government for an environmental cleanup. And they sent that law, or bill, out to all the field offices and asked for the field offices to comment on what effect it would have on their operations. And Dixy Lee Ray was the commissioner at the time. And I must've been a director of safety at the time. So we got together with the contractors and we labored over this. And fortunately, I have a knack of being able to synthesize complicated things into a very concise statement. And when we got through reviewing this, I wrote a letter for the manager of the field office. And it was about this long, and it simply said, this will shut down nuclear pit production for the United States of America. And from that point on it was one lawsuit after another as Congress tried to extend its will on the defense industry. But at the time, like when I was a Rocky Flats, the reason they were so anxious to restart that plant that was the only plant in all of DOE complex that didn't have two--like there was Hanford and Savannah River, there was Los Alamos and Livermore Design Lab. So there was a duality in everything. But when they removed the pit production from Hanford, instead having pit production at Savannah River and Hanford both, they built a new plant at Rocky Flats. And it was the only plant that made pits. And so it was a choke point. And when the FBI and EPA shut that plant down, basically, we had nuclear subs that were out in the ocean with 20 missiles and there was no spear point on the end of the spear. They were not loaded because we were not making pits. So that was why the defense industry was fighting with Congress on the environmental cleanup was because we were not in a good defensible position nuclear-wise during that Cold War years if we had the boomers out in the ocean that didn't have a number of warheads on top of them. And that's why EG&G got the contract because DOE believed that they could restart the plant and start making these pits. So even though the environmental law was saying you should be shifting quickly to environmental restoration at Rocky Flats, the headquarters people over defense programs were telling you under the table, get this plant running. We need these pits for the defense of America. So it was real catch-22 for the management of the Rocky Flats plant. But eventually, it became obvious that they were never going to restart the plant and so everybody shifted into a full environmental restoration mode.
Bauman: During your years working here at Hanford, what would you consider some of the more challenging aspects of your job, the work you were doing here, and maybe some of the most rewarding aspects of your work?
Rhoades: Well, you know--[SIGH] I mean, rewarding is a hard thing to define because that was one of the primary reasons I took early retirement. Let me just use Yucca Mountain as an example. When I hired into the AEC in '67, the United States Government was looking for a repository for nuclear fuel in Lyons, Kansas. So that was '67, and here we are, 2013, and we're no closer to solving that national problem today than we were 40 years ago. So the satisfaction that comes with mission accomplished was always very difficult to achieve. It was more of a case of frustration on my part that the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence. If I was going to go any higher in DOE, I would have to go to Washington, DC. Because I was already an SES and that's as high as you could go without a congressional appointment. But the most challenging thing was that when Alex Fremling came in to be the manager of DOE, he brought a complete new, fresh environmental sensitive outlook to the plant. And so trying to deal with the public interface over leaking tanks—106-T was a big bump in my career. I went from a nobody to a branch chief just with one tank leak. [LAUGHTER] But he was very environmental conscious and he was very safety conscious. And so he ratcheted the whole system up, not just one notch, but numerous notches. Because when they built the nuclear industry, they did not have safety standards for the nuclear industry, because it was a brand new industry. So if you looked at the operation of the uranium side, then they used the safety standards of a steel mill and a blast furnace to do the safety standards for Fernald and these other uranium enrichment places. And if you look at the chemical processing in the canyons, they looked to the petroleum cracking industry for safety standards. And if you look to the waste disposal, which was the operation of the tank farms and the burial grounds, it had the same basic safety standards and the interest as a commercial landfill. And so it wasn't until the nuclear Navy was born and Rickover installed a completely different safety philosophy because he was going to have 200, or 300, or 400 sailor—lives were dependent on everything functioning perfectly. And Alex Fremling was bright enough and young enough to recognize that. And he brought that standard into Hanford. So there was just a real crash program on upgrading the operational procedures for tank farms and other waste disposals. Skin contaminations were accepted as—like a guy working on your car, he accepts the fact that his hands are going to get greasy. But Alex didn't accept that. He said, you know, we're going to have zero accidents. And we're going to have zero skin contaminations. We're going to be open with the public on any of these tank leaks. And the problem was we didn't have, really, the skill to measure how these tanks were doing—whether we're losing material or not losing material. And even though you could measure the depth, the interest of whether it was unacceptable to leak was not there. And the reason for that was that when the first tanks were built, they were built in 12. So there's four rows of three, and the separation process was simply a settling process. So the waste would come into the first tank and fill up, and the solids would drift to the bottom. And then it'd overflow into the second tank, another lighter batch of solids. And then it would flow into the third tank, and more solids would fall out. Then it would flow into the ground. And so if you're putting stuff in the ground for ten or 15 years, and using nine exchange properties of the soil to capture the radionuclides, then what's the big deal about a tank leaking a little extra waste? You've already put a billion gallons of stuff into the soil, what's another 100,000 gallons? So that was the mentality that Alex faced with the contractors when he came to Hanford. I give him credit. He single-handedly changed that. And he took on the challenge to do the very first environmental impact statement on tank waste for the whole agency. He was the guinea pig. He was the front runner, or the blazer, for the DOE on environmental issues. And so I honestly think that Hanford, even though, because of the design of the plants, there was no way to retrofit these plants to not discharge stuff to the soil, but there was a way to monitor it better and be more acutely aware of occurrences that you didn't want to occur. Whether it was stuff leaking on the ground on top of the tank, or whether it was stuff leaking into the ground through the bottom of the tank.
Bauman: So what time period are you talking about here?
Rhoades: This would have been in late '70s up to, probably, '87. And Mike Lawrence came in '87.
Bauman: And it's Alex Fremling?
Rhoades: Yes, Fremling.
Bauman: How do you spell the last name?
Rhoades: F-R-E-M-L-I-N-G.
Bauman: So that's when you noticed a shift definitely taking place?
Rhoades: No question. I was a student of, that instead of resisting these changes, I embraced these changes and I was rewarded for that. But the mentality of the DOE—or it was ERDA at that time, but the mentality of the workers in ERDA were no different than the mentality in the contractors. I mean, we'd been doing it this way for 30 years, why are we changing? He conducted the first operational readiness review probably in the nation for startup nuclear facilities.
Bauman: How were you able to change that mentality I guess into the--
Rhoades: You know what, I'd say, probably, through the award-fee process. It's through the money. When I first got here, contractors had contracts, but there was never any real evaluation of whether they deserved their fee or didn't deserve their fee. So once we instituted an award-fee process in which we itemized the areas for improvement, then quantified A, B, C or D or F, you could then quantify. If they had $10 million fee that's up for grabs for this quarter or this six month period, you could quantify how well they did to meet those goals. So it was very intense and it was a steep learning curve, but it produced results. And we changed contractors, too.
Bauman: Mm-hmm, right. So this was when you would have been in charge of compliance programs?
Rhoades: First, yeah. After I was a branch chief, I was an assistant division director. Basically all of my career was in nuclear operations, especially with the tank farms. And even though I moved over to be the director of safety, and then on to be the system manager for compliance, you were just viewing operations from an independent standpoint. You didn't direct nuclear operations, but you did appraisals, and you did audits, and you did oversight, and you graded a contractor on his performance independent from operations.
Bauman: Was it during your time there, I mean, at some point of course there were a lot of questions raised about the tanks. And in terms of the public, questions about tanks leaking and that sort of thing. Did you have to deal with any of that sort of thing?
Rhoades: Listen, I spent—if I wasn't making presentations to the public or defending our actions to the public, I was doing so in front of Congress. There was constant barrage and it was difficult to communicate because by this time the environmental support groups were springing up to put pressure on DOE to perform and to clean up and to accelerate. And, of course, you control certain things, but you don't control your budget. Congress controls your budget. And so it was difficult at best, and it was contentious. It's constantly contentious because it was like I was speaking in English and they were listening in Greek. We couldn't communicate, because they were just totally upset with what the government had done to end the war. They forgot that what was the end result was stop the war and save millions of lives in the invasion of Japan. And they had forgotten that. And it was just on the bad things that have been done to the environment. And I'd be the first to agree to that--I don't think that in hindsight, if you went back and re-ran it ten times in hindsight, I don't think anything would have changed. Because the same pressure to beat the Germans to the nuclear bomb and the same pressure to end the war in the Pacific would not change. And so you'd only have the capability to do what your technology was advanced enough to do at that time and place.
Bauman: I wonder if there's anything that you haven't talked about, or I haven't asked about yet, either in terms of your years growing up here as a young child, or your father's work, or your work at Hanford, that you'd like to talk about, or think it would be important to talk about.
Rhoades: I would just simply say that I think that the people and the contractors in the government, as well as contractors, have always given 100% to do the right thing. And they don't get much praise. And they are constantly vilified because they're missing milestones and stuff like that. But there is just some extremely technically challenging work to be done out there. It's been a flywheel for this site since 1943, and it's going to continue out probably to 2075. But they'll never clean the site up, and they'll never walk away from it. They'll have some 25-square-mile pad out there that has all kinds of markings on it, don't drill here. But they're making tremendous strides in cleaning up the groundwater and removing the stuff along the river. I never dreamed in my wildest dreams that they could clean up all the burial grounds and trenches along the river and the buildings. Each one of those reactors had the facilities enough to run a small city, and now all that's left is a cube. You could paint dots on it or something like rolling dice across the prairie. But I just think it's been remarkable how much they've cleaned up and how safely they've done it. You don't ever read of anybody getting killed out there, or maimed out there, and they're still using a lot of heavy equipment. The safety standards are extremely high and it’s part of the reward, the carrot in front of the donkey. If you're safe and have a good safety record and you make progress, you get your fee.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you very much—
Rhoades: Sure.
Bauman: --for coming and talking to us today and sharing your memories and experiences. I appreciate it.
Rhoades: Great, thank you very much.
Robert Bauman: Okay. All right. My name's Robert Bauman. And I'm conducting an oral history interview with Mr. Bob Petty. Today is July 10th of 2013, and the interview's being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. And I will be talking with Mr. Petty about his experience working at the Hanford site. So, Mr. Petty, if it's okay with you, I'd start with how and why you came to Hanford, where you came from, and when.
Robert Petty: My mother and father came from Arkansas. My dad came in August of '43, my mother in 1948. And I was born and raised here, born in 1948. And I--well, I'm retired from the Department of Energy. I first started working out here at the age of 11.
Bauman: Okay.
Petty: My father was in transportation. He would put me in the trunk of his car. And since his brother, my uncle, was a security patrolman, would wave me on through, or wave my dad on through. And this went on for several years. And my dad kept me hidden for those two years. And on numerous occasions, kind of a funny type of note, people had hit deer and killed them. Of course, my dad being the back woodsman that he used to be, stopped and put the deer in the car. And one particular time, I was in the trunk with that deer. And I am screaming, I want to go home, I want to go home. Well, we didn't go home. But I was a laborer. Helped build WNP out here for the nuclear plants, and decontamination and decommissioning of numerous reactor facilities. Pump houses, power stations, and things of that nature. There were some good times and some bad times. The controls that what I would expect I don't think were in place. And starting in 1971, we started doing D&D, and I was allowed to go anywhere I wanted, with the exception of in the reactor facility itself. And we did go into some potential hotspots. And at no time were we told to wear a mask or have a dosimeter. And at no time—all I had was just a badge that had Bechtel on it. And so nobody ever told us to--you know, working around the asbestos—of which I have asbestos-related disease—that you need to protect yourself from not only asbestos, but from potential chemicals, maybe radioactive contaminants and things of that nature. And so I eventually went to work for the Department of Energy in 1990? '91? '91. And I retired as a management analyst due to my health. And then shortly thereafter, I went to work as a senior technical advisor for CH2M Hill.
Bauman: I'm going to ask you to go back a little bit-
Petty: Sure.
Bauman: And go back to the stories first of as an 11-year-old, your dad taking you out to the site. So he was in transportation?
Petty: Yes.
Bauman: And do you know--so he came during the war, correct?
Petty: Mm-hm.
Bauman: How did he—from Arkansas. Do you know he heard about Hanford--?
Petty: Well he--my dad originally was in the Civilian Conservation Corps in central Arkansas. And he had heard about this place out in the desert. And when he got here, I do remember him telling me--he passed away in '82, that, oh my god, what have I got myself into. It is hot. There are windstorms that you just couldn't believe how bad they were. And so he came up here. My mother and father were married at the time. And my mother did come out several times, and then went back home, and eventually settled out here later. And so he was a truck driver, then a bus driver. And then after my mother moved out here, she worked out here from '48 to I think about 1950, working next to a hot box. And she became contaminated. And she eventually died of lung cancer, bone cancer, skin cancer, and multiple myeloma. But when she was contaminated, she was pregnant with me. And I am involved in litigation over this. But trying to prove something is not easy.
Bauman: Where was she working at the time?
Petty: She was working in the 3--I think the 300 Area. I don't remember which building it was. I am not positive the location, but I think it was there.
Bauman: And what was her job?
Petty: I really don't know. No, I couldn't say that for sure. My mom has been dead for a number of years. And so there's a lot of questions you don't get to ask that you would like to have asked.
Bauman: And you were born in '48?
Petty: Yes, November of '48.
Bauman: And did you have other siblings?
Petty: Yes, I have three sisters. Four sisters, one is gone. So I have three remaining sisters. And one now works at Oak Ridge, and I have two that live—one in Pasco, one in Kennewick.
Bauman: And when your dad first came to work here, he came basically by himself? Your mom would come visit sort of, and then--
Petty: Yes, yes.
Bauman: And did they have any kids at that point, or it was just the two of them?
Petty: No, no. My oldest sister wasn't born until June of 1944. But my mother had went back home, then came back numerous times.
Bauman: When your mom was working here, and you said she had symptoms of being exposed, did she know what she was working with at the time, do you know?
Petty: Not really. And now there are procedures in place where if a woman is pregnant or think they may be pregnant, they're not allowed to go in any potential hotspots. That was not the case back then.
Bauman: So your father would basically sort of smuggle you, I guess you could say, into the site?
Petty: Lack of a better word, yes.
Bauman: With the help of your uncle.
Petty: Yes.
Bauman: So what would you do when he got to work with you, then? What did you do during--
Petty: My dad originally started out as a house mover. And one of my particular jobs was I'd get underneath the house and cut the piping loose, take all the asbestos off of the piping, snakes, cats, dogs, dead or alive, indifferent. And odd jobs around that he thought I could do, and so—oh yeah.
Bauman: So what houses were you moving?
Petty: Back in those days, most of them were structural wood buildings from the Hanford site to whoever wanted to buy them.
Bauman: So houses that were on the Hanford site, had been there prior to the war? Some of the older houses?
Petty: There may have been several, but most of them were either on-site or from Camp Hanford.
Bauman: Oh, okay. And so his job was to move those off.
Petty: Right, correct.
Bauman: You crawled under—
Petty: And there are many, many of those still around today.
Bauman: And so how long did you do that?
Petty: Up until after my dad passed away 1982, I decided to sell the remaining equipment and what we had. I didn't want anything to do with that portion of the business. And so from then, I started going back to school. And I have numerous college degrees. And so eventually I went to work for the Department of Energy.
Bauman: So when you were 11 and 12 and out onsite helping your dad, were there other workers there who knew you were there?
Petty: My dad tried to keep me isolated. There were the people around, and they knew what was going on. But they didn't say anything. And there was kind of some camaraderie—you scratch my back, I'll scratch your back. And so they didn't say anything.
Bauman: So you were born in '48. Did your family live in Richland, then?
Petty: Yes. Originally came to Pasco, lived in Sunnyside, then shortly moved on to Richland.
Bauman: And where in Richland did you live in the '40s and '50s?
Petty: I think it was 1311 Marshall.
Bauman: And what was Richland like at the time as a sort of place to grow up?
Petty: Richland, since August of '43 through December of 1958 I think it was, was a government town. And they came in and said, you're going to do what we tell you to do. And since this is a government town, secrecy was of utmost importance. And I didn't remember a whole lot about that per se. But I do remember numerous times where we had to duck and cover in grade school. And we had drills and things of that nature. But on the whole, I do remember Richland being very hot, maybe because there were hardly any trees. And there was so much construction going on around Richland, new homes being built.
Bauman: My sense is that people, workers, families, came from a lot of different places. Was that sort of true? Did you experience that the families that you knew, friends growing up, that they had come from all over the United States?
Petty: My dad did tell me when he first came out here there were people from all over the nation, just about every state in the union. And the men stayed in the men's barracks and the women stayed in the women's barracks even though they may have been married, until their name came up for a house. And times like that were very tough on my mother and father. And I do remember meeting numerous people when I was young telling me that they were from maybe New York or Connecticut or something like that. Yeah.
Bauman: And when you were growing up, do you remember any special community events, parades, any of those sorts of things in Richland? Frontier days?
Petty: I do have pictures of parades. And I have a book from Richland--or Hanford, Hanford Days, Richland Days, I think it is. And it shows parades in there also. And I do have several pictures of parades that we had here in town. And so those were good times. Played Little League baseball, we formed a baseball team and didn't do very well. But on the whole, I think pretty much the only thing we did was--well in summertime—was go swimming. They had a small pool in Howard Amon. But for the most part, we didn't do very much.
Bauman: Okay, let's talk more about the work you did at Hanford. When did you start working at Hanford? Not with your father, but--
Petty: I first started in earnest--I became a laborer in the local laborers here in town. And went to work at FFTF back around '70, the early '70s. And some things that went on, I won't say on camera, because they're not very nice. And when FFTF was first started, it was projected to be about $79 million in costs. And that particular job, being a cost plus contract, ended up being almost $800 million, which you see today, in fact. And my job was just basically a laborer. A broom, shovel, hammer.
Bauman: During construction--?
Petty: Yeah. And it was not uncommon at all to have six or eight laborers on a one-man job. That was very common.
Bauman: And that was--you were working for what contractors?
Petty: Working for Bechtel, Chicago Bridge & Iron. Yes. I think Mellon brothers.
Bauman: And that was in the early 1970s.
Petty: Yes.
Bauman: And then earlier, you had mentioned going places--you said you were allowed to go sort of anywhere, no dosimeter. Could you talk a little bit more about that, like what sorts of places you were talking about?
Petty: A lot of the buildings that you see--or have seen in the past, you'll see pictures of them, many times there was as much below ground as there is above ground, like in the water treatment facility, for instance. We would go down below ground and take out all the scrap iron and stuff like that, all the wiring, all the piping. There were wells, numerous wells around those sites that we went in. And they had a thick brass shaft. We would go down into the well and cut that off and scrap the brass out. And there were numerous of those around.
Bauman: And this was sort of all over different places on the site?
Petty: Yes, yes. And so subsequently, the--I was young, but--and then when I became a laborer, and we pretty much just had the free run of all the facilities, with the exception of the reactor itself. And at no time did I ever think I was in danger. I was born here, lived here, raised here, and worked here. I have no problems going out there today.
Bauman: Now I know, especially during the war and early Cold War years, security obviously was very tight. You had to ride in the trunk of your dad's car to get through. When you were actually a laborer, was there still a lot of security? Did you have to have any special clearances, anything along those lines?
Petty: There was security, but since my dad was a private contractor, no. Although you had to go through a checkpoint—several checkpoints in fact, entering and leaving. And they would check your vehicle for maybe any contraband, drugs, weapons, or alcohol. And if your car did not have a sticker on it, it had to be searched. But since my dad at times had special privileges, was not. And so here's a little story that—I put myself through school. And I was working weekends, but working full-time here. And I gave a tour to a group of senior citizens from Boston. And I got everybody on the bus, and a little old lady with a cane sat up next to me and we got to talking. And she says oh goody, I want you to take me out and show me where the cowboys can shoot the Indians. And she actually believed that they did that today out here. And she asked me what kind of work I did. And I says, well, this is a former nuclear weapons plant. Well, what do they do out here? Well I said, they made plutonium production for nuclear weapons. And she got up and moved to the back to the bus. And that paradigm has not changed in many people's minds. And so they still have a perception of if they get anywhere near here, they may become contaminated. Potentially, maybe yes. But highly unlikely. Highly unlikely. And so I had the perception when I worked out there I'm not going to get contaminated, or I'm not going to get sick or something like that. Well, I was wrong. But I have no compunction about going in places like that.
Bauman: So you worked for Bechtel. And then in '91 you moved to DOE? Is that right?
Petty: Yes.
Bauman: Okay. And what sorts of work did you do there?
Petty: I started in procurement, since I have a procurement degree, working contracts. And after three years there, I moved to the different side of the house. Worked on environmental safety and health as a management analyst. And I was more of a technical person, wrote, maybe, technical reports, read them, made recommendations to the assistant manager, who was the boss of my director. And although I have numerous college degrees, I am not a scientist or anything like that. I'm more of basically just a paper pusher.
Bauman: When you were working out at the site, were there ever any sort of events that stand out in your mind or things that happened? Fires, or anything--incidents like that, I guess.
Petty: I was involved in a very serious accident in which my dad was demolishing and standing too close to a building. And I don't know if you've seen a very, very old silent movie where a silent film screen star was standing in a building and the entire wall just came over on top of him. But he was standing in the doorway, and it missed him. And that's what happened to me. The entire wall came down, and I was standing right in the doorway, and it missed me with the exception of one of the beams had come down and caught me on the head. And I have permanent damage as a result of that. There was a very large fire here which I think covered about 240,000 acres at one time. On national news, people had the perception of this is going to be the end of the Tri-Cities if something goes wrong. Well, nothing was going to go wrong. And there are too many protections in place, and these buildings are too well-fortified to have anything escape.
Bauman: The incident where the wall fell down around you, how old were you at the time of that event?
Petty: I was about 15--16, something like that, yeah. Child labor laws weren't very stringent then. And so I think people got away with a lot more than they should have. Not only with work environment, but it's also--if I can put this very delicately--men living in men's barracks and my mom living in the women's barracks, and there was a barbed wire fence separating them. And my dad told me that the only way that they had relations was through a barbed wire fence. And during the day, they didn't see each other very often. But they would go to dances, and maybe occasionally a vacation. But I don't remember any of those.
Petty: Did your dad have any other stories about his time here before your mom was here permanently?
Bauman: You know, I remember when my mom came up--well, she went back home numerous times in the '50s. And everything she cooked was fried. Fried everything. And she would take the grease and make into gravy, and I thought that was the best food in the world. But now my veins kind of cringe. And that was the way—predominantly, I think, a lot of the diet that people had back then. But I do remember catching several rattlesnakes out here when I was young, at a young age. Which—I don't remember playing with them, I do remember catching them. And I would just let them go.
Bauman: President Kennedy visited the Hanford site in 1963.
Petty: Correct.
Bauman: The NPR. I wonder if--you would have been 15 at the time, roughly?
Petty: Yes, I was 15 at the time. At the time I seen him, he was maybe 40 feet away. And of course my mom thought he was the best-looking man she'd ever seen. And I thought it a very, very interesting, very cool, you know, I get to see the President of the United States. Which he wasn't the first--or he was the first, but he was not the last. But overall, I thought John Kennedy was very, very likable.
Bauman: What else do you remember about that day or him being here at the time?
Petty: When he first arrived, I looked out there and I'd seen a mass of people. And I do remember first thinking, all these people can't be here for the president. But they were. And I really didn't grasp the ramifications of maybe his political influence being the president. And I really wasn't interested in that type of thing when I was growing up. And it kind of dawned on me that this is important. He's a very important man, one of the most important men in the world. And so that had kind of a profound effect on me, and I eventually went into--took government courses in school.
Bauman: Any other times when you were working there at Hanford that you remember dignitaries coming, or other presidents or anything like that?
Petty: We were working on-site one particular day. And somebody was using a cutting torch, and we had started a fire. It was during the summertime. And tremendous amount of cheatgrass around. And I do remember we had started a fire, and it got out of control very quickly. And I thought the building that we were working on was done. But luckily, we got the fire department there in time. And it had consumed several acres and a portion of the building that we were working on, but we ended up saving it. A little scary.
Bauman: About when would that have been, roughly?
Petty: '72. Yeah.
Bauman: And what area of the site might that have been?
Petty: That was 200 West, I think. Yes.
Bauman: Overall, how would you describe Hanford as a place to work?
Petty: In the '40s, '50s, '60s, there was a mindset that it was just a job. And even when I worked out here in the '70s and '80s, I felt it was just a job. And then when I went to work for the Department of Energy, the mission had changed from nuclear production to cleanup. And so to kind of put it in perspective, my grandfather worked out here, my dad worked out here, his brother—in fact all his brothers, all his sisters, all their kids, my sisters. And people have the perception of, well, I'm from here. All my relatives worked out here. Well, you owe me this job. Well, that's not true. And when I worked at DOE, the manager came in one day and we had an all-employees meeting. And he said, all you employees are very well-educated, make very good money, have numerous college degrees. We do not owe you a job. And that's true. And I feel that's the same way here at Hanford. We do not owe them a job. Most of those people are very well-educated. And so in the next 20 years, things are going to be ramping down, probably more so than they are now. And today's paper said that one firm here in town was going to be reducing their staff by 90%. And I think people need to become aware well, the well is going to run dry. It was good while it lasted. And I made very good money here. And I knew my time wasn't going to be here forever. But people I think need to change their paradigms, and I certainly changed mine. And we had some very, very good times out here, and a few bad. And since we have changed to environmental cleanup, everything we do is scrutinized. And from if you spill a quart of gasoline or paint, it has to be written up and you have to make a report. Just to give you an idea of--very, very stringent.
Bauman: When did you notice that change? Was it when it shifted from production to cleanup more, or was it--?
Petty: I think I first started to know the change about 1988, I think it was, when they first--what happened at Chernobyl. I think that was a major turning point. And then they seen the similarities between Chernobyl versus the N Reactor. Although I don't think that could have happened at the N Reactor. And I think from that point on, from the point they shut it down here at the N Reactor, they started to focus more on environmental cleanup.
Bauman: I want to go back a little bit and ask you a little bit more. One of your first jobs was working FFTF?
Petty: Mm-hm.
Bauman: That became somewhat of a controversial facility, to a certain extent.
Petty: Very much so. Not so much--well, it was a cost plus contract. Not so much during the construction and operation. In the initial operation it actually was never really used. There wasn't a whole lot of controversy. But the controversy came later when the government wanted to shut it down. And that's a tremendous amount of money just to let loose of. And it could have done a lot of good. But the government finally decided that it would be best if they shut it down. And a great number of people think it was political, which it may have been. I don't know. Although I'm going to keep my thoughts to myself, and I'm not going to say anything about that. Although when they did shut it down, I do remember doing a number of correspondence with different people from Washington, DC, here at the Hanford site and at DOE here regarding to the FFTF.
Bauman: I wonder for--you said things have changed, obviously, at Hanford site over the years. And I wonder for future generations, people 20 years from now or 50 years from now, what would you like them to know about working at the Hanford site, what it was like?
Petty: Well going back to 1943 when the site was first picked, this isn't something they had ever done before. And their number-one priority, number-one goal, was to end the war. And now their number-one priority is to clean up this mess. This isn't something they'd ever done before, either. This is the largest cleanup project in the world. And subsequently, I think that a lot of this new areas that they're going into is how do they clean up these certain types of chemicals or radiation or contamination. And there's so many things that they don't know and they don't know how to treat. They've never done it before, like the Vitrification plant. This is never something that they've done before. And they say it's going to work, take this liquid sludge and turn it into glass logs. It'll probably work, yes. But it's not something they've ever done before, and I think generations down the road need to realize that we cannot stop plutonium production. There are many, many environmental groups out there, but other countries in the world, all over the world, are now getting nuclear weapons power plants, the potential to produce nuclear weapons. It is not going to stop. And if we stop producing plutonium, uranium, for weapons, nuclear power plants for nuclear or electricity production, then if we're not moving ahead, then we're falling behind. And we are falling behind now, at least in my estimation. And so I think we need to change the paradigms of our youth that this can be a good thing, or it can be a bad thing. And if we make it safe enough, with the controls in place, there should be no problems.
Bauman: Is there anything that I haven't asked you about that you think would be important to talk about, or any other memories from your experiences working here that you--
Petty: No.
Bauman: --want to share?
Petty: Have you been on-site before?
Bauman: Yes.
Petty: Okay, so you kind of understand what's going on out there and the history portion. I do hope that the B Reactor museum comes to fruition, because I think we need to leave a legacy for our children and our grandchildren and generations farther down. And I think it's extremely important not to forget that, but also be respectful and mindful of what we did and hopefully never, never, ever again.
Bauman: Well thank you very much for--
Petty: Sure.
Bauman: --coming in and talking to us today. We really appreciate it. Thanks a lot.
Northwest Public Television | Peters_Leonard
Leonard Peters: Leonard Peters. L-E-O-N-A-R-D P-E-T-E-R-S.
Arata: Thank you. My name's Laura Arata. It's November 19th--already--2013, and we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So I wonder if we could start, if you could tell us a little bit about how your family came to Hanford and where you were from.
Peters: I was born in Denver in August of '43. My father came out in June or July of '43 from Denver. And so my mom, myself, and my brother were there in Denver, and when I was two months old we came out with another family, the Carl Eckert family. And it was my mom, Mrs. Eckert, their daughter--who was about my age--and my brothers. So five of us came out in a car in October of '43. And my dad was working out here. And so that's how we came out, was in an old car.
Arata: And what was your father doing at Hanford?
Peters: He was a truck driver. He drove for Remington Arms in Denver, who was DuPont, and he also worked for Bechtel up in Alaska. And he came down and went back to Denver and was driving, heard about this place. And if you'd like a very interesting story--
Arata: Always.
Peters: He was driving for an Army officer. A colonel or something, I'm not sure. Kind of a--I'll say chauffeur, but it wasn't really a chauffeur. But my dad had heard about this place. And he asked his--I'll say colonel--about it. And very few people knew about it. But this colonel says, well, I can't tell you anything about it, but if you've heard of heavy water, it has something to do with heavy water. Of course my dad, heavy water didn't mean anything to him. But you know, hindsight. It's kind of interesting to me this colonel knew a little bit about what was going on here. As big a secret as it was, not that many people knew. But he had some idea of what was going on. I found that very interesting.
Arata: Yeah. And how long did your father work at the Hanford site?
Peters: From '43 until he retired in '73.
Arata: Okay, well, we'll come back to that. I want to ask you just a few questions about the area. Obviously you were very, very young—
Peters: I'm sorry. He passed away in '73. He retired in '67.
Arata: Okay. I'll have more questions for you. [LAUGHTER] Do you remember, growing up, what sort of housing you lived in, what the situation was like?
Peters: My first memory was an A house, 1520 Thayer. We moved in there about 1945. So that's my first memory, though we lived many places before that, as my dad's Q clearance bears out. But my memory goes back to the A house in 1945.
Arata: Did you live there for quite a while?
Peters: Lived there until around '56, '57.
Arata: And could you describe that house a little bit, for anyone who doesn't know what an A house is?
Peters: An A house is a duplex, two-story. You have neighbors literally right next door to you. It was a three-bedroom, all upstairs. And of course back then there was no air conditioning, and it would get hot in the summertime. I can literally remember summers, 109 to 110, 112 degrees. And the only air conditioning was a swamp cooler. So it was pretty miserable, but yet you didn't think about it because that's just the way it was. The government literally furnished everything, from throw rugs to table, chairs. I mean literally everything. Coal. We had a coal-burning furnace, and like once a month or so on, they would deliver coal. And you had to make sure there was a coal bin that had slats in it, and you had to make sure that the slats were in, because if you forgot to put the slats in you'd have coal all over the basement floor. And so that was kind of interesting. My dad, every morning, would have to get up and stoke the fire and get it going in wintertime, because we used to have some pretty bad winters compared to today. And so that was, again, just part of living in this area. Dust storms. You've heard of the termination winds. The wind would blow and the curtains would go back and forth and just wave in the breeze, with all the windows closed. And you'd have a quarter of an inch of dust on the windowsills and everything. But there again, that's just the way it was. I can remember one story--my wife tells that when her mother came out with her and her brother, met at the train station, and the father was there to pick them up. There was a windstorm right then. And her first words were "Sherman, get me a ticket back home." And they ended up dying here, and buried here. And I know my dad, he swore he would never—he wanted to go back to Colorado, but again, he was buried here and lived here all the rest of his life. But what else can I say on the government? Everything—you know, I've heard of people—we never did do it, but people get tired of a chair or something, they'd break it, call housing. They would need another chair, and they'd come out and replace the chair. And if you had—back then they had fuses, as opposed to breakers. Blow a fuse, call housing, they'd send an electrician out to change the fuse for you. I mean, it was pretty amazing, really. And it was good quality furniture.
Arata: Cool. So I'm wondering if you could talk a little bit about growing up in Richland in the '40s and '50s, sort of what the community was like at that time?
Peters: It was a fairly small town, of course. I think--and this is just my memory--it was about probably maybe 23,000 people, was all. Something like that. And it was truly a Leave It to Beaver era. People laugh at that, but that's exactly what it was, because if you stop and think about it--in order to live in Richland, you had to work out in the area. In order to work out in the area, you needed clearance. And it was not unusual to have someone knock at the door and be an FBI agent investigating someone or something. I mean, it was very controlled. And so there was no crime to speak of. Nickel and dime stuff. But there was one murder, in all those years. They never did find the killer. But no, we'd play out all night and folks wouldn't think a thing about it. That’s just the way it was. And in the summertime, like I said, as hot as it was, all the windows and doors would be wide open and wouldn't think a thing about it. And people kind of knew one another. Not that you knew everybody, but that small a town and everyone working out there. Everyone rode the bus, so there was a camaraderie with not only where you worked but also on the buses. And people I think really did try and watch out for one another. But no, growing up, it was great. One kind of fun story. We used to hooky-bob. You know what that is?
Arata: I don't.
Peters: Okay, what we'd do in the wintertime when the roads were snowy and icy. You'd hide behind a bush, and as a car went by, you ran out and grabbed the bumper and had them drag you around. And that was a lot of fun. That was one of the winter sports. But it was kind of interesting. I can remember, newspaper front page showed a bus with a glove on it. The story was, it was a hooky-bobber and his hand was wet and it froze to the bumper, and--make a long story short, it was on the dangers of hooky-bobbing. But it just happens that the guy that that glove belonged to graduated a couple years ahead of me. Name was Jim Crum, who is now an attorney for the US government. But no, it was a fun time. I mean, Friday night shows was wall-to-wall kids. Very seldom was there a fight or anything. We'd hang out at the Spudnut Shop, or there was another place called Tim's. Someone that had a car would drive around the Uptown area about 30 times, just looking for gals or whatever. I mean, it was an American Graffiti time. Have you seen American Graffiti?
Arata: Yes, sir.
Peters: You see that, and every person in there--Hey, that was so-and-so; that was so-and-so. I mean, it was so accurate to our high school days. It was a good time to grow up. Wintertime, of course, we had Christmas tree forts, and if there was snow on the ground we'd have snow forts and choose up sides and have snowball fights hiding behind our snow forts. We would, if there was no snow--or even if there was snow after Christmas--build Christmas tree forts. Stack them up and have a roof on it, even sleep out in it. But if a neighbor down the street--you know, if they had a Christmas tree fort, about one or two in the morning we'd sneak down and steal all their trees. And we'd have a bigger fort then. We would sleep out a lot in the summertime, because it was hot. I can remember we would sleep out maybe 10 o'clock at night or so. There were still orchards, cherry orchards in town. Up on Van Giesen. We lived just around the corner on Thayer. We'd get up, go down there and steal cherries. We'd steal quite a few cherries. Then the next day we'd sell them house to house. What else was there? The buses were a big part. The buses were fun, because there was two groups. They were both run by the government, but there was what they called the city local, which took people from point A to point B as far as downtown and uptown, different places. Then there was the outer area buses that took workers to work and brought them home. But there was two different--not bus companies, but groups of drivers that drove for each group. But not only hooky-bobbing, but it was always fun to--as buses passed--snowball them, and throw snowballs at them. Just fun things.
Arata: Some good winter sports.
Peters: Yeah.
Arata: Could you talk a little bit more about these--you mentioned Friday night shows, and also the Spudnut Shop. Could you describe those a little bit?
Peters: I mean, everyone went to them. All the kids went to them. And you know, you're talking the '50s, where rock and roll was just coming in. I wrote a piece one time on--I really think that we were born at a nice time, because we can remember big bands, we can remember that type of music and how rock and roll came in. And of course parents didn't like rock and roll at all. It was evil, and all this. But a lot of the movies, some of the movies, had rock and roll stars. I can remember people dancing in the aisles while the movie was on. Things like that. I can remember one gal was dancing what they used to call a dirty bop. They ended up kicking her out. [LAUGHTER] But no, there was dancing and hooting and hollering. Before the Uptown Theater opened was the Village Theater. And that was when we were younger, but that's when they showed the serials, whether it be Superman or Whip Wilson or whomever. But every Saturday we'd go to the show. There'd be a cartoon as well as one or two double feature. That's back--we were young, but a fun thing then, I guess, was to have your popcorn boxes. They were boxes at the time. You'd flatten them and throw them and make a shadow on the screen. That was the big deal. But the Village Theater was so strange because it was all kids, basically. Because the Richland Theater, which is now The Players, was more the adults. The Village Theater was for little kids. But you would walk down the aisles, and was a kind of carpeting, and you'd stick, stick, stick, stick. I don't think they ever cleaned it. Pop spilled on it, candy bars, and everything else. That was fun. Then they did build the Uptown Theater, and that was more adult movies. But on Friday night, it was lot of science fiction. That's where you saw Frankenstein, Dracula, The Wolfman, and all that. Then the midnight shows had really neat--they'd have a midnight show, and we wouldn't get home until three in the morning, but no big deal. You'd walk home. No big deal. I don't know if you can do it today, but there'd be half a dozen of your friends walking home with you, just having a good time. But the Friday night shows--I started smoking quite early. I don't smoke now. But I can remember, for mowing the lawn and peeling the taters and things that, I’d get $1 a week allowance. And with that dollar I could buy a pack of cigarettes, which would last me a week, get into the show, and have like a dime left over. So I mean, a dollar, I was in fat city.
Arata: Do you remember how much a movie cost, about that time?
Peters: First ones I can remember was $0.11 or $0.12, and then it went to $0.20. And I think during my high school days, if I remember right, it was probably $0.35, something like that. I'm not sure.
Arata: All right. I'm fascinated by the Spudnut Shop and Tim's. Can you describe those a little?
Peters: Well, Tim's was where Dr. Chavla placed his--it's kind of caddy-cornered from the graveyard, the old graveyard. And it was a nice place. A fireplace in it and everything. That's where the kids hung out. And it wasn't really a pizza parlor, but it was kind of a pizza parlor sandwich place. It was our high school days, and it closed, I'm not sure exactly when, but became Einan's Funeral Home. It went from the restaurant to Einan's Funeral Home. And then Einan's, of course, moved out on the bypass. But the Spudnut shop, it's bigger now than it was. It used to just be just a few booths. But I can remember Spudnuts were, let's say, $0.10. And for a Spudnut ala mode--that was a Spudnut with soft ice cream on it--that was $0.15. And if you had $0.15 for that, you was in pretty good shape, because we didn't have money like that. And there was another place just two doors down from that that was the Fission Chips. But it was interesting the way they spelled fission. It was fission, like nuclear. It was Fission Chips. You can see some old pictures of the Spudnut shop, and just a couple doors down, you'll see the Fission Chips. But we'd hang out in the Spudnut Shop before the movie, and then maybe go there after the movie. And that's just where everyone hung out. When we had a car later, more in our high school years, we hung out at a place called Skip's. It was where Les Schwab is now. That was kind of the hangout there. I don't know if you want this on there. It's not very nice. But Skip's, there was a young girl worked there with a cleft palate. One the guys that we kind of ran with, he had a cleft palate also. He was about three years older than me. But he pulled in there, him and friends, and she said in her cleft palate way, ,ay I help you? He said yeah, give me a such and such. And she got mad, you don't have to make fun of me! Because she though he was just making fun of her. Kind of a sad story, but kind of humorous also. The movies was a big part of life. Of course, swimming. We used to swim in the Yakima a lot. And the old pool, what we used to call the big pool, down in what's now Howard Amon Park—it used to be Riverside Park--there was a swimming pool there. And the flood of '48, '47-'48, it flooded the park. And so they done away with that pool and built the present one. That flood was quite a deal. I can remember going--the bridge was out--going out of Richland, and they had a pontoon bridge. And that causeway wasn't there then. It was just flat. But I thought that was so neat. We was going across the bridge, and you see pontoons all the way across it with lumber to drive on. And that always impressed me. Down around Gowen and things, I can remember the basements flooded from that flood. And it was quite a flood. That's when they built the dam or dike around Richland and Kennewick and so on. The—I was thinking of something else, and lost it. But no, the flood was quite an event. I worked with a guy named Ralph Schafer, who had a private pilot's license, and they hired him as a bus driver. But they let him go from bus driving long enough, because the only way to the airport at the time was to fly from Richland to Pasco. So they hired him to ferry people to the Pasco airport in his private plane, because basically there was no way out of Richland, until they put that pontoon bridge in.
Arata: I wonder if you could talk about--obviously you went through school here. Do you have any memories--there were also some residents that were here prior to 1943, that were still in school here, that were moved off of their family lands. Did you go to school with anybody who had memories of that, that you recall?
Peters: Not to my knowledge. You hear all kinds of stories and things that I don't know. I know I've heard that one family--or some people, I'll say--when they were, quote, kicked out of White Bluffs Hanford area, they moved to Prosser, Sunnyside, somewhere up there, and swore they'd never set foot in Richland. And whether that's true or not, I don't know. But I know there's hard feelings over it, rightfully so. But no, I don't know of anyone. I know we had a lot of construction workers in trailer parks in north Richland. There was a big trailer park, and they had an elementary school out there, John Ball. And once they got all the houses built that they were going to build, I guess, they closed the trailer park and closed John Ball and had them all into town. But I can remember living on Thayer, going to school at Old Sacky—Sacajawea, the Old Sacky--that for some reason, for two-three days they sent me to Spalding. I had to walk to school, which was maybe three, four blocks, five blocks. I can remember big piles of dirt, having to climb over them to get to school. And the reason for that was they were building the ranch houses at that time. So I was probably first grade, I'm guessing. So they were still building in the late '40s, early '50s. In fact, Bauer Days and the Richland Village came later, after the letter houses. But school--no, I honestly can't remember any kids there.
Arata: No problem. We're here to get your memories, so. A bunch of other things I want to ask you. One thing, you said your father worked in Hanford until '67.
Peters: He retired.
Arata: He retired in '67. So he was working in the area when President Kennedy came, in 1963. Do you have any memories of that event?
Peters: No. I was in the Navy then, so no. I know my wife said that she went out to see him. And there were so many people you could hardly see him, but she went out to it. But no, I got out of the Navy in October, '63. I was on a train back to Denver to visit relatives. It's kind of sad. I was sitting in the club car playing cards with strangers, and the porter came in--a black fella--says, [EMOTIONAL] the President's been shot. And we all--aww, go on, he's pulling our leg, he's joking. Then I says, you don't joke about something like that. We were somewhere around Wyoming on the train, and then they was able to get a radio station over the PA or whatever it was. Sure enough, a little bit later--that he had died. And that's how I learned of it. I'll never forget that train ride. Got to Denver, and it was just strange.
Arata: Of course. And we're right on the anniversary of it now.
Peters: Yeah. Yeah. But my dad, I don't know if he went to see him or not. I mean, he was a dyed-in-the-wool Democrat. He came out of the Depression. He was born in '03, so he'd been through a lot. I can remember him saying that he'd vote for a yellow dog before he'd vote for a Republican. He was the old Democrat. But he did vote for one Republican. That was John Dam, who was running for county commissioner. They were personal friends. He said that's the only Republican he'd ever voted for.
Arata: One exception.
Peters: Yeah.
Arata: So did you work at Hanford at all?
Peters: Yeah.
Arata: You did. So could you start filling us in on that a little?
Peters: I worked 40 years out there. Hired on '65. And luckily my dad was still working, so we overlapped. We were both drivers. And I started out as a laborer, though they called them servicemen--basically a laborer. And I got set up to bus driver. And in '61, had a layoff. And I could have stayed, but I thought, man, let's see what else is out there. And I went and worked for Battelle. I was with Battelle for about 13 years in inhalation toxicology. Long-term study. Plutonium, curium, americium studies on dogs. And in about '84 I quit Battelle and went back to transportation, because money. You know that all your college folks know that biology is not real high-paying, unless you're a PhD or something. But a BS in biology's not much. But no, I really enjoyed that. In fact, when McCluskey's glove box blew up, about 200 Areas were exposed to--I forget if it was curium or americium, but there hadn't been a lot of studies on those. And like I said, I was working in inhalation toxicology, and we got two or three big contracts right after that to study the health effects of curium and americium through inhalation. He was an amazing man, because I worked with PhDs. Immunologists, veterinaries, hematologists. You name it, we had the discipline there. Pathologists. And they didn't give him six months to live, with what he got. And he ended up living probably 20 years or better. It is quite an amazing story. You can go on the internet and look up Atomic Man, and his story's in there.
Arata: We actually interviewed the gentleman who was in charge of the cleanup, cleaning up his hospital room.
Peters: Yeah. I don't know if it was this guy I worked with, what we called a radiation monitor. Now they're HPTs or something. But he was with him, scrubbing him and things. His name was Larry Belt. He'd be a good interview for you. I worked with Larry for a number of years. He was our radiation monitor when we exposed dogs and so on. But he said, you can't believe the pain this man was in. He said, we had to literally scrub him with brushes, because he had stuff embedded in his face and so on. Terrible. He says, submerge him and scrub him. No, Larry Belt could tell some stories about it. But back to my job. I quit Battelle for financial reasons and went back to driving. Drove a bus for a lot of years. They shut the bus system down, and I went and worked driving a truck, and drove ERDF trucks hauling the solid waste from out around the river and so on. Did that for a number of years and retired. I taught HAZMAT classes for the last about ten years. But buses were the fun job. A lot of stories there. One of our drivers named Carl Adcock was driving down Delafield, taking the day shift home--so it was about four or five in the afternoon—and a little girl was standing out in the middle of the street playing. About five, six years old. Stopped his bus, pulled the brake, got out and spanked her butt, get out of here! Got back in the bus, and the passengers were just--what are you doing? You could get in trouble for that. And it was his daughter. But no, we've had people have epileptic seizures on the bus. And there's all sorts of things like that. A lot of stories.
Arata: You must see a little bit of everything.
Peters: Oh, yeah. We had poker games, bridge games, on the buses. They had cardboard tables. Four people would sit down, put their table between the aisles and play cards. They had a bridge game going from 100F, which was where the animals were before they built 300—the animal life sciences 300 Area--but they had a bridge game that was going steady for at least 30, 35 years. I mean, it was different people. You know, someone would retire, someone else would take their place. But it started out at 100F at lunch break and then on the bus, and it continued. When we were at 300 they were still playing. Again, it was different players, but it was the same game.
Arata: Wow. There's something I wanted to ask you about. Returning back to when you worked in inhalation toxicology at Battelle, did you work with the smoking beagles?
Peters: Yes. That was my first job, was smoking.
Arata: We just interviewed Vanis Daniels--
Peters: Oh, yeah. I know Vanis.
Arata: --last week, who worked with the smoking beagles. Can you describe for us the process of getting the beagles to smoke two packs a day?
Peters: Well, the hard part's lighting 'em. No, the reason for the study, as I understood it, was uranium miners were dying early, and they wanted to know why. Because it could be cigarette smoke--because most of them were smokers--uranium ore dust or it could be radon daughters. And so we had a group of--I forget now. 70 dogs, 60. Something like that. And 10 of would receive smoke only, cigarette smoke only. They had a table, kind of a horseshoe. The mask fit over their muzzle with a cigarette in there, and like every seventh or tenth breath, a little gadget would open and their breath would suck in the smoke. But then ten of them would receive uranium ore dust and radon daughters. There was a large chamber that held ten dogs around it, and up in the top there was a grinder thing that would grind the ore dust and sprinkle it down in. I mean, it wasn't noticeable, it wasn't thick, but it was in there. And then we had radon. I think it was water bubbled through it that would give the radon gas, and it would get into the chamber. And then we had another ten that would receive cigarette and the radon. And then a control group that didn't receive anything. They were called sham. You'd bring them in, go through all the same routine, but they wouldn't receive anything. And just see what the effects were. And it was a lifespan study, so you'd look at the dosage and how long they lived and what affected them the most. So that's basically what it was. One story I heard--probably true--was that the Russians said that our limits were too high, should be lower. So that maybe prompted it, I don't know. Then after that when we got to 300 Area, 100-F moved into 300 Area, and they closed 100-F down. And then they had a group of just smoking dogs. And it was more difficult in the sense that we had a mask that fit over their muzzle, and they could trick it. They could breathe out of the side of their mouth. When they did it at one area they trached them, and there was no cheating that. It was direct. There was no getting around that. I learned a lot. I mean, that was one of the most exciting jobs. And the learning curve was just like that. I really learned a lot about physiology and biology and chemistry. You work there that long, and you learn a lot. Because part of my job was necropsy--or what they call autopsy, but necropsing the dogs. And we always said we took everything but the bark. I mean we literally disarticulated them and took every piece that they had. Every organ, every bone, separated it. The reason for that—we wanted to know where the plutonium or curium or whatever went to in the body. Where was the body burden? Was it in the lungs, was it in the bones? And interestingly enough, we exposed Pu-238 and 239, and the 238 would be a bone-seeker. The bones would have high doses. But in 239, the bones hardly got anything. It was all soft tissue. So they learned a lot from that, as far as where these elements--what they seek. The target organs, if you will. I don't know if all that should go in this.
Arata: Fascinating. I really love hearing about it. Could you talk a little bit about--obviously, during those times, security and secrecy was still very much a part of working at Hanford. Did that impact your work at all?
Peters: Oh, a lot. You know, being raised--from my oldest memories, it was secure. And I can remember when I was probably about 10, 11, 12 years old I went in for a library card here in Richland. They asked who my dad worked for, and I was scared to tell them. Because the security--my dad never told me what was going on out there. And I knew security was a big deal. And I says, I don't know. I kind of knew, but I--And she says, well, what does he do? And I says, well, he drives. So then she wrote down General Electric. But no, I mean, it was paramount even as a kid. I can remember—and this is kind of funny hindsight--but kind of put yourself in that timeframe--I can remember calling my brother who was seven, eight, nine years old--would have been in the early '50s, McCarthy era--I can remember calling my brother a dirty communist. And my dad just came unglued. He would rather have me call him S.O.B. than that, because that wasn't something you messed with in the early '50s, with the FBI and everything else. But I mean, security was bred into you, I guess. And when I hired on, it was still, but not like it was. But many of us still had that same mentality. I can remember when they started releasing things to the public. That always bothered me, because this is secure, and people don't have the need to know a lot of this stuff. Security was a big deal. I mean, you didn't go anyplace without a security badge. They could stop you, search your car, and everything else. So it was a high priority. There was seclusion areas within the area. You might get out in the area, but you might not be able to get into a certain area. When you got in that area, you couldn't get into another area, like dash-5 or Z-Plant or REDOX or PUREX. You needed extra security on your badge to get in these places. So security was very tough.
Arata: Could you talk a little bit about how Hanford was overall as a place to work? Anything you found particularly challenging or very rewarding about your time in the area?
Peters: I think it was great. You know, let's face it, it was great for a lot of people that worked here. I mean, good pay—relatively good pay, and a lot of people raised their families and sent them to school on this pay out here. And as far as working out there, we really had fun in the early days. And by the early days, I mean when I hired on. Because I felt very lucky that when I hired on, most of the old-timers were still working. And by old-timers I mean them that hired in the '40s. So a lot of the stories, a lot of things that they knew and interesting things that they talked about, I was privy to. And that was great. And it was, to me, really a fun place to work. I really enjoyed it. Later I can remember saying more than once in the '80s or '90s, this isn't fun like it used to be. And it wasn't. But you know, I was younger then, and that made a difference. I was about 21, 22 when I hired on. And so times changed. I think in the early days--by that, my early days--there was what we call maybe some dead wood. And they might have five people to do a job for two people. But I mean, it was good, it was job security. Well, then came the cuts and so on. I think that made it a little different, because one thing that's bothered me over the years, there's been layoffs. But you can check the records. Many times after these layoffs, within six months they're calling them back, because work has to be done. We might cut 500 people, but that job is still there, so they called a portion of them back. Which, to me, doesn't make sense. But I don't think there's the fat out there that there was at one time.
Arata: Is there anything I haven't asked you about that you'd like to talk about? Any other stories that stand out?
Peters: I think the racial thing was a big story in the early days because there wasn't that many black people working out there. And I can remember us--I mentioned earlier that Richland didn't have hardly any blacks. We had one black I'm aware of. He was a shoeshine guy at the Ganzel's barbershop. His picture is still in there. But I can remember--I must have been six, seven years old--I saw my first black person. I was in a car downtown with my mom. And I saw him, and I just saw his hands and face. And I can remember wondering, I wonder if his whole body is that way—we just didn't see them. We had two black guys in high school. C.W. and Norris Brown, who was terrific basketball players. And the main reason their family moved was because of those two boys. It was a different time then. I don't know it should go on record, because I don't know if it's true or not, but talking about the early people that worked there, one of the stories that I heard--and like I say, whether it's true, I have no idea. But they were out working, and they had a burn barrel. It was very cold. A barrel full of wood and so on, a burn barrel. The construction workers were huddled around it, and this one colored individual this kind of bulled his way in. He wanted to get up to the front. And the story goes--whether, again, true or not, I don't know--a carpenter took his hammer and ended it. And that wouldn't surprise me, though I don't know if it's true or not. Because there was prejudice. A lot of the people that came here were from the South, and it was a different lifestyle. I know that they had separate camps for the blacks and the whites. And it was segregated. So I can remember when I was driving the bus here, we only had--to my recollection—one black in all of transportation. There may have been more, but I think only one. And it wasn't until probably '63 or '64 that they really started recruiting blacks.
Arata: I understand there were labor organizers and people who came in with the NAACP and that sort of thing to sort of assess conditions, which would have been about the time you were working in the 100 and 300 Areas. Do you have any recollections of that?
Peters: Well, the one black that I told you about was a serviceman—labor. Same group I was in. And he was the head of the local NAACP. His name was McGee. And the way you became a driver was seniority. In other words, if this driver retired and you were next in seniority, you'd get that job. Well, he was the next one up, as a laborer, for a driving job. They wouldn't give it to him, for obvious reasons. Well, he fought it through the NAACP and he ended up becoming a driver. But they was not going to give him that job because of his race. Battelle, to their credit, was the first ones to make an overt effort to hire black people. And that's where--gentleman you mentioned earlier. And Battelle had--not overwhelming, but a number of blacks working for them. And in inhalation toxicology we had a number in animal care as well as in the crafts. So I would say from '63 on, it started changing.
Arata: So this is kind of my last question--we'll have students accessing these interviews. Most of my students now are too young to have remembered the Cold War. It's sort of an older--
Peters: Yeah.
Arata: So maybe if you could just talk a little bit about what it was like being part of this Cold War effort, and what you'd like students or future generations to know about contributions to that process.
Peters: Yeah. I know there's different views on this, but I feel very strongly about--because I knew a lot of GIs from that time frame—had two uncles that were in the war. And you know, the atomic bombs, and we made the plutonium here for the bomb, literally ended the war. I am a firm believer--had we had to invade, there'd been hundreds of thousands on both sides killed. And they talk about the badness, rightfully so, of the atomic bomb. But you look at the conventional bombing of Germany, and it was as bad or worse as the atomic bombs. The firebombing of Tokyo. Things like that. So as bad as the atomic bomb was, it did end the war. You'd had to live through it. Now, as far as the Cold War goes, you know, the place wasn't supposed to last much more than ten years. And that's what everyone thought. Well, then the Russians got the bomb. That changed things a little bit. And it was scary. I mean, like I said earlier, me calling my brother communist. I wasn't old enough to really realize what was going on, but I can remember--would've been during the Korean War--my dad came to my brother and I and said, I want to know where you guys are all the time, because we might have to leave town in a hurry. That was the mentality of that time. We had air-raid sirens throughout the town. I can remember every--I believe it was Monday at ten o'clock, they would go off to test. But there was one right behind Jason Lee, where I was going at the time, and it was loud. Every--I think it was Monday or Tuesday, at ten o'clock they'd go off. Because we literally were on standby. We didn't know what was going to happen. And the Korean War and then the McCarthy era, it was a scary time for adults. You know, as a kid, you didn't notice it, other than watching others. But I think Hanford had a lot to do with ending the war. Which ushered in the Cold War, because of the proliferation of the weapons. And you have to give credit to whomever for tearing down the wall, for bringing somewhat of a peace in the world—I say somewhat. I think it was our spending billions of dollars building up our—you know the old saying, peace through strength. That's what Reagan did. He was a big spender, but he got the job done. But Hanford was unique, because I can still remember there was anti-aircraft placements out there. When I hired on, all the old track houses were still there. I worked on a fuel truck, and we would fuel here and there and then we'd go out into the desert area, if you will, and look at these old houses that were still standing. And the old icehouse was still there. And a lot of these buildings were still there in the '60s. And why they had the need to tear them all down, I don't know. I think it was a shame. But they tore them all down other than the bank and the school. I believe about all that's left. No, it was a different time. Like I say, I can still remember my dad telling us both, I want to know where you are in case we have to leave town. I mentioned earlier, the FBI--it was not unusual to have an FBI agent knock at the door and talk to my folks about so-and-so. We had neighbors that lived in the same house—in our A house, our neighbors there was there one day and gone the next. It wasn't unusual to--you're out of here.
Arata: Certainly a different time. I want to thank you so much for coming in and sharing your memories with us. I really appreciate it. We'll film all these goodies you brought us, if that's okay--
Peters: Yep.
Arata: --before we have to go.
Northwest Public Television | Pasch_Myles
Robert Bauman: Okay. All right. My name's Robert Bauman. And I'm conducting an oral history interview with Mr. Myles Pasch, today June 11th, 2013 and we are conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities, and I'll be talking to Mr. Pasch about his experiences working at the Hanford site. So good morning, and thank you for being willing to have me talk to you today and be our first subject in this project. Appreciate it.
Myles Pasch: Welcome.
Bauman: So what if start by just having you tell me how and why you ended up coming to the Tri-Cities area to work at the Hanford site. How did that come about?
Pasch: Well I come about, my mother was working here when I got out of the Army in '45. Why, she already had a job lined up for me out here, and so come out here to take that job that they--the job actually didn't materialize, but I start working with the electrical distribution as a lineman's helper, because of the experience in the Army. I was a communications system in the Army, and so I started out in the line distribution as a ground man for the line gang, and about six months later why the Corps of Engineers turned the telephone system over to DuPont and with the telephone experience I had, they--I mean if you put me in the telephone system and I worked in there then until I--until my retirement. And various jobs from cable splicer helper, to cable splicer, to lineman and supervisor of the installation and maintenance crews, and then supervisor's office. Finally end up in engineering section by the time I retired.
Bauman: So you worked in a lot of different places, but mostly on electrical and phone.
Pasch: Just about all of it on phones. Phones, phones, and phone lines.
Bauman: And what sort of job did your mother have when you arrived?
Pasch: She was in the T Plant, 221-T Plant cleaning instruments and that from the separations group when they--vessels that they had to use for transferring materials and so forth and she was cleanup on that.
Bauman: Oh, okay. And when had she begun work here?
Pasch: She began work there when they went into production. She worked at Hanford during construction in the mess hall, and then she transferred to DuPont and started working soon as--right after they went into production instead of construction. My dad also worked there. Both in construction and in--and he went into patrol, the Hanford patrol, when they went into production.
Bauman: And do you know how your parents ended up coming here for work?
Pasch: I really don't. I was in the Army at the time that they did come out here, and so I'm not sure how--other than I know they were living in northern Wisconsin. There wasn't much going on there, and so I know that they tried to find something in the war industry to work on, so they applied for and came out here to Hanford.
Bauman: And did both of your parents continue working at Hanford after the war also?
Pasch: Yes. Fact is, I think my dad retired in '52. My mother retired when DuPont phased out and they went to General Electric. She phased out with DuPont, but Dad stayed in until 1951, actually, when he retired.
Bauman: Right. So you said you initially worked for the Army Corps of Engineers and then DuPont?
Pasch: No. I worked for DuPont when I hired on in July of '45, but the Corps of Engineers was running the telephone systems at that time rather than DuPont, and they turned the telephone systems over to DuPont in January of '46, and at that time I transferred right over to the telephone section and worked there until retirement.
Bauman: Okay. So what might a typical work day have been for you back in the late 1940s early 1950s? What sorts of things might you have done in a typical workday? Where might you have gone on the Hanford site?
Pasch: Well, we had to go wherever they needed telephone service, and it was installation of the wiring, telephones, and maintenance of them. And so wherever they needed telephones, we went. I worked in the outer areas all the time, very little in the 300 Area. Most of my work was in the two East-West, and the 100 Areas, wherever they needed a telephone repaired or put in, why, there's where we worked.
Bauman: How large of a crew or group did you work with usually, would be out there doing telephone repairs?
Pasch: Usually there was about eight or ten men on the telephone installation and repair group, and there was anywhere from one to four cable splicer crews going splicing cable. Especially when they really start opening up in the late '40s early '50s, and they start increasing the size and that of the telephone systems.
Bauman: So I imagine over the 37 years--is that how long?
Pasch: Yes, 37.
Bauman: Imagine over the course of those 37 years the telephone systems changed quite a bit.
Pasch: Yes, we started out with--when the Corps of Engineers had it, they started out with common battery switchboards with operators on them in each area, and each area had a 100 or 200 line switchboard, whatever they needed. And when they turned it over to DuPont, though, they'd already had installed a automatic switching station. So right after they turned it over to DuPont, why it switched over to automatic switching stations and the operators were taken off the project. And then it wasn't many years later they had to increase the size of that. They went from a Strowger switching system to a North Electric all relay switching system. And just in the--well not what, in the early '80s or late '70s, why, they switched over to a computer-controlled switching system, which is what they are still using out there now is a computer-controlled. But they went from say 100 lines in each area to several thousand lines and now, and the increase in people and buildings that were put in during that time. During that period of time. When I first started there, there was only three reactors and the East-West Area each had a separations building, but the only one that was actually in use was the 221-T Plant.
Bauman: So were some of those buildings more challenging to work with install or fix phone lines?
Pasch: Yeah, some of them we had to get special permits, special clothing, monitor buttons, and pencils, and badges to go into them. Probably only allowed 30 minutes in some spots. They were restricted to how long you could work in there and so forth, because of the radiation.
Bauman: Mm-hmm. So did you have a radiation monitor or some sort when you did that?
Pasch: We had a radiation monitor. Our badge was a radiation monitor. Whenever we went into an area, why, we got a couple of pencils that you put in your pocket that rated different types of radiation. Some buildings they had to have even another different pencil in your pocket in order to work there. Because there was different types, different radiations.
Bauman: And, so you mentioned you worked in T-Plant? In there as well?
Pasch: Oh, yes, I worked--fact is that was one of our most challenging ones. We went there to work, and you had to drive dressed in double protective coveralls and boots, and gloves, and hoods, mask, and then when you went out, you had to strip all that and you couldn't drag your tools out with you. They stayed, either stayed or got thrown away. So in that one you were very limited on how long you could work in the canyon. That was in the canyon itself.
Bauman: Yeah. Now for the site itself, when you first started working at Hanford site, given high security and secrecy, did you have to get a special security clearance, or--?
Pasch: I had a Q clearance all while I worked there. I had a Q clearance, which allowed you into everything except top secret buildings. The only thing about Hanford there is a need to know basis. You never learned anything about anything else that was going on except if you were doing it. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: When you first started, were you--how did you get to Hanford? Were you able to drive your own vehicle or did you have to take the bus?
Pasch: We took a bus out. You could drive your own vehicle off the area, park it outside the fence and that, but most people rode the bus out. They had bus transportation to all areas.
Bauman: And did that continue for most of the time that you worked at Hanford, or did that start to change?
Pasch: That continued. Most of the time I worked at Hanford, except the last few years and I was manager or supervisor of the business office. I was working in the 700 Area in the Federal Building. Was then based in there. So at that time I no longer had to ride buses out. But then the last three four years I worked, I was back out in the areas again, but of course I was driving company car out for instructing people on the new telephone systems. They'd set up meetings and I'd go out and instruct them on how it worked and what they could--what they could use of the communication systems. There was a lot of stuff they weren't allowed to use by DOE because it was expensive and unnecessary. So some of the things that they could have had and used, why, they weren't available to the plant operations. Some of the top management had them, but a lot of the systems was not available to the regular—most of the divisions.
Bauman: Now because of the security at Hanford, and secrecy, were there any sort of special phone--concerns about communication, using telephones. Was there any special security or anything like that, related to telephones?
Pasch: They always stressed security. That, talk and sink your ship, and so forth and that, to keep people from talking, and of course they had monitoring systems that they--the FBI had one set up in one of the buildings there where they could access any phone in the plant if they had the need to monitor to see if anything was going on that shouldn't be going on. And they then recorded them on little old spools of wax. Little drums of wax recordings that they used to use way back when.
Bauman: Really? [LAUGHTER] Wow, that's interesting. Did that impact your work at all, the connections at all, or how you did the telephone lines at all?
Pasch: It just gave us more work. I mean we had to--and that was top secret, we were not allowed to discuss that with anyone that this was set up was there, available to the government.
Bauman: I’m going to shift a little bit now and talk a little bit about the area, the Tri-Cities area. When you first arrived where did you live? And what were your first impressions of Richland or the area here?
Pasch: Well it was--lived in a--with my folks. They'd rented a three bedroom prefab, because they wanted us to come and live with them while I was there. So we lived in that prefab for the first six months, then we moved into one of the B houses down the south end of town. And it was pretty desolate, lot of wind, no trees. [LAUGHTER] And I thought every time the wind blew, why, they'd lose about half their—half their employees would terminate—termination winds they used to call them. [LAUGHTER] And of course the--none of the cities were any too large at that time, and they just grown a lot since. But Richland was all government owned, all the homes and everything was government owned until about '53 they sold the--about '52 or '53 they started selling the houses to the resident who was in the house. And I moved out just before that. We'd moved out and went to Kennewick, so we didn't buy one of the--one of the plant houses.
Bauman: Now had you--did you know anything about the area before you came here? Had your parents told you anything really about--
Pasch: Not a thing. Just come for the job.
Bauman: So what was the community like in those early years in the late ‘40s early ‘50s? Because I would assume most people had come from all over the United States to work. What was that like?
Pasch: They come all from all over from the United States and they--everything in town was government owned. So they had a big recreation building. They had two theaters and they had the recreation building where they would contract some major musicians to come in and play, oh, probably once a month they'd come in and play for a dance there for the people. About the only other--well, we had the bowling alley and one tavern in town. [LAUGHTER] Yeah, the bowling alley and the tavern and two theaters. So a lot of the recreation were just people parading up and down the streets on a Sunday when they weren't working.
Bauman: So there were theaters to go to. Were there any parades or those sorts of events going on in the summer at all?
Pasch: Every year they had parades that the government sponsored. Either parades or art in the park and such as that, that they got started. So there was quite a bit going on, and like I say, every so often they'd get a big band, one of the big bands in to play for the dances. And each department would manage to make a couple of parties every year to keep their people happy.
Bauman: You mentioned the termination winds and often a lot of people came and went. What made you stay and your family stay there?
Pasch: Oh, I guess I liked the job. [LAUGHTER] It was just what I had always had been doing was telephone work. So I liked the job, and the pay wasn't too bad. And we had all—a lot of free time. I mean on the weekends and that, and it wasn't too far to go out to find recreation in the areas. Fishing or boating or just sightseeing. So we enjoyed—and we enjoyed the climate and that here compared to in some other areas we lived in.
Bauman: Not quite as cold as Wisconsin, I guess..
Pasch: Yes. That's--
Bauman: I wonder if there were any major events or things that happened while you were working at Hanford that stand out in your memory. I know President Kennedy was here in 1963, right, to sort of open the N Reactor. I wonder if you remember anything about that or are there any other events that really stand out?
Pasch: That was one time that they even let school out so that school kids could go out there. And our son was in the band, so he was out there playing, and the whole family was out at the N Reactor when President Kennedy was there. Were able to spend the afternoon out there. Fact is, they even got a chance then to take them by the building I was based in at the time, which is out the old BY telephone building. Got to take the family by there, and so we had a family picnic there at the BY building on the way home from the outing.
Bauman: That's probably the first time family members had a chance to be out--
Pasch: That's the first time they were allowed out there at all. I mean if you didn't have a badge you didn't go out there, unless you got special badge to go out into the area. But they had the checkpoints at 300 are and out at--on the highway coming in from the Yakima area--the highway where that highway 24's junctions with it. They had a gate out there, and one out by the--before you got to 300 Area and you had to have a badge to go through there.
Bauman: Okay. And were you able to drive your cars out for that event?
Pasch: You could, but they were inspected. Trunks inside and outside as you went through, and--but you could drive your car out. But most people did use the bus.
Bauman: I wonder if--what would you like future generations to know about Hanford? What it was like to work there. What it was like living in the Tri-Cities, especially in the 1940s and 1950s and those years in early Cold War years.
Pasch: Well, I don't know. [LAUGHTER] That's a--other than the fact, that it was one of the main things that stopped the World War very soon. I mean they saved--people worry about them having killed a lot of people, but they saved a lot lives. And if you look at it in the long run, well, they saved one amount of lives with the production at the Hanford plant.
Bauman: It seems like your work experience in 37 years was generally very good. You liked your job, is that right?
Pasch: Most of the time it was good, yes. It was--there was ups and downs, but it was as a rule it was pretty good. It was a good job and it was a sure job. I mean as long as you did your work and kept your nose clean, why, you had a job for as long as you wanted to stay. I could've stayed on beyond retirement age if I wanted to, but I was ready to go traveling.
Bauman: And how about the Tri-Cities as a place to live? You mentioned you moved to Kennewick in the early 1950s?
Pasch: We moved to Kennewick in 1952, and lived there until 2011. I moved back into Richland, about four or five blocks away from where we first started out in Richland. [LAUGHTER] So I liked it in Kennewick, but it's crowded. We found a real nice location out in Richland that we liked and I built a home there, and we--I moved out there.
Bauman: Well that's really interesting about your work and seeing the different changes right, with the telephone system and changes at Hanford. So you started with DuPont. What other contractors did you work for over the years?
Pasch: Well, DuPont, and General Electric, and ARCO, and Westinghouse, and main one, Rockwell. Fact is, I've spent a lot of time—Rockwell was one of the last ones that I just transferred over to Westinghouse as Rockwell phased out just about the time they were phasing out and combining a lot of the companies. Rockwell went out and I've worked with--or with Westinghouse for just a short time, then just to carry over until they got it--got all their programs going again right. There's a lot of change every five years at least, why, they were changing contractors, and was always a big change.
Bauman: Was there a contract you worked for that you really enjoyed working for maybe more than some of the others?
Pasch: Oh, no. They were all pretty good. I mean they were--had a job to do, and I was working in the same telephone department all the time. We just transferred under different management, and seems like all of those contractors were nice to work for. I mean, they were all—seemed just one as good as the other.
Bauman: Okay. Is there anything that I haven't asked you about? Or any memories that you have of either working at Hanford or living in the Tri-Cities that you think is important to share that I haven't asked you about yet, or haven't talked about yet?
Pasch: Not off hand. I can't think of anything. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Okay. Well, I really appreciate you coming and sharing your memories and your experiences working at the Hanford site and being a part, especially of those early years at Hanford. I really appreciate it, and thanks very much.
Pasch: Other than being a little nervous, why, I enjoyed it. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Thank you.
Man two: The only thing I can think of—well you--
Woman one: Last week my daughter came here when we came for the chancellor thing. And she's 15, and they had studied it somewhat in school, but she had some really strange thoughts, and not really positive thoughts about things that had happened here. And I was wondering if maybe you, since you lived through it, if you could make that—the reality of life at that time more real to them?
Pasch: I don't know, it just--there was a lot of restrictions and that, that you had to consider, going through that. And the security involved with it was very strict, but I can see where it was very necessary. Any of that restrictions and the production that they made, like I say, saved a lot of lives overall, if you'd have continued with the war as it was going. Why, it brought a stop to it in a hurry. And I think we should be thankful that it did that rather than carry on for invasion of Japan and whatever would have happened after that.
Bauman: Well again, thank you very much. I really appreciate you being willing to be the first person to be interviewed as part of this. You get all the little nuances of everything so I really appreciate Mr. Pasch. Thank you very much.
Pasch: You're welcome.
Man one: Okay. Stop the tape.
Northwest Public Television | Noga_Leroy
Leroy Noga: Leroy Noga. But I usually go by Lee all the time.
Robert Bauman: And your last name is N-O-G-A?
Noga: N-O-G-A, yeah.
Bauman: Okay. All right. My name's Robert Bauman. Today's date is October 15th of 2013. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So let's start if we could just by having you talk about how and why you came to Hanford. When that happened, what brought you here?
Noga: Well, I had hired--in the state of Minnesota. And they painted a picture of all the pine trees and everything, and several of us come out here in 1955. So I drove out here--it was January in '55. And from Spokane to here—it was at night and it was foggy where you could cut it with a knife. I couldn't even see the white line on the side, hardly. Anyway, I stayed at the Desert Motel in Richland. And next morning, got in the car and I see all this stuff that looked like I was on the moon or something. Sage brush. Where's all the pine trees, you know? I couldn't believe it. Everybody's got a picture of Washington with the beautiful pine trees and everything. [LAUGHTER] Including us from Minnesota. Anyway, so then of course I hired in with GE. And stayed in the dorm, men's dorm. And that was another shocker because I'm a ballroom dancer and used to going to several ballrooms in Minneapolis. Big ones--the Prom, the Marigold. And I would always never have a problem to pick up a woman--a nice looking woman to dance with. And here everything was--the women were afraid to go out. They stayed in the dorm and there wasn't anybody to dance with. I was very disappointed and I thought, as soon as I get enough money, I'm leaving town, and I'm going on. I was single at the time, of course. But then I went to work in K Area and K-West. Around suddenly and after I got to see the area a little bit. Of course, I'm from Minnesota, land of the ten-thousand lakes--we actually got a lot more than that. But here it was rivers, and I was unfamiliar with rivers. But after I got acquainted just a little bit, and found out how the hunting was--very good duck hunting and pheasant hunting at the time. I thought, hey, this isn't so bad. And then I tried the river fishing, which was quite different. And that wasn't so bad either. I was able to catch fish. And then I did dance with a local girl that said, well Lee, just stick it out a little while. It kind of grows on you. And I still remember that statement, and I'm still here—
Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Noga: --after all this time. And I wouldn't move. Of course the area has changed a lot.
Bauman: Mm-hmm.
Noga: And we had dust storms then. A couple of us bachelors, we stayed in a Bower Day House. And after one dust storm, I think we had about a half of inch of dust on the floor the next day. And that was typical. They weren't too well built, as far as keeping the dust out. And I can remember another time there living in the same house where we had a big snowstorm and then we got a chinook after that, chinook wind. Which we used to get a lot of those warm chinook winds, of course. And I remember the water had melted so fast, that the water had washed a full six pack right in front of our house. And I thought, well that's nice. [LAUGHTER] And anyway, as far as--you were going to ask me some questions.
Bauman: Yeah. Well I going to--about how long were you in the dorms then? And then how long did you live in the Bower Day House?
Noga: Well, I was in the dorms--gee, that that's going way back. I don't remember. Maybe a year a year or maybe a little longer. I remember I missed a piano, because I used to play the piano. And I rented a piano and put it downstairs in a dorm. It was kind of something you don't usually do. But I did it anyway and played. And we ate breakfast every morning at the Mart which is now the Davidson Building, I think it is--right there across from the post office.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Noga: Big mart, everybody was eating there.
Bauman: What was Richland like as a community in the 1950s?
Noga: Well, everybody kept their doors open. Never locked them. It was a government town so it was very safe. With no crime like there is now. You remember the officers’ club and stuff out the area where they had--well the government tried to keep us here, and so they had big functions out there. Dances and name performers out there. And I was out there a few times--out here in north Richland. The government, of course, didn't want us to quit. And some of us stuck it out, like myself. And I worked for ten years for GE and then GE pulled out. And that's something that really irritates me to this day because--I don't know if--you probably don't want to televise this, but anyway, I think that was timed. The government always has these contractors come in and then they change. And I was—they had a ten year contract to be vested. But they had an age clause. You had to be 28 years old and I was a one month away from that. So I either had to go back east and work for GE back there—but I had a family of four now. And of course I didn't want to go back there and leave my family here. So I didn't get vested. And then different companies come. And Westinghouse, and on, and on. And every time I really had a nice job—I really loved it--a different company would come in. I had to change companies or I had to change jobs. I finally got tired of it and I quit. And I started my own business. And I might mention this--while having my own business, I did security systems, and fire systems, and stuff like that. And I was the first company that installed the first security system out here in the 300 Area. It was ultrasonic over the fuel rod of the pool. And so I thought that was something that maybe someone else didn't do out here, related to the area.
Bauman: Right. And so what year was that then? Roughly around the time period that you quit and started your own business?
Noga: Well, it had to be after ten years. I quit—I don't remember just exactly what year I quit out here. I worked for Battelle. And then I think Westinghouse come in. I think that's when I quit. Rather than change companies again, I just got tired of it.
Bauman: Mm-hmm.
Noga: Yeah--
Bauman: Let's go back--if it's okay to go back a little bit. You mentioned your first job was to K-West.
Noga: Yeah.
Bauman: So what sort of job was it? What sort of work were you doing then?
Noga: Well I was instrumentation, of course. And did all the instrumentation out there. It was a very--I liked it because it was such a variety of different instrumentation. And then some of the really nasty work we had to do as an instrument person was go on the rear face with the water dripping down. All dressed up in rain gear, gloves, and everything double, you know. And the radiation was so intense back there that you could only spend about 15 minutes, 20 minutes, or something. And you were back there to replace these bad thermal temperature devices on the rear face. I didn't really like the working in the reactors too much. And I tried to get into the 300 Area labs, which I finally was able to do. They didn't like to let us go out there in areas, but I finally made it. And then we--in the 300 Area that was very interesting, too. Because there we got the moon rocks and we analyzed those. And I worked with chemical engineers and whatever to get the right instrumentation. Whatever they needed to put that stuff together so they could do what they want. It was interesting work.
Bauman: Yeah, right.
Noga: We had what they called multi-channel analyzers at that time. We didn't have computers yet. It was—the computer age was just starting.
Bauman: If we can go back again to talking about working on the rear face of the reactor. You said, you could only be there for about 15 or 20 minutes. Was that only 15, 20 minutes that day, and then you couldn't go back in again that day?
Noga: Yeah, you were burned out for--well I can't remember the period. You were burned out. You couldn't go back there for maybe a month.
Bauman: Wow. And so I assume you had some sort of dosimeter, or badge, or something like that?
Noga: Yeah, you had pencils and stuff.
Bauman: Mm-hmm.
Noga: Mm-hmm. Which they read when you came off the rear face.
Bauman: Were there ever any times working there that you had an overexposure, or anything like that? Or any of your coworkers, or anything along those lines?
Noga: Well, I was never overexposed, I don't believe. I think there probably were some incidences but--
Bauman: None that you were--
Noga: No.
Bauman: Okay.
Noga: They were pretty careful--radiation monitoring were pretty careful to always check the time and they always read the dosimeters. And that was pretty well adhered to.
Bauman: And then you said you moved to the labs. Is that the 300 Area, or--
Noga: Yes.
Bauman: And you worked there for several years, or--
Noga: Yeah, I worked there for—I don’t know—eight years or so, maybe. And then when I quit, I came back as the--I quit for, I think 12 years, when I had my own business.
Bauman: Mm-hmm.
Noga: And then I came back as a manual writer. It was an engineer’s title. I forget the glorified name I got. [LAUGHTER] But it was a manual writer writing procedures N Reactor. Instrument procedures for the--because I was an instrument person. It was an ideal task for me, as an engineer to write the test procedures for instrumentation. For the instrument people there at N Reactor.
Bauman: And which company was that, for then? Which contractor that--
Noga: Phew. UNC.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Noga: My mind isn't very good as far as old stuff because--
Bauman: That's good.
Noga: I just remember the stuff—lucky to remember the stuff today.
Bauman: One of the events--sort of big events in this period--President Kennedy came to visit in 1963. Where you working at--
Noga: Kennedy?
Bauman: Yeah. President Kennedy.
Noga: I remember that.
Bauman: Were you on-site? Did you see him?
Noga: Oh, yeah.
Bauman: I was wondering if you could talk about that at all and describe your memory of that.
Noga: Well, I just remember that he was here and I saw him. That's about all I remember about it. Yeah. That was quite an event.
Bauman: Do you remember anything about the day at all, or--
Noga: Well, everybody was just really happy and pleased that he came. He was pretty well loved, you know--as a man.
Bauman: I wonder--you mentioned earlier--some of the security at Hanford and obviously it was a place that emphasized security, secrecy. Did that--in what ways did that impact your work at all? The sort of focus on security or secrecy?
Noga: Well, I don't know how far you want to digress from—wherever I want to go?
Bauman: Wherever you want to go, yeah.
Noga: Well talking about security brings up something that I thought I'd mention. And that is after I got to work there at GE for a while, and talking with regional monitoring people, and stuff like that. They got to know me, and I got to know them, and they found out that I was interested in old cars—antique cars. So one of them told me about--there's an old Chevrolet cab convertible out there in the boonies. Somewhere between H Area and F Area. And I said, oh really? And I thought the guy was just blowing wind maybe. I didn't really believe him at the time. But then I got still interested. I got to talking to him and maybe another monitoring guy, and it sounded like there really was one out there. So I looked into it further and I thought, well if there is, how do I get it? How can I get it? So I talked to Purchasing and Purchasing says, well you'll have to bid on it. And I said, can I bit on it? And if so, I don't even know if I can find it. I said, is there a minimum that I can bid for it? No, no minimum. Just fill out the papers. So I bid a minimum of $25. And I got a security clearance to go off the road. Because this was just out in the boonies. No roads, just out in the sage brush to look for it. Somewhere between H Area and Rattlesnake. So I asked a friend of mine who had a Jeep if he'd go out there with me. And we used his Jeep and we hooked a trailer behind, and off we went. We got permission to go out there. And we drove around quite a bit. And we finally found it. And we winched it on. And then I thought, well now I wonder if I can get a title for this thing from the state? [LAUGHTER] But being the contract from the government, and that I bought it--the state didn't hesitate at all. And I got a title for it. And this is one of the originals from an old homestead out there. You could still see some remains of the homestead. Of course the government went and destroyed everything. And most of the automobiles--I don't know if you know this--but most of the automobiles that were out there, the government made a special attempt to destroy all the engines. They took sledgehammers and busted the engines up. They made special attempts to--so the automobiles would never be used again. I don't know why, but that's what they did. This one somehow escaped. And the engine was still in it. But the head was off of it. But it was still restorable. And I have not restored it yet, after all these years. But now comes a time when I'm trying to get somebody interested in it. And if so, restore it and give it to him. Because I don't have that many years left. I'm hoping that somebody might help me a little bit financially to do it. And I would then donate it to whoever.
Bauman: But you still have it after all these years?
Noga: I still have it. Yup. It's been in the garage for all these years.
Bauman: Yeah. That's interesting that it was a car from one of the old town sites—old home sites there that was still sitting out there.
Noga: Yes.
Bauman: I had not heard that.
Noga: Yes. I brought it up because it is a very rare incident. And I think I'm probably the one and only that has done something like this. At least maybe the first one.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Right.
Noga: And I'm also the first one, like I say, to put a security system out here.
Bauman: Mm-hmm. So thinking back on your years working at Hanford, what were--and maybe you've already talked about this--what were the most challenging aspects of your work there and the most rewarding parts of working at Hanford?
Noga: Well, most challenging? Hmm. Oh, you know, it was all challenging, really. [LAUGHTER] It was very different. The instrumentation—when I first went out there, I was not a technician. I was a trainee--I had to be a trainee first. And my technician was not all that—didn't seem like he was there that long either. He didn't know all that much either, I don't think. [LAUGHTER] And I can remember one incident, they had an instrument that had mercury in it. We had to be careful how you calibrated it. And it wasn't my fault, because I was just a trainee. But my technician blew the mercury out. It went all over the control room which was not a big--nobody really appreciated that too much. That was challenging. That was kind of challenging. You had to be very careful, as an instrument person, with what you did. And if you worked in the control room, like in--what's the first--the reactor they're making a--
Bauman: B Reactor?
Noga: B Reactor. If you worked back there at the panel gauges, you had to be very carefully that you didn't bump something, because they were very sensitive. Any movement, jar or something--and you could trip the reactor while the reactor was up. And you had to calibrate some of those things while the reactor was up. You actually had a lot of responsibility there. If you knocked the reactor down--and you could--you didn't hear too many good comments. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Yeah. How about the most rewarding part of your work in Hanford?
Noga: Well, when I—I don't know. There was a lot of rewarding things. When I came back to work again after a 12 year hiatus, so to speak, they closed N Reactor down, and I had to find another job. There weren't that many jobs available at PUREX because there was a lot of people looking. PUREX had a job for a project engineer job. And I interviewed for it and I said, well I'd kind of like this. But I don't think I'm qualified. I said, I'd like to have it, but I'll be honest with you, I don't think I'm qualified. Because I don't have a degree. A chemical degree is what you should have had for that job. But down the senior engineer that was doing the hiring--he called me and he said, Lee, you've got the job if you want it. So I thought, what the heck, I'll try it, you know? [LAUGHTER] But I was able to find the niche there where I was needed. And it just so happened they were replacing all the electrical main panels, you know--and everything like that. So I was then the project engineer for doing that. And the people from Kaiser, who actually came out and did tests and everything--I had to approve everything that they wrote up. And from the PUREX standpoint to see if it was safe, and so on, and so forth. That was rewarding. It was a challenging job. And then from there, I went to Kaiser. And there I got a job writing procedures for electrical code violations. So I had to write procedures to correct all—bring all the stuff up to code. This was a little bit out of my element, because I was an instrument technician. But I just got the code book out and learned quick. And that was rewarding, too.
Bauman: I wanted to go back to--
Noga: I wore a lot different hats out there.
Bauman: Yeah, right. I want to go back to almost sort of first question I asked you. You said you came from Minnesota and you'd heard these sort of stories of Washington State, or whatever. What were you doing in Minnesota before you came here? And how much--what did you know about the Hanford site itself? Did you know what was being done at the Hanford site, and that sort of thing?
Noga: Well, I guess I should have known more. I really didn't know anything about it, particularly. I was just young, I guess. The recruiter came through and it sounded good. The money sounded good. And some of my--I went to Dunwoody Institute there. That's where I hired out from in Minneapolis. And some of the other students also hired in with GE. So I thought it probably was a good thing to do to start out. Good experience. That's actually what I trained for there at Dunwoody was instrumentation. I went there--I tried to go to college, but I didn't have any money really to support myself. And it was even tough to support myself at Dunwoody because I didn't have no help at all. I had to work part-time every night.
Bauman: Do you remember how much your first job at Hanford paid?
Noga: Oh, boy. [LAUGHTER] I don't. But there was overtime, of course. It paid pretty well. Although I've made more even before that, one time. It's a little off the subject again. But I worked on the Garrison Dam in North Dakota. And here again, I wore a different hat. Me and a buddy of mine, we hired in--we bought a brand new toolbox, put it a saw in it, hammer, and blah, blah, blah. And hired in there at the Dam as journeymen carpenters. The union--which is real strong--they'd been needing people so bad that the union official didn't check us out, which he should have. And big money. I saved the checks for a long time. We went double-time. Worked on Sundays. An astronomical amount of money. But then we got greedy because we heard they were making even more on the outlet side. I think I worked on the inlet side, and we when on the outlet side. Well, I worked there about two weeks and then union guy got wise and we had to quit. I can't remember but I it was a couple of hundred dollars a week, which was pretty good money at that time. I don't remember.
Bauman: You talked earlier about finding the car, and being able to purchase the car, I guess.
Noga: Yeah.
Bauman: Were there any other sort of unique things that happened or things that stand out in your memory during your time working at Hanford?
Noga: No, other than meeting a girlfriend out there. [LAUGHTER] I don't know. I worked in almost every area out there. I worked in all the hundred areas. I worked at PUREX. I worked in 200 Areas, 300 Areas. I worked in almost every lab in 300 Area. I worked in 325, in all of them, 329.
Bauman: Of all the different places you worked, the different jobs that you had--was there one that you enjoyed the most, that was--looking back on it, you'd say it was maybe your favorite job that you had out there?
Noga: Well, all the work I did in 300 Area was very pleasing to me. And of course after that things changed a lot when they start shutting down things. I really did like N Reactor. I will say that. They were the--of all the places I worked, it was like a family. They were the friendliest, nicest bunch of people to work with. Everybody seemed to know everybody, and you know, it was very pleasant.
Bauman: So it's a group of people you worked with that made that so enjoyable.
Noga: Yeah. Yeah, the whole N Area was just--I really hated to see that close. It was, like I say, like a family.
Bauman: So if you look back at your time working at Hanford, overall, how would you assess your experience working in the Hanford site?
Noga: Well it--other than what happened to me changing jobs all the time, other than that bitterness--really my employer was the government. And they should be the ones that--I shouldn't—break in service, and all that stuff. You shouldn't have lost it like I did. I lost it when I quit. And then I went back to work there again. But that's the bitterness I have.
Bauman: Mm-hmm.
Noga: Which you'll probably leave out of this interview. [LAUGHTER] But other than that, it was a--I'd never tried it really. It was a wealth of experience and rewarding. Like I say, we did interesting things. Counted moon samples and it was very interesting--always. All the experiments we did, it was different. The engineers were always trying to think of something different to do. How to lower the background so that you could count very low background stuff and radiation. It was always interesting, always challenging. And then after that when the work there at 300, when I quit and went back, it wasn't fun anymore then. I mean, then things are closing down, pretty much. I closed PUREX down. I worked there and then they quit. They closed down. N Reactor closed down. And everything was closing down. That's when the fun stopped, kind of.
Bauman: Yeah, I was going to ask you then obviously, at some point, the effort shifts from production to clean up. And I wondered how that impacted some of the things that you did? Was it that you saw a lot things shutting down at that point?
Noga: Well, after things started shutting down, of course just overall morale went down. And the sense of purpose didn't seem to be there anymore.
Bauman: I teach a class on the Cold War. And a lot of my students that I teach were born after the Cold War ended. And obviously, you were employed at Hanford in the 1950s and 1960s--the height of the Cold War in many ways. If you were talking to someone who didn't really know much about the Cold War, or was born after it ended—how would you explain or describe Hanford during that time?
Noga: Well, let's see. That's a big question. How do I feel about it? Do I approve of how the government just took over things and ordered everybody out without any money? Reimbursement until much later? How do I feel about that? Well, I've got mixed emotions about some of that stuff. How do I feel about dropping the bomb on Hiroshima? We made the stuff and how do I feel about that? I still have probably mixed emotions about that, too. But I guess it's something we had to do. I have to accept that. One thing I will say, what went on at Hanford could never have happened in the time frame that it happened there at Hanford. How they designed and built like the PUREX Building, for instance. It's simply amazing. Outstanding workmanship and performance. It's unbelievable, almost, what happened in that short period of time. And it was a very dedicated workforce. Of course we didn't know a lot of what we were doing when we first came out here really. But we just did our work. It was interesting. And we all really were dedicated and liked our job.
Bauman: Is there anything I haven't asked you about yet? Or is there anything else about your experiences at Hanford that you'd like to talk that you haven't had the chance to talk about yet?
Noga: Gee, I don't know. I have a son that still works out—more or less works for Hanford. And he is getting a furlough, maybe today. Because our government’s shutting down. Mixed emotions again. [LAUGHTER] As far as Hanford, like I say, it was a good experience for me. And I'm not sorry I came out here. Not sorry I went to work for Hanford. Lots of good memories. And a lot of my friends, a course though who are gone. I'm one of those hold-outs. [LAUGHTER] Yeah, just so many of my friends that hired in when I did, they're no longer around. I'm 83 right now, so. Yup, time goes fast.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you for coming in today and sharing your memories and experiences. I appreciate it.
Noga: Thank you.
Northwest Public Television | Moore_Samuel
Robert Bauman: My name is Robert Bauman, and I am conducting an oral history interview with Samuel Moore, correct?
Samuel Moore: Right, Samuel--
Bauman: This date is July 9, 2013. And the interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. And I'll be talking with Mr. Moore about his experiences working at Hanford site, living in Richland and so forth. So maybe let's start actually from the beginning, if you want, could you tell me how and why you came to Hanford, how you heard about it, how you got here?
Moore: Okay, I'm going to tell you how I got here. My father was working at a cook in the mental section of Camp Chaffee, Arkansas. And he came home, and he says, there's a better job at Hanford, Washington. So he left and came out. Then he told them that I can't be here without my family. So they put us on, I think it was a troop train, and it stopped in Pasco and set us off.
Bauman: Could you--where is Camp Chaffee, Arkansas?
Moore: It's east of Ft. Smith and that, so.
Bauman: And how old were you at the time?
Moore: About eight. And then we come in--put us off of this I'll call it a troop train, because there was a zillion soldiers on it. And it picks up and they took us to Kennewick to a place called Naval Housing. And that's where they put the people coming in for Hanford workers to stay until a house was available. And we stayed there, and then from there we moved to this nice little square building which had a flat top, set up on stilts. And it was called a prefab at 1300 Totten Street. And that means that we lived at the end house. The telephones were on the telephone poles at the end of the block. So when the phone would ring you were told to answer the phone and go get whoever it wanted who. So that's the way we started in Richland. And we lived there for I don't know how long. And then we moved to different houses around Richland until I graduated from Columbia High School, which was Columbia High School in Richland at that time. Now it's Richland High. And then after that I did a short job with a construction company. And then I went to work for General Electric, running one of their blueprint machines when they were getting ready to build the REDOX Building and the PUREX Building. So I'd go, I was the first one in to warm up the machines and run them for a while. And then after while I got uplined and I could deliver those suckers out into the area. So that was my starting with General Electric then.
Bauman: Okay, so let me go back a little bit. So what year did your family arrive then?
Moore: 19--it was either 1943 or '44.
Bauman: Okay. And your father, was he a cook here also?
Moore: No, no. He'd come out and he was a, as we call them today, rent-a-cop. He was a patrolman out there. And he worked as a patrolman ‘til he retired.
Bauman: And you said that your first job was with General Electric, and what year would that have been?
Moore: About 1953 or 4. Then I went from there, like I say I was in the blueprint sections and all that. And then I had a job—I got a chance to become an engineer's assistant. And then when they were going out and building different things, so that helped me get into the other sections of General Electric and so on. And when that one cut, I transferred into radiation monitoring. And that was when they had the Hanford labs, and the old animal farm was at 100 F Area. So I worked in that group until--I forget what year it was. I'm not good on years and dates. But when they decided they were going to re-tube all of those reactors out there in the hundred areas and so they could put bigger slugs in them and all that stuff, I worked on that until about 1957. And they said, guess what? We're not going to pay you anymore. So I left here. But I stayed with the government job. I went to the Nevada test site and blew all the plutonium up that they made out here. So then I came back to Hanford in 1960. So then I was still in radiation monitoring and worked all kinds of different places, tank farms and everywhere else out there that I could think about.
Bauman: So it sounds like you worked all over the Hanford site.
Moore: All over the Hanford site, that's right, yes, everywhere. And I worked a lot of the times at the burial grounds in 200 West Area. When they would take the big wooden boxes to PUREX and REDOX and they'd fill them. And then they'd pull them up, and they'd put a big long cable on the whole string of cars, and that box was way down that string of cars. And then when they get up to the burial ground, the train and it would coordinate, and they'd pull it back. And as the cable would come around, and when the box got to the trench, the train would stop. And they'd just spin it around and down in a trench. And then we get the honor of riding the bulldozers to set those freights so they could cover them up. That was one of the deals. And the other times I worked in a lot of the tank farms and pulling pumps and putting new bearings in those pumps and all that kind of stuff. It was an experience, believe me.
Bauman: Yeah, I'm sure it was. So a lot of this was with radiation monitoring?
Moore: It was radiation monitoring. And I was in radiation monitoring until 1980-something. And I had a little problem out there, and they wanted me to release some stuff. And I said, uh-uh, not me, it ain't mine. So they said, well we've got this other section over here that you should be in, so I got into the safety part with respiratory protection. And I was trained to repair the breathing air things, like the firemen use. I was trained to do that, fix the PAPRs, and the escape packs, and all that stuff so. And check over places for where they—oxygen levels to where they could go in and work and all that, so that was my last eight years of Hanford, was in the respiratory section I'll call it.
Bauman: And so when did you retire then?
Moore: In 1994.
Bauman: So almost 40 years minus the years that you were with--
Moore: Yeah, yeah. Well as the way I said, when I came back to Hanford in 1960, they told me it was a temporary job, it would probably only last six, eight months. Well, I found out that at Hanford a temporary job is pretty permanent. It only lasted 33 and 1/2 years. It's a temporary job there, so I guess at all turned out pretty good.
Bauman: I guess you could consider that temporary.
Moore: Temporary, yeah. Yeah.
Bauman: So many interesting things that you've worked on. So let's go back to the early years. First, in the 1950s and you talked about radiation monitoring, something with radiation, you did blueprint and stuff, but then radiation monitoring?
Moore: And then radiation monitoring, yeah.
Bauman: Okay, and some of that was with animals? Is that right?
Moore: Well, I went into the animal farm on some certain times, but I wasn't assigned there for anything. The big one I was assigned to was what they called the 558 project, which is when they re-tubed all of the old reactors. And that was, you'd go in and set dose rates for all the people when they're working. And so it was a deal.
Bauman: And now Hanford, of course, is a highly secure site, right, lots of security, secrecy to a certain extent. Can you talk about that at all? I mean, in terms of getting to work or at work, how did that impact you?
Moore: Most of the places where I was, the secure part of it wasn't that strict. But other places like, some of those buildings, yeah, they were really a strict situation. And when I go back a ways, when my dad and we lived in this—I call it the slum house on Totten Street--nobody knew what was happening. Nobody knew. I didn't know what the guy next door was doing, and they didn't know what my dad did. Until I think it was 1944 or '45 when they announced what they were really doing here. And it was kind of a shock, that deal, so. That was my deals of the secrecy out there.
Bauman: Now, did you have to have special security clearance?
Moore: Yes, yes, I did. I had special clearances, yes. I had everything but the very top secret one. And that was real handy because when I left here, I went to the Nevada test site. I had to use the same secret pass. And then the same thing when I come back. It was very, very--what am I trying to say here? I mean, I'm an old guy. I'm just about at the end of the road here. Most of my work, like I say, was the tank farms, and those places, where secrecy was not involved in that. And it was like times when you'd have a spill, you dig it up and prepare it to the burial ground. A lot of that was the work that we did.
Bauman: And you said your first job was at General Electric. Obviously, there are different contractors.
Moore: Yeah.
Bauman: Now, who all did you work for over the years?
Moore: Well, we went to General Electric. Then it went to there was one called Isochem, Rockwell, oh there's a whole slug of them, I can't remember all of them. So it seemed like every time you'd turn around, they were turned over to somebody new. But it was Westinghouse when I decided I would better leave before I had a real problem.
Bauman: So can you talk about what was happening there toward the end that made you want to leave?
Moore: Well, I was, like I say, I was working on the PAPRs and all that kind of stuff. It got to be a real drag, you know. And everybody was doing that then. It got to the point where every time you turned around, everybody was wanting this, and wanting this, and wanting this. You're only one person. And I was a guy that did most all the fixing. So I decided--to my wife, I said--I call her the voice from the other side. She said, what's the matter? And I says, well, before I mess up on one of these pieces of equipment and kill somebody, I think I better retire. So we just decided, okay. And she worked for the Hanford Project, too. And of course she was much better off than I was. She worked for one of the big managers as a secretary. So we just decided that was it. And we had our nest eggs saved up and said, okay, it's retired and we're going to see the world. And we did that until my one eye decides to go bad. Then we had to stop. Other than that, I'd probably been in who knows where.
Bauman: While you were working at Hanford were there any significant events, or sort of, things that have happened that sort of stand out in your mind specifically?
Moore: Yeah, and I was trying to think. It was about 1962, graveyard shift, 233-S, it caught on fire and it burned. And it was a big mess. That's where I wound up with my shot of plutonium in my bones, as I'll say, from that fire. And, of course, back in those days you didn't know what was what, so they worked on it and cleaned it up. And but there's a couple of contamination things that sticks out in my mind. One of them is, we used to bury the material from 300 Area which is, I guess you would call a Westinghouse, Battelle or somebody. And we used to dump them into caissons in the backside of the 234-5 Area. And we had one of those that kind of broke open and messed us up a little bit. Took us maybe six, eight, hours to get cleaned up so we were able to go on our merry way. But those are the only two that really stick out in my mind.
Bauman: Did you miss any amount of work as a result the exposures when you had those?
Moore: Nope. Nope. They just cleaned you up and said go back to work. You all have to remember that back in those days, all of the things that happened in a lot of places, we didn't know. We didn't know what the repercussions was going to be. We didn't know that. Now, this is why we're paying for a lot of stuff right now is because we didn't know how to do all that stuff. But like I say, there's a lot more people that know a lot more about that Hanford stuff than I do. Like I said, it's been many a year since I worked some of those places, too, that I can't remember some of the stuff.
Bauman: Sure, sure. The radiation monitoring group, how large of a group was that? And how many employees do you know, have an idea who worked--
Moore: There was probably about 60 or better. But each company, I think, had a group of their own. The 200 Areas had one big group. The 100 Areas had a group. And then 300 Area had a group, so you put them all together there was probably more than 60-some.
Bauman: Okay, and just to—you said there was a fire in, you think about, 1962. Was it the 200 Area?
Moore: Yep, in the 200, down behind the REDOX Building. That just, poof, was it and it went, so. And I think the reason they had the fire was because somebody had some greasy coveralls and stuff and didn't take care of them the proper way, and the first thing you know, poof, they were on fire.
Bauman: And this was where there was radioactive material?
Moore: Yeah, it was back in the radioactive area, so everything got messed up.
Bauman: And at the time you probably didn't know necessarily everything, but you've had some health problems since then?
Moore: Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Yeah, but I won't say that my health problem is caused by the contamination that I had or was dumped with. I've had quite a few of those. I've had a melanoma cancer in this ear, and I had a very large contamination that got in that ear and area. So I've had to have some surgery done there, skin grafts and that kind of stuff. But so far it hasn't slowed me up.
Bauman: I'm going to shift gears a little bit here. Were you working here in 1963 then when President Kennedy came to?
Moore: Yeah, yeah.
Bauman: And do you remember at all? Were you there that day?
Moore: No. Well, I was on a project that day, but I was not out where he was. I was one of the, I guess how would I say this, the lower steel, so I took care of the work over while everybody went to that. But yeah, I was here. I came back from Nevada on September 13, 1960, and I worked till '94.
Bauman: And then I wanted to ask you a little about Richland. So other than when you first got here, it sounds like you lived in Richland most of the time?
Moore: Yeah.
Bauman: How would you describe Richland as a community at the time, as a place to live?
Moore: It was very good because at that time, when you were there, you didn't even have to worry about locking doors. I mean, everybody was—it just one big thing. It was a government town and everything would deal like that. And nobody really did—didn't have the vandalism or anything like that around town. And as you probably know that, if you're familiar with Fred Meyer’s on Wellsian Way down there, that was a swamp deal, because that was where Richland got their drinking water. Like I said, I lived in 1303 Totten the very first time and then we moved from there down to on Benham Street. And I don't know how to say this, other than the way I normally say that, but that was down where we called the turd churn. That was the sewage plant down there. Then from there I moved back up to Swift. And then in--I was trying to think when it was, 1963 or so, they did away with the old irrigation ditch that came through Richland and goes underneath Carmichael, because that's where they flooded the cattail place down there for the drinking water in Richland, and let it seep down and pump it up. And they busted everything up and back about then I was reading the Villager, I think it was, the Tri-City paper, and there was a lot for sale on Totten Street. So I bought it and went out and looked at it. It was the old irrigation ditch. And I built a house over the old irrigation ditch, and I still live there.
Bauman: And you—when you first arrived you were a child.
Moore: Yeah.
Bauman: What was it like going to school? I'm assuming that there were people from sort of all over, right?
Moore: All over. Yeah. And you just walk to school. And it was, like I say, there was no buses or anything, you could walk to school. And everybody just seemed to fit right in, you know. Nobody had any qualms whether I was from Arkansas or anywhere else. But like I say when the first house there in Richland, Wright Avenue was the last street in town. And beyond that was one of the most fabulous cherry orchards that there was. And when you were a kid you'd slip over in the cherry orchard and get cherries and take them home to your mother. And she could make you some jams, jellies, or whatever pie, or whatever. But it was a deal. There was quite a group of kids that came from all over the country. And they just seemed to fit in, none of this gang thing or anything like that. They were just, everybody was all buddy-buddy, you know?
Bauman: You mentioned you went to, what was then Columbia High School.
Moore: Yeah.
Bauman: How about elementary and middle school?
Moore: And in elementary school when we moved the one that I really remember was Lewis and Clark down on the south end of town. And I went there until one of the, I'll call them students decided to burn it down. And they burnt Lewis and Clark down. And so a lot of us were told to go up to Marcus Whitman and finish off the year up there. So we did that. And then them from there on Carmichael, the junior high, was being built and I think they opened it up at about a mid-year. And I was one of the ones I went there the mid-year into Carmichael and then over to the high school after that.
Bauman: And so what year was that the Lewis and Clark burned down? Was that like in the late '40s then?
Moore: Yeah. But the funny part of it is, not too many years ago they arrested a fellow down in Portland. And he was laughing about burning the building down. So I guess they couldn't do anything to him, but they found out who burned it down now. Yeah. Well, there was Lewis and Clark, Marcus Whitman, Sacajawea which was right there by Central United Protestant Church was the old Sacajawea school. And then there's Jefferson which is still going. And our fabulous people are trying to shut it down, move it, and do something else with it. But who knows what's going to happen.
Bauman: Do you remember when you were growing up and going to school and living here at that time any community events, parades?
Moore: Oh, yeah! Atomic Frontier Days was a big—the big, big thing. I have breakfast with a group of Columbia High graduates and I can't remember what her name is, but she was one of them that used to run for the Queen of Frontier Days. And there was a couple others. But that was the big thing. And they used to take—Howard Amon Park turned into booths, and just like a big fair down there. So it was things, and then all a sudden they decided to move everything around to the Tri-Cities.
Bauman: And was that in the summer?
Moore: Yeah, that was always in the summer, you know. And then the big hydroplane races, they would come in, but they were the old ones that had the 1,200 or 1,300 horse-powered gasoline engines in them, the noise makers. But that was about the extent of the things. And if we go back I can remember the floods came through and when they build all the dikes that they're tearing down now. But I don't think they got to worry about that, being as the dams are still functioning.
Bauman: Do you remember some of the floods?
Moore: Oh yeah, I can remember the flood deals, when they built the road up to going to the Y. They had to build all that up because you didn't get to Kennewick when the flood was on. Well, it was right up to the George Washington Way road there by wherever the guy that has the petrified stumps down there. The water was just across the street from his house, was right up to the edge there.
Bauman: So I want to go back now to Hanford itself and your work experiences there. You talked about some specific things you did and some specific things. How would you describe Hanford as a place to work?
Moore: Hanford was a real good place to work. It was really good work, and good place to work. Mainly I think because you didn't know everything that was going on. So you knew that you had your section, what you were doing, and you didn't want to make waves or something like that. But to me, Hanford was a good place to work. There was a lot of--I had a lot of good friends that came up through the, I call them the ranks. They were, like I worked in the blueprint and there was guys that drove the mail trucks. We wound up as a real knit group of people there. They work out of the old 703 Building, which part of it's still there. And we used to have Coke breaks and go back there. And everybody put a quarter in the pot and then get your Coke bottle. When it was all through whoever had the bottle that was from farthest away got the kitty. So it was a good place to work, really.
Bauman: And I guess is there anything you would like future generations to know about working at Hanford site?
Moore: Well, I would like everybody to know that where this country really screwed up was when we dropped that bomb and blew up everything. We kept everything too secret. They should have let everybody know what that was and what was happening. Today we would have had a better deal of doing what they're doing today if they'd done that, I think. Now that's my opinion and no one else's, but if they would have just let them know what was going on, and what happened, it would have been a lot better.
Bauman: And then is there anything that I haven't asked you about in terms of either your job at Hanford—or jobs, I should say, at Hanford?
Moore: No.
Bauman: Or living in Richland? That I haven't asked you about, that you'd like to talk about?
Moore: No. Like I say, Richland was a good place to live, though, and Hanford was a good place to work. I mean you did your job, and everybody else did theirs, and everything worked out just fine. There's a lot of things that I'm not too sure of what happened. But a lot of those places they did have things when they were doing experiments for the Navy and all kind of stuff out there. But I didn't get in on any of that stuff at all. It was one of those deals, you go in and you dress out, and most the time the monitors were the first ones and the last ones out. So that was the deal.
Bauman: When you did that, did you wear a badge?
Moore: Yeah, TLD, thermoluminescent dosimeter. So you always had a badge on. I understand that some of the guys used to take theirs and set them aside so they wouldn't get too much radiation, so they would be eligible for overtime. But I wasn't into that overtime route.
Bauman: And so how would you know? How did it register that you had too much exposure? How was that read?
Moore: Well they put it into a meter that would read what the thermo was. And the original ones were--what am I trying to say? Film, there was a film. And they would read the film of what, how much had been exposed to that. And that's how they got your dose rates there, how much you took.
Bauman: And did that change at some point to some other method?
Moore: Yeah, they used the film badges to start with. Then they flipped over and they found out they could use these, what did I call them, thermoluminescent detectors, which is you put at charge on them. And I guess the radiation would discharge the charge. So they'll know how much was used off of it. And then you had pencils that you read, that would tell you, that would read if you were supposed to take, let's say, 50 MR. Well you'd set that when you come out, you'd be there and there was always time keepers. There was a time keeper in that group that was taking how much your exposure was, and how long you had been there, and calculating it to when you should get yourself out.
Bauman: And they would let you know that?
Moore: And then they'd tap you on the shoulder and say, go. So then they’d go out. And then there would be somebody out there that would get them undressed and check them, clean them, and make sure they were all, no contamination on them and either send them to lunch or home.
Bauman: And that sort of procedure--
Moore: That procedure.
Bauman: --throughout the time--
Moore: Throughout the whole time I was there, yeah. Yeah.
Bauman: All right. Well thank you very much. I really appreciate your being willing to come in and talk to us. And very interesting--
Moore: Yeah, like to say, there's things out there that my mind just doesn't pick up on them right now. So probably middle of the night at one o'clock, I'll wake up and say, golly, I should have told him this. But no, that's the deal. But really, Hanford was a good place to work and to me, it's been real good to me. I got a good retirement off of it.
Bauman: All right. Well, thank you very much.
Moore: You bet.
Bauman: I really appreciate it.
Moore: You bet. And seeing now that he's got the shut off, I'll tell you about my week. I took my motor home and went to Ilwaco. You know where Ilwaco is on the Columbia River?
Man three: Yeah, okay.
Moore: On the way over there.
Northwest Public Television | Hendrickson_Wally
Robert Bauman: If I'm not talking loud enough, let me know.
Wally Hendrickson: Okay.
Bauman: And if you need to stop to take a drink of water—
Hendrickson: Oh! Okay.
Bauman: Fine, no problem. Whatever.
Hendrickson: Though Hanford wasn't involved, I once went to Vietnam to remove the highly enriched uranium fuel at a research reactor. But that was out of Idaho Falls.
Bauman: Oh, okay. So it wasn't it directly connected to your work at Hanford? Sort of? [LAUGHTER]
Hendrickson: Peripherally, some of the fuel came to the 300 Area and was used in the TRIGA Reactor here for work done on FFTF.
Bauman: I think it would still be interesting to talk about that at some point during the interview. Are we all ready to go?
Man one: Yup.
Bauman: Well let's start by first of all just having you state your name.
Hendrickson: I'm Wally Hendrickson.
Bauman: Okay, great. And my name's Robert Bauman, and we are conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. Today's date is July 30th of 2013. So I thought we could start by first of all just telling me how, when, why you arrived at Hanford.
Hendrickson: It goes way back. My mother's cousin worked here from the early '40s on. And I knew about the reservation because of family visits. But I first came to work here in 1955. I was an engineering student at University of Idaho and got a summer job here with General Electric--that was a contractor at that time--for the summer. Oh, it really suited me. I've been very interested in science and technology all my life. In high school I wrote a paper on disposal of radioactive waste. And I have four engineering degrees. I've really enjoyed technology. And I had the idea--idealistic young fellow [LAUGHTER]--that engineers could do a lot of good for the community.
Bauman: And so what was your--you said you had like a summer job here when you were a college student. What sort of work did you do then?
Hendrickson: Yes, it was for technical people—technical students. And it's to give the student a chance to get an early experience with a large technical organization. And, of course, the managers here would look at the students and wonder if they would want to have them when the students graduate. And I've worked here for one year in 1957 - '58, and I was a tech grad, with a few the listeners may know. At that time, a technical graduate like an engineer, or a physicist, or a mathematician would be given four three-month assignments to work in different areas at the site. And I remember—oh, later for that. I was really pleased at that opportunity. And one of the four three-month assignments I remember so well was water treatment. We treated Columbia River water for its use as cooling water in the breeder reactors—or production reactors, I think they're called—that we had here to make plutonium for weapons. And we cleaned more water than the city of Chicago. And our criterion was solid particles, not dissolved stuff, but little dust things that float around in the river and organic things. And I believe we sought to have the particles no more than 0.01 parts per million. And we had tricks that, I think the rest of the world still hasn't caught on to. [LAUGHTER] After the normal type treatment-- Is this dragging on too technical?
Bauman: No this is interesting, keep going.
Hendrickson: Well, most municipal water treatments were much like ours, except ours was really jazzed up. And they'd put in a chemical that would form a flock. It looks like a tiny piece of cotton floating in the water. And when it forms it readily picks up some dissolved material, but particularly particulate material. And that would settle when the water flowed through a very, very large swimming pool. And then water would go to filters. And they were really fancy filters. I wonder if the rest of the world has caught up with that technology. And we'd add Separan, which was like Lucite, a polyacrylamide, which would give a particle in water with a number of valences so it would attract particulates and enmesh them. And they would settle out or be filtered out. And I was able to work with two really great guys. One was a lawyer. [LAUGHTER] He'd minored in chemistry in law school, and graduated during the Depression, when you couldn't buy a lawyer's job, so he taught chemistry in high school. And there was a law, whose name I don't know, that enabled the government to essentially draft people with skills critical to the war effort. And he first went to a munitions plant, and then here. And I remember he set out to educate me. [LAUGHTER] He told me about the first breach of promise suit in America; that was during colonial times. Where a man died, his life agreed to marry the neighbor, and then thought that oh it's too soon. And he sued her for breach of promise, and was given property from her. That's because in those days it wasn't thought quite proper for women to have property in their name. So he actually lost something.
Bauman: So what was this lawyer's name, this man's name? That you were--
Hendrickson: I can't remember now. He was big, and I think he died in the '70s. And I talked to his wife when I came back here in the '80s, and she said he remembered me and would talk about me.
Bauman: So that was one of the four areas you worked during your--
Hendrickson: No, that was a full time employee. But I was a tech grad during that time and three months in water treatment. Oh, and another very interesting assignment was looking at the water of the river--or rather, looking at the contamination that mostly the cooling water for the reactors would contribute to the Columbia River. And one bit of--I guess it's a biological thing—that amazed me, phosphorus-32 would be made by fast reactor, fast neutrons, on the aluminum cooling pipes in the reactor tubes. And it would produce phosphorus-32. I think I'm mixed up here. I'm not sure what the target was, but anyway it would get into the water and algae would pick it up--hungry. They're hungry for phosphorus. And the concentration of phosphorus on a weight basis of the algae is 300,000 times what was in just the water. And my colleagues, they would say, well, what does that mean? How is it does it affect health? And they found that whitefish--if they didn't eat the algae, they ate something that had eaten the algae. And it would get into their bones. Now, when you eat whitefish, you usually don't eat the bones, but they didn't calculate—they didn’t take that into consideration. And they knew that some people fished quite a bit out of the Columbia and feed their family the fish. So they calculated what this exposed people to. And if they fished all through the year, and ate all of the fish and ate the bones, they would be getting close to limits for nonprofessional radiation workers. And I was really surprised when I heard about people saying the information regarding exposure of citizens was kept secret, because the very year I was here, '57-'58, the Public Health Service studied radioactivity in the Columbia River and wrote a report, and I had a copy of that report.
Bauman: So were levels of phosphorus sort of the main finding from the work you did in terms of the possible impact on—
Hendrickson: Yes, though I believe some aquatic worm at the mouth of the Columbia would pick up cobalt-60. And they were hot. Of course, people don't eat the worms. And I don't know if the fish do or not. There was so much work to study what became of the radioactive materials in the effluent, and what kind of hazard that was. And I remember—I'm sort of a chemist too. I remember reading the reports of the radiochemists about the techniques they developed and applied to analysis of radioactivity in the water—either effluent or the river itself. There are people that got to go up and down in a motorboat catching fish for some of this. [LAUGHTER] But much of the radioactive analysis had to come after quite a bit of chemical separation. A lot of things will get radioactive. And if you try to count a dry sample, it would be impossible to distinguish between those radioactive material, or nearly so. And they would use standard inorganic chemistry to separate different isotopes. And this place ran 24/7, and they liked to keep close track of the effluent, so they would build automatic systems to sample and automatically go through the chemical separations. If you've ever been in a hospital that has their own lab, you'll see big machines that are just amazing at being able to analyze for different organic chemicals in the blood. It's all automated. Nowadays, it just comes out printed on a sheet, sounds easy. But there was a time when it was very laborious.
Bauman: Do you know if there were any changes made to any procedures in terms of water after the results of phosphorus and that sort of thing?
Hendrickson: Well, changes--now I don't think there were many. They did they spend a lot of time finding out what was in the effluent, and what it would do to people. And my recollection is it that it was quite a ways away from any limit, any conservative limits that we operated from. I had heard, though, that the water treatment plant at Kennewick in those days filtered out radioactive particles. And if one went over to the filter bed—I suppose this is after the water's gone down—with a Geiger counter, it was quite radioactive. That was in 1957. Yeah, let's see. Oh! Yeah, this is embarrassing. My bosses said, well, some reactors are better than others in reducing phosphorus-32 material, why is that? Is it a function of the water treatment? So I was set out to set up one reactor. It had split water supply systems. So one reactor ran as normal, and the other half of the reactor ran a little dirtier. And we ran it for quite a while. Stuff builds up on the tubes, fine particles. If you see something in a pond, you might—well, certainly you'll see algae growing on it, but you might see accumulated clay particles. And then we purged the reactor. We ran in diatomaceous earth, which is nearly pure silica from little diatoms, the bodies of little diatoms. And that would scour the fuel elements. And this is done periodically to keep the amount down that we generated. And we took samples, then, during the purge, and they didn't make sense. And a couple weeks before that, I'd gotten some records from an accountant who was stationed over at the coal fired plant that generated steam. And I told him I need to see these records, and this is why. And he says, well, but there is no correlation like you suggest. And I got the records, and yeah, there was no correlation. [LAUGHTER] And my bosses had to admit that they didn't realize that. I suppose they'd gotten some idea during a short period of time that wasn't typical.
Bauman: So, how long as a whole did you work at Hanford, and what other areas did you work in?
Hendrickson: Well after '57, I started a doctoral program in physical chemistry at Washington State University. It was a very difficult time for me. Let's see, we had gotten a raise as teaching assistants there, up to $200 a month. And I had a bachelor's and master's in chemical engineering. So I didn't have as much chemistry as the other graduate students. It would pretty hard. And I kind of washed out, partly for financial reasons, and took a full time job at the research reactor in Pullman. Now it's called Harold Dodgen Radiation Center is the name. And he was a wonderful man--full professor of both chemistry and physics. Wonderful man, and so well trained. He was from Berkeley, as were some of the other faculty that I had. Well, I eventually got another master's in nuclear engineering and a PhD in engineering science. And then I came here for six months as a summer prof, they call them.
Bauman: So what year would this have been?
Hendrickson: That was in '71—July of '71. I came and unloaded my earthly possessions on a day that was 113 degrees. Oh! When I went to Pullman, I left the 13th of September, and the heat wave had not yet broken. And to that date, we had had 100 days above 90, and 30 days above 100. That was before anything like air conditioning in buses was thought of for [LAUGHTER] the people that worked here. Yeah, I would be away from home 11 and a half hours a day, be picked up by a shuttle bus that would deposit me at the big bus lot and then take a big bus out to wherever. And it was a toss-up of whether we should have the windows open or have the windows closed, because the air was so hot.
Bauman: As so what were you working on then?
Hendrickson: The four tech grad assignments. And I've spoken of two—water treatment, and another looking at the radiation impact on the Columbia River. And then I worked with the group that--they called them material and processes. And when something had to be done--a lot of things fell in that category—and they would finish up engineering if it were a new piece of equipment. And then see to procurement. Or they would work on a better decontamination material. When something gets into the contaminated water, the contamination will absorb onto the surface and stay there. And to get it off, you have to do some pretty strong chemistry. And [LAUGHTER] I've seen car loads of decontaminating reagents laying out in the sun, and I'd go test them. It's amazing what industry--Turco was a supplier of these decontaminating chemicals. And they would send us batches of new stuff that they'd worked up. Then we would test them here with our contaminants, and we give the results to them. But they wouldn't tell us what was in the samples they had given us. And I thought that was kind of a dirty trick. And then, I remember one fellow was working on epoxies. And I'd used epoxies at the research reactor in Pullman, so I knew something about that and thought it was interesting. Now there's a fourth one, but I can't remember what it was. Well, after I finished the doctorate, I came here for six months and then had two and a half year postdoc at the Naval Ordinance Laboratory. Then I worked at Idaho Falls at the chemical reprocessing plant and got run out of there and came to the DOE at Hanford for 20 more years—ten years with FFTF and ten years with the radioactive waste tanks. The waste coming from reprocessing fuel--reprocessing to recover the plutonium. And for a while, they were recovering the uranium, because we had huge quantities here that they wanted to use. They would put it back into service at another reactor. When I was here for six months as a summer prof--excuse me. That was really challenging, and when it was all over, I finally realized that what they had done was given me the unsolved problems of 17 years of operation. And it was daunting. One thing I worked out with caveman techniques—no computer, [LAUGHTER] nothing like that. But I had to know the chemistry used to separate CCM and strontium from the radioactive waste. And they were separated and put in a different place at high concentration. And then, those long half-lived isotopes, fission products, would not be in the humongous million-gallon tanks of waste. And they can use ion exchange resins to take out strontium. It's harder to do cesium, but they could do that, too.
Bauman: What years would this have been that you were working on this stuff with the tanks and so forth?
Hendrickson: Well in '71 as a summer prof, I did six months. And then, when I came back in '80--I came back to Hanford in '80, and I worked through the end of the century. The last ten years I worked on the tanks and the tank farms. Because of my technical interests, I would often get safety issues and the documentation that money is spent on in great quantities at facilities like this--environmental and safety documents. What was your question again?
Bauman: Oh, my question was just about the time period that you were working on the [INAUDIBLE].
Hendrickson: Oh, time period. Yeah. It was in the '70s. And at the post-doc at the Naval Ordnance Laboratory. I worked for a man that had been extracting and measuring cesium in natural waters. That means in a lake, a river, in the coastal waters, and up, I want to say Kamchatka. There's a string of islands that go from Western Alaska down, almost to the Siberian coast. And a lot of bombs had been tested in the atmosphere, and the fission products go up. They absorb on bomb casing material and sand and whatever happens to be for it to absorb on. And then it falls into natural waters. And the government, through its various agencies, keeps a track—kept monitoring this. And my mentor at the ordnance lab had been following cesium. And the sodium, potassium--oh my goodness, what's next? I want to say--it's been a long time since I had a chemistry course. They're very difficult to remove from anything. They don't readily form insoluble products. But there are a few compounds that can be precipitated from an aqueous solution to a salt that's insoluble that will take out some of these very soluble ions. And for cesium--cesium was a third one. Below sodium is lithium. If they mix a solution of nickel chloride, nickel sulfate, with a solution of sodium or potassium ferrocyanide, a precipitate will form. It'll be nickel ferrocyanide. And it starts with a couple of these getting together, and then some more bump into them, and more and more, until you get a real crystal. Well, when this goes on, the cesium is picked up, just as if it were a sodium. No, that's not right. It gets into the crystal structure. It's a foreign body, but it is incorporated into the crystal structure. And it's really a good extractor. It sucks up cesium to a very low concentration level. Well, then they can filter that out, and the cesium, as I said before, doesn't go to the big, million-gallon tanks. And that was good. We liked to keep track of our radioisotopes. Now these waste tanks, million-gallon waste tanks, everything goes in there. It's a dog's breakfast of processed chemicals and some things that shouldn't be in there. Now, as a kid, I knew about black gunpowder—potassium nitrate and sulfur and charcoal. And I knew how it would explode. Well, our tanks are chock-full of nitrates, which give off oxygen for the burning of sulfur and charcoal. It's an explosive, and a good one. Well, there you've got this oxidizing agent in huge quantities. And you've got nickel ferrocyanide intimately mixed with this oxidizer. And the cyanide radical is a carbon and a nitrogen. And carbon gives off a lot of energy when it's oxidized with CO2 or CO. So people would naturally wonder what might happen. And people study it, and people write papers on it, and senators say, oh my god, you find out what's going to happen! So they had a $25 million program to find out what happens in this mixture of oxidizer and ferrocyanide. And they assigned it to me. I had published in the area of cesium extractants and knew something about the chemistry. [LAUGHTER] And before I got very far into it, I tried to find out what was known about it. And there are guys here they call the graybeards. It was a senior process chemist. And they had thought it over and decided it's safe if it's wet. So that was in the back of my mind. And you may know about the—what is that? Committee? Nuclear facility safety committee, I think. Really smart guys, cream of the crop that really know their sciences. And they were set to looking at the government's nuclear facilities, because there were a lot of noise--horrible things are going to happen or have happened and the government's covered it over, that sort of thing. Well, that became one of their concerns. So, I've worked in civil service all of my life. I say I've never had an honest job. When problems come up and our government says that there's a problem, and we got to fix it, then a bunch of people are gotten together as part of a bureaucracy, and they take care of it. A lot of times, after that problem's gone, they still take care of things. But a very capable--Westinghouse at this time--man, and I can't remember his last name, Jim. He's a PhD physicist. He wrote up a program to thoroughly study this issue. And it was just talk what this National Committee wanted--that kind of approach. So we did five years of really good chemistry. And at the end, well, we proved that if it's kept wet, it's safe. But more importantly, we learned that the cyanide is decomposed. It's a rather energetic substance and readily reacts with other things. So it's not a cyanide anymore. And it's soluble in water, it's in the salt cake. Well that was a fun time. And I quickly learned that, okay, what is needed to satisfy the committee is to do good science. And by doing that, we may very well find a solution. And then the contractor and I had to close these issues. I think there were four or five reports we had to write to convince people that we have conscientiously studied and assessed the hazard and then state what remnant hazard there is, and get their buy off, and then I could go do something else. So there's a lot of management or bureaucratic processes that bedevil the technical manager nowadays.
Bauman: Mm-hm. During that time when you were working at the tanks, were there any problems with leaking or any of that sort of thing at that point?
Hendrickson: Oh, that and another things. [LONG PAUSE] I'm kind of uncomfortable talking about some of that, because there are people screaming the sky is falling! And there are some real problems, all right. [LAUGHTER] But throwing them into public conferences is kind of difficult. But it'll be handled with bureaucratic methods. And I--[LAUGHTER] when people say all things are terrible at Hanford, I say not to worry, there are plenty of hardworking taxpayers. And I'm afraid that they take it in the neck many times. But then, what is done out here in the cleanup is just amazing. I have always been concerned about radiation on health. And, of course, the bureaucratic approach, which worked very well--the health physics people here—Parker, an amazing man. What was done in radiation protection here at Hanford was first class, and, I think, very conscientious. I've heard about the very earliest limits of radiation exposure. At the time we started fissioning here, started the reactors operating, most of the data came from radiation therapy given to people, usually for cancer, but other problems as well. And the radium dial painters--do you know what that is?
Bauman: Mm-hm, yeah.
Hendrickson: People would get watches and clocks with radium mixed with the phosphorus, so it would glow. It glows all time, but you can see it in the dark. And they would be painted in, and the ladies that did that had little artist paint brushes. And they'd dip it in. And if they had to make a fine line, they would put it in their lips and rotate it. And died horribly from--radium's chemistry is like calcium, it goes to the bone. And it's a bad way to go. But they started out from that level. And I think they were very rational and very conservative. Since '44, we've learned a great deal, and we've lowered the limits.
Bauman: You mentioned earlier that you spent a period of time working at FFTF.
Hendrickson: Yes.
Bauman: I was wondering if you would talk about that a little bit at all? What sort of work you did there, and your experiences in that work?
Hendrickson: Bear in mind that in World War II, there were a number of things that were very useful and high technology. And America developed them and used them, and they contributed significantly to the successful outcome from our viewpoint, anyway, of the Second World War. And, of course, radar is one, sonar. I lost my train of thought. [LAUGHTER] Just a minute. Of course, I think the power levels of our early, primitive, first-built production reactors was up in several thousand megawatts of heat released. They were pretty big reactors. And people in the know said, that's a lot of power. Can we use it to power submarines that would not have to come up except for food and water, and could be submerged for a month? Well, smart guys in the Navy and the Atomic Energy Commission made it happen. And very soon, they had prototype power reactors online making electricity, putting it into the grid. And according to the cost estimates of the time, it would be very economical to produce power that way. And a lot of utilities got into that. And big companies like Westinghouse and Combustion Engineering, Babcock and Wilcox, and GE made power reactors and sold them, and they were run in this country and largely were very successful. And so people say well, let's look at the slope of this line. And by, I think it was the year 2000, we're going to have 1,000 big power reactors operating. And that's going to eat up the world's known supply of uranium. What will we do then? And, of course, a physicist said well, you can breed plutonium, and it makes a fine fuel for power reactors. And they proved that. And FFTF was a big part of the technology developed. And because of this projection, they made decisions in the late '60s—projections of 1,000 power reactors being used in America in the year 2000. In the late '60s, the Atomic Energy Commission committed itself to developing breeder reactors and started a really smart program to get the kind of knowledge necessary to use that kind of a reactor system. And for generations, the electric power generation in America had been increasing 7% a year. And people that we never give a thought to had seen to having that power available for us. And they put reactors in. They thought reactors were good, and safe, and economical. Well, the FFTF was kind of the last of the great efforts along this line. And they were going to build a demonstration plant at—not Chalk River. That's Canada. Do you recall that—?
Bauman: No.
Hendrickson: Well, they were going to build a prototype. It means a big, nearly full sized reactor. And the lead time on some of the stuff, sometimes the lead time is three or four years just to get billets to run through the rolling mills of a special alloy needed. So there was a lot of planning going on and ordering components. And the Arabs don't like our politics in the Middle East. And cut off delivery of oil, the price went way up. I'd heard that the cost of oil at a seaport in Saudi Arabia cost $0.25 a barrel, because it's so easy to drill, and it's easy to get out. And you can plan ahead on things like that. But our growth rate just, phew, and growth rate of electrical demand went down. And I don't know where it stands now, but the whole world went through [LAUGHTER] a technological crisis when that happened. And we had kind of a recession in this country. And a lot of the industry did not build in anticipation of growth. And they stopped building reactors. They finished the ones that were being built. And this projection of meeting 1,000 reactors in 2000 was way off. I think we've had around 200 power reactors. I'm not sure, something like that. But we kept this program going in spite of economic changes and projected electrical demand changes. Though what we did here was wonderful science. The Japanese just shook their heads when we decided to shut down FFTF. In their country, they don't do things like that. They should have run FFTF until the wheels fell off, because we'll need that data some time. And the materials development that took place at FFTF is just amazing. I have thought of NASA as doing wonderful things with science, and big projects that cost billions. But I think what was done here in fuel and materials developments is of that quality and that nature and being a very big effort.
Bauman: Let me ask you, during your working at Hanford—the different times you worked here—what you see as your biggest rewards working here and maybe your biggest challenges.
Hendrickson: Well, [LAUGHTER] certainly from my standpoint, a wild technologist, I appreciated that technical experience they were great things done here. And it's easier, just off the top of the head, it's easier for me to say the benefits I got. And I got to go to work in very large, very focused management systems. And I saw quite a bit of development of the individual engineers. The contractors were good at that, at least when we had long-term missions. Well, of course, in the early days when plutonium was the product, I didn't have any qualms about that. I kind of trusted of the government to be halfway humane if it were used in war. But at some point, I realized the system was crazy. The CIA in 1972 said that--I think it was '72, in a newspaper clipping I read--that we had more bombs at that time than we would ever use in a war. And we just kept producing until the environmentalists used the environmental regulations to shut down the production facilities. The CIA was dead right about having all we needed. And bureaucracies, once they get started, are self-fulfilling.
Bauman: You just mentioned the shift from production to clean up. Obviously, the mission changed. And you were here during both phases, I guess. I wonder, can you talk about how that shift impacted your work at all, or changes you saw as a result of that sort of change in mission?
Hendrickson: Well, the turnaround of the mission occurred before I got here in '80. It was thought--when I got here, we were deep into clean-up. When I worked as a summer prof in '71, I talked to the old timers. And they told me this one tank level goes up and goes down--up and down on a rather regular basis. And they didn't know why. I had no idea why. And now we know very well. I think we spend around $100 million getting that knowledge. And it was touted as a great incipient disaster. We're going blow those tanks up and blow that waste all over. So it was known, and it wasn't worried about at one point. People do get complacent, I guess. But then again they sited these facilities out in this unpopulated desert. Some people from the east--when they came out here--they come to the airport and get in town, and then they have to drive 55 miles out to the facility. Most of the world doesn't think that way. So we built in great depth of protection in simply where we sited it. One thing that they did--they released huge quantities, industrial quantities of carbon tetrachloride that was used in extraction and cleanup of plutonium. And they released it to the ground. I think there were thousands of gallons. And that's not smart to do that sort of thing. We released radioactive streams to the ground that were very, very, very low in radioactivity. And I don't worry about that sort of thing. It's not going to lead to any harm—in Wally's opinion. But some things [LAUGHTER] that they found out there are really amazing. These old timers that worked around the tank farm said they would throw radioactive tools, dirty, contaminated tools down in the tanks, and they would throw radioactive machines that they didn't want any more down in the tanks. This is just hearsay. [LAUGHTER] And the tanks whose level would rise and low were studied. I think it was around $100 million. They found out that there were radiolytic gases given off, and gases given off by chemical reactions. Even after decades in the tank, still going on. Well some of the gas attaches itself to particles so it doesn't bubble to the top. And that heavy sediment at the bottom gets lighter, and lighter, and lighter, and then it rises up and goes to the surface. And the gas bubbles expand, and they break. And you've got explosive gases in the tank. Well, guys told me that some of the fellas would like a match and drop it down the tanks, and light a piece of paper and let it float down into the tanks and go, woof! That's not firsthand information. [LAUGHTER] But people sure can get worked up about things.
Bauman: Security and secrecy are sort of always connected with Hanford. I wonder if you could talk about that all in terms of maybe the first time you were here in the 1950s--did you have a special clearance at all, and did security, secrecy change at all from the time you were here in the '50s--you were here later in the '80s?
Hendrickson: That's a subject I have strong feelings about. I think they did a very good job. And I trust their judgment that it was necessary. Yeah, it was part and parcel of living in Richland. I was told at one time, you had to have a security clearance to live in the town of Richland. And I think there a lot of the old timers here. I believe Richland has a very low crime rate, a carryover from those times, I think. People that they wouldn't give a security clearance to lived someplace else. They didn't come here. Of course, I was young, and what's the word? Impressionable. And I saw all of the guards and had a badge and would flash it. It got so when I'd go to a grocery store, I'd take my badge out. [LAUGHTER] Nuclear weapons kill people by the hundreds of thousands, or millions for the big hydrogen bombs. And we wouldn't want the technology, or bomb material, or the bomb itself in the hands of people that we don't want to have it. And when you think of the consequences of failure in the security area, you realize why they are so thorough. Now the rules are thought out carefully by experienced people. And the rules are pretty well written out. And people are able to follow those rules. So I think we owe a lot to the safeguards and security programs that have been part of this world.
Bauman: I wonder if you could talk about, overall, your thoughts on Hanford as a place to work.
Hendrickson: I was surprised when I came as an undergraduate at how happy the people were with the Tri-cities. They liked it. I'd come from mountainous timber land. [LAUGHTER] Being out here in this sandbox was something different. I think people like it here. As a technical guy, I was glad I was in this environment. I think the Richland Police Department is a couple notches above the average. I think that's a carry-over from the effort made in this area by the Manhattan Project. One bad thing about Hanford is that it would have economic ups and downs, really severe ones. And a number of times in my experience here, I've seen weeds growing in cracks in the sidewalks and closed businesses. It looks like we'll have a good economy here, this handling the cleanup is going to take decades. And I think they even haven't planned too much for the very end.
Bauman: Before we started recording, you were talking earlier--you mentioned something you had worked on during the Vietnam War. I know it's not directly related to Hanford, but I wondered if you might want to talk about that a little bit more.
Hendrickson: Well, there was a connection with Hanford. After I left that post-doc at the Naval Ordnance Lab, I worked at Idaho Falls with the Atomic Energy Commission, within a group that looked after the fuel reprocessing plant. And we would call it the chemical plant. And after I'd been there about a year, a message came from headquarters that they wanted volunteers to go to Vietnam to take out the highly enriched uranium that fueled a TRIGA-type reactor at Da Lat in South Vietnam. And they wanted people with health physics and TRIGA-reactor experience. Now I'd worked on a TRIGA reactor for ten years, and kind of by that a lightweight health physicist. And my buddy was a GS-14 health physicist at Idaho Falls. And he had been president of the western section of the—let’s see—the Health Physics Society. So he and I talked and said, yeah, we'll volunteer. And we were the only volunteers out of about 20,000 AEC people. When I worked at the radiation center in Pullman, I chummed around with a lot of the graduate students and post-docs. I really enjoyed that. And one of them developed into a friendship. He was a Vietnamese physicist trained at the University of Saigon. And some of their degrees are taken as the same level as the Sorbonne degrees in France at that time. And he worked on a nuclear engineering master's program. And he was earmarked to return to work at the reactor that was being built. It was quite a complex--they even had their independent power--diesel electric generator. Well, he wanted to stay for a doctorate in radiochemistry and started on that, but his country demanded he come back. And he worked at the reactor. And he and I corresponded. And he told me about meeting a small pharmacienne—I guess that's the technical—the feminine form of pharmacist in French. And I'd hear about his courtship and had a baby. And then he didn't answer my letters. And when I was in the DC area at the Naval Ordnance Lab, I called the Vietnam embassy, and the man I got had been my friend's boss at the reactor. And Ti was dead—La Banh Ti. And I'd learned about his experience- - he, and his wife, and his little girl Christine had gone up to Hue, where Ti's father lived for the Chinese New Year. That's a real big thing in Asia. Well, of course, that was in the time of the Tet Offensive. And Hue was overrun, including the citadel. And the American and Vietnamese forces eventually pushed them back. Ti had been seen by some of the Viet Cong, and one fellow knew him and fingered him. And he was taken as prisoner to a park and kept there. And after the Viet Cong realized they'd better retreat, the prisoners were taken out to the edge of the city and put in a ditch and shot, which isn't as bad as it might be, because sometimes they would douse them with gasoline and light it. Well I knew about the reactor in Da Lat from my association with Ti. And we--John Horan and I--John died probably 20 years ago--he was an airman in the Second World War. We said, yeah, we'll go. And that was sent back to Washington. That was Friday. And I went with a scout group up in the hills outside of Idaho Falls. And I'd made two toboggan-like things out of old skis with the seat on it, and the boys played with that. I went hiking, and I came across a pregnant doe. And I followed the tracks. I heard the noise, and I realized eventually that it was a pregnant doe, so I broke off. But I was doing that on the weekend. And Monday I took flight for Vietnam. And I didn't have a passport. So we made arrangements for special treatment with a passport office in San Francisco. [LAUGHTER] It was a hassle. The guy that was supposed to take care of that detail had gone to a dentist and not told anyone. When Horan got back, he wrote a bad letter to that guy's boss. But we got it. We finally got it--we got a visa from the Vietnamese and flew over--that's a long flight. And we were met at the airport by the first secretary--political military. He was a career department of state man. I think he's still alive. He's in his mid-90s. Just a first class person. Well the first thing he did when he recognized us was remind us that we were volunteers. It went downhill from there. We were to go up in a small plane just to reconnoiter, see what conditions were at the reactor. And, let's see--that must have been a four-seater. There were four of us that went up. Jay Blowers was his name. What was it--Air America, run by the CIA. And I couldn't see the compass--I sat in the back. But I could tell the direction by the sun. Instead of flying from Saigon north-northeast to Da Lat, we went directly east out over the South China Sea, and then north-northeast, and then directly west. And when I'd figured that out, I said why? And they said, well, the Viet Cong has very respectable anti-aircraft capability between those two cities. And I thought, okay. But when we got there--I think it's at 5,000 plus feet, and it's a wonderful place after you've been down at sea level in the tropics. And the French used it—developed it as a vacation area. And there was a college there, and a school for noncommissioned officers. And I saw all kinds of agriculture—oh, yeah, there was an agricultural school of some kind. Well, we came to an area that was nothing but clouds. And there were mountain peaks around. And we went round, and round, and round, trying to find a hole. And we were just about to the point where we would have to leave because we only had enough gas to make it back to Saigon. And the pilot saw a hole, and he went shoo! like that and leveled. And we were going straight towards a mountain. He went shoo! like that. And there was a landing field and plopped down on the field. It was so fast, I didn't get to react. I wasn't used to that kind of flying. Well we found the reactor in very good condition. And they had a fork truck which wasn't in good condition, and we needed a fork truck to lift shipping containers. The ones we got were brought by air from Bethesda Naval Hospital in DC. And they were 55 gallon drums. And they had a pipe--an ordinary plumber's type pipe. It was kind of big, though. Must've been six inches. And there were some lead around it. And then concrete around that. And they were pretty heavy. So we needed heavy handling equipment. And they had a bridge crane. Now, a lot of research reactors are built like this one, which is that in a round building, straight walls, and then a dome. And there's a ridge up at the top that a crane—polar crane, I think they call them—goes like this. And they had some problem with it, but they said it would work. And the water was in excellent condition, though they had shut it down since '68. The head of the reactor, the manager became a close friend, and he has died. You know this was in '75, March of '75. This is interesting; Wally did something smart--two things smart. When we were in Saigon, we quickly went over to the Vietnamese atomic energy office and said we're from the government, and we're here to help you. And we’d gotten sign off by the political type that was over such things as research. And we said we want your help, we want to go up and see what's there, and what we need to get the fuel out. And how hot is the fuel, stuff like that. Of course, they didn't know, because they hadn't fooled with it for seven years. And they had shut it down. I thought whenever, in the nuclear field, they do something like that, they write a safety report. So I asked, do you have a safety report? May I see it? And in the report, typically they do the thought experiment of, well what happens if the fission products are dispersed in the air, the whole bunch. And so I saw that they had figured out the amount of cesium and strontium. Those are the long half-lived elements. They wouldn't have gone down a little bit in seven years. They had that all worked out. And I said, well, from that amount of so many curies, at this distance, you'd get this dose rate. But we'll only take out one fuel element time--piece of cake. It's no problem. But anyway, we took out a fuel element, because we wanted to survey it. And Horan had bought our emergency response box. We had dosimeters and radiation instruments--some of them we got from Berkeley. I don't know how that was arranged. And we would take the fuel out with a long hose that had a gripper at the end. The TRIGA had a little post sticking up that was sort of arrow shaped, and a neck. And metal--a mechanical thing on this garden hose went on that post and clamped onto the neck. And we'd pull it to the surface. And that particular hose system had a history of dropping the fuel elements. So we immediately grabbed the fuel element in the bare hand and disconnected it. And a guy over there, about eight feet, would read it with a G-M tube. That's what this case was. Well the guy with serving instrument was down on the steps a ways. And he walked up, which also brings him closer. And we could hear the count rate--zeeeeee. And it stops. And people experienced with high sources and G-M tubes know [LAUGHTER] that it's saturated, and it's really hot, and you better get away. And Horan says oh, we got a divide by ten thing. We'll put that on it. Well, the thing that goes bad in counting the radioactivity is in the Geiger tube itself. So the divide by ten was useless. And we got--I said, well, let's just stand back farther. [LAUGHTER] And we got a good reading, a valid reading. That tickled me, that the Idaho health physicist hadn't picked up on the instrumentation they had for emergencies. Well let's see, I guess this might have been the second trip up there. But anyway, there was a little fence around the grounds and a guard's house at the entrance, and a lean-to made of bamboo on the side. And a family was living under that lean-to. And they had several children--one was really small. And I talked to them, and they didn't know English, but I talked to them anyway. And the little girl had--I don't know if they call it harelip, but anyway her two front teeth were growing on jawbone that was in front of her lip. And wars are expensive, and a lot of things are neglected because of that. I really hate to see war anyplace. Problems like that can be dealt with so easily. But I had some time, and I offered to give the children a tour through the reactor. I guess the guard spoke enough English. So I took them, and pointed to the crane and pointed to this great—oh dear, the reactor was in a silo-like concrete shield with water. And then we climbed a step up to the top. But anyway, I pointed to different things, and then I took them into the chem labs, and there was a model of the reactor. And I said--oh, see that reactor out here? Here's a model. And the oldest girl, you could just see her face light up. She understood, and she explained to the kids what it was. Well, then we went back to Saigon. And communicated with headquarters—Atomic Energy Commission headquarters. I found out that this was handled at a very high level. The White House decided who was going to pay for the recovery, and an Air Force general was given responsibility for transportation. And an AEC fellow course handled the AEC part. And I've met him.
Bauman: And the connection to Hanford was--
Hendrickson: Well. Oh! Oh yeah--do you have time? I can tell more about actually moving the fuel.
Bauman: Just a little more, yeah.
Hendrickson: Well, we got the fuel out. The C-130 was overloaded, and we didn't know it. And the airport runway was on top of a hill, and we had to fight off people that wanted to take refuge in our plane and be taken out to the south. And the plane was backed up. And the engine revved up as high as it'll go with the brakes on, and then the brakes are released. And it starts out about like a baby buggy, just rumbling along and the engines are straining. And it did pick up speed, but at this time I could see out the pilot's window, and we didn't so much take off as we ran out of runway and there were farmhouses outside the wings. And we got back. And then these heavy casks were loaded on a different kind of airplane--C-141, and taken to Johnson Island, and then to the States. And some of the elements came here to Hanford and were used in the FFTF complex for experimental work. And I met the director of that reactor. He is a good man.
Bauman: Now, that's quite a story. Are there any—beginning to wrap up here--anything I haven't asked you about or anything you think is important to talk that we haven't talked about yet?
Hendrickson: Anything else I think might be important?
Bauman: Yeah, that I haven't asked you about or that we haven't talked about yet that you'd like to say sort of briefly here at the end?
Hendrickson: Oh, there are a number of things--I probably could think a little bit. Maybe I'll make some notes and contact you.
Bauman: And we could always schedule another,
Hendrickson: If it seems worthy, I'll contact you.
Bauman: Okay. I want to thank you a lot for coming in today. I really appreciate you sharing your memories and your experiences.
Hendrickson: Yeah. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: All right.
Northwest Public Television | Gilles_Madeleine
Robert Bauman: My name's Robert Bauman, and I'm conducting an oral history interview with Madeleine Gilles. And this is July 2nd of 2013. The interview's being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And I'll be talking with Madeleine Gilles about her family's history, her years growing up in Richland. So let's start with that, if we could. If you could tell me about how and when, why your family came to Richland. Anything about when and why they came here.
Madeleine Gilles: Well, they came from Montana--Butte. I was about a year and a half old I think. And I guess they wanted to change from a miner to a farmer. And he was from--
Bauman: Croatia it looked like.
Gilles: Croatia, yes. And my mother was American.
Bauman: What were your parents' names?
Gilles: What?
Bauman: What were your parents' names?
Gilles: Mr. Patricia and John Serdar.
Bauman: Okay.
Gilles: S-E-R-D-A-R.
Bauman: And did you have any brothers or sisters?
Gilles: I had two sisters which are a year and eight or nine months between the three of, you know.
Bauman: Mm-hm, okay. And so when you came to Richland, did you have a farm?
Gilles: I don't know how he came by a farm, but I know that he had 10 acres on a flat. And my mother's father, my grandfather, lived up on a little hill above us. It's now out at, behind that Richland airport.
Bauman: Okay. That's where the land was?
Gilles: Yes. It's still fenced off. There's nothing on it. [LAUGHTER] And it was by the irrigation ditch where we lived on the hill part. And the irrigation ditch had that flume across the little bitty gully onto downtown Richland.
Bauman: And you used irrigation water on farm?
Gilles: From that. Yes. They had weirs that went out to the fields and filled up. And you could water from there. They built little wooden waterways to where they wanted it, and then they'd have rails. And they'd flood the rails and then move it on to the next part of the field until they got it watered. And the ditch riders came by and kept watch on wherever it come out from the irrigation ditch. I forgot what they called those. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: What kind of crops did you have?
Gilles: We had alfalfa and a big garden and strawberries and grapes and raspberries. So we were busy. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And did you have any animals on the farm?
Gilles: Oh, yes. We had about ten cows. And they pastured over where the golf course is now. Oh, I forget the name of it. It's a pony. [LAUTHER]
Bauman: [INAUDIBLE]
Gilles: Horse name. Anyway there's a golf course down there now.
Bauman: Where the pastures were?
Gilles: Where the pastures were, yeah.
Bauman: And so, the alfalfa, was that a crop you grew and sold? Or was that used for your animals?
Gilles: Oh, it's to feed the animals in the winter. You cut it and stacked it and put it on a wagon and hauled it over and threw it up on a haystack. [LAUGHTER] One way or another, in the barns, they used to take the horses and somehow off of the hay wagon. They wrapped it up, and then the horses went ahead and drew it up into the loft. That way.
Bauman: And so, what other buildings were on your property besides the house itself?
Gilles: The barn. And we had a cellar, a ground cellar, and it was covered with dirt and had to open up.
Bauman: What was stored in there?
Gilles: Oh, canned fruit and things that--sauerkraut in the barrel and anything like that. And then we had where we kept the potatoes and the turnips and all that stuff in another building. And we had chickens. Of course, they harvested the turkeys in the fall. I don't know where they sold them, down to the butcher or somebody. And then we had the barn down the hill farther in front of the haystack, and that was--and there was a barnyard of course.
Bauman: Growing up, did you have jobs that were yours on the farm?
Gilles: Oh, yes. Worked all day outside and in the sun. [LAUGHTER] Hoeing weeds and picking strawberries early in the morning. We worked for people who had lots of asparagus. We cut asparagus early in the morning. In the spring, you know? And my mother worked in the packing shed, and they packed the asparagus ready for market.
Bauman: Was this someone else in Richland?
Gilles: I don't know. I think they shipped it. They shipped it in wooden crates. Not too big because they'd get smashed. And the strawberries, the same way. We picked strawberries. We picked apples. We picked pears. We did those kind of things for other people, plus we picked our own fruit so our mother could can them. And we was busy. We had to bring the cows from the pasture home in the morning after cutting asparagus—about 3:00 in the morning, you get up, cut asparagus, bring the cows home and milk them and take them back. Get ready for school. It was busy.
Bauman: That's a lot of work.
Gilles: Yeah, but it didn't hurt me.
Bauman: Did you have time to do fun things--swimming or--
Gilles: Oh, yeah. We went down the irrigation ditch down to where it kind of stops down at where there's land and it kind of opened up a little space where kids could come. And we'd go swimming and take a bath [LAUGHTER] with soap. Didn't do much good because you had to run back up the flume home.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Yeah.
Gilles: But anyway it was--and well, at school, we did our sports, softball and basketball and went to different little towns for competition games. And see who'd go to Spokane. We went one year, but we lost by--for basketball--lost by one point.
Bauman: Yeah. I saw a picture of a basketball team--
Gilles: Yeah, I was in it.
Bauman: In the picture, right.
Gilles: [LAUGHTER] Yeah.
Bauman: What position did you play on the basketball team?
Gilles: Pardon?
Bauman: What position did you play on the basketball team?
Gilles: Guard.
Bauman: Do you remember any of the other young women who were on the team?
Gilles: John Dam’s daughter was. She was forward. And I forget her name, but Margaret somebody was center. And I don't remember them all.
Bauman: You must've been a good athlete then.
Gilles: Well, I guess I was. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Well, there's also in that book, a note that you had won a race.
Gilles: A race. Yes.
Bauman: At a picnic?
Gilles: Yeah. At the end of the year, they'd have school competition between the grades and stuff. And that was for my running. Because we did a lot of running in soft sand. So when you go on hard surface, you could really go. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: How did you get to school? Did you walk to school? A bus?
Gilles: No, no. A bus came, and we could see it when we lived on the little hill above the flat surface where we were at first. We could see it. Then we'd take off and run down to the corner and catch the bus. And then he'd pick up all the rest of the kids and go down to Richland. The school was behind John Day and Nelson's mercantile store there. There was a gas station there and a church where we had baccalaureate and all that stuff there from the grade school. And the high school was down the road from the grade school. Richland High.
Bauman: Right. Do you remember any of your teachers from?
Gilles: Oh, Carmichael and—oh, I don't remember.
Bauman: Any idea how big, how many--
Gilles: Kids?
Bauman: Kids there were. Yeah.
Gilles: Well, I think there was about 500 people. So they must have had at least three or four kids. So multiply that. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Right.
Gilles: We had a lot of kids.
Bauman: I want go back. You mentioned your parents earlier. And your father was an immigrant from Croatia. Did he speak English?
Gilles: Not very well. There was nobody for me to talk to but the animals. [LAUGHTER] Because my mother didn't converse with him. Because she didn't know his language.
Bauman: And how had they met?
Gilles: Oh, at a dance in Montana--Butte. And he knew her father in the mines.
Bauman: I see. And they got married and moved out--
Gilles: Yeah. However, they were advertising at that time for homesteading in the '20s, you know. I was born in 1920.
Bauman: Yeah.
Gilles: How they got there, I don't know. Because they never talked, and I didn't know what to ask them anyway. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Now, did you have electricity at all in your home?
Gilles: No. Kerosene light, lamp, and lantern to go to the barn and milk in the winter and stuff like that. Had kerosene.
Bauman: And did you have--how did you get from--did you have a car at any time, or was it horse and wagon?
Gilles: First of all, it was a wagon with a bed in it. We rode it in the back, and they rode in the front of course. And took a long time to get there, [LAUGHTER] wherever we was going. They belonged to the grange. And we'd go there for their meetings and dances. And my mother played piano, and she played for the drill team and for the dances along with other musicians. And they used to have house parties in the wintertime. They'd clear the floor, and whoever could come to play--and if there was a piano there, my mother played. And they danced or they played cards or--that was their entertainment, so to speak. Go from house to house to play cards.
Bauman: Do you remember any other events? Were there 4th of July--
Gilles: Oh, yes. We'd go to the park. What is that park called? Where the golf course is--on the river.
Bauman: Howard Amon Park?
Gilles: No, no. It's a golf course on the river.
Bauman: Columbia Park?
Gilles: Yeah. They'd go along there, and people would come. And they'd make homemade ice cream, and they'd do their wieners or whatever—chicken, it usually was--a lot of fried chicken and pies and cakes, and they had a good time. And then, as I remembered, they used to shoot firecrackers off of the old green bridge and do their fireworks there. So everybody'd go down by the river there and watch them.
Bauman: The fireworks there. There was a ferry that would take people across the river.
Gilles: Yes.
Bauman: Did you do that very often? Take the ferry across the river?
Gilles: No, we didn't. But we did go down to the Columbia, down to the boom where they caught wood and trees and stuff and get our wood for the winter, or if you happened to be lucky, get a part of a tree or something. They'd saw it up and have some wood to build something.
Bauman: Did you interact with any Native Americans in the area very often?
Gilles: Oh, yes. When the fishing season was on, they used to go up to the Yakima someplace where there was a little dam. But they put their tents out across the ditch from us, and they'd have little tents. And then they'd have a three-sided tent where they'd have their fires out there and cook their fish and dry it and stuff like that. We had to drive the cows by the trail, went right by their camping site. [LAUGHTER] And my mother used to say to my little sister, "Rosie, if you don't be good, I'm going to give you to the Indians.” [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: What about any neighbors or were there children from other families--
Gilles: Oh, yes.
Bauman: --there a lot?
Gilles: Yeah, Arstolds and-- they didn't live close. They had their own acreage and stuff. And we used to go to their house a lot. And Bumgarnters and--gee, I can't think of their names now.
Bauman: That's okay. So in terms of the weather here--it can get pretty darn hot as we know today—
Gilles: Yeah!
Bauman: --in the summer and pretty cold at times in the winter with no electricity. What was that like? Do you have any memories of the heat or the wind or the winter weather?
Gilles: Well, we just made do. We had wood for fire. In the cook stove was the heater of the room. We only had two rooms on the hill, and the one house we lived on in the flat was a big one room thing.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Gilles: And my grandfather, after he died, we moved up there. And the cook stove kept us warm, but it didn't go all night. [LAUGHTER] You had to get up in the morning and put the kindling in and light it and get it going. And in the summer, you just stopped. And again, in the shade, that's all you could do. And it got really hot because there was no trees. No trees. And now you have green and trees. It makes it cooler.
Bauman: Did you get many dust storms? Do you remember many dust storms?
Gilles: Oh, yes. Lots of hard sand would blow against your legs when you was going back and forth to the pasture. Ooh. That really stung.
Bauman: How about any wild animals? Were there coyotes?
Gilles: Oh, coyotes, and rabbits. They used to have rabbit drives. A lot of men would get together so far apart and they'd drive the rabbits in front of them and then shoot them. Because they were a real menace. They get into your garden and eat everything up.
Bauman: Yeah, I've heard about those before. Eating the crops were the problem, or the gardens, yeah. So I understand that you had a little bit of an accident.
Gilles: Yes, I found a blasting cap that my dad had brought from Butte to blow up the sagebrush. It was big and tough to make more land, you know. And so I found an old one, and I thought it was full of dirt, picked at it and it blew up. Took my fingers off. But I made it.
Bauman: How old were you?
Gilles: I was 16 and very upset about it. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And so did you have to go to a doctor or a hospital?
Gilles: Oh, went to Lourdes, and Dr. Spalding took care of my hand.
Bauman: And was that the only hospital?
Gilles: Only one. And it was 13 miles, and the neighbors that had bought the flat--one room shack--took me over there. It was 13 miles or something. And I had to wait for a baby to be born before they could take care of me.
Bauman: Wow.
Gilles: But they decided to keep my hand and not cut it off because it looked so bad. So I have a hand, just not the digits. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: How long did you have to stay at the hospital? How long did it take to recover?
Gilles: Well, I stayed there longer than I need to do because I didn't have any place to go. My mother and father got a divorce, and she was very ill with arthritis. It's the kind that just comes overnight, and I forget the name of it. But it's a bad one. And so she and I were in the hospital the same time.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Gilles: So they kept me there, and then I went to work--for three months they kept me, and I worked folding bandages and stuff before they autoclaved them or sterilized them. And then I worked at the doctor's home for his son--to take care of his baby son. Then I got to go down and eat at their restaurant in the evening. So I was just the daytime stuff, and I stayed there. And I was there till I decided that I needed to go to school and learn to work over. So I went to the Catholic school in Spokane--the House of Good Shepherd it was at that time. And they took wayward girls, but they decided my sisters and I would be a help at the place to do other things. But to mind the rules the same as they had to, which was okay with me.
Bauman: So how long were there?
Gilles: Oh about two and a half years. My sister Mary was there 13 years, and Rosie was there 10 or so. But they did like Mary. She run the movie machine and helped the nuns. And I worked in the kitchen, and of course I learned to work. And worked in the where we ate in the cafeteria. And I got to go with the nuns when they went soliciting.
Bauman: So did you grow up Catholic then?
Gilles: Yes.
Bauman: Was there a Catholic church in the area anywhere?
Gilles: No, we had to come to Kennewick.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Gilles: My mother brought a few children, and my sisters over in the summer for us to take our catechism.
Bauman: So Kennewick was the place to go?
Gilles: Yeah. So we got our proper papers to be a Catholic.
Bauman: Do you remember what the name of the church was in Kennewick?
Gilles: St. Joseph's as far as I know. That was the first church, and I think it was on—I don’t know--down by the canal. Now I don't know where it is for sure.
Bauman: Yeah. I think it's on Clearwater now, but it used to be on--
Gilles: Oh.
Bauman: And now I think it's on--
Gilles: Oh, yes. I know where that one is now, but I don't know where they moved the old church. Yeah, it's on Garfield--the new church, St. Joseph.
Bauman: So after you were in Spokane for about two and half years. What happened to you at that point? Where did you go from there?
Gilles: Pardon?
Bauman: Where did you go after you were in Spokane?
Gilles: Oh, I worked at a home and took care of invalid fellow and his baby when the family was gone. And I worked in the kitchen and fed the baby and all this. And they rang a bell for me [LAUGHTER] to come and wait on the table and stuff. And then they split up the families. The mother and father and the husband and wife moved out. So then I came out to--where did I go? Oh. I have to think. Where did I go? Oh, I went back to Richland, and I lived with a family that--he worked on the freeways and highways building, and she was home with two or three kids. And so I stayed there.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Gilles: And in the summertime, we'd get to go to up in the mountains where they built highways. I forget the name of the one we was that one summer. Anyway.
Bauman: Remember the name of the family that you were--
Gilles: Yeah, Drieslers. Jack Driesler, and Nellie.
Bauman: And then you said your parents got a divorce around the time you were 16, also. Is that right?
Gilles: Yeah.
Bauman: And so what happened to the family farm when your parents got divorced?
Gilles: The government bought it.
Bauman: And so did that happen when you were in Spokane that the government bought--
Gilles: No.
Bauman: Or later?
Gilles: No. I was at 16, and I was born in 1920. So that was what?
Bauman: That was 1936.
Gilles: Yeah.
Bauman: And the government came in '43. So it would've been later. So did both your parents stay in Richland after they got divorced?
Gilles: No. He went back to mining up in Metaline Falls where his brother lived.
Bauman: And how about your mother?
Gilles: She stayed here and married a guy that he lived out there by our school teacher. But when Hanford bought them out, they moved to Prosser and had a mint farm. And then my mother, she died young. She was 53. She died in '55. She had like emphysema and kidney problems.
Bauman: You mentioned that your grandfather had some land them on the hill above you.
Gilles: Yeah.
Bauman: Now, did he stay there until '43?
Gilles: No. He passed away before we moved up there. So that's how come we moved up there. Some of this is mixed up, I know. But I think it's off. [LAUGHTER] Been a long time ago.
Bauman: Is there anything that I haven't asked you about, any--either events that really stand out in your mind or really special memories or anything like that I haven't asked you about that you'd like to talk about?
Gilles: Not that I can think of at the moment.
Off-camera man: There was a continual--
Gilles: Speak up. I can't--
Off-camera man: --relationship between Rosie who was the youngest girl and--
Gilles: We were raised together.
Off-camera man: --Mary. And they ganged up against Mary and pulled all kind of pranks like—
Gilles: [LAUGHTER]
Off-camera man: --chucking cow patties at her and stuff like that.
Bauman: So a little sibling rivalry?
Gilles: Oh, she wanted to boss everything. [LAUGHTER] When she hears that, she'll--she's still alive. And Rosie wasn't going to have that.
Bauman: And Rosie was the youngest.
Gilles: Yeah. She was feisty. She passed away.
Bauman: And all three of you were in Spokane for a while.
Gilles: Yeah.
Bauman: So what happened--your sisters, when they left Spokane, where did they go?
Gilles: Rosie went with my cousin Tony to Waukegan, Illinois and got a job there where they made pills-- filled pills. I don't know what you call it. But anyway, she got a job there and lived there about five years and came back out and met her husband out at the area. He was a--he drew--what do you call it?
Bauman: Draftsman.
Gilles: Draftsman. And she was a secretary. And they met and married and moved back to Wenatchee where he was from, up there. And lived till they both passed away. Mary is still here with her husband Jim.
Bauman: And then how about yourself? When the war came, did you move out of the area? Where else did you live besides--
Gilles: Oh, I was up in Seattle working at the Swedish hospital. And for a while, I worked at the Bon Marche, downtown Seattle and helped the baker in the morning and cleaned the steam table. They had a little restaurant at that time, the Bon Marche did. I helped the baker make pies and cakes and stuff.
Bauman: And when did you come back to Richland or to the Tri-Cities?
Gilles: 1986. 50 years later.
Bauman: Changed quite a bit probably since you've been last living there. [LAUGHTER]
Gilles: Yeah, I'm lost yet! [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: I was wondering what you would think would be important for people to understand about the community of Richland that you grew up in? To understand sort of what it was like to grow up there.
Gilles: I think it was a great life. And children worked and there wasn't so much vandalism. And of course, there wasn't that many people, but they were good people. I can't really think of anything.
Bauman: Well, thank you very much for coming in here.
Gilles: Yeah.
Bauman: This was terrific. Some really good stories and memories, and I really appreciate you being willing to come and talk with us.
Gilles: There's probably a lot more, but I'm sorry I don't remember it all.
Bauman: Well, what you remembered is great. Thank you very much.
Gilles: Okay. You're welcome.
Bauman: It wasn’t too bad, was it?
Gilles: No, I just wish I knew more.
Bauman: No, well, what you remembered is really—
Man: You did a terrific job, I’m proud of you. You obviously knew a ton of it.
Bauman: Good, good, good. As I said, some of those memories are great—
Camera man: Can I take a picture before you go?
Gilles: Yeah.
Bauman: --because people now don’t know—
Man: They had no electricity, they had no water, I mean you had to pump it out—
Bauman: It’ll go along with your information.
Man: When we put together all the stuff.
Gilles: I hope it’s a good one! I don’t take good pictures anymore.
Man: Oh, well, we all say that.
Gilles: All right.
Man: [LAUGHTER]
Northwest Public Television | Fox_John
John. Fox: Go and see if I can find any of the documents that I had written that were once classified and are now declassified.
Robert Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Camera man: All right, I can adjust and play from here.
Bauman: You good?
Camera man: Yup.
Bauman: All right.
Camera man: I am.
Bauman: Okay, we’ll go ahead and started then.
Fox: Okay, fine.
Bauman: So let's start by having you say your name.
Fox: I'm John Fox.
Bauman: Okay. And my name's Robert Bauman. Today is September 4th of 2013. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So let's start by, if you could, tell me about how you came to Hanford, what brought you here, when you arrived.
Fox: Ah, yes. It was 1951. I had just completed a master's degree in mechanical engineering at Oregon State College at that time. And so it was early in the Korean War period, and I had been commissioned to a lieutenant in The Corps of Engineers when I graduated from college. So I was eligible to be called up from the Reserves. And this was one place where I applied for a job that didn't have any problem with that situation because they could supersede it during the Cold War period. So I was offered a job here. And I came to work in April of 1951. I didn't have my Q clearance yet. So they put me on odd jobs downtown in what was in the 700 Area for about three months until I got a Q clearance. And then I was assigned on the rotational training program for engineers, which involved three month assignments in various components over a period of a year and a half or so to give a choice of where there was a best fit for a job.
Bauman: What were your first impressions of the place when you arrived?
Fox: Well I had been warned, because when I was in college in the late '40s, one of my fraternity brothers had been assigned up here in the Army as guarding the plant for the anti-aircraft installations and so on. And then when he was discharged, he came to school. And he kept complaining about this being the middle of nowhere and dusty and desert, nothing to do and so on. So I had a picture of what it was like. And I expected to work here for a couple of years and then go get a job in California where I really wanted to live. In my younger years, I had lived part time in San Francisco and gone to school there in both elementary school and for a short time in high school. In fact, I was there when the war broke out—World War II broke out. And that's why I moved back to Portland. And I knew it had been very mysterious during the war. And so I was sort of prepared for it. But did not ever expect to stay very long.
Bauman: What sort of housing did you live in when you first arrived here?
Fox: Well, it was very full when I arrived because they were expanding again. They were constructing new piles and a new separations plant. So the first few weeks I lived in the construction workers' barracks in North Richland, what is now right near Battelle Boulevard and George Washington Way. And took the bus. I was single; I was broke; I didn't own a car. [LAUGHTER] But there was bus transportation within the city, as well as out to the plant. So I took the bus down to town for my job in the 700 Area. And then an opening came up in the dormitory. They had dormitories for men and women at the time, although there were more men than women. So I was assigned then to W21, which was on the corner of Lee and Stevens where Albertson's parking lot presently is. And that was a very social dorm. It was mostly young engineers, some others. So I lived there until 1953, when the first privately built houses were added to the city, the Bauer Day houses in the south end of town and the Richland Village houses at George Washington Way and the McMurray area north to Sacagawea School. And that was when the three of us—Jerry, and Wayne and I—moved into a Bauer Day house.
Bauman: And where was that house?
Fox: It was 346 Cottonwood on the corner of Cottonwood and Boise.
Bauman: So how would you describe Richland in the early 1950s, when you first arrived, as a community?
Fletcher: Well, I would describe it sort of from the social standpoint. For us, it was rather an extension of college life, if you will. There was a number of bachelor engineers. There were a number of secretaries, school teachers, and so on. There was nothing to do here. You realize that in those days there was not liquor by the drink in the states of Oregon and Washington. The only place you could drink liquor was in private clubs like the American Legion, the Elks, and so on. So you needed to know somebody who could get you into those clubs. You could go in the liquor store and buy a bottle and go to one of those and get a set up. Restaurants could not serve liquor. Taverns were okay; you could drink beer, or—wine wasn't very popular in those days. They had a lot of rot gut wine--Thunderbird and so on. And then taverns, you could not stand up with a glass of beer in your hand. You had to be seated. And you could not sing. [LAUGHTER] Interesting regulations. That changed in just two or three years. I forget when the law changed on that and it opened up to liquor by the drink. But that was great for the restaurants, but it killed the clubs—the fraternal clubs—slowly. But anyway, you had to make your own entertainment. And when I arrived, there had been something called a dorm club that was a social group for the singles. And it was just in the process of morphing into the Desert Ski Club. And so for something to do in the winter, I took up skiing, which I never had learned to do. And so we went on ski trips on the weekends and so on. And that became a main social activity. Over a period of time, sort of two by two, people got married off and that dwindled away in the long run. But the interesting thing is the Desert Ski Club has stayed as an active institution. I've since attended the 50th anniversary of which Stein Eriksen was a very famous skier in the '50s came and attended our 50th anniversary of the club. As far as I know, they are still going and organizing ski trips. And that was the genesis of a lot of other organizations of various types. The Richland Players for plays. The Richland Light Opera for musical performances. The I-MAC Mountaineering Club and hiking club. The Rod and Gun Club. All sorts of different clubs were formed for that. Book clubs around the library and other things.
Bauman: Were there any sort of larger community events that you can recall from that period, Atomic Frontier Days, anything along those lines?
Fox: There was an Atomic Frontier Days, but I can't recall when that commenced or when it ended. It wasn't anything we did. The other thing besides skiing, though, was water-skiing was just coming into vogue there. And of course, the people in the ski club took that up in the summer. And another fellow and I went together on a boat and a wooden—flat bottom wooden boat that was built really for racing in the Sammamish River, [LAUGHTER] a very shallow river. So we took that up. I remember that a couple of times I put on a water-skiing exhibition of sorts. I remember going up to Moses Lake from here with a group to put on a show. We used to go out on the highlands in the Columbia River and stay out there and bake in the sun all day and even water-ski at night and what have you. So we had a lot of fun doing that. So it was make your own entertainment.
Bauman: And you mentioned that you lived in the Bauer Day home on Cottonwood. And how long did you live there? Where did you move after that?
Fox: Actually, we moved in there in 1953. One by one, we got married. There was a turnover in roommates. I was the last one there. I was married in 1959. But the town was sold to the residents in 1958 and 1959. And I bought that house, because I was engaged and was going to get married and sort of kicked my last roommate out in the summer of '59. But in 1958, I also went in with a group of people to purchase land north of Richland, because the town at that time ended at about Newcomer Street. There were few houses built north of there. And the tracts of land between there and here on the WSU campus, Sprout Road, were auctioned off in various size tracts. And so a group of six of us went together and we bid on two tracts of land along the river. And one of the girls that used to go water-skiing all the time, we used to go down to the island that's just south of the island that's in front of the campus here. She always said I want to have a house on the river by that long island because that's where the best water is for water-skiing. And she got me so interested in that that a group of us went together and bid on two tracts of land along here. And then the auction, the way it was set up, we were the successful bidder on one of those tracts, although we were the second high. But we were closer to the high bid on that tract than on the other one. So we got that one. And it happens to be the tract that adjoins the campus here. And I have the—we subdivided into seven lots and sold the one that's next to the campus. And I'm on the other end of it, the last one. So I'm the seventh house down the street from where we sit.
Bauman: Oh, okay. [LAUGHTER] So let's talk a little bit more about that. In 1958, the shift from Richland being sort of federal town.
Fox: Yes.
Bauman: Did it seem to you at the time that most people were in support of that, something that the people of Richland really wanted to happen?
Fox: Well actually, that was a second go around. There was an earlier proposal by the government—I forget in what year, but let's say a couple of years earlier around '56 or so—to sell the property. Because it was apparent by that time that they weren't going to one day shut the plant down and kick everybody out. People—married people wanted an opportunity to own their own houses. And they were beginning to move away from Richland to Kennewick mainly, but also a little bit into West Richland where they could buy property and own their own home. So the government came out with a preliminary proposal, and people thought the prices were too high, considering the uncertainty of the longevity of the town itself and the investment and the risk. So they retooled that over I guess a two-year period. You can check this out from the history. And came back with a second proposal, which gave the option of buying the house at, as I recall, a higher price, but with a guaranteed buy-back at that price, should the price go down. But I think only one or two people took that option. They took the lowest price. [LAUGHTER] As I recall, I paid $7,000 for the Bauer Day house in 1958 or '59, whenever that closed.
Bauman: So let's talk about your work then in Hanford. You mentioned you did these sort of three month--
Fox: Yes.
Bauman: --working at different places at the site.
Fox: Yeah.
Bauman: After that period, where did you work then?
Fox: Well actually, I had a lot of other changes through the years. But after that period, my assignment was in what was called the irradiation testing group, which managed special tests of radiation of unusual things in the piles—I'll call them piles because that's what they were called at that time originally—that were not related to the production of plutonium process directly. They might have something to do with something that was related to improving the process, but often they were unrelated completely. A couple of examples that stand out in my mind, one was a submarine reactor control rod that was for the nuclear Navy program. Of course, before they had completed their test facility in Idaho Falls. And they wanted to get some data on the durability of the design of the rod. And so that had to be placed in vertically in one of the reactors. And it was in—what was then very new—C pile. And put in place of one of the vertical safety rods. And it was particularly interesting in that, after that test was finished—because it had some tubing that came up for the monitoring and measuring of it while it was in the pile—in extracting it, it got stuck coming out. And it resulted in the longer than planned shutdown of the reactor. [LAUGHTER] Which did not go well with the production quotas. So that was a difficult time, but it was probably the most interesting one. Another one involved C pile before it started up. Actually, while I was on a rotation program one of my assignments was graveyard shift in the stacking of the graphite inside the pile. So I've actually been inside one of the reactors. And I was the inspector to see that each bar went in the right location and according to the plan for layout and nobody was tracking any contaminating material in there and so on. But also before that went into operation, there was a chamber underneath the reactor. And a scientist from Los Alamos named Fred Reines was trying to find experimental proof of the existence of neutrinos, which characteristically can pass through most any matter undetected. And so he got permission to build an apparatus called a scintillation counter chamber with fluid underneath that reacted—using the reactor as a shield from other background events to try to see if he could get a few counts of neutrino interactions in that chamber. He later went on, did the experiments in that deep gold mine in South Dakota and other locations and contributed to the verification of neutrino existence. Eventually won a Nobel Prize at the end of his career, at the end of his life, literally. So that was another just interesting thing. It had nothing to do with Hanford, but that occurred in that assignment. We used to, when I worked in that, our office was in the fire station at H Area. And so we used to visit, there was more of the old town of White Bluffs at that time. There was a cold storage facility, the bank, of course, which they're now talking about restoring. There was the old Milwaukee railroad station, very picturesque. Sorry they tore that down. And we used to go drive down there and eat lunch under the remaining trees. Later, I was transferred to the graphite group. And that was in 1954. And the history of after they started up the piles and they first discovered the xenon poisoning and so on. That story is well-told. But there was also what they considered a serious problem with the distortion of the graphite. The graphite was expanding under radiation. And so at the top of the reactor, it was visibly—not visibly, but measurably bending the tube that the slugs were in. And it was becoming more difficult to push them in and out and loading the reactor. And they thought if this keeps going, we can't continue the operation. In fact, it's my recollection--I don't have the records—that they shut down B-Reactor for some period of time in order to preserve it. And they built DR, which was a replacement for D in case they had to abandon it. But then there was much more concern about the expansion of the graphite. So they changed the inert atmosphere inside the reactor shielding from helium to a mixture of helium and carbon dioxide to heat it up—heat the graphite up—to a higher temperature figuring that this would anneal out the damage to the graphite. That did happen, in fact. And so I was assigned to keep track of how this was progressing according to the power levels of the reactor, because they were also then trying to increase the power levels of the reactor to produce more plutonium. But they didn't know how high in temperature was safe to go, didn't have good ways to measure the temperature in them. We were measuring the profiles. And so that was a very interesting task. And I was there doing that until 1956, when Hanford Laboratories was formed. And the Hanford Laboratories was formed and given the project for recycling plutonium in nuclear power reactors, which was their first peacetime mission for the Hanford Plant—or purely exclusively peacetime—unclassified, nothing to do with production of plutonium. But aimed at getting the maximum amount of energy out of the uranium ore resources. And so that would involve design of the Plutonium Recycle Test Reactor from start to finish and the operation of that. That was a heavy water reactor, entirely different type of unique design. And so that was a very interesting project. So I was fortunate in having some very different job assignments throughout my career here in different technologies. And that, in fact, is what kept me here [LAUGHTER] for so long is that ever-changing job challenge.
Bauman: So how long were you at the PRTR?
Fox: I was there from 1956 until early 1960s, till about '63. I forget the date it went critical and into operation and I then moved on to other things because I wasn't associated with the operation of it. But it also has a very interesting operating history, because of a particular experiment that was done there that went awry.
Bauman: Do you want to talk about that? [LAUGHTER]
Fox: Well, I think it's well worth getting somebody who knows more about it who was involved in the fuel technology. Particularly today when there is a project at Savannah River for building mixed oxide fuel elements from the plutonium that's recovered from the weapons reduction program. And they have a project there that's in about the same sort of situation as the Vitrification Plant here in budget and schedule and so on. And yet, in the 308 Building in the 300 Area, mixed oxide plutonium, uranium oxide fuel elements were manufactured for the PRTR back in the late 1950s and early 1960s. That plant has since been torn down. But the experiment that went awry was to run—the fuel rods in the PRTR were made of zirconium clad mixed oxide fuel elements, very similar to what's normal for nuclear power reactors. And that was the whole idea, that they were different mainly, and that they contained plutonium from the beginning. But it was decided to run an experiment to see how hot you could run those. If you could run them safely with the core of the mixed oxide molten in a fuel element that's about so in diameter. And I forget the melting point, but it's higher than 2,200 centigrade or something like that. And one of the fuel elements melted through the cladding and the pressure tube holding it and so on and seriously damaged the reactor. And had to have been—it was a big repair job. And I'm sure that's all recorded. I was not associated with it, but of course I heard about it [LAUGHTER] at the time. It's a story well worth telling, I think, about that time.
Bauman: So after your assignment at PRTR, then where did you go from there next?
Fox: Well, then we were working on trying to develop further reactor concepts. We did a little work for NASA when they were working on a rocket reactor that they had a design that was competing with Los Alamos for nuclear rockets. But that came to naught. Eventually, the successor to the Plutonium Recycle Test Reactor was the Fast Flux Test Reactor, fast reactor fuel. And that was just beginning. That was after Battelle took over the operation of the laboratories in 1965. So that's beyond the time frame for your main interest. But in the late '60s, the group I was in was working partly to support Exxon Nuclear in their private fuel manufacturing venture, which they later sold to Siemens, and which Siemens later sold to AREVA, which is still in operation of manufacturing commercial reactor fuel. But that grew out of the lab. And some of the people, in fact, one of them who used to work for me that I just had lunch with at the Kiwanis meeting ended up working for Exxon and so on, and he retired from that. So that was a spin-off project. The FFTF project was turned over in 1970 to Westinghouse Hanford and taken away from Battelle. And at that time I had the choice of going either with the FFTF project or staying with Battelle for who knows what. And I decided to stay with Battelle for who knows what. I decided to get out of the nuclear business and move on to other things.
Bauman: Hanford, obviously, is a site that emphasized security, secrecy, to a certain extent as well.
Fox: Yes.
Bauman: How did that impact your work? Or did it in any way?
Fox: The security?
Bauman: Security and secrecy.
Fox: I didn't think it impacted it all that much. When I was working the 100 Areas, you know, it was a secure area. Nearly everything we did was classified. We had classified filing cabinets. We kept everything. We had to account for all the documents in our possession, or sending them into the library, so on. So there was more or less an accounting thing we had to destroy any drafts, procedures, and so on. You didn't want to forget your badge going to work. [LAUGHTER] After I retired, I still occasionally had a dream about going to work and somehow getting in the building and then discovering I didn't have my badge and thought, how—[LAUGHTER] what's going to happen? But you know, I think there were a few occasions when I forgot my badge. But it was never a big issue. I was—eventually in Battelle, I had very few classified documents. And it became more of a nuisance to have a classified file cabinet and so on. And then they can through on a campaign to reduce the number of security clearances. And they asked me to give up my security clearance. I didn't have any problem with that because it relieved me of that nuisance. It wasn't a problem to me about discussing it with anybody external. I think there was probably a little more cross talk between different projects. For example, at the time I came there were some projects that were a little more secret than others, like the P10 project for production of tritium at B Reactor. And some of the guys in the dorm were working on that. And they would talk about the problems with a metal liner, the glass liner, or this, that, or the other thing. We didn’t know—you got some idea of what that project was like, but you didn't really know the whole flow sheet for it or all of that. But you were aware that it was going on. So, just stuff like that.
Bauman: President Kennedy visited the site in 1963. I wonder if you were there when he visited?
Fox: That's right. You could go out there and you could take your camera with you. And you could take a photo of President Kennedy giving his speech, which I did. And that was not long before he was assassinated that fall. I forget the date, but it was maybe September of '63.
Bauman: Mm-hmm, yeah. So you got a photo of him while he was giving his speech?
Fox: Yeah. Yes, I did from a distance. I didn't have a good telephoto lens, [LAUGHTER] unfortunately at the time.
Bauman: Do you remember anything else about his visit?
Fox: Not especially. I don't remember what he said.
Bauman: Were there any other events or incidents or things from those early years working at Hanford that stand out to you that you remember?
Fox: A sort of an off-the-wall type of one. This was back earlier on when I was at the fire station at H Area. And at that time, there was a fighter aircraft based at Moses Lake, Larson Air Force Base. And again, it was protection for the Hanford plant. And a pilot from there had a flame-out over the Yakima firing range somewhere and ejected and landed on the Hanford plant. And he landed in a tree. And they had to—Hanford patrol had to get him out of his parachute out of the tree. [LAUGHTER] How ironic in all of that space that he could find a tree to land in. [LAUGHTER] But the—I’m trying to think—there were other events. There was an incident with the startup of K West Reactor. I think that's another sort of plant war story to tell. And I don't know what's been said about that. I recall there was a deadline to meet for the startup of the N Reactor. And that was practically willed into happening [LAUGHTER] before the stroke of midnight or so on. And you know there were sort of war stories to be told about that.
Bauman: What would you consider the most challenging aspects of working at Hanford, especially in the '50s and '60s? And what might have been some more rewarding aspects of your work there?
Fox: Well, the challenging aspects were trying to get more production for the Cold War and trying to determine what were the safe limits on operation for the piles, the temperature limits, avoiding incipient boiling in the tubes in the reactor core. And I assume that there were similar issues with the chemical processing plants. Again, because of the compartmentalization of the technology, I never worked in the 200 Areas. I had no understanding of the processes there or the issues there. And the infamous green run that you've probably heard some people talk about had occurred before I came here. That was very early in the Cold War, but they still talked about it. Individual radiation exposure limits were more—I wouldn't say they were casual—but compared to today's standards, they were relaxed. Procedures for doing things were not as cumbersome as they are today. It's practically impossible to get anything done today [LAUGHTER] under the work rules and procedures by comparison. And yet, it got done and generally safely. The only really serious accident that I can recall that involved radiation was the one in the Plutonium Finishing Plant with the glove-box with the americium. And I can't recall the employee's name got the bad exposure with americium and had treatment. But I don't know anything about the specifics of it. One technical challenge that was not met that I can recall, and I had one of the assignments on the rotational training program, which I mentioned earlier, was in the fuel manufacturing area in the 300 Area. I don't know if you've interviewed anybody who worked there, but the fuel process had an aluminum can about eight inches long and about a little over an inch in diameter. And you stuck the uranium slug in it. But where you did that in order to bond it to the slug, you stood over a pot of molten aluminum silicon alloy. And you had a holder that held the uranium can and the steel tube. You lowered that into the pot of molten alloy. And the operator manually pushed the solid uranium slug into it and then lifted it out and set it aside. And then it was cooled off and cleaned off and sent over to weld the cap on the aluminum can. Well, General Electric looked at this and said, this is a cumbersome manual process. And these workers are standing over this pot of hot molten alloy. Not a pleasant job. And we ought to be able to automate this, so they set up two competing approaches to automating it. And one was, let me call it a tinker toy set up approach. It's a disparaging term, but attempt to replicate the manual process with machinery to repeat—robotic, I guess, is a better word to use--to replicate that process. And I had a short assignment for three months because I was a mechanical engineer on doing that. And I made a couple of suggestions for it, which didn't work out as it turned out. So I didn't contribute anything to make a success of that. And it was ultimately unsuccessful. The other was for the design group to design a machine to do it by some alternate process. And there was a third process proposed that was more mechanical bonding process, but that was never tried out experimentally. The ultimate result was no process failed. And they used the manual process for as long as the whole production reactors existed. The N Reactor, the dual purpose reactor, used a completely different process because it required high temperature materials.
Bauman: So then what would have been some of the more rewarding aspects of working at Hanford for you?
Fox: Well to me personally, it was interesting because it was, of course, an entirely new technology at that time. And it was apparent to me that the Hanford graphite reactor technology was not suitable for power reactors in the long run. It got me to thinking about that. I had the opportunity also later toward the end of the '60s and the early '70s to teach a course here at what was then joint graduate center in reactor design. And also for three or four years to help with a spring quarter design course at the University of Washington in Seattle as an adjunct there in their spring design graduate level course on reactor design. So that, again, was very interesting, the interaction with students, and particularly at the University with foreign students. It's a clear contrast between American educated students and foreign educated students and trying to stimulate different ideas or taking a different look at things in the design course for how to apply the basic knowledge or principles or how to make trade-offs when you also had to get into the economics of things. The Hanford plant really didn't have much of an economic element to it. It was wartime, and you know it's almost at any cost—not quite that way, but-- So it led me to be able to think of things differently and think more of the getting into application versus theory.
Bauman: Mm-hmm. Most of the students that I teach now were born after the Cold War ended, or many of them were, and don't know much about it or certainly don’t have many memories of it. So I wonder what you might say to either those students that I would have or future generations about working at Hanford during the Cold War?
Fox: Well, I didn't think of it as anything special. And quite frankly, I think that I see these ads on television daily now about Cold War warriors or so on contributing to the Cold War effort. And I never viewed it in that or through a quasi-patriotic way. It was an interesting job. It was more interesting than a lot of other jobs I might have had in a career. And the fact that it in some way contributed to the beneficial end to the Cold War was okay, but I don't feel it deserves anything special. I mean, there are quite a few other things that needed to be in place to prevail in the Cold War—the whole rocket missile technology, the miniaturization of the weapons, the nuclear weapons, the hydrogen bomb, which Hanford had little contribution to, except the early production of tritium. It just doesn't seem like a big deal to me.
Bauman: I wonder if I could ask you, at what point did you get involved in city government? And was that in any way any connection to your work at Hanford at all?
Fox: No. No, no connection. I've always had some interest in government, maybe inspired by a high school civics teachers named Wade Williams at Lincoln High School in Portland. And a high school alumni bulletin I just got last week named him as one of their outstanding teachers of all time. And he was a controversial guy, a very provocative guy. Staunch Republican in an era when everybody was a Democrat and a successful baseball coach [LAUGHTER] teaching government or social studies. But when we had kids in school I was on the school board for eight years in the late '70s and early '80s. Because I was concerned that the school that they built across the street here was mal-designed for the high school. And that the school was off on an education fad of the decade, was dictating school design according to some idealistic model that wasn't very practical in practice. But I just basically believe it’s a citizen's responsibility to give something back to the community as best he or she can, according to their abilities, whatever way works. And I felt I had something to contribute along that line. When I was on the school board, I was a dissenting vote on eliminating the teaching of world history at the junior high level, because students aren't interested in that kind of thing. And I'm not a believer in ignoring history, which is why I'm here today, isn't it? We're talking about the history of Hanford. When I retired, I wanted to do something more. And I got on the Parks Commission and ultimately, on the city council.
Bauman: Is there anything that I haven't asked you about your time working at Hanford, or that you haven't talked about yet that you think would be important to talk about?
Fox: Well as I've been saying to a number of people in talking about the Reach and the CREHST Museum and so on and some of the issues they have their currently, I think is important not to think just about the wartime mission or the wartime plus the Cold War mission, but it has led to other things. As I think I mentioned by a couple of examples I previously gave that it lead to peacetime missions. And part of that was a deliberate federal policy to say, okay, we've started this community here. There's a big investment in that community. We need to find a way to support some economy there after the wartime mission is completed and the plant is shut down. And so it led to peacetime missions. And that's led to the evolution of what's now the Pacific Northwest National Laboratory and a whole science and technology. And there are unforeseen consequences of that. And the unforeseen consequences aren't always bad. [LAUGHTER] They seem to be for any action taken in the Middle East. But here, it's led to a very vital research laboratory. And we wouldn't have a branch campus of a university here today without that. And that's all an asset to the community. When the Hanford plant was originated, people came from all over the country to work here. It built a more diverse community of backgrounds and interests than in any other city its size in eastern Washington. And that persists now. It's a legacy from that. And it's built on and built on and built on in those directions. Out of the lab came the original patent for digital recording, little known, totally unrelated, so on. What else will come out of it in the future? We can't know. But I think we can estimate that something will come out of it that will be for the greater good and we'll see.
Bauman: All right. Well, I want to thank you very much for coming in today and talking with us about your experiences. Appreciate it.
Fox: Okay. Thanks.
Northwest Public Television | Fletcher_Robert
Fletcher: I'm Robert Fletcher. R-O-B-E-R-T F-L-E-T-C-H-E-R.
Bauman: Thank you. And my name is Robert Bauman, and today is August 20th of 2013. And this interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So let's start, if we could, by maybe having you talk about your family and how they came to this area, what brought them here, when they came-- that sort of thing.
Fletcher: My folks--my mother and father--grew up in Wisconsin. They knew each other in high school, and my father came out west, because my mother had relatives in Idaho, and after she graduated she came out here to stay with them and go to business college in Spokane. So my dad was fond of her and he followed her by working his way west. He was an expert milker, and he could always get a job in a dairy. Because when you worked in a dairy milking cows you had to get up at 3:00 in the morning. And so when he'd work his way from Wisconsin to maybe South Dakota, and he would see--in the depot, in the train depot--he would look on the bulletin board for openings for milkers and he always found work. And he could stay there for several weeks till he got enough money to move on. So he wound up in Lewiston, Idaho, I believe it was. And eventually he and my mother got together and they got married in Coeur d'Alene, 1912. And I had a sister born in 1915 in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, Francille. And another sister was born in 1918. In the meantime, during World War I, my dad had been working in a, what's called electrical substation in Coeur d'Alene. And during the war then he went over to Bremerton and worked in the shipyards at Bremerton, wiring electrical wiring on the ships. And my mother eventually followed. My mother became a secretary and could do the office work. But after kids were born, she didn't do much of that. And then after the war was over, Bremerton jobs closed up and he went to the back to work at another electric substation down by Walla Walla, Milton-Freewater. And he had been raised on a farm and he had a desire to be independent. So at that time there were developments in Kennewick and then whole Tri-City area. They were developed because irrigation water was being made available from the rivers. And in Richland, there were private developers and they would get bonds that were backed by just state. The state government wanted to support the development to get started, and that was in late 1918s, '20s. And I'm sure my dad--well, my dad told me that there were brochures that these companies would advertise that, come to Kennewick or Richland, that water was available, the climate was ideal, and there soil was great, and you could make a living on just a few acres if you knew how to farm. So my dad travelled out here. His name was Francis, and C. F. Fletcher was his-- And he bought 20 acres of sagebrush. It was what is now on--what did I say?
Bauman: Spangler?
Fletcher: Spangler Road. He bought 20 acres there out there at the top of the hill. It was all sagebrush. And then later he bought 10 acres down below the hill where there now is a trailer park or mobile homes. He had to arrange to get the teams of horses to pull out the sagebrush and level the ground. My mother and—I believe that she had two children then, Francille, and Medo is my other sister's name, born in 1918. They came out by train from Walla Walla to Kennewick. And Morton Hess met them at-- Morton Hess had a improvised old pickup that dad said that they met them at the depot in Kennewick, and he brought them out to the farmhouse he'd rented. Before that, my dad had a team of horses, and he brought all his possessions in a wagon from Milton-Freewater to Richland that took him three days, he said, to make that trip with the team of horses. And so after he got the house rented, then he sent for my mother, had my mother come out with the children. And they lived in this rented farmhouse about a quarter of a mile away. And there were a few other houses, a few other farms being developed at the same time. So that took a lot of effort. It was 1920, and he told me that he had to put in the irrigation. The company brought water to the edge of your property and then you had to put in the pipe yourself. They were cement pipes, about three feet long, 40 pounds, eight inches in diameter. And he said he put in several hundred feet of this pipe and he thought he'd done a pretty good job. He worked hard. Turned the water on and it just leaked all over, so he had to do it all over again. He was pretty persistent. And then they had a hard time the first few years because he was small, a small person, and a greenhorn. About the only income work you could get then was to work for the irrigation company if you wanted to earn some money. And usually that was when the water was shut off and they had to clean and repair the ditches, open ditches. And he said they wouldn't hire him for a year or two because they thought well, he was a greenhorn. He wouldn't last anyway, and he was kind of small. But he stuck it out. And what happened was they had to put in some new pumps for the irrigation system, and these were larger pumps. They were three-phase motors, and there wasn't anybody immediately around that knew how to fix them, how to hook them up. Excuse me, I get very emotional. So he told them he thought he thought he could do it. He wasn't too sure. He said he could do it. He told them he could do it. He said he, personally, he said he wasn't too sure. But anyway, he went ahead with it and they worked fine. And after that, he said he didn't have any trouble getting a job for the irrigation district. And later on, several years after he got the farm started and everything, he did become manager of the irrigation district. When I talk about the irrigation district, it wasn't a huge one, but there was about 5,000 acres under water. And most of the farms were like ours, 20, 30 acres. And because you had to have a team of horses. You couldn't farm like you can nowadays with everything mechanized like it is. Lots of hand labor. So I was born in 1922, and I believe that they were still in this rented house. But in the meantime, they'd begun work on a basement, which was about half underground and half above ground with concrete side walls. And so it was above the ground enough, it had had fairly good sized windows. And there were just two rooms. The total probably wasn't more than 40 feet long and 20 feet wide. And above that they put a temporary sort of a shelter that was more of a tent house with a wooden roof and canvas with a wooden frame with canvas around it. And that was our bedroom. That was where we had our bedrooms. And it was cold in the winter and hot in the summer, but in the summertime you could roll the canvas up and the evening breeze would cool it off. In the wintertime we had feather beds and my mother would warm up hot irons on the cook stove, and we'd wrap them in towels and put in our beds. And we managed, thought we were living all right. There wasn't any bathroom--there was no indoor bathroom, no indoor water supply. He dug a well down below the hill. Had to do it by hand, about 20 feet deep. And the way to get water up to the house, he had a, we called it a stone boat, it was a sled. He hooked the horses to it, the sled, and to pretty good sized barrels, I suppose 40 gallon barrels or something. He'd fill them with water from the hand pump down below the hill. And he'd circle around it, bring that sled up. That was the water supply for a few days. But of course, it didn't always last long enough. And I can remember my mother carrying two buckets [EMOTIONAL] of water up the hill. Excuse me. It was a hard life for women, especially, carrying water up the hill, and all the other work they had to do then. She was in charge of the garden. Of course, we had our weekly bath by a copper tub on a cook stove. And the tub, and that's where we took our weekly bath, and shared the affair. The two rooms in the house were the kitchen and then where we ate. The other room was the living quarters and where somebody might sleep if they were not feeling well, otherwise we slept upstairs in the tent house. So those were the early days. It took them quite a little while for my dad to get established, and also get some crops down that they could pay for their living expenses. And they had Fresnos then that the team of horses would pull, and they'd scoop the dirt and dump it in the low places and level it out. And farmers worked together on that. I can remember our neighbors--as I said, most people lived within a quarter or a half mile of each other. The Barnetts and the Nickolauses lived close to us and we shared--when it was time to put in some of the crops, the Barnetts would come with their mowing machine and there would be two or three mowing machines and everything going on, and we'd go back and forth and get the job done.
Bauman: So what sorts of crops did you grow then?
Fletcher: We--it was truck farming. We had to raise--we had to have cows. Truck farming was not too reliable. You had to, to fall back on, you had a herd of cow--most all farmers had a herd of cattle which they had milk cows and some beef cows. And you milked the cow--you had your own milking and made your own cheese, but you could sell to the creamery in Kennewick. And we had a milk house where we'd separate the cream from the milk. And we had the Twin City Dairy, I think it was, would come by once a week and collect the milk. We'd keep the milk in a cool water place or something. I don't remember now in details. We didn't have refrigeration. Maybe they came back twice a week. I'm not sure. So we had a herd of cattle, and of course you always had a team of work horses. And I had a pony when I got old enough, about third grade I think. In school I got a pony that had been tamed--he had been one of the wild horses from Horse Heaven Hills. And a bunch of horses had been caught. And we bought it from another fella, and he as a real-- Shorty was his name, and I thought he was the greatest horse, because he could outrun any horse. We had horse races. And a lot of the kids, the only horse they had to ride was a work horse. So I was very fortunate. Anyway, we raised alfalfa for the cattle and the animals. Alfalfa and clover, and of course you had to mow the hay in the summertime and let it dry and put it up in wagons and carry it and take it into the hay stack for the winter. We also raised some acres of corn, of field corn, although we could eat some of the corn when it was quite young, but it was mostly raised for the cattle. And we had an in-ground silo where we had a—we’d bring in, when the corn was mature we'd cut it down with machetes and bring the corn stocks and ears and all and run it through the chopper and made silage out of it. It would ferment in this silo, which was about 20 feet deep and it was dug out near the barnyard. And about I guess 12 feet wide or so. As a kid it looked bigger, probably, than it actually was. But anyway, that was part of the barnyard. And with the silage and the haystack, we kept the cattle going through the winter. Because you had to have enough hay to get through and that took quite a load. And then for field crops, we had a cherry orchard of three or four acres. We raised asparagus three or four acres. And that was a job that--that was a cash crop that game on early in the year in March. And the whole family pitched in. We got up early, almost daybreak to cut the asparagus. Before school you had to have it cut. And then they'd go ahead and you had to pack it in crates to get it ready to market. So we had the asparagus, and then we had, between the trees in the orchard-- one time my dad experimented with peanuts. And I don't think they turned out too well because I don't remember him having them very long. We planted strawberries. We had strawberries that we picked after the asparagus was done, the strawberries would be get ripe. And then the cherries would get ripe in June usually. And so it was staggered out. And then we always had a field of potatoes that you'd dig with a team or horses and a digger. But before you did that, you had to get seed potatoes, and they came whole. The family would--we had a cellar in our house. We'd cut those potatoes into quarters, so there's an eye on each one and that would sprout into a potato plant. And we spent probably a couple weeks, maybe not that long, cutting the seed potatoes into where they could be planted in the field. And I'm trying to think of other crops that we had. I know he tried different ones. We had peas--peas in a pod. And I don't think that paid off too well because I don't remember it lasting too long. Oh, we had some peaches. Not a big orchard, but we had some peaches and apricot trees. Those were sort of under my mother's domain, the garden and the apricots. And she made sure that we all pitched in and helped do the weeding and planting and picking. And all of that had to be picked and canned for the winter. I can remember my mother and sisters working hard--doing a lot of work canning. And the cellar was just full of--they were quite proud to display, in those days, to display their glass jars of fruit, peaches and everything. And took it to the fair to see if they could win some blue ribbons. So we didn't buy too much from the local grocery store, except cooking oil and bananas--fruit that wouldn't grow here. Orange. Those were a treat. Just a few times during the year bananas and oranges we got at Christmastime or your birthday or something. And the store was John Dam's, John Dam Plazas down here, named after the Dam Grocery Store. And there were two men, John Dam and Victor Nelson. They ran the grocery store. And you didn't go looking for your things. You handed them a list. You wanted two gallons of kerosene for your lamps and lanterns that you needed. No electric lights. And as I said, cooking oil, and flour and sugar in bulk. And once in a while you'd get a treat of candy or something such as that. So I think that covers pretty much what the farm was like.
Bauman: The crops that you grew, the cherries, strawberries, did you sell those somewhere?
Fletcher: Yeah. We picked and put them in crates. There was what they called the Big Y--it was in Kennewick. And it stood for Yakima I think. Yakima--there was a branch of Yakima Produce Company. And later on I worked there nailing, making boxes for different kinds of fruit when I was in high school.
Bauman: Mm-hm.
Fletcher: In fact, most kids did extra jobs like that. Excuse me. I've got to take a drink.
Bauman: Sure.
Fletcher: All right.
Bauman: I was going to ask you about your farm. You mentioned some underground silo. Were there any other buildings on your farm? Any warehouse or barn or any of that sort of thing?
Fletcher: Yeah. There was a barn from the cows, of course. And there are pictures in my booklet of some of these chicken houses in the yard, a couple of chicken houses. And a milk house. We had pigs. The pigs consumed a lot of the excess milk. You could--they'd eat most anything you had that was extra. And that was another thing we shared was when it came time to butcher a cow or a calf or a pig for meat, there was a man that was sort of a local veterinarian--I don't think he had a degree--Sam Supplee. If your horse got sick, he knew what--or an animal got his foot caught in the barbed wire, he knew how to treat it. And he'd come by. And he also knew how to butcher animals quite well. And he would come out. And I can remember that we had a hole, a pit dug out where we could put a fire in there, and it was covered with some kind of bars or metal affair. And a vat of water would be put in that over the fire at ground level. And adjacent to that would be a platform where the pig was killed. And after it had been killed and the organs taken out, they'd roll it into that vat of boiling water and then pull it back out again after a few minutes. Then you could scrape the bristles off of the pig. And Sam Supplee then would do the rest of the butchering. They'd hang it up to cure overnight, and then to cut it up. And for his efforts, he'd get part of the meat, or other people that had helped out, and that's the way that they operated. And he was a local person they turned to. There were other veterinarians in Pasco or Kennewick, but he was the one that they mainly relied on. Our horses, we had two work horses, Star and Monte. I can remember them well, and that was one of my jobs when I got home from school, after, was usually to rub them down after a day's work in the field, because they'd be all sweaty. Or on days when I wasn't at school, too, in the summertime, too take them down to the ditch where they'd drink a lot of water. They got real hot and sweaty. And then take the harnesses off. And there's lots of preparation before you could do too much. And so those were some of my jobs was to take in--you got home from school, the first thing to do was take in the firewood for the wood stove or the heating stove. And there were plenty of other things to do around the barnyard, to clean out the stall, or clean out the barn and see that horses were fed and such things as that.
Bauman: Mm-hm.
Fletcher: The thing was, I think that maybe a little different than nowadays, kids knew that they were part of the family and that they were an important part of the family. And that they had jobs to do. And just it was the thing that made families close.
Bauman: Sure.
Fletcher: I wanted to mention, too, that we did have special family friends. I mentioned the Barnetts. And they had kids that were--Dan Barnett was about my age. And my sisters had--they had daughters. Anyway, they had kids about our same age. The Hackneys were another family that lived not very far away and had a farm. And there was Richard Hackney and Dan Barnett and I were always good friends for a long time. And some other kids in that area, the Supplees. So I guess I forgot where I was here. The Hackneys and the Fletcher families and the Carlsons were particularly close. The Carlsons also had children that were our ages. And we would get together for family picnics, and especially Fourth of July we'd make our homemade ice cream and take to Pasco Park where there'd be fireworks. And then in the summertime, we always had a break in the farm work of about four or five days where we could get away from the farm. Usually it was around the Fourth of July or a little bit after. And we would get away because the irrigation ditches were shut down for a few days, about four or five days in order for the ditches to dry out and the weeds could be cleaned out. Because they clogged up with moss and other stuff. So that they would dry out the ditches and we could get away from the farm, as long as we had a neighbor to take care of the animals that we had. And there were enough other people that would do that. We'd trade off. So we would manage to get away for about three or four days and go up to above Yakima, Naches and up into the woods. And we we'd take our tents. One of the, the Hackneys, Art Hackney was a school bus driver, and school bus driver had to have their own buses. They'd own their own buses. So he could do with the bus whatever he wanted during the summertime. So he would be the one that we would load up the bus--he took a few of the seats out that could be taken out-with our camping gear in it, and some of the rest of the people would ride in that bus and others would go in their car. We'd invite some of our friends to go along too. So we'd have quite a group and several tents set up there around the lake up at Naches, Rimrock and up in that area. We had a wonderful time up in there with all our friends, and sitting around the campfire at night and hearing the stories that the older folks had to tell. So that's--
Bauman: Mm-hm. A real sense of community there, yeah.
Fletcher: Yeah. Part of the community. It was a close-knit community for sure. And naturally, you had more close friends with some of the people than you did with others. But as I said in my book that there was no--when you were gone, nobody as I knew, locked their houses or worried about any of that sort of thing.
Bauman: Mm-hm. You mentioned earlier that the house you lived in there was no running water, right?
Fletcher: Right.
Bauman: No electricity. Did you ever have a telephone?
Fletcher: That's another little story. My mother, her relatives lived in Wallace, Idaho, and her uncle, aunt and uncle, her uncle was a master carpenter. And they were very close and would come down to visit us and they were very helpful. When we were, when my folks were just starting out, they were a backbone to help them out as much as they could. They bought eggs from them and they'd ship them. I have some letters that my mother saved of that period in time. You may be interested in some of those. Anyway, they would come down, and after my dad--after he had this basement house built, they was able to save up enough in about 10 years to--Josh Pentabaker was my uncle's granduncle's name--was the main carpenter. And they arranged to buy a load of lumber from a lumber yard or a sawmill up in Bickleton, and they rented a truck or got somebody to haul this load of lumber down. And this Josh Pentabaker and my dad, and I think he got some local help, to get started on building a house above to replace that tent--actually a tent house that we had above the basement house. And then they enlarged it also. They made the basement twice as large to accommodate a more modern house. And that was in 1933 or 1934. And I think it was 1934 before we occupied it. And that included indoor bathroom and running water. In the meantime, before my dad was able to build a dig a new well up on top of the hill, he had to go down 60 feet for groundwater. And so that was quite a project. But he finally got it done. And he got an electric motor then. By that time, see, there was no electricity until during Roosevelt got the REA started, rural electricity or whatever the word is, REA. And you got an electric pump to pump the water up into a tank. And then you had pressure to run the water from the tank into the house--had water pressure. And so we had running water, we had an indoor bathroom, and those were quite appreciated. I think we got electric stove--that was one of the first thing. And that was quite an improvement over a wood stove. Oh, and then there was. And he didn't have enough money, I don't believe—oh, let me tell you, or let me go back just a bit.
Bauman: Sure.
Fletcher: Josh Pentabaker got this house pretty well built, but he had to go back and do his own work back in Wallace, Idaho. And my dad negotiated with a carpenter here, a local carpenter, Vandersant-- he was a Dutchman. And my dad traded a cow, a milk cow for this fella to put in a--he was a master carpenter, too. He put in the kitchen cabinets, is what I'm trying to say, and some of the other cabinets in the bathroom and things like that in exchange for this cow. Now, there may have been other things involved, but that was the main thing. He told about that in later years, and I can vaguely remember. In addition to the basement then, we got a root cellar where we kept most of our things cold. But anyway, before he could get a refrigerator, he cut a hole in the wall of the kitchen and he made a cabinet inside, and hung outside a metal tank or a metal thing that held water. And then he ran down some gunnysack fabric and that wetted enough to evaporate and cool the cabinet inside. It was quite a contraption. But it worked enough that it probably wasn't much cooler than the basement, but anyway, it was up and it was handy. So that was when we--in 1934 I think that we occupied the house that's there now.
Bauman: Did you ever have a telephone during the time you were there?
Fletcher: Yeah, we had a phone. You cranked it. I'm trying to think whether we had it when we lived in the basement, whether we had it there or not. It was a party line, and there would be three or four people on the same line. And you answered according to how many rings. If it was two rings it was yours, or a short and a long or something like that. And of course people listened in on what was going on. We had a crank--it was, you cranked it up in order to make the signal. And there was a main station downtown. We were three miles from the downtown area up on what is now George Washington Way. And what's the name of that street? I can't remember all those--the house was on--
Bauman: Spangler?
Fletcher: Spangler, yeah. Spangler Road. We had to--you kept up--Dad kept up with what was available.
Bauman: Mm-hm. How about news? Was there a newspaper, or how did you learn about--
Fletcher: There was. There was the Benton County Advocate came out once a week. In fact, I think I still have some copies of that somewhere. It was mostly local, of course. Somebody was entertaining a company from Wallace, Idaho or somewhere, or somebody was sick in the hospital. Ed Peddicord was the--as I remember, he was older than myself but younger than my parents, and he became the first postmaster when the Hanford project took over, and he was the postmaster for quite a few years before he retired from the Richmond Post Office.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about the school that you went to. Where was the school? Any memories you have?
Fletcher: Okay, there were, in the downtown area of Richland, the--I'm trying to relate it to--the grade school went from grade one through grade eight. And it was two story with four classrooms on the bottom and four on the upper level. I think they had electric lights, as I remember. The floors were wood floors, and they treated them with oil before school was started and at Christmas vacation. So when you came back from school--they'd wipe them up, the oil--they'd treat the wood floors. They'd wipe up the oil before classes started, but there would still be all these spots left on it. And so we had to take our shoes off when we came home at night because we would track oil, that oil. That was just for a few weeks or for a week or two. And the stoves had a jacket around. Of course they were--I believe they were coal stove--they that coal. And there would be a jacket around, a metal jacket around the outside to it, a couple of feet from the stove itself so the kids couldn't get up and get burned. But the jacket that surrounded them was probably three or four feet high, metal jacket. And we would—I remember hanging our white gloves things on that metal jacket to dry them out. And that was in the back of the room of course. That was your heat in the classroom. As I said, the bathrooms for boys and girls, most of them separate of course, were outside where you went out to the bathroom. And I don't recall any running water or anything in the—The other, the high school was, it wasn't torn down when the project started, Hanford project, right away. And it was built more--it had indoor bathrooms, was more up-to-date, more than the grade school, four levels. There are pictures of it in my booklet. So that was quite a step up.
Bauman: Do you remember any of the teachers from either school, or do you have any favorite teachers from that time?
Fletcher: Oh yeah. I remember most of my teachers. My first grade teacher, Ms. Randolph, older lady. And she was very good. I can remember putting our mittens up around that canopy around the stove in the wintertime, put your mittens up to dry. And I can't offhand remember, but I can visualize most of my teachers. There was Mrs.--Miss Mallory--she was single then. Taught me in fourth grade. And there was Bill Rader, our eighth grade teacher. Kind of he was a pretty good disciplinarian. If people got out of line, he had a paddle that he didn't mind using. There was--I can't think of the names, really, offhand. And then of course, in the high school I remember more of the teachers that I had. The superintendent, he also taught a few classes in, because the grade school had one class of every grade level. I started in the first grade, I was five years old, and I became six in November. And the kids that I started with, about half of the 20--I think there were 20 in my graduating class--about half of them were the ones I started in first grade with. That's how permanent the group was. There was a lot of permanency. And we moved onto this--where each grade you had the same ones, you knew the people. There would be two or three changes each year. And like I said, of those 20 or so that started, probably about half of those in my high school class were the ones I started first grade with. And so we knew each other very well. And the others I'd known quite well, too. My wife, she came later and joined when she was in about seventh or eighth grade I think, and she graduated two--I graduated in 1940 and she graduated in 1942. And in my graduating class there was 20, and hers there was only 12. I don't know why particularly. The high school, it was in freshman year you usually took Typing and it pretty well diversified. History classes, English classes. I can remember the teachers, Mrs. Deighton and Mrs. Carmichael. She's the one that got very emotional when the kids acted up and would carry on. Mr. Carmichael was the superintendent, and Mr. Whitehead, rather. We had basketball teams. We played against--Kennewick and Pasco were out of our league. They were from too big a town. So we played Benton City. I played--even though I'm pretty short, I was on the basketball team. We didn't have a football team. We weren't big enough. [LAUGHTER] The high school was only--with four classes, probably only 80 students altogether. And so I was on the basketball team the last couple years anyway. And we would go up to--Hanford was about 20 miles upriver, and White Bluffs. They were a comparative size. And to Benton City, and also to Finley. We used to call it Riverview then. It was a comparative size to what we were in Richland at that time. So we had a group that we played softball league and basketball. No football that I can remember. We weren't big enough to be in that.
Bauman: And did you take a school bus to get to and from school then, or how did you--
Fletcher: Yes. We had--as I said, Art Hackney had a school bus that they owned their own school bus. They had a contract with the district. And there's a picture of myself and my two sisters in that booklet I gave you, waiting for the bus and there's a picture of the bus. It was kind of a--it looks kind of obsolete now, but that was the way they did things then.
Bauman: So you graduated high school in 1940.
Fletcher: 1940. Then I went off to Cheney for a year. And decided I wanted to--didn't want to continue there. I wanted to--I thought I wanted to be an engineer, but I didn't have really the background from the school. At least I could blame it on that. So I transferred to Pullman in my sophomore year. And during beginning of my junior year, I was taken in--I was in the ROTC and we signed up for deferment or whatever you call it, but they said we could finish out the year we were in during my sophomore year. No, it must have been my junior year. That’s the third year. But it turned out that they couldn't—they took us, they drafted us and I think it was about January of my junior year in Pullman, from WSU. And at that time I was a member of Sigma Chi. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So was that January of 1943 then?
Fletcher: Yeah, it was.
Bauman: At some point that year, of course the Federal government started constructing the Hanford site.
Fletcher: Right. I came home before--they allowed us, when they called up the ROTC, fellas in Pullman, they gave us a couple weeks to come home and see our folks. So I came home, it must have been the end of January of 1943. And saw my folks, and said goodbye to my sweetheart, Betty Kinsey was her name--became my wife. And after I went back then, I went back to Pullman, and they took us shortly by train from Pullman over to Fort Lewis. And it was an old, real old train that I mention in my booklet that looked like it was one from the pioneer days. There was a--I don't need to go into all the detail, but there was a coal-burning stove in the end of this railway car for heat, and we went over there in the first of February to Fort Lewis. We were not in the army until they took us over there and were forced in it at Fort Lewis. And shortly after that, I got word from my folks that the word had come out that Hanford and White Bluffs and even Richland, it was all going to be taken over by the government for this Hanford project. And that was in, I believe they got word in late February. And the people up at Hanford, which is, of course, is where the actual reactors were, were notified and given about 30 days to evacuate. And my folks, of course, we lived--my dad was the manager of the irrigation district at that time, of the Richland irrigation district. And they had more time because that was where the workers were going to live. But in the meantime they built Camp Hanford out here where we are sitting about right now, and maybe just a little further north. And you probably have the history of Camp Hanford and all that. But anyway, they were allowed to stay I think about six months, whereas the others further up where the reactors were being built, they had to get out quick. And so my folks looked around. They bought a place. My dad, by that time, they offered some of the people work. Most of them were farmers and they wanted to continue farming. And that was my dad. He, by that time, the kids were gone. I was the youngest. The other two, my sisters, were married and off and living on their own. So he decided he'd go back to farming, and they offered him a job to see to some of the irrigation, the way it was continued. But he decided he didn't want to do that. And a number of people did take jobs here for temporary. So where was I now? [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So your family had six months you said after they were--
Fletcher: Yeah, about six months. They found a place in Kennewick then, and my dad then bought some place and he put in a fruit orchard over on what became Blossom Hill in Kennewick. And we took over the old house. When I got out of the Army--I told you about that in my booklet here, that we took over their house, the two-story house that was on what's now where Denny's is at the corner of Kennewick Avenue and the Umatilla Highway.
Bauman: Do you know how much money your parents were given for their--
Fletcher: In those days, at that time, the government was not as benevolent in their takeover of land. And they did not really offer what the land was worth. So my folks, my dad was one of the leaders of the group that took them to court over the offer. And this lingered on for quite a while, because my dad was one of the--as a manager of the irrigation district. And John Dam that the park is named after, and two or three others, they figured that they were being offered what the land had sold for in Depression days, which had just been more or less begun to get over in 1943. And my folks and others were beginning to feel established, that here they'd worked most of their working lives for 12, 15 years getting to where they felt like they were established and could make a good living. And now they were being offered this, where they had to leave relatively quickly. And not being offered enough to buy something comparable in other areas, where they found they had to pay more than what they had been offered. So this went to court and drug on for a while. They did get a settlement that my dad was involved in. But it took quite a while and it still did not--they were not too happy about it. I'll put it that way. But anyway, they got over it.
Bauman: And so you heard about this happening when you were at Fort Lewis?
Fletcher: Yeah, I was still in the service. I was sent from there to Camp Roberts for infantry training. And I was there until June. See, this happened--I was taken in up in February I guess it was, and we had 13 weeks, almost four months, I think it was, of infantry training there in Camp Roberts in the desert in California. And then I was sent back to New York City. I had an opportunity--then they took some people to specialized training or a specialized training program called ASTP and I was able to get into that because of my college background and I passed some tests, I guess, and so forth. And so I was back there at the time and at Camp Roberts in California at the time that all this took place in Richland, and their dislocation and--
Bauman: Do you remember what you thought at the time when you found out?
Fletcher: [LAUGHTER] What I thought about that? About all this happening you mean?
Bauman: Yeah.
Fletcher: Well, so much was happening, you didn't have time to think too much about it. Because I was involved in the training and we were kept busy night and day pretty much, and then the infantry training camp and being back there. But I heard about it. They kept me up on it, and there wasn't much you could do about it, and neither could they, because that was it. You could appeal, but that was a long process, the appeal was. So they just took a time to get over it. They got over it eventually.
Bauman: Are there any events or things from your childhood growing up in Richland that sort of stand out? Special memories that we haven't talked about yet?
Fletcher: Probably quite a few things. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Fletcher: A number of things I mention in his booklet that I gave you. One thing I particularly remember as a kid was I had this pony, and my neighbor kids had ponies too, or else work horses that did the job. And so we could roam around quite a bit. We had a lot of freedom. We all had rifles. We went out hunting. And the jackrabbits were quite numerous, I remember. Going just about a mile from where we are now, there was a sand hill over here off of Stevens Drive, which we called Pole Line Drive. Those days there was a sand hill over there. And there was an irrigation ditch that ran along this sand hill. And we'd go in and the boys--take our clothes off and we'd swim in this irrigation canal. There was a flume there, too, and that was kind of an interesting thing to go through. And we would take our rifles, and there was one farm that was close to this sand hill called--I'm trying to remember the name now, Sam's. Anyway, he had a--his farm was right adjacent to the open sagebrush land and sand hill. And if you were there in the evening--he had an alfalfa field right along the edge of this sort of a desert area. At certain times in the dusk, there'd be whole bunches of jackrabbits would come in. I remember we would go there with our rifles, and my friends, Dan Barnett and Richard Hackney and I, and we'd wait for dusk. And you could shoot these rabbits. And of course Mr. Sandberg I think his name- yeah, Sandberg was his name, he welcomed anybody that would get rid of the jackrabbits for him because they were destroying his alfalfa field. And so we'd shoot a bunch of jackrabbits. And they did have jackrabbit drives once in a while, and they had pictures of them. I might have some in some of my folks' stuff. But anyway, we had ponies or horses and we'd go out, and sometimes we'd go up the river from here, Dan Barnett and Richard Hackney and I. And as I said, I had a pony that had been caught on the open range and he could outrun practically any horse around. We would go up there and we'd camp out for a day and we would find some old prospectors up there. They would be panning for gold. And I don’t think, from the looks of them that they found very much, but they were interesting characters that'd tell you stories about their life. And we kind of envied them a little bit, but nobody wanted to do what they were doing. Anyway, then we would go up there and we'd camp overnight. Other times, we would go up there--I said that my folks and the Barnetts and the Hackneys had-- we had a boom in the river. We'd catch driftwood coming down for our--did I tell you about this before?
Bauman: No.
Fletcher: No, okay. If I ramble, tell me. We'd go up, my folks or my dad and the other men, we would have wagons--we'd hook the work horses to the wagons. And we'd take enough food to last a couple days. And us boys would go along, and some other boys were old enough to help, and some of us were too young to do much, but to tag along and have a good time. And we'd go up there and we'd set up a camp, and the men would have a log boom up there. They'd attach logs to each other and run them out into the water. And when the water would rise in the spring, it would lift these drift logs from upstream, clear up around where Grand Cooley is now, before Grand Cooley was built and any other dams. And these drift logs would drift down, if you had a log boom out you'd catch them, as the water would--the high water from the snow melt. And if your log boom was out far enough, you'd get a whole bunch of logs in there and that would be--which then we'd go up and the men would take their team of horses and use their chains to pull these logs out of the water that had been caught in the log boom. And then they'd have to cut them up enough to put on their wagons to haul them down home. And this would take two or three days to do. In the meantime, us kids, the younger ones, we'd have a great time with shooting rabbits and doing some fishing off what was left of the log boom. And fixing our hot dogs over the campfire. It was quite an experience. And we all wanted to go. I think the girls envied us. They couldn't go. I don't remember any of the women going. But when they got the wagons loaded, they had them all--I remember they had sideboards on them, so that they would be loaded up to the maximum. And of course the roads weren't too good. The horses would be really worn out by the time we got these loads down to where we lived. And we'd have to wash them off, rinsing the horses off with a hose because they'd be all that, and it would be quite late in the evening before we made it home. So that was quite a big event in our lives, and especially for the young fellas like us, we thought that was great. I'm sure the men folks were glad it was over. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Fletcher: So we had quite a few trips where we went out. I had a friend, Scotty who lived out in Yakima River, and I would go over--he was the one that I think I told you about the time that--maybe it was in my booklet. About the time that our well--the well that we dug up on the top of the hill, the 60 foot well, it had been real cold that winter, and usually the well didn't freeze, but it froze that winter. And so Scotty, my friend, he was the adventurer more so than I was. He said, oh, I can go take a blowtorch down there and thaw it out. Well, he did. My dad led him down this well. The well was hand dug and it was only about so big around. And there were iron steps put in the cement as they went down. As I said, it was 60 feet deep. Of course the water stood up in it about 20 feet or so. It would fluctuate. So Scotty went down with a blowtorch to thaw this pipe out because it had frozen the pump. And he got down there and I guess the confines of the gas or something, it exploded, and he was lucky he wasn't killed. He made it. Somehow it went upward rather than downward and he was able to get out. But his face was black and his eyebrows were singed off. And he was quite a mess from that occasion, but he didn't have to be hospitalized. They put cream on his face and I don't remember whether they got the pipe thawed out or not. I don't think so. I think it took a few days before it got the water up.
Bauman: So if someone was to ask you what it was like to grow up in a community like Richland, how would you respond to that? What would you say?
Fletcher: It was an interesting place to grow up because you were involved in all the activities. You were important as a member of the family. There were chores to do. You also had interesting experiences. You had time to play with your neighbors and develop your own activities and sports to a great extent. I guess probably I look back on it more with rose-colored glasses than it actually was, because I'm sure it was harder for the adults, too. Because it was kind of touch and go for them many times. There was no WPA or relief organizations. People helped their neighbors out when they needed it. I can remember a family that lived not too far from us. The man, the husband died, and they had some fairly young children, the Fraziers. And the wife was left with these--I forgot how young they were--two or three youngsters, and their small farm. And the people of the community just helped out. There was no other organization that they knew of. And later, Bruce Frasier who was in that family, who was about my age. He wasn't a classmate, but he told me years later at the reunions we used to have, he said, did you know-- [EMOTIONAL] did you know how much help your mom and dad did--I'm sorry.
Bauman: It's all right.
Fletcher: How much help your mom and dad gave my folks. And I said I had no idea. He told me that my dad and mother, and others--he said it wasn't just them. But they're the ones that made it possible for him to survive. And this, they didn't talk about it at all. Excuse me, cut it off a minute? Wipe my eyes here. I'm glad to get this opportunity. Don't take me wrong.
Bauman: That’s all right.
Fletcher: I am glad to get the opportunity to talk. There's not too many people who want to listen to it.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Fletcher: Can I have a little drink?
Bauman: Sure. I think we're just about finished anyway. I think we've covered a lot of the things that I wanted to cover.
Fletcher: All right.
Bauman: So I guess is there anything else that we haven't covered that would be important to talk about?
Fletcher: I think we've covered everything pretty well. I've probably gone side-tracked a lot. And it was a role in that community, as I said, that they did help each other out in many ways. And that they're very independent, too. And there aren't too many of us left. We still get to have a reunion. We did-- it's getting down to where there aren't very many of us left. Last year we met at the Old Country Buffet and I had a good time. I think there may have been about 20 of us. But about half of them were descendants, children that brought their parents, who needed help to get there.
Bauman: Oh, okay. So this is a reunion of people from Richland?
Fletcher: The old time Richland, yeah, they lived in old time Richland. There's another-- the Deranleau, Ray Deranleau, he was quite a storyteller, he still lives here, and he was just a year or two younger than myself. And Alice Perkins is his wife, Alice Perkins-Deranleau. And I kind of think he'd be in the phone book. If not—
Bauman: Yeah.
Fletcher: And Price Colley. George Colley his name was, but there's a Colley family that he was there last year, and he's quite a storyteller.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] About what time of year do you usually get together?
Fletcher: Usually in the middle of September.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Fletcher: Middle to late September. Edith--I used to be the one that was in charge of getting the literature out and the reunions set up. Anyway, Edith Wiedle-Hansen, H-A-N-S-E-N, is the one that is doing it now. She was in my wife's class two or three years behind me in graduating from high school. And she's still here. I could maybe give you some more information on that later, if you wanted to call me.
Bauman: Yeah.
Fletcher: I don't know, if you have trouble.
Bauman: I just want to thank you very much for coming in today and being willing--
Fletcher: I enjoyed it.
Bauman: --to have me asking questions.
Fletcher: Okay. I hope that some of it’s good use.
Bauman: You've been very helpful. Thank you very much.
Northwest Public Television | Roop_Betty_Jane
Robert Bauman: Ready to go? All right. OK, we'll go ahead and start.
Betty Jane Roop: Okay.
Bauman: Let's start by having you say your name and spell it for us.
Roop: Okay. My name is Betty Jane Roop. R-O-O-P is the last name.
Bauman: Thank you. My name is Robert Bauman and today's date is July 22nd of 2014. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And you go by Jane.
Roop: I go by Jane. Mm-hm.
Bauman: So let's start, Jane, if you could talk about how and when your family arrived here in the Tri-Cities. What brought your family here?
Roop: Okay. My dad ran away when he was about 13 years old, 14 years old and he ended up in the Roundhouse at Pasco. And eventually made his way back home, but always remembered this place. And so when he was out of the service for World War II, he decided we'd move here because there was work. And so we came in 1949 and lived here until the Army base closed down in North Richland in '56, '57. And so that's how we got here.
Bauman: And how old were you at the time?
Roop: I was about five.
Bauman: And do you have any memories, or what are some of your earlier memories of the area?
Roop: I guess the earliest memory was living in what's called old Navy housing in Pasco. That was kind of a community and I remember playing there as a kid. And then we lived there for a while. And then we move to the trailer court in North Richland and I started kindergarten there. And some of my earliest remembrances are how cold it was walking to school. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: What was the trailer camp like? Could you describe that at all?
Roop: Well, it was the largest trailer camp in the world and we were very proud of that. And it was just block after block of trailers. And there was approximately, oh, I don't know, let's see, 20 trailers on each side of a block and they were usually divided up, and there was a big bath house in the middle. Because at that time, a lot of the trailers didn't have washing machines or even bathrooms. So in the middle of that block was a big cement house, bathroom, wash room, and that kind of thing. And it was a wonderful place for kids to grow up. There were lots of kids around all the time and we would live very close and I remember it just being a very safe environment, especially during the summer when we would play until it was dark, and often hid in that bath house.
Bauman: And what about the school? What was the school like?
Roop: Well, at John Ball, it was a huge Quonset hut school. It had a long center part, kind of like a centipede. And then off of that long center part came the classrooms. And again, one of the things I remember as a kid is that you couldn't get in. And during the winter, you had to wait until the halls were open to get inside and it was very cold. And at that time, girls, you weren't allowed to were dresses—or pants. You had to sort of wear pants underneath your dress. So you would dress kind of double layer with a dress on top and the pants underneath because it was so cold and you had to wait outside to get in. But my first goal was to become a hall monitor so I could get in out of the cold. [LAUGHTER] And the younger, the first, second, third grades were on one end and the fourth, fifth, and sixth were on the other end. And it was a small school, a relatively small school. But I remember lots of fond memories of that school and I started kindergarten there and left in sixth grade when they closed it down.
Bauman: And was it like K through eight, or do you know how--
Roop: I don't think we went through eighth grade. I think it only went through sixth.
Bauman: Okay.
Roop: Yeah. I'm pretty sure. It was just through sixth. And I think they went into Richland then, to one of the schools there.
Bauman: So what sort of job did your father have then?
Roop: He was first a teamster and worked loading, getting people to and from the site from a major--there was a huge bus center. In fact, I think it's still there to some extent. And he worked there as a teamster. And then after a few years, he took training and became a pipe fitter and was a pipe fitter out there until it closed down.
Bauman: And where had you lived before this?
Roop: We came from Oklahoma. My dad was in the Navy until, I think about after the war, '44, '45. He was stationed in Hawai’i. And after the war, we came out here, because it was a time of just finding work and it was a lot of work here.
Bauman: And did you have any idea what sort of place Hanford was, what sort of work was being done at Hanford?
Roop: You know, as a kid, what I remember most is all the kind of secrecy and the whispering. Like you didn't know what was really going on, but Rattlesnake Mountain to us kids was always a very mysterious place. Because it was like over there, there was something really big and scary. So I remember that being—because it dominates the landscape even today. And nobody really talked about their work, but you knew things were going on there that you couldn't talk about.
Bauman: So you lived in the trailer camp from about 1950 or so?
Roop: Yeah, it was about '50 to '56, '57, and there was a big Army base out there. And when they closed the Army base, they closed a lot of the trailers. It shrunk in size. So a lot of people moved from one part of the trailer court to another part if they were still employed. And so it kind of shrunk and it's mostly where Battelle is right now--
Bauman: Right. Right.
Roop: --where that area where all the trailers were and the school and everything.
Bauman: And what about your family then? What happened to your family?
Roop: After they closed down, my dad worked, I think it was only less than a year and then he went back in the Navy. And from there then he went for training in Oklahoma, and then he went to the Philippines, and then we moved as a family to Midway Island, and then came back here. He got out of the Navy again in about '61, '60, I think it was, and then we came back here to this area and lived here pretty much ever since. Until my dad died, he lived here—1991. So we came back in about '60, '61 and he was here until he is death in '91.
Bauman: And he came to work at Hanford?
Roop: He didn't. He did for a while, and then he became an independent trucker, which was always his passion.
Bauman: And so how old were you then when you came back?
Roop: I was a junior in high school when we came back. So I left when I was in sixth grade and then came back when I was a junior.
Bauman: And which high school did you go to then?
Roop: Col High. Columbia High. I was a Bomber, still a Bomber.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And what was the community like when you came back and high school? Could you describe that?
Roop: Well, when I came back, of course, North Richland was no longer here. And all those usual signs and maybe people have talked about this—well, where we're sitting now was an area where we did some hunting and bringing our dogs down next to the river. And then on the other side of the GW Way was a huge outdoor theater right below that hill. And all of these kind of landscape—that landscape was pretty much gone by then. And we moved into a smaller trailer court for a little while on Stevens Drive, right off of Stevens Drive. And then my dad did go—I think he might have returned to work for a little bit out at Hanford as a pipe fitter, but as soon as he kind of got himself organized, he bought a truck and started trucking in the area.
Bauman: So going back then to your earlier childhood in North Richland, were there services there and in the trailer camp, grocery stores or something?
Roop: Yes. Yes, there was. There was a theater that I remember very well, and it was actually on the Army base and almost everything was. There was a grocery store and I can't remember the name of it. There was a post office. There was a theater. There was a beautiful little park that we used to ride our bikes to that kind of looked at the grocery store. Maybe there was a block between or maybe a quarter mile, but a nice little park there.
Bauman: Like a park with play equipment, sort of thing?
Roop: Not play equipment, but trees and benches. Yeah. And we didn't really leave the area to do grocery shopping at all. If you wanted to go, there wasn't any place to really eat. There was not like diner or a cafe. And I remember we used to go into the Thrift Way into Richland every Friday night for a roast beef sandwich dinner. [LAUGHTER] And my mother worked in that grocery store for a little while as a checker.
Bauman: Do you remember the name of the theater?
Roop: I don't remember the name, and it was just right there on the Army post. And then, of course, later, the one downtown--well, there's the old, The Players where The Players are now. But there was another theater, sort of where the Desert--I'm remembering the old name, but where the Red Lion Hotel is. But there was another theater there in that block, a regular movie theater. And I can remember going there as a child and mostly seeing war movies that scared me, because they made a lot of stuff like that after the war, about the war.
Bauman: Were there any doctors’ offices in North--did you have come into Richland for medical appointments?
Roop: Yes, yes, we did. I don't remember them being any doctors and I had asthma as a child and I was often—4:00 in the morning we were heading somewhere. But mostly all of those kind of services were actually in Richland. And certainly in '62 when we got back, it was all still in Richland. And I was a patient of Dr. Corrado’s for many years. And he's a well-known physician in the neighborhood, in the community.
Bauman: Right. So at what point did you become aware of what was being made at Hanford, the work that was being done at Hanford?
Roop: I don't think I really understood for years what was really going on there. I think I was an adult before I really knew that they were making plutonium and uranium and things like that. Because we just didn't talk about it. You just didn't talk about it. And I guess the only thing, really, I would say was that we had to do the drills that you do that most kids did by--with their head over, you know, putting--
Bauman: Desk cover.
Roop: --underneath your desk and all that. We—in fact, that is one of the poem I wrote that's in Particles on the Wall is about. Our drill was too right to go outside and there was a huge, sandy ditch, huge, long ditch--I don't know if you've ever seen a picture of it, I brought one--where we had to go outside and lay down in the ditch face down with our hands like this, in this ditch. And so we always knew it was often very scary and we knew that we were in a place that was targeted. I think kids felt that. That we were in a dangerous place because of the area, but we didn't know why. And we didn't know what it was. And I was trying to remember when exactly I knew what they made. And it wasn't--I think for sure I was an adult. And I talked with a fellow who worked in one of the plants out there. He explained to me how those plants really worked, like a pressure cooker and everything. And do you know something? I think I was 30-some years old before I really knew. So you just had all these--the innuendo of it.
Bauman: You had some sense it had to do with defense or something.
Roop: Defense, and it was scary. And of course, in high school, we knew of the bomber, so we knew of the bomb. I think I must have realized that part of what they did out there was making that bomb, but I can't tell you exactly how I got to know it.
Bauman: Right. So you were in North Richland from about kindergarten through about sixth grade, you said.
Roop: Mm-hm.
Bauman: Did you stay in touch with any of the families or any of your friends in that school?
Roop: Yes. There were the Keyeses. Yes, they had kids my age and we played together an awful lot. So there was three families that I sort of knew after that, but the Keyeses I did stay in touch with and they had a son a couple years younger than I was and he died about 10 or 15 years ago. He was younger and his brother died even at a younger age. I did stay in touch with them in knew them many years after. But it's funny. I know that there are other families, but we didn't stay too much in touch. There was about four families that every now and then we'd run into. But we didn't socialize and didn't get together like that except the Keyeses.
Bauman: You mentioned a little bit earlier the drill of laying down in the ditch in the sand. Were there any other things that you remember from growing up that were connected to Hanford?
Roop: Like the secrecy?
Bauman: Yeah, the secrecy, or anything.
Roop: Well, I knew that you couldn't go across--you could only drive out on the highway that goes north so far and then there was a checkpoint. And of course, when I grew up, there was no road that you could drive across to Vantage.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Roop: Okay. That was all restricted area. And I think you could go as far as what was the first gate and then take sort of a left and go west to Yakima, but all of that area was off limits. And you know, I can't even remember the Geiger counter things that I know some of the people, the poets who read in Particles on the Wall, they remember the Geiger counters and that kind of thing. But I can't say I even remember that. Yeah.
Bauman: So in looking back at those years, overall, how would you describe your childhood, I guess, in North Richland?
Roop: Well--and that's what my poem is about--in many ways, because it was a small community and we all lived very close together, pretty much everybody knew what everybody else was doing and all the kids played together or didn't, but everybody knew who was fighting with who. That was a wonderful part, but it had this dark kind of cloud over it that was kind of scary as a kid. And the other thing that I remember from that time in the trailer court is that we had a ghetto inside the trailer court. And not too many people really remember this, that there was still segregation and all of the black people lived in one block, sort of in the middle of the school. And I only remember--and I went back and I saw pictures of John Ball's schools, each class, and there was one black boy named Maurice in there, but he was the only one. And I used to love walking through that area because it smelled so good, of all kinds of smells, cornbread and black eyed peas and greens and stuff. And so I remember that area and one person that I was describing that to who read my poem was very upset. She said, well, that's not true, but it really was true. We did have that area.
Bauman: Well, yeah. I know much of the Tri-Cities was segregated at the time too. So about how large of an area was that then, with the trailer area that was the black area, I guess.
Roop: It was very small. I would say it was one block. Just one block, maybe on each side. So we're talking maybe up to 30 or 40 families, maybe, but very small and one child, one black child in that school.
Bauman: And they only had one child in the school.
Roop: Mm-hm.
Bauman: And that was like that as far as you can remember, the whole time you were--
Roop: Yes, that there was a segregated area, yes.
Bauman: Interesting.
Roop: Yeah.
Bauman: Do you have your poem with you?
Roop: Yes, I do.
Bauman: I wonder if it might be good to have you read it.
Roop: Okay. I would be happy to.
Bauman: Because that would tie in with the answer you've been giving to my questions and so forth.
Roop: Okay. And I have that and then I also have--it's kind of a bad picture, but I can't get it any better, and you might off the internet—but of the children actually lying in the ditch. That was in The Tri-City Herald, and I found it on the archive site for the Col High Bomber site. And it does tell on that site--and I do have it at home, I just didn't bring it—of who took the picture. And I believe that that was taken somewhere in the early '50s.
Bauman: Do you remember how regularly these drills happened?
Roop: About once a month.
Bauman: Okay.
Roop: About once a month.
Bauman: Wow. Okay.
Roop: And so if you want me to do this, I'd be glad to do that.
Bauman: Yeah. That would be great, I think.
Roop: Okay. And took a class in how to read your poetry, so let me get in the mindset here.
Bauman: Sure.
Roop: Because I've read it a couple of places and--Okay. "North Richland Childhood," by Jane Roop. "We came from Oklahoma, Momma, Daddy, and me after the war, dirt poor, to live in a 20-by-8-foot trailer on a 30-by-30-foot lot with other electricians, pipe fitters, teamsters, janitors, proud to be part of this atomic business, living in the largest trailer court in the world. Big enough to have our own ghetto, two blocks of dark, delicious smells, frying fish, boiled greens, hot cornbread. Once a month, from the top of tall poles, warning sirens wailed. The schoolchildren, black and white, raced by swings, monkey bars, the tetherball ring, to the sandy ditch behind John Ball Elementary. Strung ourselves down like paper dolls, clinching our fear behind closed eyes. A useless attack, a defense against a nuclear attack, but we would have been easy to bury there." And I did find out later that there was some science behind being in a ditch. According to one of my scientific friends here now, they thought that if you were in a ditch and sort of down that the wave would pass you by. But as a child, it never made any sense. But that's the poem and that's traveling with Particles on the Wall.
Bauman: Right. Thank you very much for reading that. That's great.
Roop: You're welcome.
Bauman: As you were talking, I thought of one other thing that I hadn't asked you. Were there any places of worship, any churches--
Roop: Oh, yes.
Bauman: --at camp there?
Roop: Oh, yeah. I don't remember them being in the camp. We went to the Lutheran church on George W. Way that is now the Chinese. And then, of course, there was, still is the huge Baptist church there. And so during my childhood, I attended both of those at different times. Yes, but I can't remember and I'm sure there must have been on the base something for people, but we didn't attend there. We went into Richland.
Bauman: Okay. Great. Is there anything I haven't asked you about or that you think is important to share that you haven't been able to mention yet?
Roop: Well, I was just trying to think. It was just a special time, special memories. It's funny. As kids, you do remember things that were scary.
Bauman: It's also very unique. I mean, not a lot of people grow up in a place like that, connected to something like that.
Roop: Yes. And of course, we were always afraid of the rattlesnakes. [LAUGHTER] And the river because at that time the river was very fast when we first moved here. It wasn't dammed up, and it was always a great threat. And one of our things was not to go to the river. You don't go down there. And of course, that's where we went, you know. That's the way kids are. But I can remember that being very frightening.
Bauman: Right.
Roop: But other than that, yeah. Good memories too.
Bauman: Right. Well, thank you very much for coming and sharing your stories today.
Roop: You’re welcome.
Bauman: I appreciate that very much.
Roop: Okay. Yeah.
Bauman: Do you have a couple of minutes?
Man one: Yes.
Roop: And I was trying to remember because I lived at 825 E Street. And I think it was A Street, down by the river, but I can't remember exactly.
Bauman: Oh, okay. We'll go ahead.
Man one: Would you mind your adjusting your microphone?
Roop: Oh.
Man one: It's sort of just kind of twisting a bit.
Roop: There. Does that do it?
Man one: Excellent. Thank you.
Bauman: So I wonder if you could talk about the housing differences with the different classes of workers.
Roop: Okay. Sure. What I remember most, of course, is that all the administrative people and scientists were living in houses in Richland in the ABC houses and that kind of thing. All the blue collar workers, electricians, pipe fitters, janitors, anything like that, North Richland trailers. And then there was sort of a mixed class that lived in houses down along the river, close to the river, but parallel to the trailer court, and they had houses as well. And there was approximately, I'm trying to think, maybe one row down kind of on the river, then one row kind of back just a little bit. And I believe that that was A Street—A and B. I lived on E Street. So that's how I remember that. And then, of course, there was the Army base where people lived there as well.
Bauman: Right. So you were you aware of that sort of growing up?
Roop: Oh, yes. You betcha. Oh, yeah. Yes. Because living in a trailer house was always at least then, rather, I mean, you were poor and you knew you were poor. And you knew you were poor, for me, because I couldn't wear the same kind of clothes that other kids wore. And that goes back forever, doesn't it? That I can remember it was a very big deal to buy a Pendleton skirt, a wool skirt. It was very expensive, and my mother bought me one, one time. And that was a great treat. Do you remember Laverne and Shirley and the poodle skirts and that kind of thing? That's the way it was then. Yeah. So there was very definitely class distinctions.
Bauman: Did you talk about it in your family at all or is it just sort of an understood thing?
Roop: I think the only way it really came out was, for me, was the clothes. I don't remember--as soon as you could, you moved up into a trailer, the first one that we lived in, like in the poem, didn't have a running toilet and I don't believe a shower. So the first thing that you did was try to get a trailer big enough and wide enough so that you could have a bathroom. We never had a wash room and you hung your clothes up on a big drying area. They had clotheslines in the bath house region. And I've always thought, I bet you that's the reason everybody use Clorox because in those days, everybody got to see your linen and your underwear. [LAUGHTER] Everybody could tell whether it was white or not because that's the way things were then. And I can remember getting washed in one of those big, square, cement tubs when I got like a ringworm. What do you call that? And you had to go and be washed in that kind of thing and that was the biggest place where I could be in something like a bathtub. So I was washed in that big bathtub in the wash house. But then as soon as you could get a big enough trailer, and then, of course, the next step was to try to get a house.
Bauman: A house.
Roop: Yeah.
Bauman: Right. All right. Thank you very much.
Roop: You're welcome. You're welcome. Yeah.
Northwest Public Television | Shea_Bob
Robert Bauman: --start. So let's start, first of all, just by having you say your name and spell it for us.
Robert Shea: Okay. Yeah. My name is Bob Shea.
Bauman: And can you get the last name spelling?
Shea: Oh, S-H-E-A.
Bauman: Great. Thank you. And my name is Bob Bauman, and today's date is November 13th of 2013, and we're conducting this interview on campus Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So maybe if we could start by having you talk about when you and your family arrived here at Hanford, and talk a little bit about maybe your first impressions of the place.
Shea: Well, my dad came over here in early March of 1943 from Missoula, Montana as a construction carpenter. And then my mother, and brother, and I came here after school was out in 1943 from Missoula, Montana. And we arrived, interestingly, the night of—or the morning, very early morning, of June 20, 1943 in the Pasco train depot there. And the reason I say it's quite interesting, because that day happened to be my dad's birthday, my mom and dad's anniversary, and Father's day. [LAUGHTER] So it was kind of a big day. But about two o'clock in the morning--and I might mention that, to me it was fascinating, because I was ten years old there in June of 1943. And when we arrived at the train depot there in Pasco, it was really in the middle of the night, and there were probably upwards of 2,000 people milling around; military—Army, and of course Navy personnel, I suppose, from the Pasco Navy base, and construction workers. There were little what we would call taco stands today around. Anyway, very interesting, very interesting. Just milling around. So anyway, Dad took us out to, at that time, the Hanford construction town site, which occupied the village area of Hanford, what was Hanford at that time. And in the middle of the night. Dad had brought over a very small trailer house, handmade trailer house. And that's what he'd been living in. And at that time, the trailer court for the Hanford construction workers was very primitive. They had put in most of the wash houses and most of the streets, but there was still a lot to be done. And so anyway, we made do. And to begin with, the trailers just sat out in the sun, so to speak. But it wasn't too long before the government realized that they should maybe put some canopies over the trailers to shield the trailers so they'd be more comfortable in the summertime from the heat of the sun, and keep some of the snow, and ice, and all off during the winter. So they put up canopies. I think the government had the idea that they would not allow anything as far as living quarters in the trailer portion of the Hanford construction site there. But it wasn't too long before they realized, with the number of children and so forth, they were going to have to allow some leeway there, and let the people build small little extensions to the trailer or whatever. And in our case, that was very important, because the trailer the mom and dad had was very small, maybe 21 feet at the most. And so we built a little lean-to establishment behind the trailer, which was very, very comfortable for my brother and I. By the way, my brother's five and a half years older than I am, so he went to work almost immediately. He was, what, 15 and a half, something like that. And he went to work immediately for one of the construction companies in their kitchen. I think he started out as a dish washer. And he worked there, I think, most of the summer of 1943. But at any rate, we had a nice, comfortable, well insulated with all sorts of Celotex that we are able to get--and it was very roomy, and comfortable. It was great. It served us very, very well. So that gets us established there at Hanford, and then of course the rest of the summer, for me, was roaming around, getting acquainted with various things to do, and not to do that I did anyway. And to begin with, the swimming facility—which was very important at that time for the construction workers, as well as the people in the trailer court—was in the river, just over the bank, so to speak, from what was beautiful downtown Hanford, which consisted of one gas station and maybe two little stores. But anyway. But it wasn't too long before they realized that that might not be too good of an idea to have that swimming area down in the river, because some of the fellows, especially--there were a lot of young men there working in construction. And some of them decided that it'd be kind of a challenge to swim across the river, and some of them were getting into trouble. I don't think there were any drownings, but there were some problems. And so it wasn't too long before they went what I call across the highway to the south of the trailer court about, oh, it would've been a good strong mile, I suppose, from the river. And they dug out some beautiful swimming areas, big ponds, with nice berms and all, to hold the water. And then they brought the water in from the river, and flooded those areas, and kept them in good shape. And so we had a nice, sandy bottom, and diving boards, and very, very nice. Very nice. So I've rambled along a little bit. Maybe you have a specific question that has come up or something.
Bauman: You mentioned that you did some things that were okay for you to do, and maybe some things that you weren't supposed to do. Any stories from--that you want to share?
Shea: Well, you know, maybe—well, I don't think of any right off hand. I might mention that—I'm sure I wandered off some, and probably worried Mom and Dad. But everything was wide open. And the good—at least from my point of view as a youngster there—there was never any problem for me as a little kid roaming around. And I I'll get into some of the detail later. But they went into the barracks of the white guys, as well as the barracks of the black fellows. And keep in mind that this is 1943. This is segregation. Right or wrong, good or bad, it was segregated. And there were black barracks. There were white barracks. And there were very, very few black children. But they had kind of a segregated area there in the trailer court for that also. But never any problem. And I spent a lot of time in the black barracks. One of my little sidelights as an entrepreneur out there, a ten-year-old entrepreneur, somewhere I got tied in with the Cloverine Brand Salve people. And I would get these tubes of Cloverine Brand Salve. And I think there are ten or 12 in each carton. And I would go to the black and the white barracks both on Sunday afternoons, and sell that salve. And boy, they just gobbled it up. They loved it. And so I made a few dollars that way. I shined shoes, which was quite--that was quite an activity for kids my age. We had little shoeshine kits. We'd carry them around, and if the guy wanted a shoeshine, $0.25 for a good shoeshine. It was a way to make money, and we enjoyed it. And maybe I'm jumping ahead, but anyway, when school started in the fall, of course, it was during the war. They had a shortage of teachers. They had a shortage of room there at the site to begin with for the school kids. And so we only went to school half-day, which was pretty tough to take as a kid, [LAUGHTER] but we managed to do it. So that gave us a lot of free time for activities, playing or making a few bucks doing whatever. So anyway though, during that summer of '43, got acquainted, and by the end of the summer, the trailer court was in great shape, and it was being added to daily. You might be interested in the--I forget exactly, but for about every 25 or so trailers, there was what we called a wash house, which--in the front of the building, or wash house, there would be an area with washtubs where the ladies could wash clothes. And then immediately across the street there were huge areas to hang clothes. No clothes dryers at that time. And so there were facilities for hanging the clothes and drying the clothes. And there was a lot of good weather, and for the most part, the clothes dried even during the winter. It wasn't too bad. But anyway, the wash house, the laundry facilities were in the front. And then on either side--on one side was the ladies’ toilet facilities, showers, and so forth. Then on the other side, the men had toilets, showers, sinks for shaving and all. And that would accommodate quite a few. And as I recall, it was around 20-25 trailers for each wash house. And of course, people could use any of the wash house facilities anytime they wanted to, if they walked around the trailer court, or whatever. Plus, as far as toilet facilities were concerned, there were portable--what we would call portables today. They were wooden. But they would accommodate people, too, and they had the female and the male outhouses, or portable toilets. And another thing very, very important there, throughout the barracks areas, throughout the whole trailer court, there were many, many water barrels. And that's really what they were. They were wooden barrels. I imagine they were an outgrowth of whiskey barrels of bygone days. But they had wooden barrels supplied with ice and water. Very clean. Everything was clean. And by the way, the portable toilets were kept very, very clean, and taken care of, in great shape. And the water barrels—and all the water barrels had salt distributors. The little distributors of salt would have little pills of salt, if you felt you needed salt. And I might add now that in the trailer court, I don't know how many there were, but for every, I would guess, 100 or so trailers, they had an icehouse, probably a building of 15 feet by 15 feet, something like that, well insulated, and then filled with ice. And the people from the trailer court could go get the ice anytime they wanted, all they wanted. No charge. And you could go and help yourself. Now you might say, well, why ice? Why not just turn the refrigerator on? Well, at that time, there weren't--all the trailers, most of them were very primitive. Very few electric refrigerators or electric heat. And so the ice went into the ice chest, of what we call an ice--a refrigerator that was cooled by ice. So it was great. And that, I might add right here, that that free ice was very important to me, because one way of making some dollars, or making some money as a kid out there--well, I guess I need to back up for a second. Virtually all hot water and heating throughout the whole Hanford town site, that in 1944 consisted of about 52,000 people--but all of the heating of the water, heating of the wash houses, heating of the barracks, and all, was done by steam—steaming. So that meant that there had to be quite a few large steam generating facilities throughout the whole Hanford site there to heat the water to produce the steam. Well, that was coal fired, and most of that coal came from up near Cle Elum. Roslyn was a big coal producing area there. And they would--the train loads of coal were brought in from Roslyn. But the steam plant was important to me because I could go there, and I could borrow a wheelbarrow. And I could take that wheelbarrow to the icehouse. And I could fill it with free ice. Then I could go to the grocery store, and I could buy Coke, or Pepsi, or whatever they happened to have, put it on that ice, and then push it down to where the buses--and I say buses in quote. We can talk about that later, if you like. But when the buses with the construction people would come in from the outer job sites every night for the guys living in the barracks and in the trailer court--and I would sell that Coke or Pepsi that had been on ice to the men. I think I bought it for something like a nickel a bottle. They didn't have cans at that time. A nickel a bottle, and I sold it for a dime. So a pretty good deal.
Bauman: That's a good profit. [LAUGHTER]
Shea: Good profit, good profit. Yeah. So anyway, that tells you about the icehouses. It tells you about the wash houses. And of course those wash houses, it was kind of interesting, because every morning, there would be--it was kind of like an anthill. You’d see the ladies walking over, and the men walking over, and shaving, showering, whatever, taking care of their needs for the morning, there, to begin with. So it was good. The government--or we could say the Corps of Engineers, because the Corps of Engineers really ran Hanford. That was their thing--they bent over backward to help people enjoy to the degree possible the living quarters, and they wanted to keep the people there to work. And so they had a lot of activities for the kids. We had tumbling, and then, as I mentioned, swimming. They had softball and all sorts of things. And of course we could work. The older kids—well, bowling at that time, which it still is to some degree today—bowling was very, very, very widespread throughout the whole country. And there were several bowling alleys there at Hanford. And the older kids, like 14, 15, 16, they didn't do the shoe shining and the selling the pop, and some of these other less important jobs. They were pin setters. Because at that time, you didn't have the automatic pin setters in bowling alleys. So they would go and set pins. And they apparently made good money setting pins and all. Plus, as I mentioned, by the time the kid was 15, they could work in the cafeteria, or what we called mess halls, really. I suppose the mess hall term came in from the military, there. But they were huge dining areas. We'll put it that way. So anyway, I'll stop for a minute, see if you have any questions. I'm kind of rambling here.
Bauman: No, that's all great stuff. You said something about the buses. Do you want to talk about the buses a little more, and describe them a little bit?
Shea: Yeah. Really, the transportation that was provided for the workers from Hanford out to the various areas, and in some cases, I suppose they had to go upwards of 15 miles, maybe 20 miles or so, were kind of glorified cattle cars, really. I mean, for the time, it was good. But they were wooden benches in these—actually, they were semi trailers that had a tractor, a truck tractor, attached. And they would haul, I suppose, 30-40 workers. And the poor guys, during the summer, they'd pull in to where they--kind of the disembarking area there, and those poor guys, I mean their tongues were virtually hanging out, because I mean, they'd come through this very hot ride in this very hot vehicle. And that's why they really sucked up those iced Cokes, and all. So anyway, but that's enough of—Actually, I might add that the grade school aged kids, grades one through eight, they went to school there at Hanford. But the high school age, nine through 12 there, they were transported into Richland for their high school years. And they rode those cattle cars too. They had buses, or anyway, transportation to and from. And it was pretty crude. But they got in.
Bauman: So could you talk about the school a little bit? You went to school at Hanford town site, and could you talk about that a little bit, what that was like?
Shea: The white building that is still out there, kind of shot up and beat up, which was really the Hanford high school, that's where the--they had, I don't know, probably eight, ten, 12 classrooms. And that's where I attended fifth and most of sixth grade, there in that school. But then they also had a many Quonset huts outside the school, immediately adjacent to the school. And they had a lot of classrooms in those Quonset huts, too. So I don't know how many, all told, kids that they would have had in the school. It had to be hundreds, but I don't know how many hundreds. But there were a lot.
Bauman: Was it close enough for you to walk to?
Shea: Oh, yeah. In my case, it was a piece of cake. I only lived about three blocks from--what we would think of today as blocks. And it was real simple. And they named the streets like Egypt, and such as that. I happened to live on Egypt Street--Egypt Street, and I guess it was actually the second block. And the trailer space number was 20. So my address was E 2-20. But now some of the kids, though, that would have been a pretty good hike for them. Some kids, I suppose, had to walk upwards of a good mile. A good mile. And no buses at all at that time for the school kids and all. The teachers, bless their hearts, I'm sure they did the best they could. But they had both morning and afternoon sessions. I imagine by the end of the day, they were pretty tired cookies. But they did as well as they could, and they were well respected, and taken care of. And basically it was the three Rs at that time.
Bauman: Were you morning or afternoon session?
Shea: I forget. At least one year, either the fifth or sixth, it was morning. Because that gave me all afternoon to go. But the second year, or one of the years, I don't remember if it was morning or afternoon. But anyway. And I'm not so sure, I don't remember, it could be that after one semester, they flipped us, also. If you had been going morning, maybe then they switched to afternoon, or vice versa. I'm not sure. I think maybe that happened, in case there was some reason that they thought it was better for the kids to be turned around there.
Bauman: So the high school building was there, and you mentioned a gas station, maybe a couple of grocery stores. Were there a lot of buildings still from the Hanford town site, still there? Or had some of them been torn down?
Shea: I think for the most part, those that had been--were there to begin, they retained them, like a gas station and a couple of small stores. But the Corps of Engineers, I suppose under contract, had--there in the trailer court, there were probably three very large grocery stores. And I remember, I believe at least one large grocery store over in the vicinity of the barracks, where the people out of the barracks could go if they wanted to get food, or maybe some clothing, this type of thing. And of course those stores were well stocked, well stocked, but just jam packed. And so you had, just as everywhere out at Hanford, you had long lines, whether it was a post office, which was general delivery, or stores, or whatever. In fact, some kids made some money standing in line for people. They would go and stand in line for Mrs. Jones at the grocery store, and when Mrs. Jones got her groceries, they'd come over, and naturally the kid had moved up several spaces. So anyway, there were all kinds of interesting things. I'd like to go back just a minute to the dorm--the barracks and the grocery store there, and the mess halls, although they were fantastic. The food was excellent that served the people, and the mess halls provided, if the guys wanted them, lunches to carry out to their worksite, so that they didn't have to prepare them, which would have been pretty tough in the dormitories. But the mess halls served excellent food. And actually, the people from the trailer court were welcome anytime they wanted to go to the mess hall. And I think, if I recall correctly--I don't know about the breakfast and lunch--but the dinners were a great big whopping $0.35 apiece per person. And that was family style, and you could eat all you wanted. Mom, and Dad, and my brother and I went to--I can remember at least two or three times going there for Thanksgiving and/or Christmas dinners. And, oh, excellent food. Excellent. And I'll have to tell you a little story there. The one experience, we went, and of course it was family style. It was just benches to sit on, and wooden tables. I think at Thanksgiving and Christmas, they did put a tablecloth on. But the one time we went, one fellow sitting across from us, obviously living in the barracks or someplace, didn't have his family with him. Anyway, during the time that Mom and Dad and my brother, and I were sitting there having our dinner, he consumed five pies. No meat and potatoes, the only thing he had besides that was coffee. He had five pies. Now these weren't huge pies. But they were pies. And he just took his time. And that's all he had. That was his dinner. And you could do that. It was family style. You could have all you wanted, and just go for it. Well, again, I've been rambling. Can I--
Bauman: Did you and your family eat there fairly regularly, or was there more special occasions that you would go to eat at the mess hall?
Shea: The only times I remember are maybe three or four times there at Thanksgiving or Christmas. There may have been other times. Sunday afternoon, Dad might have taken us over there. I don't really remember that, no. Mom was an excellent cook, and unbelievable what those ladies were able to do with their limited facilities. Again, most of the trailers were very small, very crude. By today's standards, they would have been just shacks. But they did great. However, there were some manufactured trailers, and even with inside toilet facilities and all. But that was very rare there in the trailer court.
Bauman: So you were about ten years old when you were there?
Shea: I was ten in April of 1943, and we got there in June of 1943. So I was ten in two or three months, yeah.
Bauman: So did you have any idea what this big project was, why your dad had come out here to work?
Shea: No. Bob, at that time there were just a handful of people who really knew what was going on. And most of them didn't have a great idea. I mean they'd been told that it was--well, just for an example. A man that I later worked with on the Hanford project, he had come here as an expert in radio communication. And it was he and the crew that he had that put an antenna up on Gable Mountain. And he was told that, okay, this is, of course, super-secret, and one day, we will tell you more. And he said that before B Reactor went online, they came to him and said, okay, now B Reactor is going to go online because of thus, and thus, and thus. And we don't have any idea what it will do, if anything, with the radio communication, radio waves. It may be nothing. But be alert to the fact that, you know, you're the man. And so he said, but when it went online, no problem, no change. But anyway, that was interesting, what he had to say. I don't know if the name Robley Johnson means much to anybody anymore, but he was the official photographer. And he was a young man. And he was all over that place taking photographs and all. And later, I got to know him pretty well in the 1950s, when he had his photography shop here in Richland. And he shared some things that he thought was real interesting. But even he didn't know what they were doing, but so few did. And I suppose the few that did, they'd have said nothing. And of course the old Desert Inn Hotel here in Richland that basically was on the ground there where--what is it, Hanford House, or whatever they call it now? Anyway, it housed a lot of very famous people. But again, most of them were there with code names, now.
Bauman: Do you remember when you found out what was being built out at Hanford?
Shea: Kind of interestingly, in, I guess it was August of 1945, Dad decided he needed a few days off, so we took a vacation. Went over to the Seattle area, actually up to Everett, and then back down to Auburn and visited some people. And as we were going down, I guess, the old 99 Highway, Dad had the radio on, and it said, hey, you know, guess what? Across the mountains at Hanford, this is where the material for the second bomb that was dropped on Nagasaki came from. That's where we learned. So when we got back over here, though, then there was a lot of—all sorts of interesting things brought out. So that's how we found out.
Bauman: So how long did you live in the trailer, then?
Shea: Okay, we lived at the Hanford construction town site there from June 20th of '43 until--I'm not sure of the exact date--late March, 1945. And by that time, they moved everybody out of Hanford, all the barracks, the trailer court, again, anticipating that something could happen, and we would have been downwind from the B Reactor. And so then, yeah, we dispersed. And people--many of the people--were able to move directly into Richland that went to work in operations. They moved directly into Richland. But not everybody. They weren't able to house everybody. My dad went to work in operations from construction there. But we had to find a place, and we wound up in a house with a couple of other families down in what we know as Columbia Park today. Where the gazebo is today, that's where the house was. And so we lived there from end of March until--it was early July, I guess, when we got a house in Richland, and moved into Richland. And the family lived in that house--I mean, Mom and Dad--until in the 90s. So they lived there for better than 50 years.
Bauman: It sounds like, for someone who was ten, 11 years old as you were, that living in the construction camp was quite an adventure in many ways.
Shea: It was. It was a wonderful opportunity. I'm 80 years old, and as I look back on my life, two--we'll call them adventures, or two opportunities, let's put it that way, that I have always praised the Lord that I could enjoy--one, being a kid out there at Hanford, and the other, believe it or not, to be able to go through the United States Marine Corps Boot Camp. That was a great, great opportunity for me. I loved it. In both cases, I loved it. And as a take-off on that question, if you don't mind, that first summer of '43 there, one of the things that I enjoyed the most was going across the river and climbing around, and hiking around the bluffs. I called it my playground. And the thing--they had a 24-hour-a-day, seven-day-a-week ferry. That ferry never stopped. It was not a big ferry. It was a tug-pushed barge that would hold four or five automobiles. And it just went back and forth, back and forth. And it didn't cost anything. Again, it was free for the employees. And the kids would go down there, and we'd cross the river, and go hiking on the bluffs, and chase rabbits, and kill rattlesnakes, and had a good time. So that really was great, though. I don't know if you wanted to take time or not on that—I brought a piece of aluminum, though. You know, that's kind of unique. But anyway, it's a piece of aluminum that came off of an airplane. One evening—toward evening, it was five, six, seven o'clock. One of the aircraft from the Naval training center there in Pasco, it was a dive bomber, had come around from the south, and the bluffs, of course, were across the river to the north, at very low altitude. And the engine was sputtering some. And, I mean, pretty obvious it was in trouble. And they were able to clear the bluffs by a couple hundred yards, maybe, 400 or 500 feet. But then it crashed and it burned. And so some of the men went out and got souvenirs. And the instructor and the student pilot were both killed in that crash. But it was unfortunate, but it was kind of interesting that they came through there.
Bauman: And this is when you were living at the camp there?
Shea: Yeah, right. And it just came right over the Hanford site there, the Hanford town site. We didn't see many of the planes from Pasco, there. I suppose a few that we saw came in on a cross-country training flight. But, talking about airplanes, we have to talk about the big airplane yet. We have to talk, I would hope, anyway, about Day's Pay. Now first of all, I want to correct something that--the idea that Day's Pay landed at some airstrip out at—oh, boy, the little town site to the west of Hanford—
Alice: White Bluffs?
Bauman: White Bluffs?
Shea: --White Bluffs. Some would have you to believe that. But Day's Pay, when it came in, when it was flown in, it landed on the highway about a mile west of the school there. It landed, and there was plenty of room. It made a great landing strip: it was straight, and no hills, or whatever. It landed there, and then taxied up to the school, within 100 feet of the school, and parked, cut its engines, and they got out and did their thing. They christened it. There was a lady there that christened it. And they had their ceremony. And then it started up, taxied back to that highway strip, and took off to the west. And so that's where Day's Pay landed and took off. And for those who are not familiar with the Day's Pay thing, the reason it was named Day's Pay is all of the construction workers there at Hanford, building what we know as the Hanford Works, donated a day's pay to buy that B-17 bomber. And so anyway.
Bauman: Yeah. I wonder if you could talk a little bit about when you went to work at Hanford then. When was that, and what sort of work did you do there?
Shea: Can we come back to this other for a minute?
Bauman: Oh, yeah, sure.
Shea: Before we finish it?
Bauman: That’s fine.
Shea: Yeah. Again, praise the Lord, I was able to—right after finishing high school in 1951, and by the way, I graduated from Columbia High School in Richland. Well, it wasn't immediately after that. I had to get healed up from a broken ankle first. But by August of 1951, I was able to go into construction work, and I went to work helping build the 100-C Area, which was right adjacent to 100-B. And so that's where I started my construction work. And I worked there until September of 1952, at which time I started college. And so the rest--the several years after that, then, I would work in the summers, or if I had a real good job, I would work in the summer and maybe a winter quarter, or spring quarter, or whatever, in construction. So, my term, I helped build 100-C, helped build PUREX. And then in the mid-50s, I helped build--I don't know how many thousands of yards of concrete I hauled from the batch plant to the 100-K East and West basins, when they were putting the basins in, which was an excellent job. And I made good money, and was able to go back to school there after about six months. Then after that, after I got my degree, then I went into teaching. But as things would have it, I went to work back at Hanford in 1967. At that time, it was for what they call ITT/FSS. And they had the fire department security and several other responsibilities. And I went to work there for a couple of years. Then after that, actually, I didn't work at what is known as Hanford Works until the BWIP Project. And most people are not aware of what is called the BWIP Project. BWIP, B-W-I-P, stands for Basalt Waste Isolation Project. They were going to at least check on the feasibility of going down into the basalt under the Hanford site, and have storage for nuclear waste in containers. But politics being as it was, that didn't happen. BWIP and several other projects that they were experimenting with throughout the United States, went to Yucca Mountain and died, or at least is still dead. It may come back. But anyway, I went to work on the BWIP, but that didn't last long, because they abandoned that job. And then it wasn't until about 1983 or 1984 that I went back to work at what we'd call the Hanford site. And off and on there, and working on the two commercial sites that—Eventually, in 1996 I retired. So all told, if that's of any interest, I spent about ten years working at what we would call Hanford, in operations or construction.
Bauman: Okay.
Shea: Yeah.
Bauman: Mm-hmm. Of the different sort of jobs and places at Hanford site that you worked, was there a job that was sort of the most rewarding, that you found the most rewarding, enjoyed the most, or one that was sort of the most challenging or difficult?
Shea: Well, going back to August of 1951 there, yeah, I went to work in construction. And I was working through the union driving a truck. I mean I'd had some experience in that during high school. And so I was driving a flatbed truck, and one day I went to the boss, and I said, Charlie, I really appreciate this job. And I said, could I maybe drive a dump truck, or get some experience? Oh, sure, Bob, yeah, we'll fix you right up. So he said, go out--see that Euclid out there? This is a huge—to me, a huge piece of equipment, diesel powered, and it would haul about ten yards of dirt, and all. He said, yeah, go climb on that Euc, and take it over here to this power shovel, and work with them today. And anyway, I went out, to make a long story short, I finally got it started, with some help from some other guys, because I'd never driven diesel before. But this was the largest earth-moving equipment that they had out there at the time. And so I operated the Eucs for about a year, and I loved it. That was the most interesting part, I think, of my construction. And of that work, the most important and most interesting was we—right down to the north from the B Reactor there, we put in a new, I guess they'd call it to siphon, to draw water out of the Columbia River. We had to go about 100 yards out into the river, and built a levee for them to eventually put and lower the pipe--after it was welded, lower the pipe down to the floor of the river. And so hauling dirt out to the end of that, and you had to back the whole way and dump the earth, that it was quite a challenge. So I enjoyed that. But the other very interesting thing really didn't have anything to do with the Hanford site. It did have to do with what we know today as--well, what we knew then as unit number two, which today it's known as, what, Power Northwest?
Bauman: Energy Northwest.
Shea: Energy Northwest. Their number two unit out there, I was the welding inspector on all of the welding, and all for the structural steel that went on top of the reactor building, including the overhead crane. And that was very—I had never done that type of work. I had never walked steel before, and I haven't walked steel since then, and I never will walk steel again. But that was very interesting, very interesting. And it was very important work. And it was all nuclear grade welding. And so it was very fascinating. Even though that wasn't technically connected with the Hanford site, it was on the Hanford site anyway.
Bauman: Sure.
Shea: So it was very good. I don't know if you had--
Bauman: I have a question about when you actually, then, moved to the town of Richland. What was that like? What was Richland like in the late 1940s then?
Shea: Very, very good question. It was very different, and I suppose that was true also of Kennewick and Pasco. It was a melting pot—people from all over the country—which is true at Hanford, too. Very interesting. Lot of people had come up from the South for the construction. Some people came up from the South and all to work in operations. And people like us had come in from Missoula, Montana. They'd come in from all over the country, South Dakota, North Dakota, all over. And it was true at Hanford, and it became true, really, at Richland, too. Many of these people, especially out of the South, had worked at that time—1943, even during the war years—had worked for maybe $1 a day. And they came to Hanford in construction out there, and laborers were making, I think, about $1.10 an hour. This was great. Many people moved into Richland, ourselves included. Mom and Dad had never owned a home. It had always been a rental home in the almost 20 years that they'd been married. They were provided nice houses, all the coal was furnished. They had to pay for their own phone, they had to pay for their own electricity. But I think the water and sewer was provided, all the coal. It was great. It was a new world. It was a new world for a lot of people, including the Sheas. And Dad appreciated it, Mom appreciated it. And they took very good care of things, and I don't think they took advantage of anything. But they enjoyed it. It's kind of interesting, I think—Alice and I share this every once in a while. Along toward '47, '48, in that frame, maybe '49 too, it was not uncommon that a neighbor might come to you in Richland there, and say, well, you know, it's been nice having you as a neighbor, you know, and we wish you well, and all that. We're being reassigned. And you would ask, reassigned? Oh, you're going to go to do a different job. Yeah, I'm getting a different job. Well, as it turned out, several plainclothes FBI agents lived with their families in the city of Richland, there, because at that time they were checking pretty carefully about communists. And of course it wasn't too long after that McCarthy in the US Senate, with McCarthyism there, and all, and the big communist situation there, as far as seeking them out. So that was kind of interesting. And there were, unfortunately, some families, the dad would be approached, and just say, okay, pack up, you're out of here. Your kids aren't behaving as they should be, or maybe they were a drunk. In other words, it was pretty tight, pretty tight. And it was kind of interesting, too, until probably 1950 or maybe even later, there was kind of a police headquarters, which was really government control. But the headquarters there. And they had police officers throughout the city, but nothing real heavy. But if—and this happened to us--if people come out of town would come, relatives from podunk corners, or wherever it was, would come to town. And they'd stop, and they'd say, well here's a police headquarters, we'll check and see where the Sheas live, because we're confused. And they would just be escorted. If they stopped with the police, there, the police would escort them right to our home, and they would say, do you know these folks? And, well, yeah. This is Uncle George, or whoever. Oh, okay, that's fine. You know them. That's good. We weren't sure what the deal was. So we brought them over. So that was kind of interesting.
Bauman: Wow. Yeah. Very tight security.
Shea: Tight security, yeah. Tight security. And I think that lasted pretty much until the mid-50s probably.
Bauman: So, in terms of security, then, when you started working there in the 50s, did you have to have special clearance? Was there training about security, too, when you worked there?
Shea: You had to fill out some paperwork. In construction phase there, it was pretty loose, not much. But in 1955, when I went one summer, when I was off from college, I went to work for what was known at that time J.A. Jones Construction Services. And I was going to be working some in D and DR, and F Areas. And I had to qualify with a Q clearance. So I got a Q clearance there in 1955, and I had it restated later, too. In fact, when I retired I had a Q clearance. Not too many had it at that time. For some reason they'd lowered the standard some. But yeah. So it was tight. It was very tight. And you've probably heard about the aircraft, the patrol aircraft that flew--the main reason for the Richland airport was to accommodate the half dozen Piper Cubs, really, that were constantly doing surveillance work over the Hanford site for, well, all of the 40s, and probably, I would guess, until 1954, '55, or maybe a little bit before that. After the Army moved in, anyway, and there was tighter security there. But the security was tight, yeah. Very tight.
Bauman: Do you have something else you want to get back to that we were talking about before?
Shea: We could go back to Hanford. But I might mention one thing, for anybody that's kind of interested in sports. This is kind of off, but anyway. There at Hanford, and after that, they had a MP, or Military Police Detachment of US Army personnel. And they were--of course, most of them were pretty young men, and all. And they had some good teams, softball teams and all. But a little sidelight, one of the men, one of the MPs, after he got out of the Army, there in late 1945, he went to various colleges around the area, and universities, and tried to get a football scholarship. He’d played a little high school football, and all. And so they all said, well, no, thanks, but we're in pretty good shape. So, okay, well, that's fine. So he decided, well, I'll just go back home. So he went back home to Illinois. And then in 1947, he reappeared in the Rose Bowl, and he was the quarterback for Illinois. And they proceeded to beat UCLA, something like 45 to 14. But his name was Perry Moss. And he'd been a GI MP out at Hanford. So I thought that was kind of interesting. Going back to Hanford, there. I might--two things I might mention that were very significant, and very important, not to me or my family, but I'm sure that many of the guys in the--and some of the guys in the trailer court, probably, some of the fathers, and maybe older boys—they had some excellent baseball leagues out there. Again, black leagues, white leagues. But the baseball field they had out there rivalled any major league ballpark in the nation at that time, other than the seating. There was only seating for about 6,000, I think it was. But the grass was perfect. They maintained it. And lighting was excellent, because most of the games were played at night, when the guys would come in after work. Excellent, though, and a lot of great baseball, a lot of great baseball was played there. And then I guess it would be just absolutely wrong not to mention something about the auditorium, or I guess that's what the main name for the huge building that they put up virtually overnight. That's not quite true. But really, within two or three days, they put up this huge building that they called the auditorium. It had a regulation-size gymnasium floor, and no seating such as that, except around the perimeter. But they had many dances, big dances. They brought the Globetrotter basketball team in. And I'll have to ask Alice to help me with the name of the--what was the band leader?
Alice: Kay Kyser?
Shea: Kay Kyser. Brought Kay Kyser in. And to this day, as far as I know, the grand piano that they brought in for Kay Kyser to use is still in what I know as Carmichael School.
Alice: Chief Joe.
Shea: Huh?
Bauman: Chief Joe—Chief Joseph?
Shea: No. Carmichael.
Alice: Yes, Chief Joe.
Shea: Okay. [LAUGHTER] Anyway, the one on Lee Boulevard at the top of the hill. That building. Anyway. I guess that, unless you have other questions--
Bauman: I was just going to ask you, did you get to attend any of the baseball games, or the auditorium, stuff in the auditorium at all?
Shea: A couple of the baseball games. Since they were at night, Mom and Dad kind of rode herd on me a little bit there. But I did go to a couple of baseball games. And there was one ceremony there, too, that they brought a pilot and maybe one or two of his crew in who had to been taken prisoner by the Japanese. They'd been shot down, and they'd been taken prisoner by the Japanese, but they were able to escape. And so for one of the war bond drives, they brought them in to talk to the people. And they had a big ceremony there, and it was in the evening. And speaking of war bonds, or war savings bonds, and such as that, that was a big thing. That was a big thing there at Hanford, and for the kids as well as the adults. And so it was very well contributed to, really, or bought. A lot of war bonds there. So anyway, that was good, a good way to save money.
Alice: What about seeing the fellow, the gentleman who had been shell shocked, and how they dealt with him?
Shea: Oh. Yeah, that was the only really sad thing that I remember from Hanford days. And then, it was a passing thing. But one evening, near me was all of a sudden a congregation of several of the, we'll call them police officers, there at Hanford had formed a ring around--and I'm talking about ten or 12 of them--around this fairly young man. And as it turned out, he had been in the service, probably in Europe. And he went bonkers. And after—well, excuse me—he had come to Hanford and went to work. But that evening, he kind of went bonkers, and so these police officers just had to kind of slowly move in on him, and get him under control. And I think they cuffed him and took him away. But that was sad, because it was obvious that he thought that these were Germans that he was fighting. These were bad guys, and he was going to get all he could. That was sad, but anyway, those things happen. So I don't know if you have any other questions about Hanford, there, or--oh, excuse me. I just thought of one thing. One wonderful, wonderful thing there at the Hanford town site--well, let me back up. You're probably all aware of the fact that in 1943, when the government moved in, they really took over three little villages: Richland, Hanford, and White Bluffs. And Hanford and White Bluffs are, I think, separated by, what, six miles, or something like that, of highway. But between Hanford and White Bluffs—and I suppose on either end, west of White Bluffs, and east of Hanford, too—orchard, after orchard, after orchard of just wonderful fruit: peaches, big Bing cherries, pears, apricots—wonderful fruit. And we had the opportunity to go out and pick there--during the summer of '43, go out and pick, and get cherries. And another thing, the track houses, the farm houses that had to be abandoned, many of us went out and cut sod out of their lawns, and put the sod around our trailer, and watered it. It was great. It was great. And many of the houses that had been farm houses, they were taken over by the upper military of the Army Corps of Engineers. And they lived there, several guys in a house. But one thing that I understand is that every year the railroad would bring in--excuse me. Unless it was a bad winter and the apricots were frozen, they brought trains in to load up with apricots to send all over the country—LA, Texas, New York, and all, because those were the earliest apricots in the country. And they were wonderful apricots, too. So they hit the market, unless they got frozen off that winter, which I guess was very, very rare. Apparently that area around Hanford and White Bluffs, the air currents, or whatever, during the winter, carried fairly mild air temperature-wise, and so anyway. But that was interesting.
Bauman: So it sounds like a lot of the farm houses were still there, and the crops.
Shea: They eventually—probably in the late 40s—they cut all the orchards down, and so none of them existed. You can see a lot of stumps, but no orchards. And then interestingly, probably by 1948, you'd have never known that there was any barracks, wash houses, nothing. It was completely leveled. And today, it's just a few little asphalt strips that you'd see where the various streets were, and all. But yeah. That's it.
Bauman: So was it just that first summer of '43 that you were able to pick the apricots and cherries and stuff? Just that first summer?
Shea: Yeah. No, I'm sorry. I beg your pardon. No, no. '43 and '44. I beg your pardon. But not '45, because we were out of there by March. But all of that summer of '43 and '44, it was great. And again, I think it's important to remember that virtually all of 1944, that Hanford town site was the fourth largest city in the State of Washington, about 52,000 people, men, women, and children. Yeah. That fruit was wonderful. Bing cherries the size of quarters. Wonderful, wonderful fruit.
Bauman: Well, is there anything you haven't had a chance to talk about yet that you’d like to still, that we haven't been able to talk about yet?
Shea: Let’s see. As it relates to the bond drives, and all, here's a--my mother saved this because my little fat face was in it. But they had what they called The Sage Sentinel newspaper out there, and this is just an example. This is from June of 1944. It just showed some of us kids. They had bought war bonds, and they had a little blurb there about that.
Bauman: Okay. We can probably get this on film.
Shea: Or you might want to make a copy of it, or whatever. You're welcome to, if you'd like.
Bauman: All right. Well, I want to thank you very much for coming today and--
Shea: Well, my pleasure.
Bauman: --sharing your stories and memories.
Shea: My pleasure.
Bauman: I really appreciate it.
Shea: No, it's my pleasure. So thank you.
Northwest Public Television | Soldat_Joe
Robert Bauman: Okay, all right. Well, we'll go ahead and get started. All right. What I'm going to have you do first is say your name. And then spell it for me.
Joe Soldat: Okay. Joseph Soldat, S-O-L-D-A-T.
Bauman: Thank you, and my name is Robert Bauman. And we're conducting an oral history interview. Today's date is August 6th of 2013. And the interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. And so I'm talking today with Joe Soldat about his experiences working at the Hanford site. So I wonder--let's start by maybe you tell me how you came to Hanford, what brought you here, how you heard about the place.
Soldat: When I graduated from the University of Colorado with a degree in chemical engineering, I worked for a while at the Denver General Hospital, which was associated with the university. And they lost their research grant. So I heard from somebody that there was a place called Hanford. So I wrote a letter to the employment department at GE. And I got a thing back, of course, that says, we got your letter on file. But it wasn't too long afterwards they called me, and told me to come. So I agreed to come out, sight unseen, on the train. And I got off to train. I looked at all the sagebrush, like everybody, and said, oh, I'll give it a year or two. That was 1948. And I stayed on the project for 47 years.
Bauman: Ah. And so you arrived in this place of sage brush and desert.
Soldat: Yeah.
Bauman: What sort of housing did you find?
Soldat: Well, when I came they put me in a barracks in North Richland, the old military barracks--small rooms for two people with a closet and a dresser. And showers were down the hall. Maid came in once a week to change the linens and towels. And I was paying $0.20 a day for rent. Eventually, I got to move to Richland--the dorm M4. And on the corner right now is a bank where M2 used to be. And M2 became a motel for a while—some guy bought it. And then it finally became a bank. But my wife-to-be lived in the women's dormitories with W numbers. And so we finally met, and ended up getting married in '52.
Bauman: So did you live in the dorms for about four years from about '48 to '52 then?
Soldat: Yeah, before I got married, yeah. And we managed to get a house. Because I was in radiation protection, we had some small priority on getting housing. And we picked out a pre-cut on the south side, three-bedroom. So we lived there till '63. And moved in a ranch house where I live now on Torbett, in a remodeled ranch house with an extra bedroom.
Bauman: About how large were the dorms that you lived in?
Soldat: The dormitories? Well, I'd say maybe as big as from here to that wall square. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: About how many people lived in the dormitories as a whole?
Bauman: So what was Richland like in the late '40s and early '50s in the community?
Soldat: Well, when I finally moved into town, the town, essentially, was closed. If you didn't work there, you couldn’t live there. You could come in. There was no fence around it. But if you retired, you had to go somewhere else to live. There was no retirement housing. And the city, when I got my house, supplied oil, or coal, free for the housing. So the rent was fairly reasonable at that time. And they had the federal government until, I think it was '58, when they sold houses to us, and got their own government. One of my friends, Bob McKee, was on the church council. And he became, eventually, mayor of Richland. His funeral is coming up Thursday. He died away back in the spring. But they delayed the funeral for relatives, I guess. But, anyway, I got a reasonable price for my house, I thought. It was like about $9,000 plus, because I had put up a fence, and a little thing for storage of garbage cans and stuff. They thought it was the enhanced above the original value. So I got a little better value. We had the option of taking a buy back offer. If you wanted to sell the house back to the government in x number of years, they would give you a 15% discount on your house. But I didn't opt for that. I figured by then, I was going to stay. [LAUGHTER] They had a cafeteria in a building next to the 703 Building, that old Quonsethut-shaped building, that later became commercial facilities. But we could go in there for breakfast and get meals that were partly for military style, like powdered scrambled eggs and stuff like that. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And what about entertainment at the time you were living in the dorms? Were there things to do entertainment-wise?
Soldat: Oh, okay. The people that lived in the dormitories could join the dorm club. We did all kinds of things. We had parties, dances, skiing, bike riding, hiking—everything before all these individual groups were established. So they covered the whole share. I learned to ski a little bit at Spout Springs, made it down the beginner's hill.
Bauman: And you said you met your wife during that time?
Soldat: Yes.
Bauman: Was she working also at the Hanford Site, then?
Soldat: She was a secretary. And she worked for a while. We got married in June, and in December, she had to quit because she was pregnant. They would not allow, at that time, pregnant women to work after fourth or fifth month. And then she never did go back to work. But she got involved in things like volunteering at the Red Cross, and Republican Women's Club, and all the things kept her busy.
Bauman: Did you meet as part of some social activity? Or was it on the job, at work that you met?
Soldat: She did all this being a housewife, all those things.
Bauman: But how did the two of you meet? Was it at a--
Soldat: I'm trying hard to remember.
Bauman: Oh, okay. [LAUGHTER]
Soldat: I think I was introduced by a mutual friend, a guy that I used to bowl together. That's the other thing we had for entertainment in Richland, was bowling. And I liked doing that. But one of the guys I bowled with, we went to the restaurant. Next to the Richland Players Theater used to be a drug store, and they had a little cafeteria in there. We went in there, and we met these two women. And he knew one of them. The other one was going to become my wife. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Let's move now to the work you did at Hanford. What was your first job?
Soldat: My first job while I was waiting for my clearance was in what was the bioassay lab in 700 Area doing statistical analysis of the results of the analysis of employees’ urine for radioactive contamination. I wasn't allowed to know everything I was analyzing. But I did a statistical analysis. I had a orange card, which allowed me in, because I didn't have my clearance. Theoretically, I was supposed to be escorted in and out. But there was such a mob of people going in and out they never bothered to ask me whomy escort was. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So where was this at?
Soldat: 700 Area, 703 Building—the old one. And the bioassay lab was inside the 716 Building, I think it was.
Bauman: And so how long did you do that?
Soldat: I did that--well, I came in August, '48. And it was five months before I got my clearance. Then I went out to T Plant as a radiation monitor in training.
Bauman: And how long did you work there?
Soldat: Oh, gosh, I worked there for a couple of years. And then I got transferred to environmental monitoring. Out there in 2-East Area, environmental monitoring people were housed in an old Quonset hut next to the coal pile. You had to go in and sweep your desk off with a broom every morning to get the coal dust off of it. [LAUGHTER] And I stayed there for a while. I did some projects, calibrating some instruments, and other things. And then we moved to 329 Building in 300 Area. I think it was in the early '50s. And I stayed in environmental monitoring work ever since, through the rest of my career, writing impact statements, deriving equations for calculating dose to the public from releases at Hanford in food, and water, and air, and stuff like that. And my models are still being used some places. I was--we didn't have a lot of data. But I learned from the turtle you don't make progress unless you stick your neck out. That’s how they do. Sometimes throw darts at the chemistry chart on the wall. And say, well, this one should behave like that one, and put together what we could know. And my coworker Dave Baker was a computer guy. I'm not very good at computers. But he computerized a lot of my equations and stuff. Between us, we agreed and what kind of factors to use. There was some literature from the fallout studies. There was a fellow named Yoka Ng, N-G, in California who had to put together a lot of data for the fallout branch on concentrations of various chemical elements in soil and plants, which made it very easy for me to predict the update of the radionuclides.
Bauman: So, what kind of findings did you have at some of your research about things that happened at Hanford in terms of the air, and water, and so forth?
Soldat: Well, depends on what you want. It all started in '58 when Jack Healy gave a paper at the International Atomic Energy Symposium. And he talked about what we were measuring in the environment, and the kind of findings that we had. And we eventually created a maximum individual person who ate big amounts of food, and drank milk from cows, and fish from the river, and all that. And then we calculated the dose he would get from concentrations in these things. And things were generally below the limits that they had at those times. Originally, in the early years the limits for the public were the same as workers. It took them a while to figure out that there are, perhaps, more sensitive people in the public because workers were all health screened and everything. So they lowered all the public limits by a factor of ten to be safer. And we also had to put controls on releases to the atmosphere. The manager of the radiation protection department—it call was called health instruments at first—set limits for the reprocessing plants, and how much iodine they could release, and other things. And they worked hard during those years in the '50s and '60s putting in new cleanup equipment on the stacks—sand filters. And then eventually PUREX had fiberglass filters to remove the particles and stuff. So I've installed sampling equipment on all of the stacks, and the separation there is, some of them before and after the cleanup so they could see what the efficiency was. And I kept track, by going to the operating gallery, what kind of metal they were processing, how old it was, how much it had decayed, so we could relate things to what we were finding at the stacks. That data is still around. And when they did the dose reconstruction under Bruce Napier, they used a lot of my old data about the stack releases. Fortunately, Bruce had an office next to me. [LAUGHTER] So we communicated.
Bauman: So you worked there for how many years at Hanford?
Soldat: 47.
Bauman: 47, you must have seen a lot of changes in technology, instrumentation, those sorts of things?
Soldat: And administration. [LAUGHTER] Yeah. GE, at one time, I think it must have been in the '50s, decided that they would have no job description titled assistant, or under-secretary, or whatever like that. There would be no committees doing any administration. Every job had to have a written, definitive description specifying the duties, and the authorities, and the obligations. And it worked well for a long time. And then before that, when I wanted to get a paper cleared, I had to go through about half a dozen signatures, including public relations, of course. But then later on, I--essentially with my boss and one guy from public relations--they all had to clear my public papers. And it worked out well then. Then Battelle took over, reorganized things a little bit. And a funny thing happened. I had a secret clearance with GE. When Battelle took over, they decided that they didn't want to have too many secret clearances to manage. So they lowered my clearance and several other people’s. I want to the library to get a report I had written in 1949, classified secret. They gave it to me on microfiche. I read it, and I asked for a full printed copy. The remark I got eventually was, you can't it. You're not cleared for it. What are you going to do, brainwash me? [LAUGHTER] So Battelle had to raise my clearance back to what it was before.
Bauman: Because you had written secret reports?
Soldat: I talked about iodine releases to the environment, and measurements inside the 200 Areas.
Bauman: I understand you were involved in a comprehensive food model?
Soldat: Yeah.
Bauman: What was that?
Soldat: Well, about the late '60s, Westinghouse had a project to try and calculate doses to the US public from a large nuclear economy, especially reactors, and ignoring the waste part. And they needed to know what would be in food, and water, and air, and everything. And a fellow by the name of Bill Templeton who was an aquatic biologist worked with me at first. And then, finally, he said, okay, Joe. You're doing all right. So he turned me loose. But I had a fellow, Dennis Harr, who came to Hanford from Alaska. He was a forest hydrologist. They assigned him to me to help look up the factors I needed. He came here to WSU--or to Pullman, really—and looked up all of thinking about how much a cow eats, how much water they drink, and how many acres of this and that is growing. So he was very helpful looking all that stuff up for me. I just sat down and wrote an equation. I had heard that in the Windscale accident that the iodine they released stuck about 25% to plants. So I used that factor. And I added that stuff from Yoka Ng with the soil to plant ratios. So I modeled the uptake from soil, and combine all that in a big long equation with about 21 parameters. And I gave a paper on that at an ANS meeting in the '70s. And I also developed a diagram—a pathway diagram I call it--with all of the lines from all of the sources going across and interacting. And then at the end, they combined for the dose at the end. And that got published, too, in my '70 paper. And I did put all that stuff together with some other things for Reg Guide 1.109. It included my calculated dose factors for people of four ages--four years, 11 years, 17 or 16, and adult, because the organ sizes are different. So the doses are different. That was in there, my food model was in there, and then I developed a model for exposure to sediment in the Columbia River. Dick Perkins had measured three or four radionuclides in the sediment in the Columbia River as best you could, because it's awful rocky on the bottom. And analysis of that told me what the relationship was between the water and the sediment, assuming it had been running for many years, and had time to come to equilibrium. So I developed the equation for that, which included the radioactive half-life of the elements. And that was used in several instances in impact statements about--I think it was '59, they had something called a Calvert Cliffs Decision, in which they were trying to build a reactor. And the government was forced to do an environmental impact statement on every existing reactor and every new reactor. First rule was 100 pages’ length. But it still grew, because people were copying what other people had done. Well, this flew, so we'll put it in. Then they add unique things to their site. And it kept growing and growing. But there were 50 reactors that had to have impact statements. And they split it up three ways between Argonne National Laboratory, Oak Ridge, and Hanford. And I got involved in the Hanford one. First time I used my sediment model was for plants on the shore of Lake Michigan, and exposure to people standing on the shoreline--first time I used it off-site. And we calculated the dose someone might receive from the sediment contaminated from the water which came from the reactor outlet that was diluted before it got to where the fishermen was. So that was added to the impact statement, along with the fish, and all the other stuff that we normally did.
Bauman: Hanford, of course, when you first arrived was all about production. But at some point that shifted to cleanup. Did that shift impact your work in anyway?
Soldat: Well, yes and no. [LAUGHTER] It changed exactly what I was doing. But I was still doing environmental stuff. For cleanup—well, before that we were doing impact statements for new things at Hanford, like a front end for PUREX to do 100 N fuel, and all kinds of stuff. Afterwards, I was doing impact statements and studies forproposed cleanup. There was a big, fat three-volume document--I think it was SWASH 1400, it started out. It ended up being ERDA 1400. And in there, they studied every possible waste source, contamination source, potential for accidents and exposure. And I did a lot of those calculations. So one thing they wanted, which is very current today, they wanted to know, what would happen if a tank leaked? They said, what would happen if 1,000 gallons of tank leaked all at once? So I got a guy, Andy Reisenhauer, in the water department we called them. He was doing ground water studies. And he figured it out. With this modeling, he showed how small the contaminated area would be, and how, essentially harmless and well-confined to the immediate vicinity it was. And I get all upset now a days about the clamor about everybody that don't understand what's going on, even the governor. [LAUGHTER] At least he tried.
Soldat: Yeah. Battelle just took over everything we were doing. Almost all people came directly to Battelle. There were a few that stayed in the 200 Areas the reprocessing areas. But some of them later came to Battelle. So a few stayed out there, worked for the various contractors they had. But it was nice, because having been altogether in GE, I could still communicate with those people when I needed information and data on releases, and access, and things. I could talk to them directly. I didn't have to go up and down the channels.
Bauman: You mentioned earlier that you had written a secret report. And you had to go back and look at it, they initially told you you couldn't. As a site that, obviously, emphasized security and secrecy, I wonder if you could talk about how the emphasis on secrecy and security impacted your work in anyway.
Soldat: Well, I told you what happened to me when I was working in the 700 Area. And I got here in '48. In '53, they renewed the Q clearances. I got called in the FBI for interview. They said, when you were in college—that's like in '46 or '47--you attended a meeting of, I think it was, SDS, which was supposed to be a Communist-related organization. They had a meeting in the park. They were complaining about their treatment. And it was a big hullabaloo. And I decided I'd go down and see what was going on. Apparently, they had spies watching all these people. So they started asking me questions about that. And I explained it away to their satisfaction. They said, do you ever read The Communist Manifesto? I said, no, but maybe I should someday. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: When you first started working there, did you take the bus out to the site?
Soldat: Pardon?
Bauman: When you first started working there, how did you get to the site and back? Did you take the bus out? Did you drive a car?
Soldat: There was no background checks when I first came, because I had that work card. It took them five months to do all the investigations of relatives and friends to find out if I was reliable. And I finally got my Q clearance. But they may have reviewed things other than that one I know about since. But the FBI was doing it at that time. Later on, they farmed it out to a different government agency. And I don't think the checks were quite as thorough at that time. But you couldn't drive through the project like you can today. When you want to go to the west side, you can drive down towards Vantage through the project. It's all right. But it used to be all sealed off. You had to go around by Robinson's barn to get where you're going.
Bauman: And when you went through security at the gate, did you have to show a badge?
Soldat: Well, after I got my clearance, they checked everybody's badge going through. At one time in 300 Area, they had a badge rack. You would put your badge in the rack to go home. They didn't want you taking it off site. Well, one thing, you might get exposed from TV. [LAUGHTER] The old TV sets had a relatively high energy coming out at the bottom. Some kid sat there with his feet under the TV set, he might get a little bit of exposure. And so one day, I wore some radiation dosimeters, those pencil dosimeters on myself while I was watching TV at a distance. And then I put some by the TV set to compare the readings. And there was a small difference. [LAUGHTER] Yeah, at first, I thought security was a little lax because of the way they were letting you go through 700 Area, first few months. But it got pretty tight afterwards.
Soldat: Well, there was a few, of course. They had limits they set on the releases for iodine-131. They had an experiment in which they wanted to have short cooled fuel, which would have more iodine in it, to released short-lived inert gases like Xenon and Krypton to the atmosphere so the Air Force could fly around with a plane and measure it. As I figure out, the idea was they could fly around Russia and see what kind of production they might be having from what they could detect in the air over a facility. Well, when they had—it's called a green run, when they had that, the iodine came out. And there was a little bit of to-do about that in later years, and people being exposed. And even before the iodine releases were controlled, there was quite a few releases. But in later years, I used my rules of thumb I learned, and my models to predict what doses probably were in the early years before they had reconstruction done. And I came probably within a factor of two of what they spent millions of dollars to calculate. [LAUGHTER] But that was one thing. And then they had some fuel that was mislabeled, and it was short cooled, that released iodine in the 200 Areas. And we went out and studied the vegetation on the project, and all around. Well, it turns out the iodine was held in the tanks for a while. And the vegetation that we measured didn't have any until they transferred the solution to another tank. Then the iodine escaped. And then we could find it on the vegetation—we found it in the Pasco area, and West Richland. And the meteorological group predicted it would--according to the weather, it should be high in north of Pasco. Well, it wasn't high there. It was higher in Benton City than it was in Richland. And there was a Benton City farm that had milk. And we sampled that milk every day for a long time, and plotted the curve as it decayed. And I backtracked it for a couple of days that we had missed. And I calculated the radiation dose a kid might have drinking that milk. And the standard model was one liter of milk a day. And I calculated all that. And we couldn't get the kids to come in to get a thyroid check for awhile. The mother was reluctant. Finally, he came in months later. And at that point, I predicted the thyroid burden ought to be 70 picocuries. And it turned out, he was measured 72 picocuries. Then something really interesting happened with that. Some anti-nuclears said that I had reported on this thing, and the dose was less than a fraction of the limits. So it's all right to die by a fraction at a time. Somebody else picked that up, and said I had pin pointed the death of a small child drinking that milk. So some guy from Oak Ridge, his name was Piper, investigated all this stuff, and tried to put everything straight, and straighten out all these misconceptions. But you can see what happens to the press.
Bauman: So what time period was that?
Soldat: That was in '63. It's all published in Health Physics Journal, and all that stuff. They had an iodine symposium in 1963—a biology symposium. People all over the world came here. And we met in the old community house, this little anteroom off to the side, with swamp coolers. And it was 116 in Pasco. [LAUGHTER] It was a mess. But we published a whole book of the papers. And I have a couple in here, at least by abstract anyway. I learned alot about the different factors, again, and improved my knowledge of what was going on.
Bauman: So when there were releases of iodine, you were involved in calculating the--
Soldat: Yeah.
Bauman: Measurements?
Soldat: Yeah, another thing I did was I stood out by a met tower wearing a respirator device that measured my breathing rate by volume. And they released iodine--I think it was 135 or 132, a real short half life--that another guy and I could stand there and inhale. And then we went and got our thyroids counted, and watched the decay, and integrated the whole thing. And my total dose was probably about ten millirem, compared to the limit, which was 1,500 a year at that time. Herb Parker got real mad, because we hadn't checked with him to see if it was okay. He said we should have our thyroids examined before we did it. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So you were used as test subjects?
Soldat: The other release was from REDOX--ruthenium--there was two rutheniums: 106, and 103. And the scrubber in the plant that was supposed to remove these from their exhaust failed. And it released about 40 curie of ruthenium out the stack. It was detectable on Wahluke Slope, and all the way up just southeast of Spokane. It missed all of real good farms, and everything, fortunately. So we went up collecting a lot of samples from that. Then there was a contamination on Hanford itself on the roofs of some of the buildings and the ground. So that was all cleaned up. I spent some time monitoring transportation workers who were going around picking up particles around the 200 Areas. The other thing that happened is they found radioactive rabbits and coyotes--BC trenches, in 2 East Area. They disposed of waste which had cesium. And, of course, it's a salt relative to sodium in the nucleic chart. And the rabbits got in there were eating the waste with the cesium, and digging down. And the coyotes were eating the rabbits. And so we were finding this contaminated environment, and traced it down to that. It didn't travel more than a mile or two. Rabbits have a very short range. They don't travel more than a couple miles. And so that had to all get cleaned up, and covered over, put to rest. There was a few things like that.
Bauman: Did any of these incidents or releases--were there ever any that you looked at, studied, calculated, and found that it was a risk to employees, or to the public at all?
Soldat: No, most of them were--the release of the strontium, the highest concentration found at Wahluke Slope across the river was--if a guy stood there and breathed the whole time the cloud time went by, he might have got 80 milligram to the lungs. And, of course, at that time, we were getting 100 milligram a year from radiation. And the limit to the public was 1,500. So, really, it wasn't that significant.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about a little bit different part of it. President Kennedy visited in 1963 to open the N Reactor.
Soldat: Yeah, I want to see--
Bauman: Were you there? Were you part of it?
Soldat: I was standing far back in the crowd. And I could barely see the President. They opened up to the site to the public to go there. And I rode with a friend. And he and his son went with me. We watched that thing.
Bauman: Do you remember anything else about that day? Or just being really far away?
Soldat: Well, I remember when the helicopter landed with the President inside it, kicked up an awful lot of dust. I was glad that maybe it wasn't all that contaminated for people to breathe.
Bauman: Do you remember any other time when any dignitaries came to the site?
Soldat: Yeah, I just noticed something I looked at this week. Nixon visited Battelle facilities, the main research building. And Ronald Reagan was here one time.
Soldat: Well, I don't know. The least of my challenges was working with administration, because usually they managed to turn me loose when they found out what I was doing. I think that the challenge was finding data in the open literature that I could use to put into my models. I'd go to the library in those days, you would ask for literature, and sit down, and read it, and take notes—not like today. So I found things, eventually, from researchers in Russia who had studied uptake and radionuclides in fish, and studies at Oak Ridge on fallout in cattle, and all these things. But finding data was a little hard, not because it was classified. But it was in the open literature, and you had to think about where it might be located. That was one of my most challenging things. The other challenge was to learning how to use Word Perfect. [LAUGHTER] My secretary forced me to learn it. She helped teach me because she couldn't read my handwriting. That was a challenge for a while. I still have trouble with computers. But I think the biggest reward was all of the recognition I got from management, and Health Physics Society, and other groups. I got a file about that thick that I labeled Kudos. And when they have the recouplex incident in 234-5that had a solution that wasn't handled right. And it had a nuclear reaction, in an outfit called recouplex. We worked a week or so overtime in evening, and around the clock some of us, working on the effects of that, and the dose to the people. And I had measurements of the stack gases. And I predicted from the stack gases how many fissions had occurred in that pot. And then the other guys, the real nuclear experts, came and did theirs. And we agreed within a factor of two again. But, yeah, it never really did much off-site again. It dissipated before it got anywheres. We plotted the path, and by the time it reached the boundary of the site over towards Pasco it was essentially nothing. Because whenyou have a nuclear reaction like that, you generate a lot of short-lived radionuclides with seconds, and minutes, and days. And so it really wasn't that effective off-site.
Bauman: What was the time period of that incident?
Soldat: I want to say April '62, I guess. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Being involved in environmental monitoring, and monitoring the effects of releases and that sort of thing, did you at any point—it seems like at some point, nuclear power became--like, certain groups opposed that, right? You hadgroups that became opposed to nuclear power, and the use of--
Soldat: Obtained what?
Bauman: Opposed to nuclear power--
Soldat: Oh, oh.
Bauman: Anti-nuclear stuff. Did you feel that at all at work, I mean or stuff you were involved in?
Soldat: Well, yeah--well, there are people off-site who--that story I told you about that small child. And then there was another guy, he worked at the University of Pittsburgh. I'm trying to remember his name. He predicted all the dire results of fallout from strontium-90. He gave a talk at strontium-90 symposium in biologyput on here one time. And he came to me and says, I need to get my slides remade. What he was doing was correlating the concentration of strontium-90 in milk and leukemia in children. Well, this curve went to pot. And he decided he needed to summarize, average it, over two years. And eventually that went to pot. It didn't work. So then he eventually tried four years. And he asked me if I could get his slides rebuilt for his talk so he could use them for a four-year average. So I went to Bill Bair who was the manager of the symposium. And he said, sure, we'll do it for him. And they did. And he used them. Of course, a lot of people in the audience knew better than to believe what he was saying.
Bauman: Is there anything that we haven't talked about yet that you would like to talk about? That I haven't asked you about?
Soldat: Well, I got some awards. I don't know if you're interested. The local chapter Health Physics Society gave me what's called a Herb Parker Award for Distinguished Service. And then I got elected fellow of the National Society. And then I got the National Distinguished Scientific Achievement Award from the Health Physics Society, which was sort of a review of my total career, and all the, quote, the great things that I had done. The environmental section in the National Health Physics Society established an award for environmental radioactivity measurements type of stuff. And a fellow, a friend, Jack Corley, who worked here, and I got the first ones that they awarded for that as distinguished service. And then I got a plaque from Bill Bair when he was retiring. So he's such a nice guy, he awarded about three or four plaques to employees outlining their distinguished careers. I was one of them. And it's for all the work I had done on radioiodine. So I got that plaque.
Bauman: And you're involved in the Herbert Parker Foundation? Is that right? Are you part of that?
Soldat: I volunteered not to get involved in the Parker Foundation. I let Ron Kathren, and Bill Bair and Dale Denham, and all these guys do it. I worked for a little while after I retired for Dave Muller and Associates to help with the down-winders case, writings some papers on it, and releases, and another one with Jack Selby on plutonium releases from the 200 Areas that were used in the hearings for that business. I haven't really--well, people call me up every once in a while and ask questions—pro bono. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Overall, how would you assess your 47 years working at Hanford as a place to work?
Soldat: For me, it was a great job. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I had wonderful people, except maybe one case of this one boss. But totally great people, and I felt like I was doing something worth while. And it was useful. Later on, it got to be where everybody was writing impact statements, which are not a product. It bothered me a little bit. Even I got involved. And those were kind of necessary. EPA at one time says, we need you to calculate the effect of this dose out to the year 10,000. I said, what? So I got out my business card. And I changed it from environmental engineer to science fiction writer. [LAUGHTER] But I had a great time. I tried to get in the army when I first graduated from high school. And I couldn't because of my ears. And the Navy wouldn't take me because of my eyes, the program for officers. So I ended up—third choice was out here to do my part. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you very much for coming in today, and sharing your stories with us, and your experiences. I appreciate it.
Soldat: I hope it's been useful.
Bauman: Yes. Thank you.
Soldat: Yeah, just carrying this around helped me remember.
Northwest Public Television | Sutter_Sue
Robert Bauman: Well, I think we're ready to get started.
Sue Sutter: All right.
Bauman: So let's start by having you say your name and spell your last name for us.
Sutter: Sue Sutter, S-U-T-T-E-R.
Bauman: Great, thank you. And my name is Robert Bauman, and we're conducting this oral history interview on July 23rd of 2014, on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So I wonder if you could start by telling us, first of all, when you came to Hanford and what brought you here.
Sutter: Well, it all started when I was in college. I was at Washington State. It was a college then. And they came up there and interviewed, and they gave most of us jobs. They needed warm bodies down here. And so I had a job when I came down here in June 21st of 1948.
Bauman: And what did you major in in college at WS--?
Sutter: Chemistry. They needed a lot of chemists. And then when I came here, my folks brought me over from Seattle in a car. And we came to North Richland. Well, I signed in downtown, and we came out to North Richland, where I was supposed to go. And where I was assigned to live, at least temporarily, was in North Richland. It had a wire, a cyclone fence around it, topped by three rows of barbed wire. I think it was made for prisoners of war or something like that. I didn't think my parents were going to leave me there, but they did. And I'd never seen one before. They had a community shower, you know, like the men have. I was the only person there. And the next day, they found me a place downtown. I was in W5. W5 was the women's dorm. And it was right above the Green Hut Cafe, where everybody ate all the time, because that's about what it was, that and Thrifty Drug. And when I was there, I met some of the—it was when I was going through the hospital, one of my friends from college was working there, and she happened to be in the same dorm. And I went. That was about it. And I don't remember starting work. And where do you want to go from here now?
Bauman: Well, what was your first job? What sort of work were you doing?
Sutter: Oh, what they called essential materials. It was in 300 Area. And everything that came on to the plant had to be chemically verified. And that was what that job was. And I was working there for about three years. And then I got married. That's where I met my husband. He was in the lab, too—a chemist.
Bauman: What were your first impressions when you arrived in the area here? Do you remember?
Sutter: No, I don't. After you've gone away to college, I went over on the train from college, you're used to things changing at that time. It didn't strike me as odd at all. What was odd was that when I first came, I was in North Richland and I had to eat out of the cafeteria there. And it was all full of construction workers. [LAUGHTER] But I survived. But I was only out there a couple of days, and then I moved to town.
Bauman: And you said you worked for three years out at the 300 Area then?
Sutter: Yes.
Bauman: And you met your husband. Was your husband also working there?
Sutter: Yeah, we were in 3706 Building, which has long since been destroyed.
Bauman: And you mentioned your dorm was right above the cafe.
Sutter: Yeah. Oh, that's it. And there were a lot of young people here. They had money and no place to go. And so every weekend—a few of them had cars—so we all left town. And we went down to Lost Lake in Oregon on one trip. And I remember one trip we went to Long Beach, Washington, and just various around here. Because there was nothing here. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: I was going to ask you, was there anything in town for entertainment?
Sutter: Oh, I think there was a movie theater. And Thrifty Drug. I don't recall any particular entertainment. Of course, we were here for working. Well, that's why we left town.
Bauman: So after three years working at the 300 Area, you got married. Where did you live it at point then?
Sutter: Oh, we were able to get a house. Houses were assigned to married people. We lived on Farrell Lane. And we lived there for about three years. And then they decided they were going to sell all the houses, and that's when we bought the house in Kennewick. You have the information on selling the houses.
Bauman: Right, yes.
Sutter: We were the junior tenants in a duplex.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Sutter: And we moved to Kennewick, and we stayed there ever since. We were lucky to find a house that worked very well for us over there.
Bauman: So let's go back to your work, then, a little bit. What was your work like? How was it as a place to work, the 300 Area, when you were there?
Sutter: It was just a lab. There were a lot of funny people working there, different people working there. One of the technicians, she stole all the cheesecloth, and she wrapped it around her head and took it out with her every day. [LAUGHTER] But I can't remember much of working. I'm sorry.
Bauman: That's okay. That's fine. And did your husband continue working then there at the same area?
Sutter: No, after I got pregnant, I stayed home. And it was 1965, I think, when I went back to work. I worked for Battelle. And I worked there until I retired.
Bauman: And what kind of job was that?
Sutter: Well, it varied. At Battelle, you do whatever needs to be done. And I was—I've forgotten. I was working at a lab at first. And I ended up helping with quality assurance for some of the people. That was a good job.
Bauman: And how long did you work there, then?
Sutter: I retired in 1968. Is that right?
Man one: I think it was after I got out of high school. Did you tell them about you were a wind tunnel scientist?
Sutter: Oh, yeah, I worked in atmospheric sciences after some time at Battelle. And I operated a wind tunnel. And this was for—they were trying to find out how much would blow around out on the site. And so we went out and picked up samples on the dirt. And then we put measured amounts in the wind tunnel and see how far it goes and how long it stayed there, that type of information. And all this went into the environmental impact statement that they had to make when they were operating. And the annoying thing is, everybody thought my husband did that work. [LAUGHTER] It's the way it was.
Bauman: When you first came in 1948 and were in the women's dorms, did you take buses to get out to the site?
Sutter: Yes. But I don't remember anything. I know we had to take buses. You could not drive cars in on the site then. Oh, that's it. We took one bus, and we went up to the bus lot, and then you got on to the bus that took you out to where you were working. Quite an operation.
Bauman: And when you then went back to work in the '60s, were you still taking buses? Or were you driving your own car out there?
Sutter: There were still buses. I've forgotten where I was working. And then for a while, when I got transferred out to the atmospheric sciences building, the meteorological station, I rode out to that area with my husband. Because he was in 2-West at that time. He was a supervisor.
Bauman: And when you started working in 1948 as a chemist, were there are a lot of other women chemists at Hanford at the time?
Sutter: There were several of us, about five or six—I mean, considering all, yes.
Bauman: So you lived in Richland for a while, got married, then you moved to Kennewick. Is that right?
Sutter: Yes.
Bauman: Okay. One of events that happened, I know, was in 1963, President Kennedy came to dedicate the N Reactor. Do you remember that at all?
Sutter: Oh, I remember it. I took my three children out there with me. I was not working then, and then we drove out there. And all I can remember is this one over here, she ran away. And I decided I wasn't going to even be worried about her, because I wanted to see Kennedy. He was quite a charismatic person. And Paul was there, too. We were all there. And I have another daughter, too.
Bauman: Do you remember much about the day itself?
Sutter: It was about 80 degrees. Oh, and I can remember Kennedy was so surprised when he started the reactor with a probe of some kind. A lot of traffic. Took me a long time to get home. My husband had gone out there. Everybody who worked there went there on buses, and so he got home way long time before I did. [LAUGHTER] It was well attended.
Bauman: Do you remember any other events or incidents, things that happened when you either were working at Hanford or living in the area here?
Sutter: I can't think of any right now.
Man one: What about your dorm social clubs?
Sutter: My what?
Man one: The social clubs in the dorm?
Sutter: Oh, yeah, we belonged to the dorm club. That's the one that we went someplace every weekend. That's just the dorm club. Oh, and they had dances in town, too. In fact, I think I brought over a picture of one of those if you—you can have them.
Bauman: Great.
Man one: The Sadie Hawkins Day dance.
Sutter: They don't have Sadie Hawkins anymore.
Bauman: They do, actually.
Sutter: Do they?
Bauman: The high schools do.
Sutter: Okay, but we were all just a little bit older. But you just had to make your own entertainment. And that was a good one.
Bauman: So did you and your husband meet at work?
Sutter: Yes.
Bauman: At the 300 Area?
Sutter: Actually in 300 Area. Oh, and another thing we used to do is everybody drank beer. We'd go out by the Yakima River and drink beer after work in the evening, swing shift or something. It was just fun.
Bauman: Mm-hm. So you've seen a lot of change in the time that you--
Sutter: Oh, my Lord, yes.
Bauman: Obviously one change that happened at Hanford was a shift from production to cleanup.
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: I don't know if you want to talk about that a little bit.
Sutter: Well, all I did was run the wind tunnel. We generated information so they could do the environmental impact statement before they started doing something out there. And we'd go out in the field, and I know they had picked up all kind of material to run through the wind tunnel to see what happened to it.
Bauman: I know there was a lot of emphasis on security at Hanford and secrecy. Can you talk about that at all, what that was like?
Sutter: It was pretty straightforward. You had a badge, and you had to show it every time you went in and out. And it went pretty easily.
Bauman: Were you able to talk about your work at all?
Sutter: You weren't supposed to. But it wasn't interesting work, so I didn't want to talk about it anyway. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And what about the community itself? How did that change over the years?
Sutter: Well, the community, they built the ranch houses. And we got a lot of bad dust storms then. And I was home with children, and you just don't get out in the community much. There wasn't much here that’s all.
Man one: Mom?
Sutter: Yes?
Man one: Did you ever talk about an incident, I guess you were down on the river and security came out to see what you were doing or something like that?
Sutter: I don't remember anything like that.
Man one: Oh, okay. I thought I—Or boating or something and the army showed up?
Woman one: Well, there was a--
Sutter: You should have prepped me for this.
Woman one: Wasn't there a military base, too?
Sutter: A what?
Woman one: A military base out there, Camp Hanford?
Sutter: Well, yeah, Camp Hanford was there for a while, yeah. I don't remember. I wasn't working when it was Camp Hanford. I can remember baking a cake for the soldiers. That's about it.
Bauman: Oh, did you?
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: Was there a specific reason for baking a cake?
Sutter: Oh, I belonged to a club. And that was their project that they were on, and so I've participated, just once that I can remember. We lived in a B house. Oh, and all the coal was furnished free, coal furnace in the basement. [LAUGHTER] You don't know about those. My husband called it the iron monster because you'd have to bang it so it would start the next morning. He was on shift work, and it's not the best way to go.
Bauman: So were you renting the B house then?
Sutter: You paid some rent. There was nominal rent. It was cheap. And as I remember, they furnished the coal. And if something happened, you just called down, like my dear son, he's flushed potatoes down the toilet. And you'd call somebody, and the plumber comes out immediately and takes care of it.
Man one: And what did you do that night for dinner?
Sutter: I gave you potato soup. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So a lot of the service or repair work was--
Sutter: It was done by somebody. They were just like a landlord. But you had to mow the lawn and water it.
Bauman: You had to take care of yard, that sort of thing. So how long did your husband work at Hanford then?
Sutter: Until he retired. I think he worked there for 50 years. No, not that long.
Woman one: Well, if he was working in '76 when I was in high school.
Sutter: Yeah, I don't remember how long. But he worked there until he retired. It was a good job. You could move from job to job at that time because it was all under one contractor. And he worked in 2 East and 2 West as well as I think North Richland.
Bauman: So what was the most challenging--was there any part of your work that you did at Hanford that you would think was sort of the most challenging thing that you did or the most rewarding?
Sutter: I think the most fun was just before I retired. It was when I was running a wind tunnel, and it was out in 2 East Area in an old evaporator building. I remember there were just the two of us. I was there with a technician, and we had a wind tunnel. And all these things that we’d gathered out on the terrain, we'd put them in the wind tunnel to see what they were going to do and how far they would go. And then this was put into a report that I wrote. And the annoying thing is, everybody thought my husband wrote it. Because they just put it with your initials.
Bauman: What were the findings of that report? Do you remember what did you--
Sutter: I have no idea. It didn't matter to us. This much went along, and if you're a researcher, you just give them the results. I think they were able to do all the work anyway. But it was fun. You'd go out, and you'd gather up these—there were rabbits out there. And they liked to sit on top of the hills. And so that was a rich place to get samples. Research is really fun work. Because it doesn't matter. You get an answer. And that's the answer. If they don't like it, that's their problem.
Bauman: Overall, then, how was Hanford as a place to work?
Sutter: Well, I unfortunately had a manager—I shouldn't--he was Mormon. And he didn't think women should be working. However, the next level up really believed in women. So he's the one that--I was treasurer for the local ACS. And I wanted to go to the meeting in Hawai’i. And my immediate manager wouldn't let me, but the next one up sent me. When you're an officer, they usually will let you go to something like that. So that's how I got to Hawai’i. I figure all the men do it, and so I was trying to do the same thing.
Bauman: That's a good place to go for a conference.
Sutter: Yeah, oh, yes. One of the women from another contractor was there, and she even came to the meetings in her bathing suit, if came at all. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: When was this about that you did that?
Sutter: Well, I was still working, so I don't really--
Bauman: The '60s?
Sutter: Yeah. I can't remember that long ago.
Bauman: Is there anything I haven't asked you about yet or that you haven't talked about that you think is important to talk about?
Sutter: No, I can't think of anything.
Man one: What was it like being a woman and working in this area, predominantly male?
Sutter: Well, that didn't bother me except some of them are prejudiced against women. And actually, when I was out, we had the lab out where the wind tunnel in 2 East. And the fellow I worked with was really good. He was a farmer from over in Pasco. He raised apples. But he would just do anything that needed to be done. It didn't matter whether you were a woman or man. He'd do anything. Oh, the funny thing about that is the building that we had, they had a restroom in it. And they didn't have a door on it. So my manager had them put a door in it. But they put a door in it with a window. [LAUGHTER] So they had to change the door.
Bauman: That didn't help a whole lot, did it?
Sutter: No, but there were just the two of us working there. We had to report over to the Atmospheric Sciences building and then drive over to where the wind tunnel was.
Bauman: Oh, I see, okay.
Woman one: Mom, you shared with me the difficulty at getting a raise, the difficulty getting a raise in pay.
Bauman: Did you have difficulty getting a raise?
Sutter: Oh, yeah. My manager said the raise is--this is more than I wanted to give you. He wanted the raises for the men, because they have a family to take care of. He doesn't realize I have all these kids to take care of, too, and one daughter who went on to college and is now an engineer out there.
Bauman: Were you able to get the raise?
Sutter: Oh, yeah, oh, yes. You have to be persistent.
Bauman: Do you happen to remember what your salary was, say, when you started in 1948 at all?
Sutter: It's about $100 a week. I don't really remember. It was adequate for the time.
Bauman: Do you remember any other challenges being a woman working there in the 1940s and 1960s?
Sutter: Well, like that this one manager who just didn't believe in women.
Bauman: But you said the person above him--
Sutter: Just fine person, yeah. And that's always helpful.
Bauman: Right. I don't think I have any more questions for you.
Man one: Oh, excuse me. What was it like raising us kids in an area that didn't have a lot of support services and it was just all your contemporaries and nobody had any relatives in town or anything like that?
Sutter: I never thought about it.
Man one: It was what it was and you just coped with it?
Sutter: Yeah. Oh, and then I remember we babysat back and forth. I remember my friend Dusty was babysitting and Paul, all he'd do is hide in the closet. [LAUGHTER] That was a long time ago.
Bauman: But you'd find ways to help each other out?
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: Take care of the kids.
Woman one: And Dad was from--where was Dad from? New York?
Man one: Yeah, he went to University of Buffalo and was recruited out there.
Bauman: So you mentioned you went to Washington State College. Where were you from initially? When did you grow up?
Sutter: I was grown up in Seattle.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Sutter: And I went to college starting in home economics, and that's a dumb major. They don't give you anything challenging. And the only thing I liked the first year was chemistry, and that's why I majored in that.
Man one: I was curious. I kind of recalled once hearing a story about the way you met Dad was you accidentally left some battery acid on a stool or something like this? And it left a stain on his pants?
Sutter: I don't remember anything like that. No, he was just out there in the same lab. And then he was in this group that went on trips. He was one with a car!
Man one: So that made him popular?
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: So he went on some of these trips. You were part of the group?
Sutter: Yeah. Oh, we went down to Lost Lake in Oregon. I can remember that. And I knew Steve Buckingham. We were up there. Snow was on the ground. And he went in the water. And he said, it's warm! I can remember that one.
Man one: How many people would go on the trips?
Sutter: Yeah.
Man one: I mean, it was like four or five?
Sutter: Yeah, about that, because you just had cars. You didn't have anything big. There were no buses or anything taking you.
Woman one: So lack of family support, you built some really good friendships that you still have now.
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: About how often did you go on these trips?
Sutter: Oh, I'd say once a month or something. There was various degrees. It depends on what came to mind, what the people wanted.
Man one; What about the one where you left town and you got someplace and set up camp in the middle the night and Steve Buckingham found a--
Sutter: Oh, yeah, we were going over to Orcas Island. That was where we were going. And so we camped near Anacortes, and it was dark. And when we woke up, we found we camped in the garbage dump. [LAUGHTER] We went on our trip.
Bauman: That's a great story. Well, I want to thank you for coming in today and sharing your stories. And we're going to go ahead and make copies of the photos that you brought in.
Sutter: Oh, yeah, they're over there. I don't know. A lot of them you don't want.
Man one: Oh, I don't know. There's a lot of them that were--
Northwest Public Television | Sparre_Ilene
Ilene Sparre: You know, I spoke on the radio once. In the first six--at 30 seconds, I goofed it up so bad I just relaxed and said I already look like a fool. And then I was really good. [LAUGHTER] They invited me back. You know, it was the first 30 seconds that was so bad. [LAUGHTER]
Man One: I've had more than 30 seconds of bad radio in my time, so don't feel bad. [LAUGHTER]
Woman One: 30 seconds is pretty good.
Man One: That's excellent, really.
Robert Bauman: That’s not bad, actually. That's very good.
Man One: Anytime you're ready, I'm good.
Bauman: Okay.
Man One: Let's see. Your back light looks good.
Man Two: Yeah. Looks fine.
Man One: Okay.
Man Two: Yep.
Bauman: All right, we'll go ahead and get started then. So let's start by maybe first having you say your name and spell it for us.
Sparre: Okay. I am Ilene Gans-Sparre. And Ilene is I-L-E-N-E, Gans--G-A-N-S-, and Sparre--S-P-A-R-R-E .
Bauman: Great. All right, thank you. Today's date is August 28 of 2013. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So let's start by having you tell me a little bit about your family and how your family came to Richland. What brought them here and when?
Sparre: Well, my father had eight children, and we had two cousins living with us and grandma. So there was 13 of us. And he bought a farm in Richland close to Benton City on the clift. And there was a little river down there which we could walk to and fish in. It also had quicksand, which we learned to stay away from. [LAUGHTER] But it was a good place for all of us children to run around in. And, of course, he thought children was money because they could work on the farm, except, he had six girls, which kind of changed that. [LAUGHTER] But he had a dairy most of his life besides the farming. We just loved it because we had not so much rain, like on the West Coast. And we had all that sagebrush to run around in. And it was just great living out there. And of course, we did what other farmers did. We saved food for winter. We canned, we froze. We had a dirt cellar. And my dad built our house. Wasn't too good at first, but it got better. [LAUGHTER] Because there wasn't any money much. But we had a great life and lots to eat.
Bauman: So where did you move from?
Sparre: I think he moved from Idaho. He had inherited a piece of property. His father was 66 when he was born. And he was born in Lapwai, Idaho. And his father had gotten this property, 80 acres, for being in the Civil War. And my dad inherited that. But there wasn't any money in Idaho. There wasn't a lot of food and it was very difficult. So he managed to sell that and got this piece of property in Richland. And we built everything from scratch.
Bauman: And what were your parents' names?
Sparre: Ellen and Jesse Gans.
Bauman: And so what sort of crops did you grow on your farm?
Sparre: Actually, I remember the watermelon. I remember the potatoes and filling our dirt cellar with potatoes and onions and carrots. And then before the war, we always went to Yakima and picked hops, and got fruit and brought that back and canned it. But things changed during the war.
Bauman: How so?
Sparre: Okay. Well, my dad, because he had so many children, they did not want him in the army. But they made him go in the National Guard. And then he worked in the dairy on the farm during the day. And he guarded it at night. So he had to do that for two years. And in fact, he got in trouble quite a bit because he kept falling asleep while he was guarding in the middle of the night after working all day. [LAUGHTER] He got threatened with court martial a couple of times because he couldn't stay awake, you know?
Bauman: Where was he guarding?
Sparre: Hanford Project.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Sparre: They confiscated him for that and he was pretty close to it--you know, where our property was. And when they said do this, you did it. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So on your farm, on your property, what other--did you have any other buildings? Barns?
Sparre: Oh, we had lots of barns for the cows, you know. And of course, back then, there wasn't milking machines. So they had to be milked by hand. And the older brothers and sisters helped my dad with the milking before they went to school and after they got home. And we were all out there working all the time. [LAUGHTER] One of my fondest memories as a child was trying to start the car. You had to crank it. And mother was trying to start it but I was only three or four and I couldn't crank it fast enough. So my other sister put her foot in on the clutch. And I put my foot on the gas. And we sit on the floor. And when mother said let go of the clutch, and give it a little gas, but keep your foot on the brake, we did it. And we got it started. [LAUGHTER] This, you know, three and four-year-old.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] What kind of car was that?
Sparre: I have no idea. But it was an old Model T.
Bauman: Now, did you have electricity and telephone?
Sparre: It seems like, eventually, we got electricity. But we started out with candles and kerosene lamps and outhouses. We never had an inside bathroom in those days.
Bauman: And what about telephones?
Sparre: Oh, no. There wasn't a telephone anywhere. Anywhere around our area, there wasn't telephones, you know? I'm sure there must have been in town. But I don't think that I remember, when I was real little, there wasn't anybody to call. [LAUGHTER] The world was different then.
Bauman: Do you remember who any of your neighbors were at the time?
Sparre: Well, across the field, Peterson. His last name was Peterson. And he was our neighbor and my dad's best friend, which is probably why we settled there. Why we got the opportunity to buy that property. He had the farm next door. And it was very upsetting because he did get drafted in the army and he did not come home from the war. Which was very upsetting to my father because he had lost his older brother in World War I. You know so it was very meaningful to him.
Bauman: Sure. Sure.
Sparre: And then somewhere around the area lived the Shipleys. Claude Shipley, who was an aunt by--I mean, an uncle, by marriage. He married my dad's older sister. And his family lived around there. But where, you know, I don't know. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: What sort of irrigation did you have for your crops? Do you know?
Sparre: Well, the river was there. And somehow, my dad knew enough about old world irrigation. There was no ditches or anything, but he knew how to get the water from the river to the plants. I don't know how, but it's funny. A lot of those things were passed down from generation to generation that, nowadays, people just don't know. But he did know.
Bauman: So you mentioned your father working for the National Guard at Hanford. Was your family able to stay on their land?
Sparre: On our land. We were until--when they had the accident. Some radiation leaked and the cows ate the grass and got radiation. And it affected the milk. I guess it was a temporary thing. But it did affect a lot of us. It did not affect the two babies. And they were in the study that they did on the radiation because the babies had the mother's milk. But it affected all of us older ones except the one sister who was allergic to milk. She didn't have a thyroid problem, but the rest of us six did have a thyroid problem. And my dad then found out what was going on out there. He did not know. They didn't tell the people around what they were building. And so consequently, everybody was happy. And then when he found out and his two years were almost up with the National Guards, and they said you couldn't sell your property. But he sold it anyway. And we moved. And they didn't stop him.
Bauman: So what time frame was this that this accident happened?
Sparre: Well, this was probably 1941, '42, somewhere along—
Bauman: Before the war.
Sparre: When exactly the milk was contaminated was somewhere between '40 and '42. Maybe '43. You know, somewhere in that area. We moved away, I think, in February, in '43. So he was really pretty upset about that.
Bauman: You mentioned that almost all of you developed thyroid problems?
Sparre: Yes.
Bauman: When did that--
Sparre: Well, when you went through puberty, it came out. And nobody in the family had ever had a problem. Including my mother got it. And nobody had ever had that problem before in the family, you know? So, just naturally, everybody assumed it was--and being so close to Hanford, our cows probably got more than somebody further away. But, again, I was a child and they didn't tell me these things. But I was probably called Snoopy, because I was always sitting in the kitchen behind the stove where they couldn't see me and listening to all the adult conversations around the stairs. [LAUGHTER] So I was so curious about everything and every single night, I listened to the news. Gable Heater was on and we listened to the news. We had the blackouts. We had to make sure. And since Daddy found out, we made sure there wasn't a speck of light anywhere around our farmhouse. So it was quite a different world.
Bauman: So you had a radio and that's how--
Sparre: We did have radio. So we probably had electricity by that time. And since Hanford had electricity, they probably came out and put it in the places around.
Bauman: So about how old were you then when you moved away?
Sparre: When I moved away? Six. When the people starting to build Hanford came in, our little town of a couple hundred people suddenly became a quite big town of city people who were not always good like farmers. And they just invaded everything and there was a lot more crime suddenly. And the streets were crowded. And going to school, they had two sets of classes, early morning classes. And then you had to take all your books and everything and move all your stuff away because somebody else was going to use your desk in the afternoon. And I went to kindergarten but they put me in a year early because I was a pain to my mother. [LAUGHTER] I just was this little kid that thought I knew everything. I was not a good little kid. Anyway, she took me down to school when I was four and put me in kindergarten. [LAUGHTER] And they took me. Then when I went to first grade, there wasn't enough room in the classroom to have a desk, so they put a bunch of us good kids at a big table. Two sets of classes. There were so many people.
Bauman: So it was first grade when you started to see the growth in the number of students because of Hanford site?
Sparre: Well, I think more like in kindergarten; that was really there. Except most people didn't send their kids to kindergarten. You didn't have to. And most people didn't bother. And they were moving and all that. But my brothers and sisters didn't go to kindergarten. But she sent me to get rid of me. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: What other memories do you have of the school? Do you remember any teachers?
Sparre: Well, yeah. I remember--I was a teacher's pet, of course. [LAUGHTER] I do remember that. I do remember a note she sent home, could you try to teach Ilene to be a little neater? [LAUGHTER] But the teachers were overworked because they had to teach two full classrooms. I mean, it all happened so suddenly. And our little town didn't have that many teachers and there weren't that many. And the workers from Hanford came in, but of course, they didn't send teachers. They just--they didn't really--I don't know if they really realized how little we were--the little town was. We didn't have but a little co-op where we could get flour and sugar, you know, the basic staples, along with the cow food and the grain and things that we needed on the farm. And then suddenly, there wasn't enough food and they had to go bring in food from other towns and set up another store. And they were building, but there wasn't enough builders. And it was total confusion. And before Hanford came in, we knew everybody in town. But suddenly, Daddy didn't want to go shopping there anymore. He went to Prosser. It was equal distance to Prosser or Kennewick, so he just went to Prosser.
Bauman: I know you were very young, but do you remember any of the businesses or stores that were in Richland?
Sparre: Well, I remember where we got the food for the cattle and the flour. And my parents went to town only once a week and that was on Saturday afternoon. And just once a week. And then we started going to Prosser to get food. But outside of that, I don't think there was a library. There was a school. I think there was a post office, but it was all so little. Little tiny town. And there was a gas station. But I remember our church, that one Sunday it was closed because Hanford took over our church property. And so the next Sunday, the pastor spoke on the radio. And I recognized that voice. And it was the first time I'd ever heard a sermon--listened in church, really. And that's the day I accepted Jesus as my Savior. Because I listened, you know. And when he talked about being a sinner and needing to be saved from sin, I was such a bad little girl. I knew I needed a Savior. [LAUGHTER] So I did.
Bauman: So what church was that?
Sparre: That was the Assembly of God. He spoke on the radio and how we could get another property and build another church. But it was just, like, they didn't give us any choices, just was closed sign. And they didn't give us time or anything. It's just, okay, it's shut. But then everybody knew it was war and you did what--we all cooperated because we knew what was going on.
Bauman: Do you remember any special events when you were growing up? Picnics or--
Sparre: Well, yes. I remember there was always--in Richland Park, every summer, there was a story hour, where they told stories, and there was a picnic, and there was a little wading pool and we got to go swimming in the water. Of course, I was little. There was a little bathroom there. And one memory I have is I was only three or four, maybe not even four. But I went to the bathroom by myself and I looked for--oh I remembered how to spell woman. And the last three letters were M-E-N, and so I went in the men's. And there were men in there. I came out real fast! [LAUGHTER] And I said, this is supposed to be the women's. And the man said it to me, it says M-E-N. Women is W-O-M-E-N. Always look for W-O. Okay. So I found it. [LAUGHTER] I guess that's one of my memories of being at the park--in the Richland Park down there. And they had some kind of event down there every year when we took a picnic--that was before the war. And, again, Daddy didn't cooperate much with the town or the people after the war because there was so many people, and farmers kind of like [LAUGHTER] small crowds.
Bauman: Do you know if your father or mother belonged to any organizations in the community? The Grange or anything like that?
Sparre: No, we always went to the fairs. But we went to a church. That was the only time we were anywhere was church. Or if there was some reason the community was getting together for some cause or something. And then they'd notify people and we'd have a potluck and get together. I think they had some Richland Day--something once a year that they did that with. And people were sick or needed help, people would get together and do things. I do remember that. And outside of that, I don't remember much, except my dad used to play the fiddle and the violin and the banjo. So people came and, at least once a month, they played music all evening. I do remember that. But, you know, there weren't very many people in those days. [LAUGHTER] And everybody was coming from a long way. I mean, we didn't have a tractor. Nobody had a tractor around, anywhere around. You plowed with the horses, you know? The world was really different in the 1930s and early '40s.
Bauman: Did you have any specific chores as a little girl on the farm?
Sparre: Well, yes. We had to feed the calves--the baby calves. There was always, on a dairy, there's always baby calves. And we would make pets of them, and of course, every time they were slaughtered, we'd cry. [LAUGHTER] Because those were our pets. But we had to feed the baby ones. I was little, but still, I had to feed them whenever there was work to be done, you know? I mean, we had to participate. When I was little, I had to pick--I was only five, and I had to pick a box of cherries in the morning and a box of cherries in the afternoon. I was only five, you know? [LAUGHTER] And I didn't get my box in the afternoon finished, so my dad and everybody sat down under the tree and wouldn't go home till I finished my box. Ever after that, I worked first, played later. I mean, it's just amazing. Now, they don't want kids to work. But it was one of the best gifts our father gave us--was the ability to work and know that was a part of living. And he made it so much fun, you know? He participated with us. And I have a memory of a truckload of food coming--because we're such a big family--that during the war, they came to our house and dropped off four or five boxes of food. And my dad said no. And he picked up the boxes and put them back on the truck and said, we do not take handouts. We take care of our own. Give this to somebody who needs it. And even though we looked at those oranges and thought, whoa, that's nice. But that was a wonderful gift he gave us, because none of us were on welfare. And a big family, we all got an education. We all went to school. We took care of ourselves because he gave us the gift that we worked. We help others, but we don't need the help ourselves.
Bauman: So you mentioned--you talked about how this small little town changed quite a bit, obviously. Do you remember when you or your family first found out that something was going to be built not too far from your property?
Sparre: Well, my dad came home from town and he says there's rumble, you know? And, of course, he always listened to the radio in the morning and at noon and in the evening--with the news. And of course, we knew about Pearl Harbor. And we knew about the war before then, except we weren't involved. And then suddenly, we were involved. And then the government army and everything--trucks--started rumbling into town. And he knew it was something about that. And almost immediately, they came by and enlisted him in the National Guard, whether he wanted to or not. He was in. But you couldn't object because there was war. And then, of course, they started rationing the food. But we didn't have a problem because we were on the farm. We had our meat, our vegetables, our fruit. And the only thing we didn't have was sugar. Mother canned the fruit without sugar and then we each got like a 1/4 of a cup of sugar a month to last us. And if we used it all at once--and we hid it because my dad liked sugar in his coffee and he'd take a pinch out of each one so we wouldn't miss it. So we worked hard hiding our sugar. [LAUGHTER] And the first thing, I remembered getting up in the morning to go see if my sugar was still hid. [LAUGHTER] It was the consequences of war!
Bauman: So you did not have to move initially with the construction of Hanford?
Sparre: No. No, because we were out in the country. But we weren't far from Hanford, you know?
Bauman: Right. And then you did move. Where did you move to?
Sparre: Sunnyside. Daddy had studied the issue, and it was a consensus of opinions that if there was a fallout from Hanford, it would not reach Sunnyside. So it sounded like a good place to move to. And it was good farmland. He got a place in Sunnyside.
Bauman: Are there any other things--memories you have of the community of Richland or growing up on the farm that we haven't talked about yet?
Sparre: Well, it's hard. I can still see the school for a little school--very little school--and coming into town.
Bauman: Where was this school?
Sparre: Well, as you came into town, it was right up the hill. First thing you saw was the school. Wasn't very many students. Very little school. And of course, there were the Tri-Cities. The other towns were a little bit bigger, but Richland was always pretty small. It was a farm town.
Bauman: Do you remember any of your classmates, any of your friends at school?
Sparre: Well, I remember the Peterson boy next door. But after the war, he moved. The widow and her son moved. And that's all I remember of that. Mrs. Cherry was my teacher. I remember that because it sounded like cherry. [LAUGHTER] I'm sure it wasn't quite cherry, but that was as close as I got to it--the name.
Bauman: And did you walk to school? Did you take a bus?
Sparre: Oh, no. We took a bus. We took a bus. Yeah.
Bauman: And was this a regular school bus?
Sparre: It was a regular school bus. I can't remember that it was very big. But it was probably a smaller big school bus, you know. And it came on the--right down here was the canal. And then there was the highway. And down here was our property, which I remembered it being a mile down there, but it was, like, half a block. [LAUGHTER] But when you're four and you're walking up there to go to school, it was a long walk. I remember one day playing in the canal and mother told us not to because the water was coming in. And my brother, who was six years older, he suddenly grabbed us and, get out of there, get out of there, the water's coming! And it came in just as we got out of the canal. [LAUGHTER] I do remember that. But didn't seem like it was a long bus ride. And it doesn't seem like the bus was full.
Bauman: I know, again, that you were young still when you moved away, but, overall, what your thoughts about growing up in Richland, in that small town?
Sparre: Well, we loved where we were. I mean, down there in the water, my brothers built a raft and had a pole. And we went all around and fished and played in there. But there was quicksand there. And one day, Daddy's prize cow got caught in the quicksand and all the neighbors came. But before they could pull it out, it drowned. Think of us kids playing down there. [LAUGHTER] But we knew where the quicksand was so we didn't go over there. And my dad was an old-fashioned man. He was a very, very good. He never lost his temper. But if he said something and you disobeyed, he did have a razor strap. And he knew how to use it. But you didn't get beat on because you didn't get spanked more than once. That was it, which was very good. Reminds me of the verse in the Bible that says, children--fathers, don't make your children angry. Go ahead and spank them if they need it. [LAUGHTER] And that's a pretty good thing. Just to do it and get it good enough and then you won't have to do it again. And that's what my father did. So we just obeyed him. And then he was so kind, very kind. So we had a great home life, you know? And he played music. And as we grew up, all of us had to play instruments. And can you imagine? He made us practice an hour a day. And all of us played different instruments. It's bad enough listening to my girls practice the piano. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And what instrument did you play?
Sparre: What? I played the oboe and the clarinet and the piano. Except, I really don't make music. I'm really not musical. But I played because that's what we did in our house, you know? But we had so much fun growing up in Richland. It was not that much fun in Sunnyside, because we were pretty close to town. There were people all around. And they had rules and regulations that we weren't accustomed to. Mother put us in pants and shorts to play in in Richland, and the town people in Sunnyside objected to that. [LAUGHTER] So we couldn't wear them! [LAUGHTER] I mean, it was just so different than living out in the country. Mother always had Sunday dinner and people were always over Richland. I don't remember if there were always relatives but it seems like a lot of them were friends and who they were, I don't remember.
Bauman: Your father sold your farm. Is that farm still operational today?
Sparre: Well, there's a nice house down there, you know, but what’s on it--there's quite a few houses down in that section. We walked to the back of the farm and we could fish in the--I think it was the Yakima River. And I remember catching a fish there when I was probably five. I was the only one that caught a fish that day. I remember that. [LAUGHTER] But there were so many things to do and to be inventive and play, which was really good for us. But it was just different when we moved where there were people.
Bauman: Do you know if your parents felt similarly about leaving Richland, if they were sort of disappointed that they had--
Sparre: Well, they both really wanted out. Mother knew that my father couldn't continue to guard and run a dairy. It couldn't continue to do that. He was exhausted. And yet that didn't seem to register. They didn't care. I'm sure it wasn't that they didn't care, but I'm sure the army officers had their own way of thinking and there was a crisis. It was just really hard. And so they were both very thankful to move.
Bauman: Well, I think I've asked all the questions I have. Do you have anything else you want to add?
Sparre: You know, I'd take a look at my list and I probably have mentioned--oh, this is the wrong one. But I think I pretty much covered everything that I can think of.
Bauman: Great. Well, I want to thank you very much for coming in today, Ilene. Appreciate it.
Sparre: Yeah, I wish I could remember more. [LAUGHTER] I think it's neat that you're doing this. And thank you for asking me.
Bauman: Well, thanks for coming in. Appreciate it.
Northwest Public Television | Johnson_Norman
Robert Bauman: All right, is that all right?
Camera man: Yeah.
Bauman: Okay. All right, we can go ahead and get started.
Norman Johnson: Okay.
Bauman: And if we could start first by maybe having you say your name and spell your name for us?
Johnson: It's Norman Neil Johnson. J-O-H-N-S-O-N.
Bauman: Great. And my name's Robert Bauman. We're conducting this oral history interview on November 5 of 2013. And we're doing this interview on the campus of Washington University Tri-Cities. So let's start maybe by having you talk about your family, first, and what you know about when they came to the area here.
Johnson: My grandparents--I can remember my grandpa telling me--he came out here in 1910 and bought land. And then he moved back to Idaho. He was working in the sawmills in Idaho. And then he come back in 1918 and brought my grandmother and my aunt and my mother back. And they started farming in 1918.
Bauman: And his name was?
Johnson: Pete Hanson.
Bauman: Pete Hanson. Do you know why this area, why Richland? What brought him here? Just the availability of land?
Johnson: I know he had a brother that owned the farm. And they bought the farm right next to him. And then his brother died before I was born. His oldest daughter was who farmed it after I was born. I don't know why they came here. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And how old would your mother have been in 1918 when they--
Johnson: Four years old.
Bauman: Four years old. So she grew up here.
Johnson: Yeah, I was one in Lady Lourdes Hospital in Pasco in 1936. The only hospital here.
Bauman: Okay. And what about your father, then?
Johnson: I think he was from Republic, Washington. Somewhere over there, because--I was so young when he died, that I never really knew much about him. And I didn't think to ask his brothers or sisters about him.
Bauman: But did he live in the area too, you and is that how your parents met?
Johnson: Yeah, mm-hm, yep. He had an older sister that lived here, too. Their name was Perkins. There was quite a few of them.
Bauman: Mm-hm. And you were born in what year?
Johnson: 1936.
Bauman: 1936. And your family had a farm?
Johnson: Yes.
Bauman: And what sort of crops?
Johnson: All I can remember is asparagus and strawberries and alfalfa for their livestock. That's all I can remember. I don’t know, my grandpa said that the only people that made any money out their farming and amount to anything was the ones that had orchards. And asked him how come he didn't plant trees, and he said he couldn't afford to buy any. So I guess he never made a lot of money. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And do you know about how large the farm was?
Johnson: He had 17 acres and then he farmed my mother's 10 acres, so he had 27 acres all together.
Bauman: And do you remember any other buildings on the property? A barn, storage buildings?
Johnson: Yeah, we had--there was a storage building right behind our house. It was maybe 40 feet from the rear of our house. We always called it the other house, and I think it had been actually a residence of somebody's at one time. But I don't know when.
Bauman: Okay. And do you know roughly where the farm was?
Johnson: As I recall it was about five miles from downtown Richland. And it must have been at least a mile off from the river.
Bauman: And did you have electricity on the farm?
Johnson: We got electricity just before I was born, but my cousins that live next to us they never did. They didn't get electricity. But we had it just before I was born, I guess.
Bauman: What about telephone?
Johnson: Nope. No, we didn't have any of that.
Bauman: And how about irrigation?
Johnson: We had irrigation water, yes.
Bauman: Do you know how that was--what sort of--
Johnson: It's real irrigated, is what they did. They had a concrete pipe that run at the head of the field. And it had little holes in it. And then they had cedar plugs that they put in it. And when they wanted the water rail, they took that plug out, and away it went.
Bauman: Do you remember who your nearest neighbors were?
Johnson: Well the Brewers were the closest. They was the ones that was my mother's cousin.
Bauman: So what do you remember about the area from the time you were growing up here?
Johnson: Not a whole lot. I remember a few things. I remember when they shut our water off. They shut all our irrigation water off. The government did. And so we couldn't irrigate anything, so my grandfather went to work. As I recall it was up in big Pasco for somebody--when they were building the warehouses over there. And just me and my grandmother there. And my mother working at the post office. The government brought some prisoner of war out there, and just left them. Know what they did, they had them doing something out there. I remember my grandmother was really worried about the Italians, is what they were. And that would have been in like '43 or '44. Something like that.
Bauman: Okay. So did you go to school in Richland?
Johnson: I went to the first and second grade. First grade we went all day. But the second grade, the population had grown so much that we had two shifts, and I had the afternoon shift. And that was only time I went to school in Richland, was the first and second grade.
Bauman: Okay. So was second grade like 1943, '44, or something?
Johnson: Yeah, it must have been the '43, '44 year, yeah.
Bauman: Do you remember anything about the school itself? The building or any of the teachers?
Johnson: Yeah, seemed like it was over there where Lewis and Clark is now, I think. It was the only school there. Seems to me like it was a long building on one end, as you started at--it would've been the north end--the first grades, and then as you walked farther the other away the grades went up. I don't know how far they went. It might have been high school on the other end. I don't know. But I know I had cousins that went on the other end, and they were like five and seven years older than me. And they went up in the other end of the building.
Bauman: And how did you get to school? Was there a school bus?
Johnson: Yeah, a school bus.
Bauman: Was it a fairly standard sort of the school bus? Or what would you think of the school bus now?
Johnson: Well, probably not as good school buses now, I don't imagine. No, no, nothing like that. But I don't remember what they were like.
Bauman: Okay. So you went there, you said first and second grade. And what happened then, after second grade?
Johnson: Well that was when my grandfather was building a house in his spare time over in Kennewick--500 block on Rainier. And when he got it done, that summer of '44 we moved over there. I think that we went back to the farm one time, just to look at it. And remember my grandfather telling me he wanted to buy the building, the house, and move it to Kennewick, and they wouldn't sell it to him. He was not happy about that, either. What they did with it, I don't know.
Bauman: So you were able to stay in the house into 1944?
Johnson: Yeah.
Bauman: But then you had to leave?
Johnson: Well, we did. I don't know if they were actually forced to leave at that time. But we did. When my grandfather got the house finished in Kennewick, we moved over there.
Bauman: And do you remember when the government started sort of moving in? Do you have memories from that period?
Johnson: At the time before they moved in my mother was working for the irrigation department, for Mr. Fletcher, I think he run the irrigation department. And she said they had heard something was going on-- something was going to come here, and they didn't know what. And I imagine that would have been in probably '41 or '42. And of course that job went away when they shut the water off, so she went to work for the postal department in Richland.
Bauman: Oh, okay. But you don't know if your mother or grandparents ever got a notice saying you have to leave by a certain time?
Johnson: I think did, yeah. I don't know if they ever said right out that you had to leave at a certain time. But they were condemning our property, is what they called it. They were all farms. They shut the water off, there was no reason to stay there anymore. Because it's pretty arid out there.
Bauman: Do you have any memories of the--I know you lived outside of town itself, but did you go down very often? Do you have any memories of the town itself?
Johnson: Yeah, I used to go in with my grandfather and get groceries. And he had a '36 Ford pickup, and he'd let me sit on his lap and steer. I was about five years old, I guess. I can remember him going--there was one tavern there. I can remember him going in there, and I could go in with him, but I had to sit way in the back. They had a bench back there in the back, and I sat back there and waited for him. And we'd go to get groceries at John Dam's Grocery Store. He had a partner, too, but I don't remember what his name was. That's about all I can remember about the downtown.
Bauman: Do you remember any other institutions, any other churches or anything along those lines?
Johnson: No, I don't.
Bauman: Okay. How about any community events? Do you remember any special occasion?
Johnson: The only thing I can remember is, they used to have--farmers have something called a chivaree. And I don't know if all that was when people were getting married or something of that nature, I guess. That's all I can remember about that. Wasn't too lively around here, then.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] So can you tell me a little more about your family then? And you said in 1944 then, your grandfather bought a place in Kennewick
Johnson: Yeah. There was a guy named--another Richland farmer--his last name was Murray. One of them was Brainerd and the other one was Audemar. No, Brainerd and I can't remember the other one. But I don't know if Brainerd was the son or the father. But they bought about, oh, all the way from Fourth Avenue up in Kennewick up to about what would have been Seventh Avenue right now. He bought that whole thing. And people from Richland started buying. I know there was--the Ericksons bought land there, and the Northings bought land there, the Samses bought land there. And there might have been a couple more, but there was a lot of Richland people bought five and ten acres. I know my grandpa bought five. And the bottom part of his went halfway from Rainier halfway to Vancouver—no, Olympia, through Olympia. And then John Erickson bought the land. And then just south of us the Northings bought the next whole ten acres there. Oh, there was quite a few Richland people there.
Bauman: I want to ask then, growing up you said there wasn't a whole lot going on in Richland.
Johnson: [LAUGHTER] No, not that I knew of.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Yeah, as a young child, obviously. What sorts of things did you do for fun or for entertainment? Did you go swimming in the river, or did you do hunting, fishing sorts of things?
Johnson: Well, when I was little, we get a little irrigation ditch that run through our place. We called it the lateral, come off the big ditch. And it was probably maybe a foot and a half deep. Me and my cousin used to go play in that all time. I was interested in rocks, and my grandma used to take me out there in the desert and we'd hunt for pretty rocks. And there was an awful lot of sand. I remember, when the wind would blow there you didn't have dust storms you have sandstorms. And that hurt when we were out in that. In fact, a lot of our cars got the windows pitted from the sand. I can remember big sand dunes out there. And I used to go out there with my cousins once in a while. Like I say, there wasn't a whole lot going on. I was too young to do any sports or anything. I can remember my cousin that was seven years older than me. Brewer, Max Brewer. He'd go hunting out there. And one exciting thing I remember, he was hunting with Verne McGan, I think it was. And his gun went off and hit Verne in the shoulder. That was a big, exciting thing. [LAUGHTER] It was a .22 so it didn't do a whole lot of damage. But still, pretty exciting. Oh, and I remember one thing, too. After the Navy put that base in Pasco, they had those trainers. Planes, training pilots, they were yellow, and they were double-wing--one over the top of the other. And they had two open cockpits in them, is what they were. And they used to come down so low that my dog would get up on a haystack and bark at them, they'd come in so low. And two of them crashed out there between us and Brewers’ one time. One of them crashed, and the other one tried to land in the sagebrush. And he couldn’t land one of those in the sagebrush, so. There's parts all over out there. And I heard some of the farmer used to shoot at them with shotguns. They'd come down so low they'd go underneath the telephone wires.
Bauman: Wow.
Johnson: So it's just a bunch of young guys learning to fly. But they were over there all the time.
Bauman: So did that start like in '42 or '43?
Johnson: '43 probably.
Bauman: Did you ever talk with your mom or your grandparents later about leaving, and what their perspective was on that?
Johnson: Well, they weren't real happy about it, like I said. Most of the farmers were really unhappy about it. My grandfather, he was from Norway, so he just thought that was the way things went. He went to work for some company who was building Big Pasco over there. And then in 1947, he went to work for DuPont. And I think he only worked for DuPont for about six months, then DuPont left and General Electric took over. And he thought that was great. Best job he ever had, he said. He was a teamster. He drove from central stores to 300 Area. He delivered the things that were ordered for the 300 Area from central stores.
Bauman: Do you know how long he did that?
Johnson: Until he retired. In those days, when you turn 65, you could work until the end of that month, and then you couldn't work there any longer. So he retired in '53, October of '53. He was not happy about that, either. He didn't want to retire. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Did anyone else from your family work at Hanford at all?
Johnson: Yeah. My mother's cousin's husband, Lawrence Brewer, worked out there. And let's see, who else did? Must be somebody else, but I can't remember who they are. Oh, yeah, they were neighbors, I remember some neighbors that worked out there. And I think you said you talked to one of them. Gordon Kaas, or Norman Kaas.
Bauman: Gordon Kaas.
Johnson: Yeah, he worked out there. I don't think Norman did.
Bauman: Right, Gordon did. That's right. You said your grandfather enjoyed the job working out there, right? Did it seem strange at all, working at the place where you used to have a farm?
Johnson: No, not to him. He thought General Electric was a fabulous place to work. Because he was from Norway and he'd worked in real hard jobs. Sawmill, and stuff like that. This is just driving a truck from central stores to 300 Area, and he thought it was great.
Bauman: Now have you or any of your family members had a chance to go back at some point later and see the place at all?
Johnson: Our place?
Bauman: Yeah.
Johnson: No. Well, my sister's oldest daughter got to go out there to our old farm one time. I talked to her the other day and said I'd like to go out there. And she said she’d try and get ahold of somebody. But I don't think she has. But they never lived out there. I'm the only one left alive in our family that lived out there on either one of those farms. My cousin just died, last summer. She was five years older than me. So here and I were the last ones, and it's just me now.
Bauman: And who was your cousin?
Johnson: Donna Bowder. And they lived over there up in Meadow Springs.
Bauman: Why do you think it's important for us to do this sort of thing? For us to get the stories of people who used live--
Johnson: Anything history is worth keeping, I think. We shouldn't lose our history on anything, I don't think. There should be a lot of people left, descendants of the people that came out here. I'm sure they would like to know what their grandparents did. I think it's very interesting, really.
Bauman: Were there any special memories that you have from--and I know you were very young when you moved away to Kennewick--Were there any special memories you have from the time you did live on the farm in Richland that sort of stand out to you that you haven't mentioned yet?
Johnson: Well, I can remember my cousin, the one that just died, her and I used to have to pick a row of strawberries. And then my grandma would let us go play in the irrigation ditch. And that was a big deal for me. Let's see, I was about five years old at that point.
Bauman: That was your reward?
Johnson: Yeah. [LAUGHTER] Yeah, yeah.
Bauman: I was going to ask you, did you have any certain chores or things that you had to do to help out?
Johnson: Yeah, I had a little car, a pedal car, but it was pretty hard to pedal in the sand. [LAUGHTER] And I can remember having electric trains, like that. One thing I remember about the house was the front room was real long. In those days we didn't have carpet, we had linoleum. And I had a little dog, a fox terrier, and I'd throw that ball in that front room, and he'd just chase it, and he'd just spin. And then he couldn't stop and he'd smack right into the wall. [LAUGHTER] So I had a lot of fun with that.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Yeah. I guess the dog kept doing it, so he must have been having fun too.
Johnson: Oh, he did.
Bauman: Anything else that I haven’t asked you about? Or anything else that sort of stands out, either your own memory, or maybe if you have any stories that your mother told or your grandparents told you.
Bauman: Yeah, my grandpa used to tell me stories all time. He said they used to have down in the Columbia River—of course was it was a lot swifter than it is now because the McNary Dam wasn’t there. They had what they called a boom out there. It was a big log that was long, that was out there and it would catch all the driftwood. And they'd go down there for firewood, I guess is what they’d use it for. And he said he went down one time and they were netting salmon. And he said he come back with a whole backseat full of salmon in his old car. And he said they use to catch sturgeon down there about 12 feet long. And they'd hook the line onto a team of horses and drag them out of the river. That's a big fish. 12 feet long sturgeon.
Bauman: Yeah.
Johnson: That's about all, he never said too much about anything, he just farmed, that's all he did. Never had no hobbies or anything, just farm.
Bauman: Mm-hm. So if someone was to ask you what it was like growing up, at least part of your youth in Richland, what the town was like--
Johnson: Very small. Very small. Wasn't nothing there, really. And I've had people say, tell me, well I didn't think there was a Richland before the Hanford project. And I said, sure was, because I lived there. I don't know if they believe me or not. I can remember going to town with my grandfather. And I remember when the strawberries would come on, I used to eat until I'd get sick. Things like, I remember one time--my mother used to take me to the movies on Sundays. And we'd go over to Pasco, the Liberty Theater in Pasco. There was only two theaters here, the Roxy Theater in Kennewick and the Liberty Theater in Pasco. And we went to the Liberty Theater one time--that was before the government come in--and it was on a Sunday and we come home, and there was--They were picking feathers out of ducks. And there my cousin, Max Brewer, he'd went up was hunting and he'd run into a bunch of ducks that were sitting on what little water was left in the irrigation ditch. And he shot into the bunch of them, got about 12 of them with one shot. So we were smelling pretty bad in there. Duck feathers, when they get wet, smell a little bad. [LAUGHTER] That's one of the things I remember. Kind of stands out in my memory. But I lose a lot from being that young. I forget a lot of things that happened. It was nice living on a farm. Really, when I was a kid. I don't know if I would have liked it when I got to be a teenager or not. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So have you sort of stayed in the area then, most of your life?
Johnson: Yeah, yup.
Bauman: Moved to Kennewick.
Johnson: I went to work for General Electric when I was 18. 1955. And retired from Westinghouse in '94. Worked for four different companies there while I was working.
Bauman: And so when you start working for GE, what sort of work were you doing?
Johnson: I was only--when I was 18, you couldn't really get too much. The job I was working in a printing shop in the 700 Area. And then later I got a job with the Richland Fire Department for two years. At that No. 1 station on George Washington Way. And then when the city took over in '59, I thought I'd be better off staying with General Electric than the city. So I got a job as an operator out at 100-D Area. And I worked there until they shut DR down, which is the other reactor at D Area. And they sent me to H Area, and I worked there until they shut it down. And I worked-- then they sent me to F Area. And I worked there until they shut it down. Then there was an old powerhouse in town that supplied steam to the Desert Inn and all the schools and everything. And I worked in there until the Federal Building was built, then they shut off all the steam. Then I got laid off from General Electric, and it was just awful. They were leaving then. They left, and then the only thing here that was General Electric was N Area for a while. And a company called Douglas United Nuclear come in and took over the 100 Areas. And I had been off work about three weeks, and they called me up and wanted to know if I wanted to come work for them, which I did. So I went out to B Area.
Bauman: B Area, is that what you said?
Johnson: B Area.
Bauman: Okay.
Johnson: And then I come into town and I worked in the 300 Area. And then when they shut B Area down, I put in an application--I was down low on the seniority list--so I put in an application in with Battelle. And they offered me a job in I think it was June of '67. So I quit United Nuclear to work with Battelle. And then when Battelle--Westinghouse came in in 1970. The building I was working in, and my manager was going through Westinghouse so I had a choice, I went to Westinghouse too. And I worked for them from 1970 to '94. In the 300 Area.
Bauman: Wow. Hm. So altogether almost 30 years.
Johnson: I was there 39. A little over 39 years.
Bauman: Right, right almost 40 years, right. So you worked at D Reactor, you said?
Johnson: I worked in water department.
Bauman: Oh, the water department, okay. And so what sorts of jobs or tasks did you have there?
Johnson: Well, there was a lot of jobs in pump rooms. I worked on the filter plant. And what we did, we pumped the water out of the river and up to the 183 building, which was a filter plant. And then we treated it with some stuff that I can't remember the names of. And then we filtered it and sent it down to 190 buildings, which had all the--They had eight synchronous electric pumps in there. And they'd pump the water from there through the reactor to cool the reactor. Now remember I was on just shift work with 22 operators on each shift at that point. And then there was a few on day shift to relieve people. A lot of people out there then. The department I was in had over 500 employees when I went to work. The Power Department, they'd call it. And when I retired it was about 150 of us, I think.
Bauman: Wow. I assume you needed to have security clearance of some sort?
Johnson: Yeah, I had Q clearance most of the time, yes.
Bauman: Were you ever working in jobs where you had to wear special protective equipment for the possibility of exposure or radiation?
Johnson: Yeah, the last 15 years out there I went to what they called air balance. We did in-place testing of the heat for filters that filtered the air before it was released to the atmosphere. And I got into some pretty hot things a few times. Changed the set of filters in the 324 Building one time, and it was 350R. They were doing some work in one of the cells for the German government. And they got real crapped out.
Bauman: Hm. Roughly what time period would this have been?
Johnson: That would have been in probably '86. Probably something like that.
Bauman: Oh, okay, okay. And so you have to have dosimeter? Something along those lines?
Johnson: Yeah. We had to have rings on for it. And I had two dosimeters, one in each front pocket. Had two pair of coveralls on, and shoe covers, and then boots over that. Then you had a skull cap on and a hood over that. And then you had assault mask that covered your whole face. You had two pair of gloves--you put surgical gloves on and then canner gloves on. And these were all taped to your outer pair of coveralls. And then they went around and taped everything that was showing. So there was no skin showing.
Bauman: Mm-hm. So, like, how long of a period of time could you do that work before you had to come out in terms of--
Johnson: You mean for exposure?
Bauman: Exposure, yeah.
Johnson: I never was in there where I had to come out for overexposure. They tried to keep it as low as you could get. And so it wasn't that bad. The only time that there was ever any much exposure was when we were testing some of the filters. Some of them would have hot places. Or when we were changing filters. They had the millwrights or the fitters come in and change them, and we had to be there to test them. And that was the only real hot thing I was around. One time I remember in 325 Building, we were in a hot room in the basement. And we had to take these caps off of the duct-work to inject the smoke in there. And when the guy was taking it off, it just all of a sudden, it felt like it was heavy. It fell down and this, it looked like gunpowder, went all over everything. So we spent a whole day in the whole-body counter downtown after that. So that wasn't no fun. [LAUGHTER] But nobody got anything. I didn't get anything. They just wanted to make sure that we didn't get anything. Because that stuff that come out was pretty hot, I guess.
Bauman: I imagine safety pretty strongly emphasize at Hanford, in terms of procedures?
Johnson: Oh, yeah. Especially got, towards the end that I was there, procedure compliance was the main thing. If you didn't follow procedures, some people lost their jobs because of that. And I remember one time, I usually run the machine that detected how bad the filters were leaking, and we got some new ones in. The old ones had just push buttons on them, and the new ones had toggle switches. And we were going to do a job one time, and they had only wrote a procedure for one of them. The push buttons, not the toggle switches. So we had to quit. We couldn't finish the job. Which I thought was really stupid. What difference does it make whether you push a button or flip a toggle switch? But they had to write another procedure for it. So that got kind of irritating. It was hard to get used to that. Where you used to go in there and get a job done, and after the procedure compliance came along, couldn't do that. Took three times as long to do a job.
Bauman: Obviously when you started in 1955, focus was on production, and by the time you retired, definitely the focus was on cleanup. I wonder if that shift, how you saw that, impacted your work, maybe?
Johnson: We lost a lot of work on the job that I had, the air balance job. Some of our main buildings, not just the 300. We took the 300 Area and 400 Area. And the 300 Area in 1987, I think it was, we transferred a lot of our buildings to Battelle, for some reason. I don't know what the reason was for that. And so we lost our job. Well, didn't get as much radiation exposure after that. They work-ordered me to Battelle for a while. And Battelle wanted to keep on doing that, and Westinghouse wouldn’t let them do it. But I had a chance--I could have transferred from Westinghouse to Battelle when they did that. If I had been 10 years younger, I probably would have done it. But I was up around 50 years old then. So that was the biggest change we had. And then the problem was, these buildings were scheduled to be tore down in the 300 Area. And if we would suggest that they do something, they'd say, no, we're not going to spend that kind of money on this building because we're going to tear it down in a couple years. It got kind of frustrating. I was glad to get out of there then. Things were changing, and I was too old to change with it. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: President Kennedy visited the site in '63 to, I believe, the N Reactor. Were you here? Did you happen to be on site at the day?
Johnson: I was here, but I was working graveyard, and I didn't feel like staying up that long to go see him.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] That make sense.
Johnson: [LAUGHTER Yeah.
Bauman: Were there any significant incidents, events sort of things that stand out in your mind from your years working at Hanford, that you remember?
Johnson: Well, when I worked on fire department, I was the youngest guy there. Actually I was 20 years old when I went to work on the fire department. And I used to have to ride the back of that truck. And when you'd have a fire—and we had a lot of false alarms, these kids would pull them pull-boxes all over town-- but you had to respond just like it was a real fire. And a lot of them we'd get was at the Bomber Bowl, you know, after a football game. But you'd be in bed, asleep, in the winter time. And then all of the sudden all the lights would come on and those bells will go bong, bong, like that. And you're just in a fog up out of there. And then you hit that cold air out there and it was a real shock. In fact I talked to a guy that works on the Seattle Fire Department, and I told him. He said, oh, they wouldn't let you do that no more. They don't let you ride the back of that truck. He asked me if we were tied on. I said no, we hung on pretty hard, though. You just had to, back there. But it was a good place to work. I really did like it. Before I retired it was not near as good. Because I was one of the youngest guys out there in my department. And most of the other older guys that I've worked with had either died or retired. So it wasn't the same.
Bauman: What--of the different jobs you had at Hanford, different parts of the site that you worked, was there a job that you found the most rewarding? That you enjoyed the most, or one maybe that you found the most challenging?
Johnson: The last one I had, the air balance job was. There was a lot of math in it, you had to figure out air flows, and you had take air flows. We had to test--they had open-faced hoods in there. And we had to check them--I think we checked them once a month to make sure the flow was up to standard. And I know one of the guys who was vice president out there when he retired. He used to see us, he'd stop and tell us that what you're doing is more important than any other job out here. You're keeping people safe, he said. I really appreciated that, that the vice president would notice us. But that was the best. I thought that was the most challenging job I had out there. You had to use your brain a little bit, and all that stuff.
Bauman: You started to talk about this a little bit, maybe I'll ask you to talk about it a little more. So how was Hanford as a place to work? What overall are your impressions of your almost 40 years working there?
Johnson: I thought it was really a fairly safe place to work, really. As far as the jobs I had, they were real careful about everything. I know my uncle took me through a plywood plant in Longview one time. The safety wasn't near as good there as it was on Hanford. It was easy to see that. It was a good job, really. As it went on you had to go through more things. They're always sending you to a class that didn't help you a bit, I didn't think. [LAUGHTER] But it was a good place to work.
Bauman: I teach a class on the Cold War, and the of course, a number of the students that I have in my class were born after the Cold War ended. And so have no memories at all of the Cold War. Of course you were working at Hanford-- much of time you were working at Hanford was during the Cold War. So I wonder for young people today or future generations, how would you describe working at Hanford during this period of the Cold War, explain to them what that was like?
Johnson: Well, it was-- I don't know how you would say it. It's a good place to work. They take real good care of you up there, I thought they did. The only thing I didn't like about it was shift work. I didn’t care for that. [LAUGHTER] My wife used to tell when I was coming towards the end of graveyard, she'd say well you're getting to be halfway decent to live with again. We changed shifts. We didn't work one straight shift. You work a week of swing, and a week of graveyard, and a week of days. Terrible shift. Anything would have been better than that. But I would say, if you don't mind shift work, it was great. Because I was lucky I ended up, when I went to work at Battelle I got day shift most of the time. But they were good people to work for. Pretty honest, people were out there. They all had Q Clearances, and so they had to be pretty reputable people to work there. So that was nice to work with people you trust and depend on. And it was all around a good place to work for me. I'm not sure how it is now. But I have a relatives out there now. Quite a few of them.
Bauman: Is there anything I haven't asked you about in terms of your work at Hanford? Or anything you haven't had a chance to talk about yet, but you'd like to talk about?
Johnson: I can't think of any now, I probably will when I get home. [LAUGHTER] I can't think of it now. [LAUGHTER] Some stuff comes back to me every once in a while that I don't think of all the time. There's a lot of funny things that happened out there. I remember one time the guys at my supervisor on graveyard, they'd always go dump their garbage out of their office. And it was still dark out, and he dumped it and a raccoon come out. About scared him to death, I guess [LAUGHTER] I remember one time they had to knock the reactor down when raccoons got in there where the transformers were. And he jumped from one to the other one, well it zapped him right in midair. So it knocked the reactor down. So there was a few funny things that did happen.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you very much for coming in today and sharing your memories, both about your childhood in Richland and also your years working at Hanford. I appreciate it.
Johnson: Okay, thank you.
Northwest Public Television | Stratton_Monte
Camera man: Okay. I say we record.
Robert Bauman: Yep. All right. All right, let's go ahead and get started. Get some of the official stuff out of the way first. My name's Robert Bauman, and I'm conducting an oral history interview with Mr. Monte Stratton. And today's date is July 16 of 2013. Our interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. I’ll be talking with Mr. Stratton about his experiences working at the Hanford site. So first of all, thank you for coming in and letting us talk to you today.
Monte Stratton: Well, first off, you can call me Monte. I like to go by my--
Bauman: Will do.
Stratton: --nickname.
Bauman: All right. Well, Monte, I wonder if you could start by just telling us how and why you came to the Hanford site and when you came here.
Stratton: Well, going back to the early days of my working career, I was at an ammunition plant in Kings Mills, Ohio. This would have been in 1943. And at that time, the war was in its heyday and actually beginning to wind down to some extent. And I had been given a deferment up to that point, because I was at an ammunition plant. But they needed some personnel here at the Hanford site which was being built, and I was interviewed by the person who eventually became the plant manager to start with. That would have been Walt Simon. They were looking for people that had backgrounds similar to mine. I was an amateur radio operator and had some electronic experience. I'm an electrical engineer by profession, and they needed someone with that background for the instrument field. So as I said, I was interviewed and accepted the offer. I came to the Hanford site in February of 1944, and that's when I got started here at Hanford.
Bauman: And what was your very first impressions of the place when you arrived?
Stratton: A long ways from home. [LAUGHTER] I don't recall any particular impressions. I know that I arrived in the wee hours of the morning, came in by train into Pasco. And were met by plant personnel who escorted me over to Richland, and I was given a room in the—trying to recall what—the hotel that was originally in Richland. And I spent a week there and then I was given a room in the last men's dormitory that was built. This was K8. But my first impressions of this place were so different from the East Coast, where I'd grown up. So it took me a while to get used to it. But I soon learned to survive.
Bauman: And so you stayed—you were living in a dorm, a men's dorm at the time then. Could you describe that, like--
Stratton: For--
Bauman: --the size of it, or anything along those lines?
Stratton: There were eight men's dorms here in Richland. And there was a two-story building. I don't think any of them are still around, but they used some of them for facilities afterwards. I was on the second floor, and it was--I don't remember too much about any particulars of the dormitory. At this point, I might mention something about the dust storms that were prevalent in those days. They were called termination winds, and I recall one day I was laying across my bed. This was probably a Sunday afternoon, just resting, left the window open, and one of those termination wind dust storms came up. And when I woke up, I was covered with dust. [LAUGHTER] That was one experience that I had in the early days. Another experience that I had while I was there in the dormitory, and this relates to security—in those days security was very prevalent. There were a lot of security agents assigned here as everybody knows. And one afternoon once again I was laying across my bed and I got this strong knock at the door. When I opened the door the person walked right past me and came over to a radio receiver that I had on the table. And this receiver had a send/receive switch on the front. And he says, we have to put a seal on that. This happened to be the receiver that I'd brought out with me. Being an amateur radio operator, I brought my receiver along. We were taken off the air, of course, during the wartime, but I had my receiver just to listen to whatever was of interest. Well, I had a hard time explaining to this security person that this switch on the front of this receiver did not do any transmitting. That's what he wanted to make sure, that there was no transmitting involved. So I opened it up and let him look in and explained as best I could. Actually, the switch only controlled some external device if you wanted to hook it. But I managed to get past that one.
Bauman: And how long did you live in the dorms then?
Stratton: About one year. As I recall, I was in the dormitory for approximately one year. During that period, I met the person that I ended up marrying. And when I married this person, I moved from the dorm into a house that had been assigned us.
Bauman: And where was the house?
Stratton: The house was a duplex, a B-type house located on Judson Avenue in Richland. And we ended up having two children and we moved out of that B house to where we're presently living, which is an H-type house, [INAUDIBLE].
Bauman: And how did you and your wife meet? Was she working there as well?
Stratton: Oh, now you've asked a nice question. [LAUGHTER] It just so happens that I had a crew of people maintaining doing repair work on some of the instrumentation which I was assigned to. We had a shop in Richland, and one of my personnel was this girl that I became acquainted with affectionately and ended up marrying her. She was one of my, actually one of my workers.
Bauman: And where had she come from to work Hanford?
Stratton: She had come from Denver Ordnance Plant in Denver under similar circumstances that I came. At that time—this is a matter of interest—ammunition plants in different parts of the country had stockpiled their ammunition to the point where they were slowing down. A lot of the plants were either closing or slowing their operations. And the girl that I married had been working at one of the ammunition plants, and she was transferred here to the Hanford plant under very similar circumstances that I was.
Bauman: So, let's talk about the work you did then at Hanford when you first arrived. Could you describe the sort of work activities you were involved in?
Stratton: Well, when I first got here, I was assigned to a shop activity in the 300 Area. It was an instrument shop. And they were maintaining instruments that were being used throughout the project. And after that latter part of 1944, I was transferred to a new shop that had just been built in the 700 Area, an instrument shop. And that's where we were maintaining instruments that were being used throughout the project.
Bauman: Okay. And how long did you end up working at Hanford, and what other sorts of jobs did you have?
Stratton: Oh, I worked at Hanford here until I retired in 1982. I worked in all the different areas, starting at the 300 Area, then to the 700 Area. I was sent out to F Area at the startup of that reactor. And then came back to the 700 Area and was there for several years, and finally was sent out to the B Reactor. The B Reactor started up and operated for a short period of time. Then it was shut down—I don't recall for how long—a year or so maybe. And I was sent out to the B Reactor about that time--or was at B reactor about the time that it started up on its second run of operation.
Bauman: And about when would that have been?
Stratton: I'm guessing, and I was looking at my notes the other day, trying to figure out exactly when that would have been, but I'm guessing around 1949. I could be wrong on that date, but that's approximately.
Bauman: And what was your jobs at B Reactor when you were there?
Stratton: To start with I was actually a mechanic doing maintenance activity. But after being there for a while, I was elevated to a supervisor again. And I worked in B Reactor and several of the other reactors over the years. I went to the K Reactors when they were just being built and followed those from ground up, spent about roughly ten years, either as a supervisor or in maintenance engineering at the K Reactors.
Bauman: So you worked at several different areas then on the site.
Stratton: I did. I sure did. After the K Reactor started slowing down and—I'm trying to recall the date. I think it was 1972 when my work in the K Reactors had gotten to the point where I was no longer needed there. And so I came to the 200 Areas and spent another ten years there in field engineering.
Bauman: So could you maybe explain a little more, what would field engineering entail? Like, what sort of things might you typically do on a work day when you were working in the 200 Areas?
Stratton: Well, for instance in the K Areas, it would be going out and checking on the operation of the equipment, seeing that it's functioning properly and making repairs if they were minor, or otherwise I'd call a mechanic to come and do the repair work. In the 200 Areas, I was doing both field engineering and field inspection for new instrumentations that were being put in place.
Bauman: I want to go back a little bit to you said you first started working in Hanford in 1944. Right?
Stratton: Correct.
Bauman: Did you know what you were working on? Did you know it was--
Stratton: I've been asked that question many times.
Bauman: A lot of times?
Stratton: When did you find out that the—what they were doing here at Hanford? I might say this. My background being an electrical engineer and ham radio as a hobby, I had enough electronic experience in my background to begin to figure out from the instruments that we were using pretty much what was being done here at Hanford. So it took a while before I got all the details, but I started figuring out in the early days what was really happening here.
Bauman: And do you remember when you first heard the news that the war had ended, anything along those lines?
Stratton: I might relate one interesting experience. When they first made an announcement of what was being done here at Hanford, it was just a limited amount of information that was released to the news media. It so happened that my wife and I—this was in 1945—my wife and I were on a vacation trip, and we were at Mount Rainier. And when the news came out, of course, being the closed-mouth person I am, I didn't even say, boo, that I had worked at Hanford. However, my supervisor back in Richland was so afraid that I was going to start talking and say things that I shouldn't about the work that was, that he frantically got hold of me there at the—I think we were at Paradise Inn at the time. He was all concerned that I'd start talking. And I let him know right off the bat that I know not to keep—to keep my mouth shut and not talk—[LAUGHTER] other than what's official or released.
Bauman: So he called you while you were on vacation to make sure you--
Stratton: He called me to make sure that I didn't blab my mouth, something I shouldn't say.
Bauman: So you sort of mentioned a couple of times the security at Hanford, obviously. I wonder, and you lived in the dorms initially and then lived in a house in Richland. So in terms of security, getting onsite to work every day. Did you drive your car? Did you take a bus? How did that work?
Stratton: As I recall, I was using the transportation that was provided, bus transportation. Speaking of security, reminded me of another instance. I might back up a bit here. The people that I had working with me in the 700 Area were available to maintain instruments out on the Hanford Project. We had certain instruments that we would go out and take a look at. So one day I sent one of my personnel out to look at this equipment out in one of the remote areas. And she had a run-in, so to speak with the guards at the gate. She had been doing this job quite a bit, got to know quite a few of the guards at the gate, and she would kid them going through. And this particular day there was a guard at the gate that apparently she had not become acquainted with. And she made—when he asked her something about the equipment that she had—some of the equipment would be taken out for maintenance purposes. He asked her what she was carrying, and she made some remark about it being explosive or something along that nature, which—that was the wrong thing for her to say. And she had quite a hard time explaining herself out of that one. Another instance of security that I can recall—we had some instruments that were manufactured and when they arrived, the meter on the front of the instrument read millirankines. That was a no-no from an information standpoint. We did not want people that were not familiar with what was going on—that was the very early days—what we were actually measuring. And we had to take every one of those instruments out of the case and blank out the word, paint over the word millirankines to keep people who were not privy to the information to be able to read it, know what we were measuring. That gives you an idea of how strict security was in those days.
Bauman: And did you have to have a special security clearance to do the job that you had?
Stratton: I was issued what was called a Q clearance at the time. I think it was the popular security clearance for most people that would have access to classified information.
Bauman: Sure. I want to go back a little bit, again, to that first period during the war when you were living in the dorm. What sorts of entertainment was available on site for all the workers who were living in the dorms? Were there things to do for entertainment?
Stratton: [LAUGHTER] I don't recall too much that I got involved in as far as entertainment is concerned. I was never much of a entertainment type person. I didn't do carousing around like some people did. I don't recall too much in the way of entertainment. I might say took some hikes. Four of us actually climbed up the side of Rattlesnake Mountain. That would've been in the early part of 1944. And on another occasion I got out and hiked up to the top of Badger. But I don't recall too much in the way of entertainment that I got involved in in those days.
Bauman: And you said that you moved to Richland. You and your wife got married and moved to Richland. What was Richland like at the time as a community in the 1940s and the 1950s?
Stratton: Well, in the early 1940s, it was a closed town, of course. And you had to have a reason to be here. I don't remember too much about the details. It just wasn't a lot of interest from my standpoint in the early days.
Bauman: Can you think of any events or significant happenings, things that happened at Hanford while you were working there. I know President Kennedy came in 1963 to visit the N Reactor. I wonder if you were there at that time or any other events that stand out in your mind?
Stratton: I remember going and seeing Kennedy when he came. I was off at a distance. I was working out in the 100 Areas at the time. And I remember going and seeing him at a distance. I'm trying to think of any other events of particular interest. I can't think of anything to mention right at the moment, Bob.
Bauman: Okay. Were there ever any emergencies, fires or anything along those lines that happened while you were working that stand out at all?
Stratton: Gee, I can't think of anything of particular interest at the time, Bob.
Bauman: You worked, so you worked at Hanford basically from 1944 to 1982, right?
Stratton: Right.
Bauman: That's almost 40 years. My math.
Stratton: Almost 40.
Bauman: Long time. You must have seen a fair amount of change take place on the site, in the technology that was used or maybe some of the procedures or policies. I wondered if you could--
Stratton: Probably the biggest change would be in policies—that I can think of. Of course, equipment was updated tremendously over that period of time. And what we started with in the early days was antique by the time I retired. But I think maybe policies were some of the biggest situations that I can relate to.
Bauman: Are there any particular policies or practice that stand out that changed?
Stratton: Nothing that I can relate to right at the moment. I can't think of anything in particular, but—
Bauman: Hanford obviously at some point, it was for years about production and at some point shifted to clean up. Had that started to happen when you were working there?
Stratton: Not really. No. There wasn't a whole lot of that activity. Clean up pretty much started after I retired.
Bauman: I wonder if there's—what you would like future generations, people who never worked at the Hanford site to understand, to know about working at Hanford during World War II and the Cold War era?
Stratton: Well, the thing that some of the people wonder about—we were producing plutonium. Was that a good thing? Well, you have to look at it from the standpoint that the war effort was brought to an end primarily because of the work that we started here with the production of plutonium. It undoubtedly brought the war to an end. That's what the way we have to—the way I would like to look at it.
Bauman: And you said you worked there almost 40 years. There were a lot of people who didn't. The termination winds sent a lot of people packing.
Stratton: Those were—that’s true.
Bauman: You know, what was it that kept you here for almost 40 years?
Stratton: Probably getting married. [LAUGHTER] That would be probably the main reason that we decided to stay and raise a family here. I was working in a field that was of interest to me. Like I mentioned, I was a ham radio operator from way back. And I was in the instrument field and the work that I was doing was of real interest for me. And so I had no particular desire to move away from here. So I think that is one of the things that kept me here. Of course, we started our family and from then on this was home.
Bauman: So overall, how would you describe Hanford as a place to work?
Stratton: Well, for me it worked out to be a very good place. Young people that came along after I'd been here for a few years, like tech grads coming in for a short stay and they wanted to know, do you think this is a good place to try to continue working here? And I would always encourage them to go ahead and apply for employment here at the Hanford Project. Because I think if it was in their field of interest or field of training, that would be a good place for them to work.
Bauman: Is there anything I haven't asked you about that you think would be important to talk about or any special memories or specific memories that you think would be important to talk about?
Stratton: I think you've covered it very nicely. Well, I can't think of anything in particular to add to what we've covered so far.
Bauman: Well, great. I want to thank you, Monte, for coming.
Stratton: Oh, you're sure welcome.
Bauman: I really appreciate it.
Stratton: Only too happy to do what I could to--I don't know whether this will help the cause very much.
Bauman: It's terrific. Yeah. Thank you very much.
Stratton: Oh, you're sure welcome.
Northwest Public Television | Kleinknecht_Emma
Robert Bauman: I'm conducting an oral history interview with Emma Larson Kleinknecht if I have the name right, correct?
Emma Kleinknecht: Right.
Bauman: And the spelling is K-L-E-I-N-K-N-E-C-H-T?
Kleinknecht: Correct.
Bauman: Excellent All right. Make sure we have the spelling right.
Kleinknecht: Yep.
Bauman: And today's date is June 12, 2013 and we're conducting the interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. And I'll be talking with Ms. Kleinknecht about her family's history, her experiences growing up in Richland, in that community. So let's just start, if I could, by asking you about your family. How, and why, and when did they come to this area? What brought them here, and any information about your family and why they came here would be great.
Kleinknecht: Well, my dad came from Denmark. And he went up to Alaska and worked in the mines. And then he came down to Seattle, and after a while, he got interested in working with the cattle. So somehow or another he came over to Richland and met my mother over there, and she was single. And then he married her, and I was born 1918.
Bauman: And your mother, was your mother born and raised in Richland or--
Kleinknecht: No. She was born and raised on the coast. But she had relatives that lived over that way.
Bauman: Do you know when your parents married?
Kleinknecht: Oh, a couple years before I was born.
Bauman: And how about any siblings? Are there any brothers or sisters?
Kleinknecht: Oh yes. There were six, three girls and three boys. And then when I was eight years old, my dad came in the house, he says, "Emma, you've got to learn to milk cows." Because the girls were first, you know. So I went out and helped milk cows, or learned how. And from then on, I milked cows. But all of us had to go out and pitch hay to make hay for the cattle, and we put it on a big haystack. And there's a picture of that here.
Bauman: So you had a place with lots of cattle? Do you have any idea how many cattle?
Kleinknecht: Yeah, we had eight cows, two horses. Because in them days, you never had tractors, so you had to have horses, to do all the outdoor work like that.
Bauman: And did you grow any crops?
Kleinknecht: Oh yes! We raised everything by hand. We had corn, and tomatoes, and you name it. All the vegetables there were.
Bauman: And were those primarily for your family?
Kleinknecht: Yeah. And then the cream, we separated and sent it down to Kennewick to the creamery where they made butter. And, course you got paid for it. And, let's see, what else--
Bauman: How big was the place that you had--
Kleinknecht: I think we had about 20 acres. We had a lot of asparagus, and us kids had to cut asparagus before the school bus came, or we didn't get to go to school. But we went to an old country school, where was one teacher, five grades. There's a picture of me in one of them pictures.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And was this in Richland or?
Kleinknecht: Old Richland, up north.
Bauman: Okay.
Kleinknecht: We never got downtown for a while. It was really something.
Bauman: So you said five grades and--
Kleinknecht: Five grades and one teacher.
Bauman: And do you have any idea of around how many students that would've been?
Kleinknecht: I used to know, but I forgot. [LAUGHTER] That was back when.
Bauman: Yeah. And how long did you go to school there, then?
Kleinknecht: I think I was in the fifth grade and then, about that time, we had a school bus that would take us downtown to the old schools. I called them old, because they're so different [LAUGHTER] now.
Bauman: You have a photo you wanted me to show?
Kleinknecht: Oh, yeah. This is the country school.
Bauman: Okay, great. So it looks like there's maybe, what, 20 or 30?
Kleinknecht: Could be.
Bauman: Is there something like that?
Kleinknecht: It could be.
Bauman: 1925?
Kleinknecht: That's about right. I wrote it down there.
Bauman: Yeah, 1925. Fruitvale School.
Kleinknecht: And this school was used for a church, and a dance hall, and a grange hall. Because, see, all the farmers were grangers. So that was in the good old days. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And so--that's a great photo--After that, after, say, fifth grade, where did you go to school?
Kleinknecht: Downtown.
Bauman: Okay.
Kleinknecht: There was a grade school and a high school down there.
Bauman: I think you sent us some photos of you playing basketball, maybe?
Kleinknecht: Oh yeah! That was downtown. That was a different kind of basketball. I was a side center. I'm the second one there. The tallest girl was the center, and then I was a side center because I was shortest. Then there were two guards, and two forwards.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Kleinknecht: And now they play just like the boys do. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Yeah, it says champion basketball.
Kleinknecht: Yeah, that one is.
Bauman: Yeah, 1935, '36. That's great. Do you remember how long you played? Did you play throughout high school then?
Kleinknecht: Oh yeah. That's what this is.
Bauman: Do you remember if there were other sports for girls to play in high school besides basketball?
Kleinknecht: That's all we played, anyway.
Bauman: So I assume the schools in downtown Richland were a little bigger?
Kleinknecht: Oh, yeah. There were five grades in one building. Then we went over to the high school. And right by the high school was a Methodist Church and a Seven Day Adventist. Catholics all had to go downtown because there were no church. And so my dad found some building, and had to make a Lutheran church, because all Scandinavians were Lutherans. And that's where he came from. So we all became Lutherans.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] So you talked about that early school building, in Fruitvale, being used as a school building, a church, a grange. I was wondering about other social activities, or community activities that you might remember growing up. Were there Fourth of July celebrations, or community picnics or any of those sorts of things?
Kleinknecht: Oh, I've kind of forgot, but I think that it could've been used for anything. But those other things were always the big things.
Bauman: Yeah.
Kleinknecht: Them were the days. And I had to run from our house, across the sagebrush to the school. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] So what sorts of things growing up did you do for fun? Did you do fishing, or did you go swimming in the river, or any of those sorts of things?
Kleinknecht: Well, my dad, when we were little, would take us down at the river and get us swimming to get cleaned up, so we could go to church. [LAUGHTER] See, we weren't too far from that Columbia River where we used to live. But that was in the summertime. [LAUGHTER] So we were tickled to death to get to go down there and swim.
Bauman: Did the river ever freeze over when you were--
Kleinknecht: Not when we went down there. This was only in the summer.
Bauman: Yeah, sure. So the place where you grew up, in addition into a house, did you have a barn? Was there other buildings like an outhouse, anything like that?
Kleinknecht: Oh yeah. We had outdoor toilets. Pumped our water out of wells, and when we milked the cow we had a separator, and had to separate the milk and get the cream. Yep, we had all them old things. Had to pump water for washing clothes, taking baths, and put water in big tea kettles so you could wash dishes. It was a different world then.
Bauman: Did you have electricity at all?
Kleinknecht: No. Not for years.
Bauman: How long did you live there in that place?
Kleinknecht: Gosh, I don't remember. It seems like my dad passed away, and my mom sold our house. And we moved over next to that school house. There was an old building there. And she still kept a few cows, and just had a garden, and like an orchard out in the fields. So after that, we were catching school buses.
Bauman: When you were growing up, what might a typical day have been like for you as a young girl?
Kleinknecht: The what?
Bauman: What might a typical day have been for you as a young girl--
Kleinknecht: Oh.
Bauman: The things you might have done on a typical day as a young girl, growing up.
Kleinknecht: Yeah. Well, I joined the 4H group. For one thing, and we really had a lot of fun. Learned how to sew, and cook, that's what 4Hs were in them days. I don't know if they still have them or not.
Bauman: I believe they do, yeah.
Kleinknecht: Do they? Yeah, those were the days. Then there's times we'd, a few of us neighbor kids, get together and walk down the river, and walk back up, and swing on swings. That was about the size of it.
Bauman: I wonder if you remember anything--the Great Depression came along in 1929 or so, and I wonder if you remember, with the Depression, anything specific that had impacted your family, or the community in any way?
Kleinknecht: No. I think because we raised everything we ate, my mom canned everything. And everything we had was from the ground. And none of us suffered from it. Because we had our own milk and those kind of things. Nope, them were the days.
Bauman: And so where were you living in 1943 during World War II, when the federal government came and created the Hanford site? Were you still--
Kleinknecht: Oh, I was married then. I got married in '38.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Kleinknecht: That was a bad thing. The government gave everybody a check. They didn't even know this was coming. And told them to get out, take everything you got and leave. So my mom went to Grandview. Some of them went up there, some went to Prosser, and a couple of them stayed there. But they all had to leave town and they went to Kennewick.
Bauman: So your mother was still living on the same place at that time and she left and to Grandview?
Kleinknecht: Yeah.
Bauman: Were any of your younger siblings still living with her, or--
Kleinknecht: Yeah, I think they were, because I was the oldest one.
Bauman: And so you said you got married in 1938?
Kleinknecht: '38, yeah.
Bauman: And who was your husband? How did you meet?
Kleinknecht: Umm, he was a friend of my sister's boyfriend. [LAUGHTER] That's how I met him. In fact, his folks they didn't live too far from where we built a big house and lived in there, on Westhood Avenue.
Bauman: So you said that you moved to Kennewick, right?
Kleinknecht: Yeah.
Bauman: What was Kennewick like in 1938--
Kleinknecht: It was real small. Just a small town, and it was just groceries and a couple drugstores. It's not pool halls like you go down there now. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And what did your husband do?
Kleinknecht: He was just a--oh, he was a farmer but afterwards, he worked out in Hanford in the fire department.
Bauman: Do you know how long he was there or worked at the fire department?
Kleinknecht: I'm trying to think. They let him go, and then he got sick and passed away. It was probably something from out in that area. But that's been several years ago.
Bauman: Now, you mentioned going back to talking about the place where you grew up, that you had a well for water--
Kleinknecht: Yeah, we pumped our water out of the well. For even the cows and the horses. And we had to bring the horses up to the pump, because that's okay. But he carried the water in a big wheelbarrow, in buckets, to put in a barrel down for the cows. Because he wasn't about to, I'm sure, drag them up there. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And did you have irrigation at all?
Kleinknecht: Oh yes! Oh, yes, not for the house, but for the fields. Oh yeah, we had K.I.D., just like they got now.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Were there any other photos, Gary, that you wanted to talk about, or any other--
Gary: Well sure. We've got her graduating class. Just--I'll hold it.
Kleinknecht: Okay.
Bauman: What year is-- You said you graduated high school in what year is that?
Kleinknecht: '38, or '36.
Bauman: 1936. Graduating class of how many is that?
Kleinknecht: 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15.
Bauman: Graduating class of 15.
Kleinknecht: Yeah.
Bauman: Was that Columbia high school?
Kleinknecht: No. Richland.
Bauman: The old Richland, right, sure. Richland, High. Then it became Columbia, the Columbia High, you're right.
Kleinknecht: Yep. Two, four, five boys, and the rest are girls.
[LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Did you stay in contact with a lot of your high school friends after?
Kleinknecht: Oh after I graduated and got married we all kind of--then several years ago we had picnic lunches together, but that's been a while back. But not many of them are here anymore.
Bauman: Do you remember any of your teachers from the high school?
Kleinknecht: Oh, yeah. That basketball player, oh that guy there. In the middle, up there, Mr. Carmichael.
Bauman: Oh, is that Mr. Carmichael?
Kleinknecht: Yeah.
Bauman: Isn't that who the school was named after?
Kleinknecht: Mm-hm.
Bauman: Was he a principal?
Kleinknecht: Yep. He was a good guy. There was a grade school and a high school in downtown Richland. And that was-- I can't see the—193-what?
Gary: Five.
Kleinknecht: Oh.
Bauman: Yeah. Both are in 1935. Do you know where in Richland that would have been?
Kleinknecht: Yeah. You know where John Dam's grocery store used to be?
Bauman: No, is it--
Kleinknecht: On Kennewick Avenue.
Gary: [INAUDIBLE]
Bauman: Yeah.
Kleinknecht: You don't know either, huh?
Bauman: That's all right.
Kleinknecht: I know where to pick them out.
Gary: I know where the Amon Building is.
Kleinknecht: Well, just back there a ways.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Kleinknecht: But see, that's all that was around those buildings, just little--
Bauman: Mm-hm. Yeah, not a whole lot of other buildings there.
Kleinknecht: No. I think there's a toilet in the back out there.
Gary: Yeah, I would hope so.
Bauman: Are there any things that you remember growing up or that really stand out to you that--memories you have, or things that you think would be really important for people to know about this place where you grew up that we haven't talked about yet?
Kleinknecht: Well, they would never have realized how we made our living off the ground. Kids nowadays won't do that. Okay, here is us kids driving the horses. Because we had no tractors.
Bauman: And that's you and a couple of your siblings?
Kleinknecht: Yep, a couple boys. Yep. That's old Prince and Henry. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And did you have the horses then the whole time you were growing up? You never got tractors?
Kleinknecht: Well, when my dad was alive, we never had a tractor. And there's that one with the hay. Okay, that's how—Show them. Show them how the haystacks were.
Bauman: Yeah.
Gary: Can you talk about it?
Kleinknecht: Yeah. I know us kids would get the hay in big stacks. Then we'd throw it up on this wagon. And then tie--they had a rope here and here, and then time we got down to the haystack, they'd tie that rope up above in there, and then pull it over. Roll it, that's how they got the hay in a big stack.
Bauman: Sounds like a lot of work.
Kleinknecht: It was. In the winter time, they'd take a great big canvas and cover the top of the hay, so it wouldn't get wet and ruined. That's how they fed the cattle and the horse.
Bauman: I was going to ask you about any neighbors. Who were your closest neighbors, or did you have any really good friends when you were growing up that you remember?
Kleinknecht: Oh, yeah. These are all--were my neighbors when I grew up. First grade.
Bauman: Oh. Who are they?
Gary: Tell them about them.
Kleinknecht: Oh, okay. That's, the Kaas boy, I can't think of his name right now. He lived right down a ways.
Bauman: Is that Gordon?
Kleinknecht: No.
Bauman: It's at the bottom, Mom.
Kleinknecht: Oh, did I write it there? Oh, Ed Kaas, yeah.
Bauman: Okay.
Kleinknecht: And then Phillip Hempcry, right there and me, oh, and Carol Hansen. He's the little guy. But they're no relation. Yep. They all live not too far apart.
Bauman: Right. In fact, I just talked to Gordon Kaas this morning.
Kleinknecht: Oh did you?
Bauman: Yeah.
Kleinknecht: See, and then there was also another one. Started with an F. Oh, phooey. He lived down the Pole Line Road. There was an irrigation canal between the school and the other families' farms.
Bauman: And so you lived close enough to those families where you could--
Kleinknecht: We played all the time, yeah.
Bauman: That's fun.
Kleinknecht: Gee, I can't think of that name, and I know it like I do even mine. I'll think of it.
Bauman: That's all right.
Kleinknecht: [LAUGHTER] Oh! Yeah, my dad wanted to be baker. This is in Denmark. And his dad didn't want him to be a baker, so he and his cousin jumped something and come to the United States from Denmark. And that's how come he met my mom and that's how come I'm here.
Bauman: So, did he come to the United States-- do you know why the United States, was it just for opportunity?
Kleinknecht: Well, to get a good job. He wanted to maybe get to be a baker here. But he and his cousin, they went to Alaska. Then they come to Seattle and worked on a farm. And that's what got him interested.
Bauman: That's interesting because Gordon Kaas said that--I was just talking to him this morning--his father is from Denmark.
Kleinknecht: Oh.
Bauman: Yeah. So two families from Denmark living very close. [LAUGHTER]
Kleinknecht: Well, I'll be darned! What was his name?
Bauman: Kaas. His first name was--well, Gordon Kaas was the man I talked to this morning, but I think you're talking about his older brother--
Kleinknecht: Harold. I'll be darned.
Bauman: Yeah, their father was from Denmark. Initially, they went to Oregon somewhere--
Kleinknecht: Yeah.
Bauman: So, I’m trying to think of any--I guess one other question to ask you is, So you were married in '38 and moved to Kennewick, and I was just gonna ask you about when--do you remember finding out about, for instance, about World War II? The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, do you remember any of that? Any memories about hearing about that?
Kleinknecht: Pearl Harbor. I knew about it, and forgot about it. Who do I know about it?
Gary: It's what started World War II.
Kleinknecht: Pearl Harbor?
Bauman: That's all right. Another question, Did you have--How did you get news? Was there a newspaper or anything?
Kleinknecht: Oh, yeah. Newspaper. When we were married, we had a little radio for a while, and then we got a TV.
Bauman: But when you were growing up, it was a newspaper?
Kleinknecht: Always. And a radio. Oh when I grew up, you never had televisions. I don't think anybody did.
Gary: Do you wanna tell them about that?
Kleinknecht: Oh. Well, this is my mother, and sisters and brothers, and there's the horse. [LAUGHTER] See, that's how we heated up our house, with wood.
Bauman: Yeah, sure, right.
Kleinknecht: Everybody did.
Bauman: What was the horse's name again?
Kleinknecht: Prince, one was Prince and one was Henry. I think that was probably Henry, because Prince was a little fussier. And I don't think they would carry him out.
Bauman: So the horses were obviously very important.
Kleinknecht: Oh, yes.
Bauman: For doing a lot of the work on your place.
Kleinknecht: Yep. Because we never had tractors. In fact, you couldn't afford to buy one if you did, if you would want one. Nope. Them were the days. Oh, yes, and here's my momma and my papa, and my two sisters. One of them's me.
Bauman: You're the oldest?
Kleinknecht: Second.
Bauman: Oh, you're the second? Okay. That's a great photo.
Kleinknecht: Yeah, my dad--
Bauman: So that would've been some time in the 1920s, huh?
Gary: Early.
Kleinknecht: Yeah. He's from Denmark. And he--
Bauman: Do you know where-- You said she was living in Richland, right?
Kleinknecht: Yeah.
Bauman: Do you know where her family came from?
Kleinknecht: Oh, like, over on the coast. I was trying to think of the little name. Yelm.
Bauman: Oh, Yelm, okay.
Kleinknecht: Yeah.
Bauman: Is that what you said, she had relatives here and that's why--
Kleinknecht: That's why she came over. I think she had a sister or an aunt or something. Nope, but I'll never forget our school days.
Gary: We're getting kinda low on them.
Bauman: That's Okay.
Gary: Do you wanna talk about--well, you've seen--No, that's the little kids.
Kleinknecht: Oh, the grade school.
Gary: Let me hold it, Mom.
Kleinknecht: Just a minute, I gotta look at them. Oh, this is everybody in that school.
Gary: That's your first grade.
Kleinknecht: Yeah. 1925. That's my first grade, yeah, but that's the five grades. They all dressed alike in them days.
[LAUGHING]
Kleinknecht: We were all poor people. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So if someone is to you, like, what sort of place Richland was like to grow up in, what would you--how would you describe it? What would you say to them?
Kleinknecht: In them days?
Bauman: Yeah. When you were growing up.
Kleinknecht: Well, I'd been in that place for so long. I don't know. Because there was an irrigation ditch from the school to—you cross the bridge, then we'd go home. We used to stop and go swimming. Oh, I kinda liked where I lived. And then, of course, after I got married my mom went to Grandview. But that wasn't my cup of tea. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Did your brothers and sisters, stay in the area?
Kleinknecht: I'm trying to think.
Bauman: Or did they move elsewhere?
Kleinknecht: I think they moved elsewhere. I know one went down to Oregon, and the other went up north further. And then my oldest brother was a heavy smoker. And he had to go pass away. I don't know where he ever got money to buy cigarettes, but he did.
Bauman: Anything else about growing up here in Richland that you want to make sure we know about, or?
Kleinknecht: Well, I just like the town, Old Richland. And then where there is a yellow building, like before you go down to the park, brick building, that used to be a two story building. And now it's only one. There was a John Dam store, and a Murray Hardware, and--oh, what do you call them? It'll come to me.
Bauman: That's all right.
Kleinknecht: Name some names, quick.
Gary: Describe, what? Describe it.
Kleinknecht: The store.
Gary: Yeah, describe it. What did they do there?
Kleinknecht: Oh, like the shave and cut your hair.
Gary: Oh--
Kleinknecht: Barbershop.
Bauman: Barbershop? Yeah. Was there a movie theater down at all?
Kleinknecht: Not in Richland.
Bauman: No?
Kleinknecht: You had to come to Kennewick to go to a movie. [LAUGHTER] And they were cheap, ten cents. Cheap now, I don't know if it was cheap then. [LAUGHTER] My dad did take us kids to a movie once for a dime but it had to be a special.
Bauman: Right, sure. Yeah.
Kleinknecht: No, them old days. Right now they're good old days.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] All right, well--
Gary: Would you like me to prompt her?
Bauman: Sure, if there's something that you think--
Gary: I can probably pull a story or two out.
Bauman: Sure, that's fine.
Gary: Okay. Did you guys have dances?
Kleinknecht: Oh yeah.
Gary: Okay. Did--
Kleinknecht: In that school house.
Gary: And did your parents participate?
Kleinknecht: Oh, heavens, yes. This is the grange hall, after the meetings. My dad danced with every lady. But my mom wasn't dancing. So I asked her why? She said, "I'm a Sunday school girl." But she never learned to dance.
Bauman: So she wasn't gonna dance.
Kleinknecht: No. She's a Sunday school girl.
Gary: Did your dad ever help you gals, or your brothers and sisters get out to go to dances?
Kleinknecht: With him.
Gary: Oh, okay.
Kleinknecht: Yeah, we all went to the dances.
Gary: But your mom didn't approve?
Kleinknecht: She went along, but she didn't dance. But I'd learned to dance all kinds of dances.
Gary: Do you remember when the last time you danced was?
Kleinknecht: Oh--
Gary: I do.
Kleinknecht: At your wedding?
Gary: No.
[LAUGHTER]
Gary: You did there too.
Kleinknecht: We out danced every--
Gary: It was your 90th birthday.
Kleinknecht: Oh, yeah!
Gary: Yeah. You danced with me.
Kleinknecht: That's a couple years ago.
Gary: It was.
Kleinknecht: [LAUGHTER] I forgot. Yeah, I love to dance.
Bauman: So the dances were in that same building as the school and the church grange meetings, or were they different?
Kleinknecht: As we grew up, they were in there. But as we got older and the bigger schools they didn't do it anymore.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Kleinknecht: We all went downtown to the schools, because they were much better schools. More new, indoor toilets, drinking water, everything.
Gary: Do you remember when your dad got sick eventually and died, do you remember any of the stories that go along with that?
Kleinknecht: No. I know he passed away at home.
Gary: Do you remember what he died of?
Kleinknecht: I think it was his heart.
Gary: It was hepatitis.
Kleinknecht: It was what?
Gary: Hepatitis.
Kleinknecht: Hepatitis.
Gary: It was, you called it, the yellow jaundice.
Kleinknecht: Oh, I'd forgotten that. Yeah. That's been a while back.
Gary: Yeah, it was.
Kleinknecht: Yeah, hepatitis.
Bauman: I was gonna ask you, you and your siblings, were you all born at home?
Kleinknecht: Mm-hm.
Bauman: All at home?
Kleinknecht: Yeah. Nope, doctors never come to your house in them days. You had to deliver them yourself. Nope, them were different days.
Bauman: Any other stories you think we should talk about?
Gary: If you give me a minute. Earlier there was a question about the river freezing over. It certainly wasn't when you guys went swimming--
Kleinknecht: Oh, no.
Gary: Did it freeze in the winter?
Kleinknecht: Oh, yeah.
Gary: Was it common?
Kleinknecht: [Nods] When it froze. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Did you ever go ice skating on it?
Kleinknecht: No. We stayed away from it.
Bauman: I was also gonna ask you, I understand there was a ferry that would transport people across the river, is that right?
Kleinknecht: Yep.
Bauman: Somewhere--
Kleinknecht: Down south at Kennewick. It crossed over to Pasco.
Bauman: And that's how people could get across. There weren't any bridges at the time?
Kleinknecht: Yeah there was, but it was way down, like where it is now. But if you wanted to take the ferry over from Richland, you wouldn't have to drive clear down there. And we did.
Gary: How about the Timmerman ferry? Do you remember that one?
Kleinknecht: That name sounds familiar. That was the one across the Yakima? ‘Cause the other one--
Gary: I think it was near the mouth of the Yakima, but I think it crossed the Columbia.
Kleinknecht: Could be. I've heard the name.
Gary: I'm not sure, it was before my time.
Kleinknecht: [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: I think that might be right. I think that's what I heard.
Kleinknecht: Well, that's the way the cookie crumbles.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Well, I want to thank you for coming in today and sharing your memories. And the photos are great as well, those are terrific photos.
Kleinknecht: Sure, I hope I give you some good—
Bauman: Oh yeah! It's very interesting stuff to hear about from people who lived here. Who know what was going on.
Kleinknecht: People would never done what we did. [LAUGHTER] God.
Bauman: Well thank you very much, I really appreciate you coming--
Kleinknecht: Imagine, milking cows? [LAUGHTER]
Gary: They still do.
Kleinknecht: Well some places.
Gary: With machines.
Kleinknecht: With machines, yeah.
Northwest Public Television | Snyder_Wayne_1
Wayne Snyder: That was always the worst thing when I worked was public speaking. I don't know how they do it. All three of my children are--they all speak about their professions. My son sings publicly and everything, but they came from a dad who isn't that much around—
Robert Bauman: Not much for public speaking?
Snyder: Oh Amos, if you stay down, it's okay.
Bauman: Okay, we good? All right, let's go ahead and get started.
Snyder: Okay.
Bauman: Let's start by just having you say your name and spell it for us.
Snyder: Okay. Wayne Snyder, W-A-Y-N-E, S-N-Y-D-E-R.
Bauman: All right, and today's date is September 4th, 2013.
Snyder: Correct.
Bauman: And we're conducting this interview in Mr. Snyder's home—
Snyder: Right.
Bauman: --in Richland. So let's start by maybe having you tell me about how you came to Hanford, how you heard about the place, when you came.
Snyder: Okay. Well, I was at University of Colorado. I graduated there in 1950 in chemistry, and GE was one of two outfits that interviewed me. They were offering a salary of $54 a week, and that beat out the government job in Rifle, Colorado doing oil shale by about $5 a week. So I accepted this, thinking I was going to the General Electric research laboratory back in Schenectady, New York, but wound up--oh, no, you're going to Hanford. We need to people out there. So I got on the—well, my parents came to my graduation; they put me on the train to Richland. And I got here in the middle of night in Kennewick, and I had only a bus ticket from Pendleton to Kennewick. GE was supposed to pick me up, but they didn't. So I was fumbling around with all my luggage, all of my worldly belongings, and looking for a motel. A lady came by and said, what are you doing? I said, well, I'm trying to get to Hanford or to Richland, if you know where that is. She said, oh yeah. She said, I'm picking up my son who is just off shift down here. Can I give you a lift up to town? So we pulled into Richland, and it was about midnight by this time. And the city lights were pretty much on, and I thought, wow. You know, it looked to me at that time kind of like Las Vegas, all lights lit up, very contemporary. Bell Furniture had its lights on on its sign. And the building I went to was the Hanford House, which was called then the Desert Inn, a structure that preceded the existing building. And it was an old army facility, and everything looked like army around here. And I went in, and I said, I would like to get a room for tonight if I could. And they said, sure. I said, first I got to tell you. I have a check for $35, if you could cash that it would help me to pay for the place. And they said, oh sure. So I spent the night, on the second floor, woke up and looked out my window. And it was the most bare—just place without any life or anything except for the big river that I could see flowing by. And I thought, oh God, if I can just earn enough money to get a car, I'll get out of here. But I'm here later, all this time. Excuse me, my voice is cracking on me. And so I was taken over to the 703 Building, which was at that time where the Federal Building is today. And it was the headquarters for all of the Hanford site General Electric company top dogs, and the AEC, as DOE was in those days. And it was a white—just white, wooden building like everything in town, looking like an army camp, and a big building though. It had a main hallway that extended, I think, five wings, and so you would go in the building, and here's the big lobby. And I was taken to a place where they would interview me again, I think. And they said, oh you're a tech grad aren't you? And that was because I was wearing a blue sport coat and a tie. And he said, oh, yeah, you're not coming to dig ditches. you're coming to be a professional. I said, well, that's good. And so they oriented me and told me where I would be working, and asked if everything was going well. I was living in a dormitory in North Richland at that time, and that was about—what it is, six miles out of town from the Federal Building. So they made sure I could get the bus and get to work and stuff like that, but told me I'd be working out at the bismuth phosphate process, the 200 East 271 Canyon. It's the building that today they are just calling the Queen Mary. Its sister building is, the 271-T. But 271 was the B Plant, and it did the batch processing of all of the irradiated fuels in the 100 Areas, dissolved them up, separated them out by this bismuth phosphate precipitation process. Refined them through pretty much a high concentration plutonium nitrate solution. And that went on off to the 330--233 B, which was over in Two West Area. And you are not interested in the rest of the process, because it just gets boring. But anyway, I got out to work. I took the bus out, which became a very, very common thing every day. Run out and catch the bus, and go 30 miles through the desert to the north and get to the 300 Area. Excuse me, the 200 East Area. And go into my little building, which was the analytical laboratories associated with the big processing canyon building. And there I did various analytical tests, you know, determining how much plutonium in the solution, what were the concentrations of the fission products, and what was left? And we started out with the initial dissolution of the batch process, and they would dissolve up in nitric acid. I don't know how many--fuel slugs, we called them in those days--they are now the fuel element. But they were about eight inches long, and about that big in diameter. And a whole batch of them would get dissolved up—you know, half a ton or something like that. And then we would measure all of the concentration of the various elements as it went through the precipitation process. And we took it through the lithium--the wait a second--hafnium fluoride. I'm getting confused here. This has been quite a few years ago--through a concentration and there the f-10 p sample went on to the Two West Area where the oxalate precipitation took place. And at that time, that was the end of the processing at Hanford. It went through a plutonium solution, plutonium nitrate, was bottled up in very safe containers and shipped to either Los Alamos, or to, I believe, Oak Ridge. And Los Alamos was able to go ahead and make metal out of it from which they fashioned to the various bomb pits. And we sort of ended there, but a few years later, as a matter of fact I worked at it, they built what's now called the Plutonium Finishing Plant. But it was at that time the 234-5 Building, and I worked there again as an analytical chemist in the analytical laboratories. And we were measuring the purity of the plutonium, the amount of extraneous materials. And unlike the bismuth phosphate process where we were worried about the radiation—the very high level gamma irradiation—over at 234-5, we were worried more about contamination from the plutonium. Plutonium gives off no radiation that penetrates anything, but if you ingest it, you've had it. And so we'd be in gloveboxes and protective clothing, and I don't think we had anything over our faces. But I remember reaching through the glovebox and refining all of the plutonium. And then I was a spectrometer. We did a spectrometric analysis of the old fashioned kind, where we burned it off, caught the rays that came off of it, and then we could read all of the barium, the cesium, the plutonium, everything in it. And that would go back to the processing, and if it was determined clean enough and everything, it would then be sent on—the metal from which it came--would be sent on to Los Alamos for processing. But very quickly after that, they built the lines, the ABC and whatever line, which went ahead and processed the metal—the plutonium metal into a shape, which was then shaped into the bomb pit that was being built at the time. And it's not thought of that Hanford ever really handled the metal or produced weapons—weapon parts, but we did for quite a few years. And that seems like a long part of my life, those three years from 1950 up until 1953, when I was kind of tired of that. And I think they were tired of me, perhaps, out at that area too. I interviewed for and got a job in radiation monitoring. And the nice thing about it, it was the first time I lived closer to town. It was--that facility was officed in the 300 Area. And it was day shift. That other time I worked shift work the whole time. This was ABCD shift. It was 24/7. The plants were operating constantly. And so I would be working day shift, then swing shift, then graveyard shift, and it's rotated, so that you were cut out of your night life for every two out of three--let me get it straight--weekends. And all my buddies that I was with in the dormitories had all--they were day shift. And they worked Monday through Friday, they would take off weekends for the mountains or for the rivers or for the fun times. And I would get to go every third long weekend. I was off from Friday morning graveyard until Wednesday afternoon swing shift, so I had what's called a long weekend which is four full days of fun and playing except, there was nobody around that I liked, that I enjoyed. There were a lot of people worked those shifts. But most of them were operators in the production plants, or were at least a part of the continuing plutonium production and not into research or other more fun things like they did in 300 Area. Well, I was able to do that for about two more years or so, and in 1955, I was interviewed and joined a group called the Graphite Group. This group was involved in studying graphite, which is the main moderator. It's that big black block in the center of the reactors which slows the neutrons down to absorption velocity, so that they get struck in the 235 and cause it to fission, or are absorbed in the 236, and ultimately through neptunium become plutonium. And the graphite was swelling badly in the reactors. It was a fairly low temperature thing in the reactor, and the power level was around 250 megawatts. I think that was the design level. They ultimately got to operating up over 1,000 megawatts, so that was a lot. But anyway back to the graphite. I would get samples made and little cylinders and get them shaped up by the machinists, and then we would irradiate them in the test holes in the reactors. I would work out at the reactors quite often. We would be putting samples in the test holes. Getting them out, putting them in, taking them out. And then I could measure the graphite samples, as to how much dimensional change they had made. And at that time, all of them grew slightly, very slightly. But in the full size reactor, it was enough growth that the reactor was beginning to really buckle. It sunk in the middle and grew on the edges, so that the process tubes which used to go straight through the reactor began to be a shape that started higher, sunk down in the center, and went out. And they got so bowed that eight inch slugs or fuel elements would not go through them. And they would charge them in for re-irradiation—or for their first cycle, they would almost not go through those process tubes. The process tubes were aluminum. They were surrounded with water which cooled them, and the fuel elements then did its thing, fission, and made all this heat and fission products and stuff that we're still trying to get rid of here at Hanford. But that was really fun because it was day shift, it was not doing analytical chemistry. And I was working with more people who—well, all of the tech grads who did analytical work were really fun, but it got me in with the crowd, like John Fox as a matter of fact. And it just seemed more like what it was supposed to do with my life—a highbrow chemist in a research setting. But with my bachelor's degree, that wasn't the best preparation for highbrow scientific work. And I did some artwork back in those days. It was always a phase of mine. And when I got my chemistry degree, I really wished that I had gotten a bachelor's in fine arts, but I knew that would pay for nothing. [LAUGHTER] So I decided, well, to make it in fine arts, I better do something. So my wife and I got married, and we went off to Mexico where I produced a portfolio of artwork. It was a good enough to get me into one of the best commercial art centers in the country. It was called The Art Center in Los Angeles, California. And there again, I loved it. But I lasted about, oh, four months, I’ll say, into the first quarter. I was doing very well, but the people who were assigning the work would hang over you. And they would evaluate what you did, and they would find it lacking, because it wasn't as professional as they were. And so I enjoyed it though, but I thought, if I'm going to have a wife and maybe a family, I’d better earn a living. So I called my old boss at Hanford. Said, you know this art stuff isn't really working for me. Is there anything back there that I could do? He said, well, come on back, Wayne. So I joined the Graphite Group again briefly, but they let me interview around until I found something that would be a more likely career, something that would actually let me promote in career and stuff. And I joined a job—joined a group called the Programming Group, and it was the first of an outfit being put together that looked at the whole plant's operation. And they were responsible for resolving all of the programs that were going on. So we did the report writing and the final merging of all of the Plutonium Recycle Program, was the primary source of this stuff. And the plutonium recycle program went on from about--I'm going to say '58. I was married '58, so this would be '59. And as a matter of fact, again, joining with John Fox, who was one of the designers of the PRTR. And we were, at that time, probably rooming together in old Bauer Day house which were the first nongovernment owned houses in Richland. Spokane built of an outfit called the Spokane Village, which are the—oh, what would you call them, honey? The houses along George Washington Way, between it and Stevens north of the old Uptown area, those white, two-bedroom, three-bedroom buildings with white, I suppose, asbestos shingles and stuff. Anyway, where am I going from here? You can cut for a second.
Bauman: You were talking about rooming.
Snyder: Yes, thank you. Yes. And so Gerry McCormick and Fox and I got together, and we decided we'd rent one of the Bauer Day—we would rent a Richland Village house. But they would not rent to single people, so we tried the Bauer Day place. And they said, yeah, we'll rent you a house. So we got together. And I worked for Graphite Group, and Gerry was in chemistry on the separations process. And Fox was designing the PRTR. And we just hit it off well, and we were--not to brag, but we were one of the classy bachelor quarters in town. So now I'm preceding my art career, but before going there I was working in this stuff, having all this fun. We'd have--I was day shift of course—weekends off. John and Gerry were, and we'd have parties with 30 some people or so attending. And lots of people came, because we would have lots of hard liquor. And just had a good time generally. So that lasted for a while, but then when I got married, I came back, joined this programing group that I talked about earlier, got involved in the whole site more or less, and reported to a pretty high up guy, Larry McEwen. And he thought that I would be able to help publicize Hanford to the public. I would put together a small exhibition center, a room that showed the process in its entirety, and add some examples of fuel elements and various solvent extraction columns and things like that. And that was really fun, and I enjoyed it. And reported to Larry, and this was right reporting to Herb Parker who of course became the head of all the laboratories. But, another kid, Art Scott, and I were asked to help him write his annual talk, and so we met with Herb which was quite high level thing for us. And we scraped and bowed and did the appropriate things and came together with a script that he could use for the big annual meeting.
And he would go through it, and he would laugh. And he would say, we don't say things like, further on in the evening we will get into. He said, that would kill the talk right there. People are bored and no way would they like to hear, longer on at some time, while they still sat there. But any way, Art and I did okay. And he then joined an outfit called measurements, which was all new in those times. It was a group assigned to measure the progress of the company. How well were they doing? Were they meeting program requirements? And he did that. And I joined--left the Programming Group. And my boss there Kelly Wood said, Wayne, you're going nowhere. He said, you're going to have to do something else if you expect to have a career. And at that time, an offer came up from the technical information crowd. Chris Stevens was manager of a technical library, and they did this work called reviewing reports for declassification. And so it sounded pretty good, and it was more permanent. And so I joined that group, which was much more of a service job again. So I discovered my real career was in service work; it was not in science and engineering and research and that kind of stuff. And so I got over, and I joined Chris Stevenson, and this is a group of about 35 people in the Technical Information Group, most of which processed all of the technical reports that were created at Hanford. We had the technical library, which provided all of the technical information from worldwide scientists and engineers would need. And I reviewed these new technical reports for the appropriate classification: could they go out unclassified, or should they be confidential, or should they be secret? And everything at Hanford was born secret. Unlike the Department of Defense, which wrote stuff and then decided whether it was sensitive, here stuff was sensitive, period, before it was reviewed and allowed to be unclassified. So I would review all of these reports, as boring as they were, and identify things would have to be deleted in order for them to be unclassified. And most of them were high technical reports. They were not about the production programs. They were not about how much plutonium was produced and things like that. It was about the Plutonium Recycle Program; it was about advanced research in materials; it was about lots of interesting things. And so I sort of acquired a knowledge of things that were going on around the whole site, mainly research.
Bauman: About what time frame was this that you were doing this?
Snyder: Time frame? This would be 19--this was about 1980, I think, when I interviewed with Chris Stevenson and was hired into this Technical Information Group. And that was my career then. I had worked at Hanford for seven years before going to Art Center, and I worked for them for a couple more years, from 1950 and joined the group in 1960, the Programming Group. And so this would have been '63, I think, was when I joined Technical Information Group. Am I off on dates here badly? I hope not. Anyway. It was kind of boring, but I was the classification officer, did all this reviewing, and gained some awareness of how important the information was that supported a technical outfit like Hanford was, partly research and a lot of production stuff. And progressed in that far enough to where when Chris Stevenson resigned, other than just being a reviewer of reports or classification, I became a candidate for running the whole thing. So I became manager of Technical Information section in 1963. And then Battelle Memorial Institute came in and got the contract to run the research parts of Hanford, and the work I was in joined Battelle. And that was, I think, 1965. Things changed a little bit with Battelle. It was a more behavioral kind of a company. GE had been very strict, very much old style corporation, very line management, very much more like normal business. And Battelle came in, and they were used to doing contract research. They would have people come in and say, we have this problem in our material studies for zirconium or something, could you help us solve this problem? So Battelle was used to doing the same kind of research as the Hanford laboratories, but on a much broader scale; more kinds of technology were looked at. And it was a good outfit to work for, and as a matter of fact, I retired from them in 1990. And I had progressed in the technical information work enough that I was really enjoying my job as manager of that outfit. There were about 40 staff members, I'd say, who reported to me, primarily women, but a few professional guys in the technical information work. That I—well, I enjoyed the women too, but the guys, at that time--I shouldn't say this--but were more important than the women, so you tended to associate with guys instead of women in the technical side. And very soon after that, probably ten years, women really came to the front of course in science, and they became bosses around here. But my work had primarily been in a more traditional work through my early career, and through a whole different kind of work as a manager of technical information, being responsible to provide all of the current ongoing world information in science and technology to the Hanford scientists and engineers for their needs in conducting their programs. So that was a very satisfying thing to do, and it acquainted me even further with all of the kinds of things that were going on at Hanford, but without being responsible for making the reactors operate or making the research programs work and things like that. So that a good career. And like I said, I was married in '58, went off to Los Angeles--Mexico and Los Angeles--and then came back and spent the rest of my life, pretty much, in a technical information career. And it's been good.
Bauman: I would go back a little bit. You say when you said you first arrived, you lived in the dorm?
Snyder: Yes. At that time--
Bauman: Could you talk about that a little bit? Where was the dorm? What was the dorm like?
Snyder: Sure. Initially, the City of Richland of course was all government owned. DuPont had had set up, and followed by General Electric company, setting up dorms for single women who were working onsite, and dormitories for single men. And the dorms for men were called M1, M2, M3, M4, whatever. And the women's dorms were called W. What W to do with it? And I was in M9 for a short time. And the company decided set up this dormitory for the single tech grads, and they didn't have an empty men's dorm so they set aside one of the women's dorms, W21. It was built on what would be the parking lot of Albertson's grocery store right now, down on Lee and Jadwin. And that was where I met Fox and McCormick and all these other guys that I still see occasionally today. But it was a whole different style. It was amazing. How could guys be shunted off into a supervised dormitory, practically a continuation of your freshman year in college? We had a house mother even, who made sure we were behaving, not having women into our rooms, and things like that. [LAUGHTER] And today kids would just have a—they would up-rise against this kind of thing. But all of us were pretty pliable. And we were still earning a living. I did get above $52 a week, finally. But still not earning great bucks at that time. So the dormitories, they were $11.50 a month, and the beds were made daily by maids that came in and helped clean up our rooms a little bit. So it was--
Bauman: How long did you live in the dorms?
Snyder: I lived in the dorm for two years. And then that's when I joined the group in Bauer Day house, and became friends with—you know. It's amazing how many people who started then are still alive and still at Richland. And even today we'll get together with maybe 15 guys who were part of dorm W21, and three of which, we're really still close friends. And so--
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about, what was it like living in Richland during the 1950s? What was Richland like as a community?
Snyder: Okay. It was--the government township made people feel very irresponsible about—they would rent a house, but the government owned it. So you have--you just paid your rent, $30 a month or whatever and got the comfort of having all of your fuel delivered weekly. And I think you did pay for groceries and things, but the town had a little bit of a government town—a company town situation. And people were good—the higher level--it was supposed to be a community that was totally non-status. Workers, and top dog managers, and presidents would all live in mixed up neighborhoods. You might live next door to a plumber, and there might be an electrical engineer in the next one. But that never worked, and the highbrow executives of the site did get all the houses along the river, which was called pill and skill drill hill, which was the doctors, the dentists, and the executives. And the rest of the population got nice houses, and no problem with it. But again, they're all government owned, and everybody rented them. But came 1958, this government town was sold to the occupants. The government got out of being responsible for any landlord responsibilities or any government--any town operation. And it—my dog is barking, you hear [LAUGHTER]--anyway, it changed. People really owned their own homes. And property was opened up where you could buy property and build your own house. So instead of all this very much alike, six or seven different kinds of houses were built, a large number of them, you now owned them, so you took care of them. But new property was available so that you could build your own house. And that all happened in 1958. The town got a mayor. Fox's first predecessor was a lady named—I can't remember. It was more of a—there was a city council. The city council worked with the General Electric Company and the AEC people to start running our own city. And then in '58 when it was all sold, they literally became the honest government for the town. And they had to set up company-owned, company-operated—I mean privately owned, city-owned fire departments, police stations, and all that kind of thing. By that time, private industry had come in and built the large chain grocery stores like Safeway, and Albertson's, and all those. And the health business had been all company owned, but the Kadlec Medical Center was set up, and it was private again. You went to doctors who were your own. The initial facilities were very primitive. They were just like government military operations. The hospital where all my children were born was just an old clapboard building that could have been any army fort in the country. But it turned private, and it started building on an enterprise basis more so. I bought one of the lots a little bit north of town, and by that time, I had three children in the Bauer Day house. But we built a larger home up on--a block off from the river but--up on Enterprise, which still exists. And the home we built, we had an architect, and we contracted it out. So it was very much a private-type operation. It was not a development house or something. And we lived in that house until two years ago, until 2000—was that it? No, 2011. We had built our house, and we had lived in it then until, like I said, 2011. So it just became a regular community, a regular life. The whole country's looking at Hanford. It was very accepted when it was an important part of defense. We were building weapons as fast as we could to keep up with Russia. The whole Cold War lasted that long period of time, so it was very solid employment. But it was not looked at negatively like today. Today, Hanford being the biggest waste dump in the world is not thought of really highly by a lot of environmentalists and other people like that. [LAUGHTER] It's slowly being realized, but up until that time, it was very patriotic. People thought, yay, we've won the war. We'll continue to be safe; we'll have the biggest arsenal in the world, be able to maintain our security and safety. And then when that was no longer that important, and they shut down the Hanford plutonium operation, the taking care of all the waste products that had been created, stored in the big tanks, stored in crypts and things like that, became a negative to the environmentalists. And so then Hanford site is still accepted and known to be important, but didn't enjoy that win-the-war patriotism, everyone thought highly of you, type situation.
Bauman: I wonder about, especially during those early years in the 1950s, any community events that stand out, that you remember?
Snyder: Oh, yeah. There was no real social facility in the town. There was the VFW, the Veteran Foreign's where they had a bar and a dance place. The city itself provided a lot of recreation in the way of athletic courts, tennis courts, swimming pool, and that. But pretty much, you made up your own entertainment. And things were formed like the Dormitory Club, and they would go on hikes at least two to three times a month during the summer. And the Alpine Club would go on climbs. And the athletic events, the local softball teams and things like that went on. But pretty much you made--you used those facilities, but you were responsible yourself to. If you wanted to have a party, you had it in your home. You didn't have a party in some commercial facility. There were no real bars or things like that. There's one place I remember though. When the government sold off the town, and the facilities were no longer needed, people may remember what was called the Mart. And it was like the dining halls out in the Areas. It was a big facility that serve meals to the people who worked in town or people who were off shift and need to go eat. And so it was a huge cafeteria where food was served in great quantities at low price, but when the place sold off, that became pretty passé. You know, people were no longer interested in living like a company town. You're more interested in having clubs built and things like that. And so early on, this Mart building, which was an eating hall mostly, had in the back end of it a little bar with a guy whose name I forget, played a Lowrey organ. And those were the most popular thing in the world with Carmen Miranda and other such names who played that. So we would go down there and dance, or we would go there and have drinks and stuff. And the VFW was popular. And there were other places that got built ultimately. The—what was the Red Robin for a while was earlier on a V-named guy. Anyway, it was a regular commercial eating place. There were places to dance, and there were—something like that. So the early town was pretty much, do it on your—do-it-yourself with your own friends. You didn't get to do anything. A big thing though was the Richland Players, a community acting group, was initiated. And the Richland Light Opera Company, who put on pretty much Broadway musicals, came about. And they did really good work. And Richland Players—I can't recall the names of the plays—but some of the musicals that went on with Richland Light Opera were like Annie Get Your Gun, and Show Boat, the ongoing things. They still produce good plays and good musicals. So that was kind of a way to entertain yourself, and would we spent a lot of time supporting groups like that.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you also about things like Atomic Frontier Days or any things like--
Snyder: Oh, okay. When I first came here the Atomic Frontier Days was an annual celebration of the town, very much like any small Western town. And there was a parade, and there is a Miss Frontiers Day elected. And there was the beard growing thing, who could grow the biggest beard. And a little later on, it turned into the Water Follies, which was the whole Tri-Cities, and that was the beginning of the very big scale hydroplane racing, the Unlimiteds. And they raced on the Columbia right out of Kennewick. And so the Frontier Days folded totally, and Tri-City Days, or whatever it's called now, came into being, which is a much more lavish production, much more important.
Bauman: I know President Kennedy visited the Hanford site in 1963.
Snyder: Right.
Bauman: I wondered if you were onsite at the time, if you have any memories of his visit?
Snyder: Yeah, he came out to inaugurate the N Reactor. It was the first reactor that was not like the old original reactors that didn't produce any power or anything. The N Reactor both produced plutonium, but it also took the heat off the reactor operations with a big turbine and made electricity. And Kennedy came out—that was a pretty important thing nationwide, at least in the nuclear industry—and told people how great they had done and how important it was. And I didn't go out to it, but many of my friends did. And Kennedy was--everybody really liked President Kennedy—anyway, Democrats did. And I was a Democrat, so that made it one for one. And it was just a big deal. Earlier than that, other Presidents had done things out here, like—oh, the McNary Dam when it was built. I think it was President Eisenhower, may not--might have been a little later that--came out and dedicated that facility. And then even after that, we had President Nixon come and visit. And he landed in his helicopter in the new Battelle buildings, the Battelle research area, which was quite glamorous and very beautiful compared to the old facilities, and gave us a good spiel. And this was while he was still somewhat in vogue, you know, before the Cooks bit and Watergate and things like that. [LAUGHTER] And we all loved him, and we waved him off. And we were glad that he dipped his wings to show that he approved of the place. But so the site later on--and even early on with like the McNary Dam and things--had some national popularity, or some popular awareness at least. A lot of people really never did know of Hanford, and may still not, but at least it's a well--a better-known facility. And its purpose is, I hope, better understood by the public, creating an atomic bomb. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Are there any--were there any incidents, events, things that happened that--during the years working a Hanford that really sort of stand out in your memory?
Snyder: It doesn't pop into mind. That's not a good statement is it? [LAUGHTER] But it was pretty much an even-keel life for me. It just flowed nicely. You worked hard, you earned money. But you were not--you didn't become a national figure, and that was okay. It's just—it gave a whole bunch of us--I think the '50s were considered to be the best generation’s support that ever happened. It was a good time, and excuse me, a good time to live. I'm getting cracked up.
Bauman: I wonder what you consider, like, the most challenging aspects of working Hanford, and maybe the most rewarding aspects of working there.
Snyder: Of course rewarding was earning a living. A satisfaction in what you did, your coworkers, the local community—that was a big plus. No single event that stands out, like I won a Nobel prize or anything like that. [LAUGHTER] But very good, and so that was a very plus thing that stands out. Negative, other than some of the change of the environment, the Cold War ended, thank goodness, and our--the need for Hanford became less, so there was just some less feeling of being critical to the well-being of United States. We still feel it's very important, but not as critical as it was in early days.
Bauman: You talked a little bit earlier about the Cold War and the importance of being part of that, sense of patriotism.
Snyder: And earlier than the Cold War even. The Korean War, and there were still some wars going on, but no atomic as it was called in those days. No nuclear weapons were required.
Bauman: Right. Most of the students I teach now were born after the Cold War.
Snyder: Yeah.
Bauman: After the Cold War ended. And they have no memories of it, and know very little about it, so I guess my question would be, what would you like today's younger generation or future generations to know about working at Hanford, Richland during that period?
Snyder: I think to some degree Hanford has a negative connotation. And I guess I would like for it to be known--excuse me--Can we just cut it off for a second?
Bauman: That’s fine.
Snyder: Whoa!
Bauman: It's okay.
Snyder: I told Peg I might do this.
Bauman: Mm-hmm, it’s all right.
Snyder: I guess we can go on. I'll compose myself.
Bauman: Sure.
Snyder: Oh I was--I would like for it to be known that—I can't say it.
Bauman: Okay, it’s all right. We can skip to something else if you want. That's fine.
Snyder: I don't know. Excuse me. I have no idea why this is becoming so real.
Bauman: It's all right.
Snyder: Are you leaving, hon? Oh, aren't you going to go to the store?
Peg Snyder: Well, I can't get the car out, so we're just going to go a couple of blocks.
Bauman: Oh, my car’s in the way.
Peg: That's okay. We're going to go in a couple of hours.
Snyder: What's wrong with the car? What's wrong with the car?
Peg: They’re parked in front of the garage.
Bauman: We're parked on your driveway.
Snyder: Oh, okay.
Man one: But we can--I can move stuff if you want.
Peg: No big deal.
Snyder: Maybe—are we about wound up, do you think?
Bauman: Yes, I just had one or two items—one or two questions.
Snyder: I see. Well, I was trying to say, the acceptance of Hanford--the need for it--I would like to be known.
Bauman: One of thing I want to ask you about is, I understand you were very involved with the Richland Library.
Snyder: Not the Richland Library, no. The Technical Library at Hanford.
Bauman: Okay. That's what you were talking about in terms of the declassification.
Snyder: Yes. And the provision of technical information—books, reports, anything that provided that.
Bauman: Okay, great. All right. Anything that I haven't asked you about that you would like to talk about, that you think be important to talk about?
Snyder: No, I think I pretty well covered my relationship at Hanford. It's been a good one. And you've done a good job.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you for talking to me today and letting us come to your house--
Snyder: Oh, sure.
Bauman: --and interview you. We really appreciate it.
Snyder: You're more than welcome.
Bauman: Thanks for--
Northwest Public Television | Smith_Bob
Bauman: I'm going to start by just maybe having you state your name first.
Smith: That's Robert Lee Smith. I usually go by Bob.
Bauman: Okay, and my name is Robert Bauman, and I'm conducting an oral history interview with Bob Smith on July 16th of 2013, and the interview's being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. And I'll be talking with Bob Smith about his experience working at the Hanford site. So I thought we'd start today by just asking you to talk about how you came to Hanford, how that happened, when that was, and what brought you here.
Smith: Well, it had to happen about 1951. My Kansas National Guard unit got called into federal service during the Korean War, and we wound up at Fort Lewis. So one day, a friend and I were hitchhiking into Yakima, and this car, Oldsmobile station wagon--looked like a brand new one--pulled up to give us a ride. So we got to asking him questions about, well, gee, you must have a nice job to afford a car like this. Yeah, I've got a pretty nice job, he says. Well, what do you do? He says, I'm a guard over at the Hanford Atomic Works. I says, well, where's that? He said, oh, it's 80 miles down the road. We weren't bashful about asking questions, so we says, well, how much do you make? He says well I make $100 a week. $100 a week? Wow. I had just left Pittsburg, Kansas at a job at $30 a week as a clerk typist. So I thought to myself, I want to check that place out. So eventually I did. I wound up as a clerk when they were building the K Areas, not making $100 a week, but I was making $60 a week.
Bauman: And did you have any idea of what Hanford was at the time?
Smith: I had read a short article in the newspaper, I think, over at Fort Lewis, something about they had atomic energy work going on here, and it was secret, and it got my imagination, my curiosity up. I thought, I'm going to have to check that place out. So I eventually did.
Bauman: And what were your first impressions of the place when you first arrived to work?
Smith: I thought it was a real nice place. I got here on June 8th in 1953. And the weather was nice and clear and really nice. I saw the Rattlesnake Mountain off of the site, back over there, and I thought, man, that's really pretty. We didn't have any mountains like that back in Kansas. So I was living at the dormitory, so I would run out in the morning and catch a bus, take me to the bus lot, and then from the bus lot I'd go out to 100-K Area. So anyhow, I was very impressed with the area around here.
Bauman: And so what was your first job? What sort of job were you doing?
Smith: It was a clerk typist out of 100-K Area, when they were building the K-East and K-West Reactor. It was back in 1953.
Bauman: And so which contractor?
Smith: General Electric.
Bauman: General Electric.
Smith: Yeah, General Electric Company.
Bauman: Okay, and you said you lived in a dormitory when you first came?
Smith: Yes, mm-hmm.
Bauman: And where were those at the time?
Smith: It was where Albertsons Grocery Store is now on Stevens--Stevens and the Lee Boulevard.
Bauman: And it was an all-men dormitory?
Smith: Well, it had a W-21, which stood for Women's, but there were two dormitories in there that had men in them, but they started with a W because eventually they thought they would be women's dorms. But they had more men than women, I guess, so I wound up in W-21.
Bauman: And how large was the dorm?
Smith: Just like any college dormitory, actually--two story, stairs on the outside you could go up, as well stairs inside--typical college-type dorm.
Bauman: And how long did you live in the dorm then?
Smith: Well, I lived in the dorm until I got married in 1954. I got married in May of '54, so. While living there, they eventually transferred me up to M-1 dormitory, which is up close to Jadwin and Symons, something like that. Because—for some reason, maybe they had sold their area to Albertsons. I don't know. But I eventually moved up there. So I was there about a year.
Bauman: Okay. And then after you got married, where did you move at that point?
Smith: Well, we got an apartment over in Kennewick, but we were only there for about week before our names came through. We had put in for a house to rent in Richland, because it was still a government town at that time. And we got a B house at that time at 1413 McPherson. So being over this one bedroom basement apartment in Kennewick only lasted about a week, so we moved into the Richland B house.
Bauman: And what were your impressions of Richland at the time? What sort of community was it?
Smith: I thought it was real nice. It had the downtown section and also the uptown. The uptown section was fairly new at that time. But I thought it was very good.
Bauman: And you mentioned Richland was a government town. Do you remember any special community events--parades, any of those sorts of things during that period?
Smith: Not too many—being a government town, why, you did the job that you had to do. Well, they did have this music group that had opera singers and plays that you could go to and take part in choruses, singing. So I did join the Richland Light Opera Team for maybe one year and did a little singing there. But that was only for a few months, until I met my wife, and then I lost interest in singing. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And at some point, Richland I guess, gains independence, I guess, or whatever you want to say. Do you remember anything about that period and that process at all?
Smith: Yeah, that was around 1957 when that happened. And being in a B house, which meant there was a family on each side, the people that were there ahead of us had the opportunity to buy the house, but they didn't want to buy it, so they asked us if we wanted to buy it. Well, didn't have enough money to buy anything, so we said, no. So they went ahead and bought it, and we just stayed there. The rent for the General Electric time was $37.50 a month, and we continued paying that for about a year, and then it went up to about $50 a month. But that was still pretty reasonable at that time.
Bauman: So you mentioned you started as a clerk typist in the K Area, right? At some point you moved in to Health Physics. Is that right?
Smith: Yes.
Bauman: How did that happen, and when did that happen?
Smith: Well, by the time my year was up as a clerk typist, I had a chance to move into a job at a little bit of pay. The job was called field assistant, but it was half clerical typing job, and the other half of the day would be radiation time-keeper following J. A. Jones personnel around, minor construction, keeping time on them—radiation time in radiation zones to make sure that these construction workers didn't receive more than 300 MR in a seven-day period. Because in those days, although we had dosimeter pencils, they were not the self-reading kind where you could just look up at the light. What they would do is at the end of the day, you would drop your badge and pencils in a rack, in this case, 200 West Area and then go home for the night. Well, they had what they called pencil girls that would come out on swing shift, and they would collect these badge and pencils, and they would read these pencils. They had a manometer upstairs above the guard house, and they would stick these pencil in the manometer. It would read how much radiation it had collected. Then they'd put them back with the badge and put them back in the rack. So the next morning when you came, you'd pick them up again. Well, my time as a radiation time-keeper was up to me to keep track with pencil and paper about how long they could stay in the radiation zones, depending on how high the radiation dose was. As a radiation time-keeper, we'd accompany radiation monitors--they called them Health Physics Technicians--everywhere the construction guys went. And they would tell us the reading, and we would calculate how many minutes they could work in that zone. And then when they would leave that zone and go to another one, then we'd calculate that. So we did that for the full eight hours a day. Well, at least four hours a day. Half the day I might spend as a clerk typist writing up construction schedules for the--we had a General Electric engineer and also a J. A. Jones engineer. So they would write up the schedules, and I would type them up for the first half of the day, and the second half of the day, I would go keep time on the guys in the radiation zones for about half a day. So I did that from 1954 to 1959, and then I had a chance to transfer into radiation monitoring, which I did. And I worked in that job from '59 until I retired in '93.
Bauman: Oh, okay. And so when you moved to radiation monitoring, what did that mean in terms of your sort of everyday job? What sorts of different things would you be doing?
Smith: Well, we would go with the operations personnel, like operators or maintenance people, and accompany them on jobs and find out how much radiation was in the area, and then go in there with them and stay with them, in a lot of cases, as long as they were in the zone. And then sometimes we could set the job up if the radiation was not going to increase or decrease, then we would leave the job. But oftentimes we would have to stay with them because they would move from one place to another. So we were kind of following construction people and operations engineers—everybody that had to go in a radiation zone. We'd either go ahead of time and check the readings off and take smears--some floor smears and air samples and that sort of thing--to make sure they were within the limits of a the Hanford project.
Bauman: So you worked in various places throughout the site.
Smith: Yeah, I worked at--eventually over the period of time, I was in that job at all nine reactors at the Hanford project. And also I worked three separations buildings, PUREX 200 East Area, D Plant in 200 East Area, and also at the REDOX. When I was a radiation time-keeper, partly I kept time on the construction people because they were building a crane viewing room in the REDOX, so I did work there also as part of my job as a time-keeper.
Bauman: And I imagine, given the number of years that you worked there, that were a number of contractors that you worked for over the years.
Smith: Yeah, General Electric left about 1965, so about that time I had a chance to transfer over to the 200 Areas at an outfit called Isochem had the contract. And they only did that for about a year or two, when they left and turned their work over to Atlantic Richfield. And Atlantic Richfield did it eventually until Westinghouse eventually took over. In between those periods there, I also worked at Douglas Labs, which is out on North George Washington Way. And I did the same type of work, except I also was taught how to irradiate TLD badges because TLDs took over the place from film badges. So I would issue these badges for all workers for Douglas Labs, which was, at that time, probably less than 100 people. And I worked at that from about '73 until '76, when Exxon bought the building for Douglas Labs, and then I worked for them for about another couple three years. So actually I was gone from the Hanford project for about five years there, roughly--two and a half for Exxon, and two and a half for Douglas Labs.
Bauman: Okay, okay. Now, at some point, the mission of the site changed from production to clean up. Did that impact your job in terms of radiation monitoring in anyway, and if so, how so?
Smith: Yeah, some things did, all right. About 1987, all the reactors were shut down except N Reactor. And then they decided to shut N Reactor down '87. But they still had a lot of fuel elements left in the basement at N Reactor. Sometimes they would ship those few elements over to K Areas for storage. But they needed to be processed to make plutonium. Even though they were going to quit making plutonium, they should've dissolved these fuel elements and got rid of them. Instead they just let them store in the K areas for several years. And that was too bad, because eventually K Areas had to get those fuel elements out of there and send what's left of them over to T Plant, what they call T Plant now, for storage of some of the stuff that's left. So it made a difference in the kind of radiation monitoring you did. You didn't have to go into operating reactor buildings. Eventually, I transferred into what they call a D&D group, which was Decontamination and Decommissioning, which meant I went around to all of the old shut down reactors with operators. Well, they were called D&D workers at this time. We would go with them and make sure that there was no radiation around, take smears of the floor. About the only thing left in them would be radon, so we'd check for that. Sometimes we'd run onto a rattlesnake in these old shut down buildings. And one that really surprised once--we went to 105 C Reactor, and we saw this rattlesnake curled up underneath an old maintenance room. And the operator said, darn, the last time I killed rattlesnake, the environmentalists really got on to me. I says, okay. Well, it was on Friday afternoon, so I said--we had a radio, of course. So I said, I'll go out in the radio car and radio the office and see what the supervisor wants to do. So I did, but the supervisor had left early to go to town, so the assistant was there. I say, what do you want us to do with this rattlesnake? We hadn't killed him yet. [LAUGHTER] And I took a camera with me from the pickup. And he says, well, use your own judgment. Well, our judgment is we're going to run into that thing again in a month from now, and I didn't want him to be surprised and bite me. So I took a shovel in with me, and I handed it to the operator and says, do you want to kill him, or do you want me to do it? He says, I'll do it. So he took the shovel and whacked the head off of this thing. So after a few minutes there we got ready to leave. He scooped up the head on a shovel and carried the tail with his hand. And he went on outside to C Reactor, and he threw the tail over the roadway out into the desert. But the head, he laid down on the concrete there in front of the entrance to C Reactor. He says, let me dig a hole here to bury this head. We didn't want a coyote or something to eat that head and die of rattlesnake poison. So while he was digging that hole, one of the other D&D operators, who had a safety-toed boot on, took his boot and gradually moved it up towards that head, and this was after that thing had been killed for about ten or 15, 20 minutes. And that snake, much to our surprise, his head came up about six inches off the ground, came down, and his teeth had latched around fangs on that guy's boot and snagged the top of it for about an inch. And man, I'll tell you, the three of us looked at each other and says, did you see what I saw? We had never seen that before or heard of it. So that surprised us to no extent. So anyhow, that was one of the exciting jobs.
Bauman: That’s quite a story. What a surprise. Yeah, wow. So I was going to ask you--you were involved with a lot of radiation monitoring. So if a worker was exposed too much, their pencil or whatever showed--what happened at that point then for the worker?
Smith: Well, we had a limit of 300 MR per seven-day period, and as a radiation time-keeper, when the worker reached that point, why, we would go in and pull him out of the zone and tell him, that's it for the week--300 per week. Also, we had a limit of 50 MR per day to start with. So whenever they reached 50 for that day, we would pull them out. The next day they'd go in for another 50. But they would do that until they got 300 in a seven-day period.
Bauman: In reading the information from an interview you did ten years ago or so, it talked about that you had been involved in creating a tube that was uses to pinpoint the area of contamination. Do you want to talk about that a little bit?
Smith: Yeah, we had what we called a P-11 probe, a Geiger counter. And what we did was, in a process of surveying our people, this P-11 probe was about two, two and a half inches in diameter. I think I've got a copy of it. Anyhow, I would lay this piece of paper down on whatever was contaminated. If it was the bottom of a shoe, we would survey that shoe and find the hottest spot on that shoe, and then we would mark it, a pencil mark around the P-11 probe. So it was a round circle for the hottest spot. And then I would—in my days as field artillery in the army, I used to be work on fire direction center. So we would be fire forward and fire backwards. I thought, well, maybe I could use this P-11 probe like that. So I got the hot spot, and then I would move the P-11 probe down, and then I would draw a circle around it--below it. And then I would go back and find the hot spot and move it to the right, and move it until the radiation went away. Then I would draw a circle around that. Then I would take it up above and do the same thing there and off the left-hand side. So when I got through, I had a spot in the center of it about the size of your thumbnail, and that would tell us where the hotspot was on the bottom of the shoe or whatever you were decontaminating. So that saved you some time in decontaminating. Like on the bottom of a shoe you'd use sandpaper or emery cloth, something like that to clean it off, or masking tape or duct tape. So that kind of helped me anyhow—just tools of the trade.
Bauman: Right, and when did you develop that? What time frame would that have been?
Smith: Probably around 1970. At that time, I was going over to CBC. I used to be an awards chairman for the Health Physics Society years ago, and my job was to contact the instructor for a nuclear technology class for the CBC and find out who we could give a scholarship to--$500 or something like that. So this guy called me up one day. He says, Bob, we need to have somebody in your group to come over and give radiation monitoring classes to our students because they were learning how to be operators in the reactor buildings or radiation technicians. I said, sure, I could do that. He had gotten his experience from the Navy. He was a Health Physics technician, or they called them something else in the Navy. And he says, we need somebody over here to help them out and teach them. Could you do that, or could you find somebody? I says, yeah, I could probably do that. So I contacted my manager, and after six months or a year, they give me permission to go over there and do that about once a month. So I would go teach you one or two hours in the morning and another one or two hours in the afternoon. So that's what I thought about this thing here, which I had done out of work--finding little hotspots and then bringing them down to a small area. So that's about the time that I was doing that, and so I passed it on to the students so they would know, too.
Bauman: So it was sort of the teaching the students that led you to sort of thinking about that and developing that process?
Smith: Yeah, some of those students--in the summertime we would hire maybe five or six of them to come out at N Reactor as interns for the summer, because we were shut down for about a month or so for all the repairs and stuff. So we'd hire some of these students to come out and go around with us and learn jobs. So that at the end of that summer, if the company wanted to hire some of them, they could hire one or two or all six of them. So that kind of worked out good for both of them. And then they shut that teaching job down several years ago because the contractors at Hanford quit hiring people because we were starting to shut down reactors and laying people off. So if there's no need for them, then they quit teaching it. But then here, about two years ago, they started up that program again. I don't have anything to do with it. But they do teach them now three jobs, either a radiation operator type job or health physics technician type job or as an instrument technician job. They can go three different ways, so that's a good program at CBC right now. It's kind of like nuclear technology. It's a two-year program.
Bauman: And about how long did you teach classes?
Smith: About ten years, from about 1970 until about 1980.
Bauman: Mm-hm. And in reading about this, it sounded like you also were instrumental in developing a scholarship program at CBC?
Smith: Yeah, I noticed that we always had white persons. There was never any blacks, and not even many Latinos either. So one day I asked Larry, I said, how come we don't ever have any Afro-Americans in here? He says he didn't know. So I went to the guy in charge of Afro-Americans over there hiring people, and he says he didn't know. And I thought, well, probably the reason is they were just like I was when I was getting out of high school. I didn't have any money to go to college. So I says, maybe we should start up--maybe the college could do something. So I thought, well, we ought to have an auction. So we had an auction there at CBC, and we had all the kids in the class bring things to donate and put out to sell. And we advertised it, sent information around to a bunch of companies. And I met about seven or eight companies to see if they wanted to donate equipment for it, which they did. But the day of auction came along, and I don't think we even had six people show up to buy anything. So, I says, well, we'll leave this equipment here, and CBC can have an auction some other time and maybe they'll collect more money, which they did. However, we had a guy that was pretty high up in the company for Westinghouse, and he was attending meetings over there. And one day I went to the building over there, and I saw all these, three or four or five other companies, not Westinghouse, that had plaques up on the wall that they donated $5,000 from one company, $10,000 for another company for scholarships. And so one day, we had a fellow that was pretty high up in Westinghouse stop by our building out there for a safety meeting one day. I says, we're going to have an auction, and it would be nice if Westinghouse could donate some money towards this thing and hire these minorities. So he took that information into the vice president of Westinghouse, and they okayed it. And I says, it'd be nice if we had four $1,000 scholarships to give to these kids. So they came up with that for that year. However, the next year, they came up with $28,000 for scholarships. So that was--the guy who was in charge of all safety for Westinghouse at the time sent me a note and said this was coming off. So that made me feel pretty good that Westinghouse did do that because all these other companies had done something. But they followed through with it, which was great.
Bauman: So you worked at Hanford from the 1950s into '93. Is that what you said?
Smith: Yeah.
Bauman: With some years in between there when you weren't.
Smith: Right, from about--well, at Hanford from '53 until '93, but I was a radiation monitor from '59 until '93.
Bauman: Did the technology change quite a bit in terms of radiation monitoring over those years, and if so, how did it change?
Smith: Well, yeah, they got better instrumentation down at--Battelle did some of our reading of our badges and this sort of thing. So their instrumentation got better as the years went along. And the same with our Geiger counters. They went from the old style to ones with P-11 probe. Nowadays, I'm not sure they even have a P-11 probe. It might be two long probes that they could use either one for beta, gamma and alpha. Before, we just had the P-11 probe for Geiger counter, and for an alpha meter, we had the probe for alpha--two separate ones. So yeah, the instrumentation did change.
Bauman: I was also going to ask you during years--well, Hanford was obviously—emphasized security, and I was wondering, especially when you started in the 1950s, what that was like in terms of security? Did you have to have special clearance? When you went to the site, did you have to go through special security or anything along those lines?
Smith: Yeah, I did. When they originally told me, while I was still the Army, there would be several weeks for them to check on my clearance, I thought, okay, several weeks. Well, as it got closer to discharge time, I thought, man, they haven't contacted me, so I better go down to Fort Lewis and check on civil service jobs. So I did, and I had qualified for two jobs. One was a warehouseman because I had worked six years in a grocery store, and the other job was a billing, clerk typist, in the transportation department. So I stayed there from December of '52 ‘til June of '53. But I got so tired of driving the fog and the rain over there around Fort Lewis and Seattle-Tacoma area that I just got sick of it. I had an old 1940 Ford. The heater didn't work, and the defroster didn't work either. So I'd have to drive about half way out and scrape the ice off the outside and the inside. And one day, I was cleaning out the back of it, and I saw all this mold in the backseat. I said, holy cow, the thing didn't warm up enough to dry that out. So finally I decided, well—I was kind of disgusted with General Electric for not notifying me. So although I didn't want to go back to Kansas because my mother and stepfather didn't get along too good. They fought like cats and dogs, and under no condition, no way did I want to live in the same house with them. So put off of going back there. I could have gone back to Pittsburg, Kansas, where they had a four-year college there. I could have lived at home, but I didn't want to stay there. So finally, I thought, well, I'm going to write General Electric a note. I didn't cuss them out or anything, but I wrote some wording on there that said, I thought you guys were honest in your estimations of how long it was going to take for this, but it's been so long. You said several weeks, and it's been several months. So I put that letter and mailed in my outbox at Fort Lewis, Washington. And when I got home that night, I found a letter in the mailbox from the General Electric Company and it said, from Zane Wood. He says, Bob, you've waited long enough for a job. We're ready for you now, so you can come on over. So I says, okay, I'll give my boss two weeks’ notice and come on over, so I did. But I was--clearances took an awful long time in those days.
Bauman: And when you started working, did you drive your car on site? Were you able to do that, or did you have to take a bus, or how did that work?
Smith: No, they had bus service around Richland that you could take buses down the sort of streets, and then you'd catch--we were leaving at the B house, so a bus would come by within about a block, so I'd catch my bus there, take it to the bus lot, and then we would get on the bus that went to K Area. And so I would get in there, pay a nickel for a ride out and a nickel to ride back home, and this was 1953. So I did that until I went into the radiation time-keeper job, and we had buses to 200 West Area then, all the areas, but you still just dropped a nickel in when you went in and a nickel when you came out. So I caught the buses there also. So mainly buses--they didn't get rid of the buses until about a year after I retired.
Bauman: I know President Kennedy visited the site in 1963 for the N Reactor dedication. I wondered if you were here at the time, and were you on the site that day?
Smith: Yeah, I was here at that time. I had two boys and a girl, so--and the wife. We loaded up in my station wagon and drove out to N Reactor and was there for his talk. And that was--I think there was about 40,000 people out there, too, so it took us an hour to get out of there with so many people. But that was an interesting time. I also went to Battelle one time when President Nixon came out here to dedicate something to Battelle. So I was able to see both presidents that way.
Bauman: Do you have--were there ever any events that sort of stand out in your mind, period of time working there, or any incidents of any kind or accidents or any sort of events that stand out in your mind from your years working at Hanford?
Smith: Well, one thing that kind of surprised me—about the time I was to retire in 1993, I used to go over to B Reactor whenever they would have out-of-the-country people for a tour of B Reactor. My manager at that time said that he would like for me to be in on the tours because I used to work there when it was an operating reactor. So in case they ask him, well, what was is equipment used for or that one, I could tell them a little bit about it. So I went over there once with about five or six Russians, and they wanted to look at B, so they were looking around there. So finally, one of them spoke up and said, well, since you're about to retire here in a few months, what's your lifetime radiation exposure? I says it's 66 rem. And he says, aha! Mine's 600. I knew—I figured they took a lot more radiation. I thought to myself, man, you must have been at Chernobyl or something. But they took a lot more than what we were allowed here at Hanford. Our limit—official—was 5 rem per year, to not include more than 3 R gamma. But they had a lot more over in Russia.
Bauman: What were some of the more challenging aspects of working at Hanford?
Smith: Well, sometimes as a radiation monitor, you were the only person that knew much about radiation and contamination on a job, so it was up to us. We had a limit of 15-mile per hour speed limit on wind. So it was always up to the monitor to decide whether or not to shut a job down or not. And I thought, man, that's a big responsibility, because some these jobs are pretty important. So I carried around a wind gauge underneath the seat of the pickup. And I thought, well, if necessary, I'll get that wind gauge out. Because it got so I could take a look at sagebrush, a light piece a sagebrush. I would take the wind gauge out and watch when the wind blow to see when that sagebrush would roll. And I thought, well, that thing's going to roll maybe 17 mile an hour, and the bigger piece of sagebrush would take a little more wind. So I had this wind gauge out at one job, and the wind was 16 miles an hour, so I shut the job down. Well, that went over like a lead balloon with the rigging supervisor. We were on a diversion box, BX tank farm. And he says, I'm going to call up your boss, Bob. So he did, and my boss came out. By then, the wind had stopped, but I hadn't said anything about you could go back to work. And he says, Bob, how come you shut the job down? I says, well, it says on RNWP 15 miles an hour. Here's the wind gauge--16. He says, well, it doesn't look like it's blowing now. I says, well, it's not. As far I'm concerned, they can start working again, so they did. But every once in a while, you would be challenged. Once again I was challenged. I was working with the D&D group. We were at 100 K burial ground. Sometimes the waste in the burial ground will either travel down deeper, or sometimes they could go up, or they can go to the left or to the right over a period of time. And we had a car—we had one monitor that would drive this SUV-type instrument around where it has radiation detectors on the front bumper. And he would drive over to the tank farm. Whenever it would have a spot above the limits, like the limits on the tank farm are maybe 100 counts a minute above background. Well, whenever he hit this limit, why, it would alarm. So they notified our group that they needed to go in and lay some more dirt down, so they did. They were doing this job, putting more dirt on top of the other dirt. And this engineer--they were running out of money for these truck drivers to do that. And he says to my boss in radiation monitoring, he says--we have to radiation monitors checking the tires of these trucks that were coming and going. And says, why not check every truck coming in and out, going in and out? Why not every other truck or maybe only two tires instead of all four? And I said, no, we can't do that. Because we had run into exactly that same problem at N Area once. It wasn't me, it was another radiation monitor. He had decided on zone that I'm going to start checking every other truck. Well, one of these trucks came up with hot tires from the N Area place, and he tracked contamination down the highway a ways, and that's not good. So I says, well, I'm not going to do that. So the engineer was so mad, he went up to my supervisor. And I guess my supervisor took word over to the manager of radiation protection for all of the 100 Areas at that time. And somewhere there, my supervisor had told me that, Bob, don't survey every tire, just survey some of them. And I was so mad at that, I said to myself, I can't do that. We go through a certification program that you don't compromise the situation. So I was all set to go back to work, but I was going to check all four tires. And just before I left, my supervisor came back and said, our top manager says, keep doing it the way you have--surveying all four tires, so we did. So once in a while, you'd run out of money on a job, why, upper management wants to change things, and you can't do that if you're—why, I had resisted that. I figured I might get laid off or fired or something, but it didn't come to that point, thank goodness.
Bauman: So then, what were some more rewarding aspects of your job and working at Hanford?
Smith: Well, one rewarding thing was the scholarships that the Westinghouse came up with. And the other rewarding job was just you knew in your own mind whenever you were doing something right, and there was always a temptation to take shortcuts, but a good monitor never did. Because we had friends did try that, and they got into trouble so. One time I got to note from two former operators I used to work with, and he said--I had been long retired since then, and they were working as ministers, and they sent me a note that said they had appreciated my job as radiation monitoring, that I was different than some of the others. Some of them seemed to not try to get along with other people, operators, and tried to be too rigid. And they thought that I had tried to do the right thing. So that made me feel pretty good, that even though you sometimes wonder, I thought that I did a good enough job.
Bauman: So overall, how would you describe or assess Hanford as a place to work?
Smith: I think it's a real good place. There are times when some people think that Hanford is—because it's got the most contamination the country, probably because we also made most of the weapons for Hanford, probably 65% or so of all the source of the bomb’s material. And I thought that people were trying to do badmouth the plant here too much. They also tried to badmouth Hanford DOE—or AEC, they called it in those days. But I didn't see it that way, because they were always trying to follow rules and regulations, and I thought they did a good job, and I thought Hanford overall did a good job.
Bauman: My students now, some of them anyway, were born after the Cold War ended. So they have no memory of the Cold War. They don't know much about it. I guess especially for people who are that young that really have no memory, what sorts of things would you like them to know about Hanford or working there?
Smith: Well, I think they need to know that, like I do, that I thought that Hanford did a good job of controlling radiation and the spread of it, because that was my job was to be one of the monitors out there watching these things and following the rules and regulations. So since I had a job in controlling it, I knew what was supposed to happen and what did happen. So I got to feel like most all the percentage of the time, Hanford did a pretty good job of it.
Bauman: Is there anything I haven't asked you about that you'd like to talk about or any specific memories, things that you'd like to talk about that you haven't talked about yet?
Smith: Well, yeah there's one of them that kind of bothered me a little bit. Back in 1966, we had a strike here at Hanford. And being in the radiation monitoring group—that was a union job. So we went on strike for about six weeks. During that time, I worked as a kind of a electrician helper down in California. California could not get enough electricians to work in their jobs. All their local people were busy, so they called around the country to get other electricians. Well, they wanted 20 from Hanford, but they could only get ten. So they says, okay, we'll take five instrument technicians and five radiation monitors, since we all belong to the same union. However, those radiation monitors have to have worked around electricians for at least a year, so they could help out as a helper. So my union steer called up one day and said, Bob, do you want to come by and drop your name in the hat and see if it gets drawn out for five guys to go down to Californian? I says, sure, so I did. And luckily enough I did, so I was down there for, well, it was a six-week strike. The first week we just stayed home. The next five weeks I worked down there. Well, when I got back—we would get these bottles, urine bottles, because they wanted to bring everybody up to date. Well, I'd been gone for six weeks, so I put my urine bottle out in front for the truck driver to pick up. Well, he picked it up, but a couple, three days later he came back again with some more of them. So I asked, well, how come I got some more urine bottles here? He says, well--he shouldn't have told me this because he's just a truck driver—but he says, well, I've had to redeliver several extra bottles around to different people. Because there was one guy over to 234-5 Building, where they were making plutonium buttons, that had gotten into an incident and gotten real contaminated. And they think that the bottles were washed—for me to do my sample in—well, mine were washed in the same batch that his were, and they cross-contaminated to my bottles. But that's just a rumor, they don't know for sure. Well, I did get notified by my manager at that time that I was giving an extra 5 rem of radiation because of those urine bottles. And I called him up and I says—Bill McMurray was my manager. I says, Bill, I wasn't even here at that time. How can I get that? He says, well, Bob, Battelle had done a lot of updating of their equipment, so maybe they got more sensitive equipment now than they did six weeks ago. I said, okay, Bill, whatever. But anyhow, they put that on my record, and it's been there ever since. They wouldn't take it off. So that kind of miffed me a little bit. That's one of the things you learn to put up with. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: All right. Anything else that you'd like to share, any other stories or memories?
Smith: Well, let's see. Not offhand. Things went pretty smooth, as far as I was concerned.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you for coming in today and sharing your stories and your experiences. I appreciate it.
Smith: Well, you're welcome, my pleasure.
Bauman: Thanks.
Northwest Public Television | Leitz_Emil
Man one: Whenever you're ready.
Laura Arata: We’re ready to go?
Man one: Yeah, yup.
Arata: Okay. So if we just start off, if I could have you say your name, and then spell your last name for us.
Emil Leitz: Emil E. Leitz, the last name spelled, L-E-I-T-Z.
Arata: Thank you. My name's Laura Arata. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. The date is November 7th, 2013, already, somehow. So I wonder if we could start just by having you tell us a little bit about how you come to Hanford, when you arrived here, so what your initial experience was like?
Leitz: Okay, I came to Hanford after I served my tour of duty during the Korean War. And I had worked for GE prior to going in the service, and they asked me where I would like to go back to work for them. And so I told them I would like to go the Northwest, and they said, well, Hanford is a place where we have some jobs. We'd be glad to place you there. So I came to Hanford. My wife and I were married at the time. We had one child. Hanford, to me, going first on the job, it was kind of old time I'd say. The ride to the area was by bus, but the buses were not air conditioned. They were, in the winter, very cold because the heaters were not very adequate. The assignment to the C Reactor was my choice after I had been here for a while. There were some other engineers who came in when I did. We each went our own ways. The trip, I mentioned, was by bus, but as also, we had to take our own lunches. We didn't have eating—preparation for food out in the areas. I was in the research and development organization as an engineer trying to, at that time, improve both safety and production. Something that was really, really emphasized, the importance for safety here at Hanford. And at that time, they were also wanting to increase production because we were in the big race with Russia to whoever could make the most bombs supposedly was going to be the winner of this Cold War. Well, after I worked for—well, the first assignment I had really at C Reactor was they were trying out a new fuel element, and that would cool the fuel both internal and external to the fuel. And it took a special spacer on the end to mix them. Now a spacer is something that positions the fuel in the reactor. And it would take a special one of these spacers to mix the fuel between the inner and outer cooling channels on the fuel. And it so happened that at C Reactor, once they got their reactor up and charged it, they couldn't get the reactor to run. We had every process tube, 2,003 of them--were monitored by a flow monitor. And that flow monitor, if the pressure exceeded certain limits, it would automatically shut the reactor down. And it just kept shutting the reactor down. And the plant manager, he wanted to abort the whole program. He says, it's common to all of the tubes, we just can't operate the reactors, so the fuel is a failure. And they asked me my opinion, and I said, it could very well be that we only have a very few tubes mischarged without that mixer spacer. Because I had them run some tests that showed that if that mixer spacer's in there, the pressure would be oscillating between the tube. And we couldn't identify at that time which particular tube was causing the problem. So that's what I told my management, and then two days later, the plant manager came into me, he was just livid. He said, you told the people that I was making a mistake in charging the reactor, that I was not controlling it adequately. And he said, I'm going to get your ass. That's just what he said. And I'm going to check every process tube in that reactor, and prove that you’re wrong. Well, they checked them, and they had seven process tubes mischarged. They corrected the charge, the reactor went up—operated perfectly. Never had another scram, so I didn't hear anything more from that manager. So it was kind of interesting point of view about my first assignment, and I got that kind of pressure from some of the managers.
Arata: How long did that take, to test that many process tubes?
Leitz: Oh, to load the reactor probably took six months or so. Because they would do, as the field became ripe, the old field became ripe--or ready for discharge--they would discharge, it was a couple hundred tubes, and then put new ones in. So that took probably two, three charges ‘til they—when they got--And I don't know when the problem first occurred to having these inadvertent scrams, but when I got there, they were ready to abort the load. And would have really reduced—they had to increase the flow into the reactor, and they could not really get full utilization. Those reactors originally were built for 200 megawatts—I think that's what it was--and they were all operating up around 2,000 then after they got these new fuel elements in and the new flow up. So ten times the power that they originally designed for. So there were really some big improvements. Along with this going on, it was in 1957 in Richland, they were going to sell the homes. They made a big—they were going to get out of the business of having houses, and a lot of the people were pretty leery. Hey, they're going to be shutting this down because most of them knew, oh yeah, we've got plenty of weapons. We really don't need all this plutonium for weapons. And so some people were very hesitant. They offered the homes at 75% of the appraised value of the house if you didn't want the buy-back clause. And if you paid full price, the government would promise to buy it back if something would happen that there was a real economic downturn in Richland. And I found this one guy who says, he was in no way ever going to invest in his buying a house in Richland. And I said, okay. A ranch house is appraised at $10,000, if you buy one, I'll pay you $8,500 for it. So it's appraised at $10,000, and I said, I'd pay you at $8,500. And you buy them in the no buy-back clause, and so that's how I bought my first house. I had been grinning. I couldn't get into one of the government houses, and they were about half the rent I had to pay in a commercial housing organization, which that time was warehousing. So that's kind of an interesting thing as far as living here in Richland goes. People are always a little bit leery about how long could they really want to continue to run those reactors.
Arata: All right.
Leitz: So the success there at C Reactor--and I was then reassigned to process standards and other jobs. And one night I wanted to start up when they had the approval to build the N Reactor, it was about 1962. I had been here, oh, seven years. They selected me to be what they called the startup engineer for the N Reactor. They had three tests. They had the N1s, which was for physics testing. You had the N2 and N3. The N2 just brought the reactor up in enough power that it could supply its own power for its turbines, and they could back off the boiler. They have a big boiler plant that would generate the steam that normally could drive the turbines. And then they would bootstrap it up. You'd get enough steam, and you'd start these big turbines up, and then you go on up in power. N Reactor was designed for 4,000 megawatts, so I had the job of designing—Now it was unique to any other reactor in the world, and a lot of people say, that reactor just isn't going to run. It's too complicated. It had only 1,000 process tubes, but it also was on recirculation, and no contamination left that plant. It was all--the water just recirculated, and then we didn't release the coolant to the river like all the other reactors that the water would go through the reactor and into the river and still have some radioactivity still left in it, so the N Reactor was a solution for that particular problem. So as they're prior getting ready for writing all those tests and starting of the reactor as assigned training mission aboard the Nuclear Ship Savannah. The Nuclear Ship Savannah was built as part of the Atoms for Peace under Eisenhower. And then that was kind of jointly N Reactor was kind of the same sort of thing, where we would have an Atoms for Peace. We had, instead of just producing plutonium, we also could eventually, if it was approved, add the power generation station. So the original testing of N Reactor went very well, on schedule, and they gave me this little award here, which is the general manager’s award. They didn't give many of these out. And actually, along with that I got a check that was about the size of another month’s pay, so when I was young and needed the money, that was very welcome.
Arata: We'll get a picture of that at the end for sure.
Leitz: So with that success then, we went ahead and I, during the lifetime of the N Reactor, I worked there a long time. The dual purpose construction was approved in May of 1965, and as a part of that dedication, President Kennedy came out and made a big dedication. And let me see, I think—yeah, 37,000 people came to hear the President speak here the first time Hanford was open up to the public. They had parked thousands of cars out there out in the middle of the desert. Kennedy came in a helicopter. Even though we had watered the ground down, it was just a cloud of dust because it was a construction site, and man, boy, you couldn't even see the helicopter when it was landing. And I had the big job of helping park cars and stuff like that at that time. That’s what it took an engineer to do. [LAUGHTER] It was kind of a fun day for everybody, I think.
Arata: Did you get to actually see President Kennedy going over his speech then?
Leitz: Yeah, oh, yeah. We got to really see him. Nobody got to shake hands with him, except a very few. I mean, they still have the podium somewhere that he talked from. That's still on display in the museum somewhere. So the first real problem that occurred at N Reactor that they couldn't solve. For some reason, we were having a lot of fuel failures. And some of it was due to equipment problems. Some of it was due to the way they were loading the tubes and that sort of thing. And they appointed me to hit up a task force to try and reduce the fuel failure rate. The fuel failure rate was something like one a month! And when the task force got done and made all these recommendations and they implemented them, we got it down to something like one a month. Now in doing that job, I decided I'm going to do it as a thesis for my master's degree in business. And so it was an operational analysis sort of thing. It was very successful, and I got my thesis paper written and that sort of thing, and that's in the libraries here somewhere. So that was very successful at Battelle. Then I got to be manager of the N Reactor Operations, and I always had to test everybody before they--I was part of a team that tested everybody before they would be certified. N Reactor was the first reactor at Hanford, at least, that certified ladies to be reactor operators. We had two or three ladies while I was manager of operations at the plant that became certified, which I was pretty proud that we didn't have this bias, women against men and that sort of thing. But after I got done, when I was manager I followed every startup personally to make sure they didn't mess up, that they were doing it right. And then I went into managing the safety for all the reactors that were left and fuels and so on and so forth. And the people in the plant operations were always trying to get me to do faster reactor startups. Because if you get the plant started up faster, you get to generate your electricity faster, and they say you could gain as much as a third of a day production by starting up the reactor fast. Well, when they asked me go back in and again--well the fuel failure rate went way up. Going up to better than one a month. And asked me to go again and examine what's going wrong with--how come the fuels are failing? And I said, because you're not really sticking with the original recommendation of controlling slowly and raising reactor power level. And no, no, no, we don't believe that. And so I said, okay, let's arbitrate it with Battelle. Battelle will analyze it. So they came in with their people who really understand stress and strains and all that kind of stuff. And they analyzed it and said that they were reactor startup rates that they were going at put ten times the stress on as a reaction scram would. So once they've, again, got control of their power rates going up again, the fuel failures went way back down again. So that was another one of the ways that I put a success on my career. In fact, we were there for a while. We were so erratic in the way the reactor would shut down and start up--is that the dams—if we would trip off, they would have to pick up the electrical load. And that one of the dams when I went to visit with the Corps of Engineers, back when I was taking some of my reserve training through the Corps of Engineers, I saw a sign, Old Faithful where the N Reactor power was showing. It was kind of interesting. It's interesting that when the first electrical energy was produced, three of the reactors had already been shut down. Now we always felt that N Reactor that N Reactor could just about replace the production of those three reactors. And so we weren't too worried about us getting shut down. But as we operated on through the years, we had all the reactors shut down by 1969, actually--yeah, by 1971, all reactors, including N Reactor, was shut down. And we started the big campaign to get to the Washington Public Power Supply system and/or now the Northwest Electrical Energy to give us better payment for our steams, and with the better rate on steam, we got people to then restart N Reactor under a better contract. So in 1971, after being shut down as a part of all the reactors, we were restarted and allowed to operate. We operated through—okay, and in 1971, when all the plants were down, we had another president visit. The only second president that I know that came to Richland, and that Nixon that came. And he'd give us the old pep talk about how he wasn't going to leave us all in the lurch here in Hanford. That we're going to have people like Pacific Northwest labs and so on and bringing the business, and there'd be plenty for us to do. Well, we did get N Reactor restarted and we operated then through—well, Mt. St. Helens erupted in '80 and in 1980, we had to do some upgrades to make sure that that sort of thing would not interfere with our operation. We got up to where we generated 65 billion kilowatt hours of electrical power, and then in 1987, after that achievement, we were shut down to make some safety improvements to improve our operation, make it more safe. And we never did restart from that. We were kept out. So at that time I was reassigned to the decommissioning work, cleaning up Hanford and being mainly involved in safety with the reactors. I became more involved then with making sure that the effort to decontaminate everything, and it was done within environmental requirements and within safety requirements. You had these big tanks of waste, and there's a potential that just by sticking a probe into a tank of waste, you can moderate the waste such that it could possibly even go critical like a reactor. So we had to examine everything they wanted to do--if they wanted to put a new pump in a tank or if they wanted to move the liquid around, if they wanted to stir the liquid, or if they wanted to use certain chemicals. And what would be your environmental impact? Where do you look for waste from the tanks? A lot of waste is just buried out there. Just if you wanted to get rid of radioactive waste, you go out and dig a hole and you put some waste--and you put it in there. And so recovering all of that and recovering that safely for personnel and for the environment is the job that I ended up doing for the rest of my career. So basically I had what I considered a pretty good career at Hanford. I really thought there were some good challenges, and I thought I made some pretty good contributions to operations at Hanford Project.
Arata: Is it okay if I ask a few more follow up questions?
Leitz: Pardon?
Arata: Can I ask you a few more follow up questions?
Leitz: Oh, you bet ya.
Arata: That was some good coverage of your time—
Woman one: There’s also some water there if you need it.
Leitz: No, I don’t need it. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: --And your working period. I wonder if you could talk to us a little bit more about on board the Savannah, and how that experience came about? I mean, what your experience on the ship was like and what its mission was?
Leitz: Okay. I could talk all day on that, really. But the first thing, we got on in Portland, Oregon. And we went out to the—the first thing I knew it is there a man came aboard the ship, the side, and he took over the control of the ship. He was a harbor pilot. And I didn't realize that. Why is that? And he said, well, because that particular bay going out into the ocean is noted as the graveyard for many ships because that's one of the worst entries into the ocean there as far as being rough and tricky, and it moved around. So you have to have a particular man who knows what's going on in that bay to help to get the ship out. So that was kind of interesting to find out that there are those kind of risks with running a ship.
Arata: And how would this come about? How had you gotten the invitation to be on the Savannah?
Leitz: Well, based on my experience. They stuck me to be a startup engineer, and they thought and felt I needed special training in high pressure, high temperature reactors. And there was an opportunity to get it, on a ship that used the same kind of a reactor that we had on the N Reactor except it was much, much smaller. It was toy one compared with the N Reactor. Let's see, is there really anything more about that? Oh, what they did is they selected the people on the basis of having one with the reactor at all times during the startup testing. So the four shift managers were selected. My boss's bosses were selected, and I was selected to get that particular training because they felt I would be writing the tests. I need to know about all of it. And they needed to have that experience on every shift. The top man in every shift was also on that ship. So it was kind of interesting, just as a sideline, five of them are Navy men, and I was an Army man, and I was kind of the butt of their jokes. You're going to get seasick, and we're going to all laugh at you. And we get into--after we went through the Panama Canal--and we all took some time off in the Panama Canal in terms of working extra before and after—but after we got to the Panama, we went into the Caribbean, and we did get into quite a storm. That ship was actually taking water over the bow. It would go down and go up and go down and go up. And I was out there watching that bow and then I went in to go and eat that night. And I couldn't find any of those other guys. Couldn't find a one of them anywhere. That was kind of a funny part of it is I was probably the only one, I don't think, that didn't get seasick. But it was a fun trip, and we flew back home from Galveston, then.
Arata: What route did the ship take while you were on it?
Leitz: Well, it went down the coast of South America in through the Panama Canal into the Caribbean and into Galveston, Texas, yeah.
Arata: How long were you aboard?
Leitz: 30 days. It was a nice cruise. Really it's one of the best vacations I ever had. [LAUGHTER] Except they had us do a study, but I didn't mind the study at all.
Arata: I wonder if I could have you talk just a little bit--you did a lot of work on safety and security. Could you talk a little bit about if you had to where any special protective clothing in what you did or maybe what sorts of standards you set for other people to follow?
Leitz: At one time I was a manager, in fact, of first-hand safety, but only safety in the context of security and that sort of thing. At one time, they had a big upgrade at Hanford for security, and I was in charge the upgrading. But as far as personally, I went into the reactor sites many times and had do the special clothing. If there's any chance of air contamination, you had to have respirators on. And to get out of a radiation area, you have to go to two step-off pads. The first one you just get your clothes off on it. And the second one then, they check you in, and you can come on out. But you had radiation monitors check you any time you come out of a radiation suit and instruments, you put your hands and feet on them and a special clothing.
Arata: Were there ever any incidents that you recall? Anything either humorous or a little bit scary or anything like that?
Leitz: Well, some that aren't too finicky. One of the K Reactors, when they started it, they had a new physicist, and he held a high period. I don't know if you realize, a 30-second period when you're at watts, you aren't really increasing power real fast, but if you keep that 30-second period when you’re up in megawatts, then it's very, very rapid, increasing power. And then it was the startup of one of the Ks, this new physicist had him hold that 30-second period until the reactors scrammed out from these [INAUDIBLE] trips. Now one thing I could mention is that the change in technology has really changed. Back at C Reactor, we didn't know which tube was causing the scram. With the N Reactor, we knew everything going on, every tube. And we used to have to take our data downtown, in an automobile, we'd punch it out on key cards, and we'd take it down and punch those into a computer. And we'd get the limits back, we'd go back to the reactor and say, okay, you can raise power. And then we would go in and get some more limits and back and forth between town and back. And that took a long time ready to start up because that N Reactor, you had instantaneous information. You knew right along just exactly how every tube related to its limit, pressure and temperature. So we went from analog kinds of systems to digital kinds of systems, just the same thing you see in your TVs or your telephones, the same kind of thing happened at the reactors as far as computerization and technology. So that was really an enhancement.
Arata: Were there any aspects of your work that you found sort of the most challenging or the most rewarding? You had several different jobs.
Leitz: [LAUGHTER] Well, I think the most rewarding was where I faced up a couple managers [LAUGHTER] and won the battle.
Arata: During C Reactor?
Leitz: But there's some worry to our time in that too, you know, what if I'm wrong? But it turned out all right. And I think that's part of the reason that I was really considered the one man who knew the most about the reactor. I didn't know everything, but I probably knew more than most people about there. Because I started it up, I lived with it to its life, and I got the picture kind of as a reward for when I retired.
Arata: Is anything that was the most challenging, maybe to work through in your time at Hanford?
Leitz: I think when I think of the operation N Reactor, I think it was the most challenging job I had. Because that one required, like I said, I went with all the startups. And that's when I was a process engineer with the reactor. When they had problems, they'd call us at night and that sort of thing. But with N Reactor, it was kind of more volunteer, but to know—and some of the shift managers were pretty hesitant on their own to make decisions. And I think that was probably the most challenging job was the operation of one of those big reactors—or that single big reactor and knowing when or when not to say, hey, you've got to shut down, or you don't have to shut down. And the controls even at N Reactor on the environmental controls, you can let down water into a crib—into a spill cooler if you wanted to, and even that was very, very--it had to be done without radiation released into the environment. And there's a real, real difference in attitudes over the years of environmental control and making sure you did not release isotopes into the environment. Really had differences in attitudes.
Arata: Yeah, I understand that the Chernobyl incident had a big impact on the decision to finally close N Reactor, to not restart N Reactor. Do you have any thoughts?
Leitz: Well, N Reactor is a graphite moderator reactor. And Chernobyl when they raised power level fast, their graphite coefficient was different than N Reactor. N Reactor, if you raised the power fast, it would shut it down, it would tend to shut it down. So as you were starting up fast, in R Reactor, you had to pull the rods faster and faster if you heat it up faster in order to keep the activity going up. In Chernobyl, the same thing happened, but their rods weren't strong enough to stop it. And so it kept going up in power until it melted the core. Now at N Reactor, we ran a lot of experiments to try and prove that even if that did happen, we don't think our graphite would have burnt. But to tell somebody you've got a graphite stack over here that burnt, and then we've got a graphite stack over here that's a little different composition and made up a little different way, it won't burn—just one cell. We still believe that we never could've burnt the N Reactor stack, but basically, that's what kept it down. It's shut it down for keeps—it’s the fact that why won't our stack burn? We just couldn't prove our stack wouldn't burn. We put torches on it, heat it up to a tremendous temperature, it wouldn't burn, but is that enough proof that it won't burn? You know, just wouldn't quite buy. So you know about a little bit about Chernobyl, huh? [LAUGHTER]
Arata: A tiny bit. What was Hanford like overall as a place to work?
Leitz: Well, the real inconvenience is location. Riding the bus back and forth initially, and later, we drove our own car. I actually wore out a little Metropolitan driving back and forth. I kind of enjoyed that little car, but we got to use our own cars. We carpooled and these sorts of things. One thing you'd see in the desert, and I don't know if many, many people are aware of it, but sometimes you see a lot of rabbits killed on the highway. And pretty soon you'd see no more rabbits on the highway, but you start seeing wolves and coyotes killed on the highway. And that's the cycle of what would happen is when there are lots of rabbits, there's a lot for the coyote to eat. And you could just see that cycle at Hanford, over a number of years, the population of each of those would vary. And if the rabbit population goes out, then the other population goes out. When it goes down, it goes down. So it was kind of interesting to see that.
Arata: Yeah. I wonder if we could back up just briefly to when you first arrived, if you had any impressions of what Richland was like as a community when you first arrived here?
Leitz: Well, the main reaction we had was, man, it’s costing us a lot more to live than those people that have been here for a while because they had a lot of stuff provided to them, coal or whatever. But you know, the rents were half what we had to pay and that sort of thing, but that didn't last forever. And buying the houses was it really turned out to be a very promising thing. We had weather storms, pretty bad. We had termination winds. We had a pastor, one of our pastors at church--the wife was just by herself when the storm had come in the sand would come through her doors. She wanted her husband to stop that from happening. [LAUGHTER] We had a lot of activities for couples and younger people and so on that we don't have now. Sororities, the Army Reserve meetings, and all these sort of things, you know. Nowadays, people don't want the same kind of entertainment as they had back in those days with Richland. So it’s a different style, more thrifty, maybe that's the whole United States.
Arata: Did you have sorts of dances or community events, things like that?
Leitz: Yeah, had quite a few community events and dances and things like that.
Arata: I know at one point you mentioned White Bluffs. Did you go out to the town site at any point during your first few years here?
Leitz: Well, we had to drive past it almost every day. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: Were there still buildings standing by that point? Or--
Leitz: The foundations in some of the walls and stuff were there, but none of the buildings were really intact. One of the old gas stations--but some of the people, and I didn't get it going, but some of the people did some exploration, which was not allowed. But they did on the old sites.
Arata: I just have a couple other things that I wanted to ask you about from reading through your notes. A lot of what I've read about N Reactor talks about zirconium, and I understand this is sort of an innovation at the time. Could you talk a little bit about what it was, and why it was so new?
Leitz: Well, zirconium, they needed a process tube. In the old reactors, there was just aluminum, because there was only cold water going through. They’d maybe get, oh, maybe it would get almost to boiling on the outside of some of the aluminum tubes. In the N Reactor you need a process tube that withstood the high temperature, high pressure. And so they developed this new metal, zirconium, that would withstand the temperatures and pressure and so on involved within the reactor, and the fuel was also clad in that. So if we ran on aluminum tube or aluminum fuel outline at the temperature we had to run at, it would have, what do you call it? A fuel failure. And fuel failures, well, I didn't talk too much about them, but there you're opening up the cladding to the uranium and then the uranium fission product took it in. And you’re likely for that to stay in the primary loop and cause high radiation to our workers. In the other old reactors, it would just go on through the reactor. And hopefully most of it would get picked up and they'd have a cooling pond for the water goes too and then the water goes the river. But small amounts of that could get to the river, and I think that's some of things they found with the aluminum tubes. But our zirconium tubes, they were much more resistant to temperature and pressure and so on.
Arata: Is there anything that you'd sort of like to pass on, wisdom to future generations? Of course, most of my students didn't live through the Cold War. They were born afterwards and don't really have an understanding of that time. Is there anything that you'd like future generations to know about what that experience was like of living through and working through the Cold War?
Leitz: Well, there's a lot of fear of radiation that's not merited, and it's something you have to learn to live with. Just like in our agricultural world, there are a lot of chemicals and stuff that we're using now we didn't use to use. But we have to learn to use them safely. I think radiation, contamination with radiation, there's a big difference between contamination and irradiation. If you go in for an X-ray, you get irradiated, but you don't get contaminated. If you get contaminated, you've actually got the radioactive material on you, and then you, yourself, become a carrier of that. Contamination is a thing that is more to be feared than just the radiation itself, but you have to control the radiation. Just understanding how to best preserve it. Now we haven't learned all our lessons yet on how to control all the fuel and the reactors, for instance. We haven't got a disposal method that--we're still arguing about how we're going to take care of those spent fuel elements and that sort of thing in our commercial reactors. And we have to learn to do that, but I think now—I just read an article the other day in the paper about the dangers we have from just fossil fuels or even the wind machines and so forth. They are not free of environmental problems. And so you've got to learn to live with radiation and, hopefully, that can be reactors, new generation reactors can be a source of power that will eliminate all these problems. Even the possibility of burning the fuel up to where it’s used up rather than create contamination. There are some real lessons to be learned yet.
Arata: Is there anything I haven't asked you about yet that you'd like to tell me about?
Leitz: Well, I told you about Nixon and the time when all the reactors were shut down. 65 billion kilowatt hours were generated by N Reactor before it was finally shut down. That's a lot of electrical power. At one time we were really the leading reactor insofar as the power generated, but that didn't last long as the new, larger reactors came online. But for a while, we were running the race. We overtook some of the smaller ones.
Arata: I understand you were at the closure last year.
Leitz: Yeah, last year I went out to closure. [LAUGHTER] That's almost funny because I found out they're going to have a shutdown, so I was trying to go. And this lady called to explain to my wife that--I wasn't home--that I wasn't invited. And she says, well, he thinks he's Mr. N Reactor. He thinks you ought to invite him, and after she talked to him, they invited me to go. [LAUGHTER] Yeah, that’s kind of--
Arata: Well, I want to thank you very much for coming in and sharing your stories with us. We really appreciate it. We'll get some images of your award and you picture now.
Leitz: Yeah.
Northwest Public Television | Lippold_Mary_Esther
Robert Bauman: Okay, here we go. Okay. We'll go ahead and get started.
Mary Esther Lippold: Okay.
Bauman: So we'll start maybe by having you say your name and spell your last name for us.
Lippold: Okay. Mary Esther Lippold, L-I-P-P-O-L-D.
Bauman: All right. Thank you. And my name's Robert Bauman. And today's date is December 9th of 2013.
Lippold: Right.
Bauman: And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So I wonder if you could start by telling us a little bit about your family. I understand you were born in Richland?
Lippold: Well, actually I was born in Pasco.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Lippold: And my parents at the time lived in White Swan on the Yakima Indian Reservation. My dad was the administrator and my mother was the faculty. So they got married and lived in the same house. [LAUGHTER] And they had to come to Pasco to have me. That's where their family was. My grandfather was born in Pasco. My father was born in Pasco. And I was born in Pasco. And my brother was born in Pasco.
Bauman: That was where the closest hospital was?
Lippold: Yeah. Well, there was a hospital in Yakima, but they wanted to be here. I was the first grandchild, so it was a big deal. [LAUGHTER] My mother said that when she got ready to go over the green bridge to have me, she decided she didn't want a baby. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So then did you live in White Swan for a little while then?
Lippold: For two years, yes. Then we moved Selah, where my dad was hired to be principal of a new grade school there. Then he joined the Navy. And we moved to New York from Kennewick. Mother and my brother and I came down to stay with my grandparents in Kennewick at that time, which was 1942. Then we moved to New York for six months till my dad was sent overseas. I don't know if it's considered overseas, Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, where he was wounded in action. My mother got a telegram saying her husband had been wounded in action. But he called shortly before this and said you'll be getting notice that I was wounded. And he said I was playing tennis. [LAUGHTER] So his wounded in action wasn't exactly what you would picture that.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Okay. And so what point did you move back to Eastern Washington?
Lippold: We came back in 1946. After the war ended, my dad was stationed in Seattle for a while. And then he was hired to be the principal of Carmichael Junior High School at the time. And he worked at Columbia High School for a couple of years until Carmichael was ready to move into. And I had the stigma of being the principal’s daughter.
Bauman: And what was your father's name?
Lippold: Christian Anderson.
Bauman: Christian Anderson.
Lippold: Chris Anderson was what he was called.
Bauman: And so how old were you then when you moved here?
Lippold: Ten.
Bauman: Okay. And so what was Richland like in 1946 when you returned to the area?
Lippold: It was dusty and windy. [LAUGHTER] That's mainly what I remember. We used to go out for rides. And we got caught in a dirt storm one day. We were actually up on Van Giesen. And my dad had to pull over, because we couldn't even see where we were going. We lived on Falley Street, which is where you cross George Washington Way, it becomes Bradley Boulevard to go down to all the hotels and motels down there and where the old garbage dump was. And we moved into an F house on Falley Street in 1946.
Bauman: And where did you go to school then?
Lippold: I went to Lewis and Clark Elementary. And then I went to Carmichael Junior high. School. I went to Columbia High School, graduated from there in 1954, long time ago. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Do you have any memories from your time going to school here?
Lippold: Oh, heavens. [LAUGHTER] Yes, I have a lot. We moved here from Seattle in the summertime. And my mother sent me to school. They entered me into Lewis and Clark on a Friday afternoon. And I wore knee socks. And not one other girl at Lewis and Clark had on knee socks. So we had to go buy some anklets for Monday. And when I got to school on Monday, they were all in knee socks. [LAUGHTER] That's my big memory of my first day at school in Richland. We lived in walking distance. We were just a block from Lewis and Clark. And I can remember running home at noon and running back to school. And I remember a lot of my teachers.
Bauman: Are there any that particularly stand out or your favorites?
Lippold: Well, remember Mr. Bressler, because he lived down the street from us, for one reason. But he was a very dynamic teacher. I don't actually think I ever had him. I think he was my PE teacher. My first teacher was named Jean Mabley, Mrs. Mabley. And she was from Tennessee. And we were all just fascinated with their accent. And then she got pregnant. And back in those days if you were pregnant, you did not teach elementary school. So she left us. We outgrew the building at Lewis and Clark and moved into Quonset huts. So I spent my sixth grade in a Quonset hut. And the boy in back of me used to untie my belt that I had on around my dress and tie it to my chair, so that when I got up, my chair went with me. [LAUGHTER] Those are the types of memories I have. I did have two uncles who worked out at Hanford. They both lived in Pasco. They were both chemists on the Hanford reservation. They didn't know what their job was really. I mean, they knew what individually they did. But they didn't realize they were building an atomic bomb. And it's interesting to me that they both died fairly young of pancreatic cancer. And they weren't related by blood. It was my uncle-in-law and my blood uncle. So I don't know. You read all these things about things that have occurred with people who worked at Hanford. It may be coincidence, but that's why happened to our family. My dad was--well, my mother and dad both worked in the Richland school district for 30, 40 years.
Bauman: Do you remember any community events or those sorts of things when you were growing up?
Lippold: Well, I was a Girl Scout. And we did a lot of community things. I know all the churches, and I know what kind of organs they all had, because I'm at church organist. And I started that when I was ten at All Saints Episcopal in Richland. Oh, I remember the Atomic Frontier Days every summer. And there was a baseball diamond just down at the end of Falley Street across George Washington Way down over the embankment there. And we spent a lot of time in the park—I guess it's Howard Amon Park now, yeah. And as far as community events, that's about all from a ten-year-old—I was from ten ‘til I went away to college here.
Bauman: Could you describe the Atomic Frontier Days, like what sorts of--
Lippold: Well, it originally started out being the Grape Festival. And that was in Kennewick. And it somehow turned into one big Tri-City event called Atomic Frontier Days. And it was just, I don't know, two or three days of—a carnival always came to town and always had a Miss. Richland. That was usually wear Miss Richland was crowned and that type of thing. I don't particularly—nothing stands out to me as far as Atomic Frontier Days goes, other than it was something we looked forward to.
Bauman: You mentioned the churches, you played organ?
Lippold: Yes.
Bauman: Was this when you were growing up?
Lippold: Yes.
Bauman: So what churches were there in the 1940s and early '50s?
Lippold: Well, the one I remember best is what is now Richland Lutheran. And it was just a big white government building. And the Lutherans owned—well, they didn't own the building. The Army owned everything at that time, or the government owned everything. But the Episcopalians, of which I was, used the church from eight until nine o'clock. And I sat up front at the organ. And I always was looking out of the corner of my eye. And I could see the Lutheran pastor standing waiting to come out. [LAUGHTER] So we always knew it was getting time for us to get out of there. And then there was Central United Protestant Church, which was a big church at the time, Christ the King, Southside, Northwest, and West Side United Protestant, which is now--I guess it's still called West Side. But they all had Hammond organs at the time. All the organs were alike, same instrument. And I played at All Saints in the Sunday school until I was 13, when the organist moved away. And they moved me upstairs, where I could see the Lutherans waiting to come in and play the organ. And I'm still playing.
Bauman: So when you were growing up, both your parents you said were in the school district.
Lippold: Yes.
Bauman: Were most of your friends’ fathers or parents working at Hanford then?
Lippold: Yes. All of our neighbors except for the ones who were teachers. We had a few teacher neighbors. But all of our neighbors worked at Hanford. I don't know what they did. And I'm not sure they knew what they did. But they got on buses. And it was funny, things I do remember back then, the houses were all exactly alike. There were two F houses on our side of the street and four on the other side of the street. And every Saturday night—evidently the payday was on Friday. And the guys that were single, or maybe they weren't single, would go out and celebrate pay day. And then they would be on their way home and get the wrong house, because they all looked exactly alike. But we had people walking into our house all the time thinking they were home. Well, we did the same thing. We walked into our next door neighbor's house one night. One day my aunt and my grandmother came out. And Mother and I looked out the window and my aunt up going like this into the next door neighbor's window. And we called. I was like, what are you doing? Oh. [LAUGHTER] She thought she was at our house. But that was easy to do—the houses all looked exactly alike until you got to know who lived inside, and then we knew.
Bauman: So were you still living in Richland when it became sort of independent of the federal government then?
Lippold: No. It became incorporated in 1958. And by then, I was married. My husband was in the Air Force. And we were all over for 21 years. And then we came back. We didn't find any place we liked better than the Tri-Cities. Except for the fact that the year we came back, the wind didn't quit blowing for over a year. [LAUGHTER] We were about ready to pack up and go somewhere else, and then it quit.
Bauman: Did your parents buy their house then, when they--
Lippold: They bought the F house that they lived in, yes. I don't recall what they bought it for. I think $6,000. And it was a nice house. They were so excited, because it was the first new house they had actually had. And you got assigned a house by what job you had. And my dad, being a school administrator, got a fairly nice house. The Fs are a two-story single unit. And I remember even—General Electric at this time had taken over the project. And if you had a light bulb burned out, you just called GE, and they came and put in a new light bulb. They delivered coal. And it was like living on a military installation, which I did for 21 years. [LAUGHTER] So it was quite a bit like Richland was in the days before I left. Then I worked for the City of Richland from 1976 to 2001. And I was the expert—if anybody wanted to know anything about the old garbage dump, they came to me. [LAUGHTER] Because we lived right by it and played down there. In those days, you could go down, play at the dump and really find some neat things. My original engagement ring is down there somewhere. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And how did that happen?
Lippold: My husband and I had to date to go see Gone with the Wind. And he was out flying a model airplane, and he came home too late to go to Gone with the Wind. I think I was 16 or 17. And I took my ring off and threw it at him. And then he took it, went out on the front porch and really let it fly. That was Labor Day weekend. And all the neighbors spent Labor Day weekend looking for my ring. And we never found it. A pickup truck went down the street shortly after hauling a poplar tree. And we think the ring probably hooked on the poplar tree and went with it to the dump. But I was always familiar with all the--I knew where the sewer plant was and where the water plant was. Well, I worked in public works. But I had known where the old ones were.
Bauman: So what year did you graduate high school?
Lippold: I graduated from Columbia High school. Yeah.
Bauman: In what year?
Lippold: '54. 1954. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And then you came back to Richland?
Lippold: Yeah. We were gone for 21 years. And then we moved back. And we didn't know what we were going to be doing or where we were going to be living, but we decided to buy a house in Kennewick. And we ended up with my husband working in Pasco. And I was working in Richland. And our kids went to school in Kennewick, which worked out well.
Bauman: You were covering the Tri-Cities.
Lippold: Yes, very. I definitely am a Tri-Citian.
Bauman: So how had the place changed in the 21 years that you were--
Lippold: Well, housing prices [LAUGHTER] had increased immensely. My parents, as I said, paid $6,000 for their F house. And just when we came back—our last military assignment was in Germany—and when we got back from Germany, they offered us the house for $18,000. And we were like idiots, we did not buy it. So we went to Kennewick and paid a lot more than that. But housing went up quite a bit in those 21 years. I don't really remember how much houses were when we left here when I was married. Because I paid my parents $25 a week rent while I worked for GE and waited till my husband got out of cadets, so we could get married.
Bauman: How about the community itself? Had it changed much did it seem to you?
Lippold: Not really.
Bauman: Same place?
Lippold: There were more houses that weren't government. Alphabet houses, of course, had been built in North Richland. And they were just starting to build out at Meadow Springs area. And we had some friends who had bought land out around Columbia Center area when we were teenagers. It was one of my friends’ father's. And we just could not imagine why he would buy land out there. [LAUGHTER] But it was a good move on his part.
Bauman: It seemed quite remote at the time, I guess. [LAUGHTER] Anything else? Any other memories that sort of really stand out to you from your time growing up in Richland?
Lippold: Well, it was just a nice place to grow up. We were running around the streets playing hide-and-go-seek at night and playing tag and all the things that kids did back then. We followed the mosquito spray truck, which was DDT. And the big sport was to ride your bicycle in the fog behind the mosquito truck. And no one thought a thing of that. And I remember one day we were having a party in our backyard and the mosquito truck came by, and we were just all lost in a white fog until it blew away. We could walk just about any place. I walked to my music lesson, which was on Van Giesen. And I lived on Falley Street. And that was a long walk. We went to the movies. The Richland Theater was there. And The Village Theater had movies. They had westerns every Saturday morning. And then after Uptown was built--I'm not sure what year Uptown was built. I know it was when I was in junior high, probably 1949, '50. And that was a big occasion to have the Uptown Theater there. And they Army, I remember when the Army base opened up, Camp Hanford. Because my dad was military, and my husband-to-be was military. Our wedding reception was out at Camp Hanford. But it was just a nice safe place to live. You never thought anything would happen to you or could happen--anything bad--here.
Bauman: You mentioned the Uptown shopping center. Before Uptown, where did you go to for shopping?
Lippold: Downtown, which is now called the Parkade. And down there, they had Thrifty Drugstore. Well, and the owner of Thrifty Drug was our neighbor. He lived in an L house, which was a very nice single four bedroom two-story unit. They lived just around the corner from us. And then there was a C. C. Anderson's, which is now Macy's. But that was the big department store. There was a hardware store on the corner of Lee and George Washington Way. And the Village Theater was across the street on George Washington Way from the hardware store. The building is still there. If you know—when you're driving up George Washington Way, you can find where the theater was. There was an optometrist in there for years. But my memories of Richland are—I don't have a lot of memories of Hanford, because we were never really directly concerned with Hanford other than everybody we knew worked there. We were very involved in anything to do with the schools.
Bauman: Right. And so your father was at Carmichael?
Lippold: Yes.
Bauman: And for how long?
Lippold: He was there until 1963. He retired just at the right time when boys started wearing their pants low and didn't wear belts to school. My dad sent them home to put on a belt. He was an old fashioned school disciplinarian. And I think it was good for his blood pressure that he retired in 1963, because things changed pretty drastically during the '60s. Then my dad worked for Benton County Public Health District as the business manager for 15 years. And then he retired.
Bauman: And how about your mom? You said she was--
Lippold: She was a teacher for years. She always said her most interesting teaching experience in Richland was at John Ball School, which was a school built out north of Jefferson. And it was built for the Camp Hanford kids.
Bauman: Okay.
Lippold: And she said those were the most interesting group of kids she had ever had. Because they were from all over the United States. And here they were all of a sudden up in the middle of nowhere Hanford where the wind blew all the time. But she loved John Ball School. She was there for two or three years. She taught at Jefferson, Marcus Whitman. She wouldn't substitute at my dad's school, she wouldn't go to Carmichael, because he was there. [LAUGHTER] Not that she didn't like him, but she didn't think she should be substituting at her husband's school. Like I shouldn't have been going to my dad's school.
Bauman: What was her name?
Lippold: Her name was Mary Anderson. That's one of the reasons I go by my two names.
Bauman: Well, was there anything else that we haven't talked about yet in your memories of Richland that you'd like to share?
Lippold: Well, I've got how many years of memories. [LAUGHTER] I should have a lot. But most of my memories are through the eyes of either a ten-year-old, ten to 21. I was 21 when I moved away, when I got married and followed the military with my husband. So my memories are kid's memories. I remember when President Kennedy came to Hanford. I happened to be—we were home on leave. And that was exciting. I did get to go out and see him. We saw President Eisenhower. He came to the opening of Ice Harbor Dam I think, one of the dams. We got up at five o'clock in the morning to go see President Eisenhower. I don't know what stands out in my mind. High school was fun. We used to, during homecoming, the kids always did what they called a serpentine. I don't know if they do that anymore or not. But we all held hands. And there were 309 in our graduating class, and we all just held hands and ran all over. [LAUGHTER] I wouldn't go far right now. The night before the homecoming ball game it was just like a big snake. We were all in one big line and followed the person that we were hanging onto.
Bauman: Going back to President Kennedy's visit, do you have any specific memories from that visit, what the day was like or the crowd, or anything from that?
Lippold: It was a huge crowd. Mainly, I just remember we didn't get real close to him. But we were close enough to be able to recognize him and know who he was. And I don't remember what year it was that he came and why we were even here at the time, but we used to come home on leave. My husband got 30 days of leave from the military every year, plus every time we moved, which was 22 times in 20 years. [LAUGHTER] They usually had a couple of months to make the move, the transition and so forth, and we always came home for that. And our boys and I came home—lived in Richland when my husband was overseas. He was a pilot on B-52s, so he had three tours over Vietnam. One in Vietnam and the other two were just flying over it. And Richland then—yeah, that was in 1967 I think. And the price of gas went up to $0.41 a gallon. And I was just incensed over that, that they could charge $0.41 for a gallon of gas. I went to a gas station. We lived upon Cedar, our two boys and I, during the year that my husband was in Vietnam. And I went to a gas station up on the corner of Swift and Thayer I think--or Wright. And it was called Buck and Joe's. And one day I took my car in there. And they knew that I was living by myself and didn't have a husband to tend to my car. And I don't remember what it was that wrong with my car. But they charged me $0.10. [LAUGHTER] So I decided they were good guys. One day I was down at the golf course--there was par three golf course just down off George Washington Way, kind of where the golf course is now, but way north of it. And I couldn't get my car started, so I called them and they came down. And they said, well, maybe if you put it in park it would start. So I was rather embarrassed over that. [LAUGHTER] Plus my golfing was a very bad, too. I hit every tree down there.
Bauman: So just looking back over your years, especially your years growing up, overall how would you describe the community in Richland in the '40s and '50s?
Lippold: Well, we loved it. Like I said, it was just a fun place to be. My parents were very strict with both my brother and me. And my dad, of course, was always close to the police chief. And my brother is two and a half years younger than I am. And my dad always had the police watching him. [LAUGHTER] So he couldn't get away with anything. And he did try, but it didn't work. It was a place where you just didn't think anything would happen to you. And actually nothing really did. I had to be in bed by nine o'clock. All the kids knew that I had to be in bed at nine o'clock. So they would ride their bicycles up and down the street yelling at me, and I was always up in my bed lying down looking out my window wishing I was out there riding my bicycle with them. [LAUGHTER] It was just kind of like Mayberry in Andy Griffith living here. Everybody knew everybody. Our Girl Scout troop, we were all friends. We all lived in the south end. Even now, when we go to our class reunions, we tend to pair off or group of into the Lewis and Clark group and the Marcus Whitman group and the Spalding, you know, all the different grade schools. Because those are the people that we had known since the beginning of--well, I came here in the fifth grade. But a lot of them had been there earlier. Not too much earlier, because we came here about maybe a couple years later than the majority of the families—kids who were in school.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you very much for coming in today and sharing your memories of those early years of Richland, growing up here.
Lippold: Well, you’re welcome. I wish I knew more about the actual history of Hanford. But hearsay is about all I would have on that subject.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Well, no, these are great stories. I really appreciate it. Thank you very much.
Lippold: Okay. You're wel--
Northwest Public Television | McElroy_Jack
Robert Bauman: All right. We'll go ahead and started then.
Jack McElroy: Okay.
Bauman: We could maybe start by having you say your name and spell it for us.
McElroy: Yeah. My name is a Jack McElroy. It's J-A-C-K M-C-E-L-R-O-Y.
Bauman: Great. Thank you. And today's date is October 22nd of 2013. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So let's start if we could by having you talk about when you came to work at Hanford initially, what brought you here.
McElroy: Right. I was born at Grand Coulee Dam when my folks came out here from North Carolina and grew up in Spokane. And they came out here to work on the dam. After it was completed, we moved Spokane. I grew up there. So at Lewis and Clark High School I took all their math and science classes. And in my senior year, Hanford started an engineering technician development program. And I was hired directly from high school by General Electric. And I came here in the summer of 1955 and started working. I was at the large central store's administration building next to the bus lot for a couple months while they obtained our Q clearances. And the program also involved sending us to classes. So during that time, we also started going to classes. So I basically came here in 1955 at the age of 18 directly out of high school.
Bauman: How many students were there? How many--
McElroy: There was about 20 of us that they recruited. There were several of us from Spokane. In fact, we formed a carpool and would go back to Spokane almost every weekend using the ferry that was here at North Richland, went over to South Landing on the Pasco side. And that was the quickest way to get back and forth.
Bauman: And so how long did you do that then?
McElroy: I did that for a year and a half. And I had some great rotations. And at the same time that I signed on down here, I joined the Air National Guard out in Spokane. And I was interested in flying. So in 1957, I actually left here to go into the pilot training program. But I probably ought to back up to my experiences here.
Bauman: I want to ask you about, you said a different rotation. What sort of--
McElroy: Yeah. My first assignment was radiation monitoring in a 325 Building, where I was basically a technician supporting chemists and also other radiation monitors. I learned a lot about the radiation and monitoring and so on, which was limited to the radio chemistry labs there in the 325 Building. My second assignment took me out to the 100 Areas, where I worked for Larry McEwen and the heat transfer group. And I was assigned to his group in the hydraulics lab that was at the 100-D and D Area. And I brought in a picture and gave that to you of me working there in the lab. I met some really great chemical engineers there including a guy that would have an effect in my life later on by the name of John Batch who was a PhD from Purdue. And they had quite an influence on my future as it turned out. My next assignment, I went to radiation monitoring again with Herm Pass in the 100 Areas. And he was stationed--they had an office at the 100-D, D Area also. And while I was on that assignment, I was very fortunate to be involved in the 105-B outage. And during that outage, we supported the changing out of the old curlicue pig tails. They basically looked like the real pig tail, and that's how they got their name. They were formed just like a curlicue. And they were on the front face of the reactors. And in 1956, on the B Reactor, they changed those out and put in stainless steel, flexible hoses and pipes. And so I was there at the reactor at that time supporting that operation.
Bauman: How long did that take?
McElroy: Oh, it was just a month or so to actually do that. And that was actually my last assignment. And I did pretty good and actually achieved radiation monitor status before I left and went into the Air Force in early 1957.
Bauman: Of those different assignments, did you have one that you enjoyed the most?
McElroy: I think the radiation monitoring at 100 Areas. I got to go out to all the different reactors. I was able to go the rear face on occasion. I mean, the rear face is a really hot, hot area. So you had to stay out to the side. But at least I was able to see the rear faces on the reactors and the front faces on several reactors. And so that was a very exciting assignment. But it was the hydraulics lab and heat transfer unit that probably had the biggest impact on me later on when I decided to go to college after I was in the Air Force.
Bauman: And so what sort of work did you do in the hydraulics lab?
McElroy: Basically took measurements of fluid flow. And then I did an awful lot of graphing for the engineers and realized at that time that, geez, if I had a degree, I could be having somebody else do the graphs for me. So it was very interesting.
Bauman: And you said that you and a group of you would drive to Spokane often, basically on weekends. Where did you stay? when you--
McElroy: When we came here, they put us up in the Sanford Hotel, which was on Swift Boulevard. It's since been removed. But it was an old army barracks type of place and had simple bunk beds and so on in it. But in 1955, the government started turning the city over to the community, basically. And things like prefab became available for renting. And so on a group of four of us actually applied for a prefab and ended up in a one-bedroom prefab at 1213 Potter Street. And it was a little bit crowded, but we had a ball.
Bauman: And what was the community of Richland like at the time, 1955, '56?
McElroy: It still had a mess hall. You could go to the mess hall there downtown just across from where the post office is at now and have a large buffet dinner and eat there. As I said, we stayed in the little hotel, barracks type hotel. Uptown Theater was there. It was pretty normal, small community.
Bauman: And so you were here for a year and a half or so.
McElroy: Right.
Bauman: And then if you can talk about what you did and what brought you back to Hanford.
McElroy: Yeah. Well, I left to go in the military. And I actually became a pilot and an officer and came back to the Washington Air National Guard up at Geiger Field and basically, at that time, decided, well, this is a great opportunity for me to go back to school. So I went to Gonzaga University while I was flying with the Guard and Air Force. And I received a Bachelor of Science in chemical engineering. And GE hired me immediately to bring me back down here. So I was back down here in July of 1963. So I was gone for about six years.
Bauman: Were you hoping to get back to Hanford at some point? Or was that--
McElroy: You know, I didn't know. I really didn't know what life had in store for me, but it just kept changing and progressing. And I was certainly glad to get back down here once I had the opportunity.
Bauman: So when you came back in 1963, then what sort of work were you doing? What areas were you working in?
McElroy: I kind of stumbled, or fate or something steered me into waste management and the group that was pioneering the development of waste treatment technology for handling radioactive waste. And they were just based, had a lot of their people, in a 321 Building, which was a building that had a lot of history. Other people may have mentioned it, but it had a lot of history for developing separations technology for the site. And at the time I was there, it was actually being used to develop which treatment technology. And so I got in with that group. And I spent three or four months with them learning about vitrification and also something called calcining, where you take liquid waste and heat it up, and drive off a lot of the volatile materials and turn it into a powder. And then from that, we would melt it, vitrify it, make glasses. So that was my first assignment. Second assignment, I went out to 100-N Area and had a great assignment there. I was a process engineer. And I was actually out there at the site when President Kennedy came in 19--I think was 1963, prior to the assassination of course--and saw him speak. And that was a great event. And N Reactor was a great reactor. It's unfortunate that we had to shut it down the way we did.
Bauman: Do you have any specific memories from the day that President Kennedy was here?
McElroy: Not really, no. I definitely remember being out there and seeing him, and hearing him talk, and the helicopters, pretty routine stuff. Yeah. I had one other rotation at PRTR, Plutonium Recycle Test Reactor, where I worked on the containment system for them. But in 1964, it was announced that they were going to shut down all the reactors. And so I decided it was time for me to pick a permanent assignment. And so I went back to the waste management group. I don't know if I mentioned their names, but Al Platt and Carl Cooley were heading up that organization. And they were real pioneers for developing waste treatment technology and working with other international people like in England and France at that time. So I got in with that group and had a lot of great opportunities with them.
Bauman: You mentioned as early as '63 they were already starting to work on vitrification sort of technologies?
McElroy: Right.
Bauman: What other sorts of technologies and waste treatment were being researched or worked on?
McElroy: At that time, it was primarily calcination and vitrification and looking at three different products, either a calcine powdery dry product for final storage or either phosphate glass or borosilicate glass. And also there was a phosphate ceramic at the time. So it really hadn't been decided what was going to be the choice for the US, what direction we were going to go with the treatment technology. And in the program I was in starting a '65, we actually demonstrated with radioactive material in the 324 Building several different technologies with all these different products. And from that, we chose to go with borosilicate glass, which is the current standard for product form for high level radioactive waste.
Bauman: And what led you to that sort of solution?
McElroy: The processes that we demonstrated, basically that seemed to be one of the best. We actually made it with in-can melting, a spray calciner, and in-can melter. I brought in another photograph of that showing all this equipment in the cell with the spray calciner setting over an in-can melter. And basically the product from that, the borosilicate glass, turned out to be the best product in terms of its durability. And also the process, in-can melting, was a pretty straightforward simple process to--
Bauman: Can you explain that a little bit, just a little detail?
McElroy: Yeah. Basically we sprayed liquid waste into the spray calciner, which is heated to about 700 degrees centigrade. And as the droplets came down, they dried. And it would be hot enough to where you'd get rid of all the nitrates and convert it to oxides. And the oxides would then fall down into the melter. We had a couple different melters at the time. We were actually looking at a continuous melter, that was made out of platinum and far too expensive, and the in-can melter, which is made out of Inconel. And we would add additives, boron and silica, to the calcine, and then heat them up to over 1,000 degrees centigrade in either the melter or the in-can melter and convert to the glass.
Bauman: So about what time period was this conclusion made to go with vitrification?
McElroy: The program was from '65 to '71. And so it was around 1970 that we basically decided that the borosilicate glass was the preferred route. And then things changed. And they actually didn't support doing any waste work for about a year and started it backup in 1972. And in 1972, I was recruited to be the manager for the development of the vitrification program. I was recruited by Al Platt, who I mentioned earlier and John Batch, who was one of the PhD chemical engineers out at the 100-D Reactor at the time I was there as a technician. So it kind of came back around again with one of the people that I word for earlier. So they recruited me to head up the program to further develop technology for using in the United States, for vitrifying high level waste.
Bauman: So were you actually able to begin the process of [INAUDIBLE]?
McElroy: In '72, we started building the program with the focus on the spray calciner and in-can melter, which was the choice from that earlier program, and also decided it was time to look at something that would handle large quantities of waste, such as what they have here at Hanford. Because when you just melt in a can, you're pretty well limited in terms of size and processing rate. So in 1972, I hired an engineer, actually Battelle hired him. Hanford Labs under General Electric became the Pacific Northwest Laboratories under Battelle. And so in 1972, I was then working for Battelle. And at that time, we started developing and hiring engineers. And so one of the engineers was Chris Chapman out of Kansas. He was a mechanical engineer. And we put him in charge of developing a new melter technology, a Joule-heated ceramic melter. And to jump further ahead, the Joule-heater ceramic melter now is the heart of the waste treatment plant. There's two of them in the low activity waste facility and two in the high level waste facility. But anyway, we started developing that technology in early '70s. And by 1975, we had a prototype working in the 324 Building of a liquid-fed Joule-heated ceramic melter. And I brought in a picture of that also to share with you.
Bauman: So that's almost 40 years ago now that you really started developing some of that technology.
McElroy: Right. If you add that up, that's probably 41 years. So it's over 40 years.
Bauman: Yeah.
McElroy: Yeah, time flies. Anyway, that technology--1977--we were developing most of this technology actually for the commercial nuclear fuel cycle with the expectation that the United States would develop reprocessing and have a complete fuel cycle here. In 1977, President Carter put a moratorium on reprocessing and that just threw everything into turmoil. And fortunately, there was a gentleman by the name of Frank Baranowski that was running the Department of Energy Defense Waste sites. And he chose to pick up the technology. And so we then turned all of our efforts from the commercial fuel cycle to supporting the Defense Waste facilities. So we spent several years working with DuPont to transfer the know-how for the spray calciner and in-can melter, as well as the Joule-heated melter for use down at Savannah River. And they initially started out choosing the spray calciner and in-can melter. But after they figured that there was a huge cost savings by eliminating the tall calciner in terms of canyon height for hot cells and processing cells, they decided to go with the Joule-heated melter. So we worked with DuPont and helped them get that technology in place in the Defense Waste Processing facility at Savannah River. And it's been very successful. It's been running for about 20 years.
Bauman: So you came initially in 1955--
McElroy: Right.
Bauman: --and the focus at Hanford was production. And came back in the '60s. It was just about to shift to definitely reduced production, right, and then--
McElroy: Right.
Bauman: I guess if you look back at that, you've seen a lot of the changes in mission, changes in technology.
McElroy: Yeah.
Bauman: In thinking back to the years you worked at Hanford and the changes, what--I mean, obviously impacted your work in terms of what you were focusing on. But the changes in technology must've impacted your work as well.
McElroy: Yeah. I still do a little consulting. It turned out to be a hot area, [LAUGHTER] waste management. So I'm still involved in it on a small part-time basis. I've retired two or three times. And I actually ran a small company for Battelle out there called Geosafe. We actually went out and we developed another technology called in-situ vitrification, where we literally clean up sites by putting electrodes in the ground and melting the earth and the soil. And we brought that along and made it to where it was capable of actually using the same method to melt in a large container. And so for a while here, Hanford was looking at that technology, it was called bulk vitrification, as a way of supplementing the current Vit Plant. And it's possible that that technology might still have a use here at Hanford.
Bauman: Mm-hm. So you came back and '63. And then how long did you stay working at [INAUDIBLE]?
McElroy: I worked for 30 years as an engineer and retired in '95 from Battelle. But I retired to run a small company for Battelle, the Geosafe company.
Bauman: Right. In looking back at the various things you've worked on, was there a part of your work, an aspect of the work that you found most challenging or part of it that you found the most rewarding?
McElroy: Probably the most challenging and rewarding was trying to make things work in a hot cell. The 324 Building—which is still there and may be there for a while, because there's contamination under the cell where we were doing the processing. Making things work, making them reliable, and getting week-long tests completed without major interruptions that was very challenging and very rewarding. And it could be done. Sometimes the only way to solve the problem was to put it in a hot cell and make it work. You could spend a long time outside playing around, but you really didn't know what the issues and problems were until you put in it in there and tried to do it.
Bauman: And then also during your years at Hanford, were there any incidents that stand out or problems or events that happened that stand out in your mind above some of the others?
McElroy: Hmm. Not really. I mean, some little events, but probably wouldn't want to put them on tape. [LAUGHTER] I would have to say that I am so amazed at the Manhattan Project and what they did so quickly and successfully. And even when I came here in '55 and then on in the '60s, we were able to do things pretty quickly. I mean, we could build it, put it in, test it. And somewhere '70s, '80s, things started to get too bogged down in paperwork and overly cautious. The safety culture was always there. But somehow or another the safety culture got to where it really slowed things down. And it's unfortunate. It just takes too long now to get things done.
Bauman: Is there any specific examples of concerns about safety or security that sort of thing that you can think of?
McElroy: Just the requirements for dotting the i's and crossing the t's and undergoing inspections and being afraid. I mean, I mentioned that sometimes the best way to get something done was to put it in there and make it work. Now, you can't put it in there until you're positive it's going to work. The Vit plant's a great example of that. And they have a truly big concern associated with these Pulse Jet Mixer tanks in the black cells, where they're going to be in there for 40 years. And I mean, that's a legitimate concern. But the fact is I believe that 90% of the waste could be processed without that concern. And then we're holding up the whole plant because of this other 10% of the waste. And that's frustrating.
Bauman: Looking back on your time working at Hanford, how would you assess, overall, your experiences working at Hanford?
McElroy: I had a great, great career, great experiences. A lot of memories, a lot of good memories, a lot of great people. And I raised my family here, too, my wife Carol, and daughter Toni and Jill. They're Bombers. It was Col High, Columbia High, at the time that they went to high school there. Now, it's Richland High School. And they had a great, great life and experience here also.
Bauman: I wonder if you could talk about the relationship between Hanford the workplace and then the community. How would you describe that relationship as you were living here in the '60s and '70s?
McElroy: I don't know, just business as usual. I don't set it apart from any of the other businesses around the area in terms of being different or unique. So just business as usual to me.
Bauman: I wonder, is there anything I haven't asked you about yet related to your work experience at Hanford or something that you'd like to share or talk about that you haven't had a chance to talk about yet?
McElroy: I don't think so.
Bauman: I wanted to make sure.
McElroy: There's probably something I'll think about later.
Bauman: Yeah. [LAUGHTER] That happens.
McElroy: Yeah, of course, right.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you for coming in today. This is a really interesting--as someone who came like you said as a--just out of high school, really.
McElroy: Yeah, I think that is kind of a fortuitous event, to come directly out of high school as something like this and to be a part of history. It basically impacted my life and my future decisions of where I was going to go and what I was going to do, very positively.
Bauman: And then you came back in a very different capacity in many ways.
McElroy: Right.
Bauman: Well, thank you again for coming in.
McElroy: Okay. Thank you.
Bauman: I appreciate your coming and talking to us.
Northwest Public Television | Sloppy_LaVerne
Camera man: Whenever you are ready.
Robert Bauman: All right. Okay, looks like we're ready to start.
LaVerne Sloppy: Okay.
Bauman: So if we could start by just having you say your name and then spell it for us.
Sloppy: LaVerne Sloppy--known by Verne. [LAUGHTER] L-A-capital V-E-R-N-E L. Sloppy--just like it sounds.
Bauman: Okay. All right, my name is Bob Bauman, and today's date is November 18, 2013. And we're this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So I wonder if we could start by having you tell us a little bit about your family when they originally came to this area, where they came from, and that sort of thing.
Sloppy: Okay. My mother came to this area in 1909 at the age of four--Nebraska.
Bauman: And do you know why your family came out here?
Sloppy: Well, my grandfather went to work for the irrigation district. And he later ran the irrigation district. So she moved here with her family.
Bauman: Okay, and what was his name?
Sloppy: Gus Long. Augustus Long.
Bauman: And then how about your father's family?
Sloppy: My father's family came to Washington State much earlier, but they didn't really live in Washington at that time. In fact, my dad was born in Prosser. And he came--and may have lived briefly here when my mother was in the eighth grade ‘cause they--my parents went to eighth grade at the same time.
Bauman: Okay, and then when did he move here sort of permanently here?
Sloppy: He was working for Grosscup Ranch. And then they started going together, I think. And they was married here. That would have been in the late '20s, I guess because they was married in 1930.
Bauman: And then, so were you born in Richland then?
Sloppy: I was born in Kennewick.
Bauman: In Kennewick.
Sloppy: They were living in the county outside of Richland I guess at that time.
Bauman: And so did your family have a farm?
Sloppy: They were, I guess, leasing different things. There were a couple spots in here, and then they moved up east of Corfu in the mid-'30s sometime. And then they came back probably 1938 from up there.
Bauman: Okay. And when they came back in '38, where did they live?
Sloppy: They lived two--I guess it would be west Richland area when they first moved back, and we moved just to side of the Yakima River off where Van Giesen is today. And then we moved to--still in Richland, but it was the south of the Yakima--it would be south Richland now, in there, I guess.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Sloppy: And then they moved off Van Giesen. The house and barn are still there off Van Giesen as you go towards west Richland, you cross a railroad. There's a concrete block house that's got a business in there now. That was the last place we lived in Richland.
Bauman: Oh, really?
Sloppy: For a while. And yeah, the barn and the house are still there. There's something of a business in the house right now. And the barn is still there, too.
Bauman: So on these different places you lived, were these farms for most part?
Sloppy: Yeah, they were all farms.
Bauman: Mm-hm. And what sort of what's of crops did you grow on those farms?
Sloppy: Dad had dairy cows and, of course, alfalfa and then potatoes, starting an asparagus place there on that last place I mentioned. He was actually buying that house. It belonged to the bank and him when they took those places over.
Bauman: Oh, okay. And this was the one on Van Giesen?
Sloppy: Yeah.
Bauman: So you were born in what year?
Sloppy: 1932.
Bauman: '32?
Sloppy: Barely.
Bauman: Barely? [LAUGHTER]
Sloppy: It was almost '33.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Sloppy: I do have one brother. My oldest brother, who is younger than I am, was born in Richland in '34.
Bauman: So what do you remember growing up in this area? What was the area like at the time?
Sloppy: Well, it was all mostly farms, and of course, the small town of Richland. And my mother, she had mentioned, after high school worked at the--for John Dam in the store that he had until my parents married.
Bauman: Mm-hm. Do you remember in this small town of Richland when you were growing up, do you remember any of the specific businesses, the John Dam store, but anything else that you remember?
Sloppy: George Gress's butcher shop. Frozen--that's where all the meat was frozen and stuff. And of course we didn't have any electricity on the farms at that time.
Bauman: Did you ever get electricity before '43?
Sloppy: Not before we moved, because we moved to Kennewick--or to the Finley area, actually after we left here.
Bauman: How about a telephone?
Sloppy: Not when we was living in Richland.
Bauman: When you were growing up on these farms, did you have certain chores or jobs?
Sloppy: Oh, yeah.
Bauman: What sorts of things did you do? Were you supposed to do?
Sloppy: Well, I started out milking one cow when I was about, oh, I guess it was six or seven. And I turned a hammer—the separator for the cream, separating the milk and the cream. And being one of the older ones of some of the chores in the house. And I was carrying water for my mother to wash clothes. Because we didn't have house—water in the house. It was an outside pump, like that--pump the water and carry it for doing the washing and stuff and the house water and stuff. And things like that and all kinds of chores around the farm. He had cows and pigs and chickens. My mother took care of chickens.
Bauman: What about school? Where did you attend school?
Sloppy: I actually started what should have been my kindergarten year. But I started first grade here on that place east of Othello up there. And then I went through Richland Elementary School until the fifth grade, and that's when we moved to Finley. I attended the Kennewick schools then.
Bauman: Okay. And how did you get to school? Did you walk? Did you take a bus?
Sloppy: We took buses. They had school buses. It was too far to walk, most of us farmers.
Bauman: Mm-hm. Do you have any particular memories about your time at school in Richland? Any teachers or any events that you remember?
Sloppy: Not really. I can't remember much. My older sister might remember some of them. But I don't remember. I think it was a Mrs. Bell at one time. That probably had been the first grade because my parents put me back with my peers. Because I actually started first grade up there in a little bitty school that they had out there. Then we had four students in the whole thing, and two of them belonged to the school teacher, and the other one was my older sister. So my parents, I didn't really learn anything in kindergarten. And so they put me back with the students which was real my age--the first grade. And I stayed with them.
Bauman: What sorts of things do you remember doing for fun when you were growing up?
Sloppy: Well, mostly around the farm and we done a lot of playing outside and stuff--my younger brothers. It was mostly chores. It wasn't a lot of fun things and playing with neighbors’ kids because it was a distance away. Though some of my cousins were fairly close, and my grandfather was living very close. And I remember a lot of things about him and my mother's family here, but I had been told—not that I remember it. Because my grandmother died '33, and my grandfather raised--at the time of her death, it was eight, but one of my uncles died shortly after my grandmother did, and he raised as a single parent, and it was seven children—five girls and two boys, all of which had died in their 80s. And he was actually the one that turned the irrigation water off for the Richland Irrigation District at the time that they took all these places. He retired, but he ran the irrigation district for years as well as farmed.
Bauman: So you mean, in 1943 when they turned--
Sloppy: Yeah. He had retired then. He probably retired very late, '39, '40.
Bauman: And how long did he work for irrigation district, do you know?
Sloppy: 1909 until then.
Bauman: Okay, right. That's a long time.
Sloppy: Yeah. And also my great-grandmother and grandfather Long were here before him, but they left here and went to western Washington after that. One of my--his younger brother was I think the first graduate in the class from Richland High. It was a book put out here some years ago, I no longer have a copy of it, that has listing him as one of the graduating class.
Bauman: Did your mother ever talk about what the area was like when she was growing up? Did she ever have stories to tell?
Sloppy: Mainly about her father and her mother and that sort of thing. She always thought that Long Avenue was named after my grandfather. I never saw it in writing or anything, but that was her opinion.
Bauman: Do you remember any community events or activities, special occasion things in the area?
Sloppy: Grange was quite big then, and they all belonged to the grange and stuff, and was active in that. Social things were more like that, and then even to just to go to town was a big event for the kids. [LAUGHTER] Of course there wasn't all of the whole family at one time. It was usually my father and maybe one or two of the kids. I remember going to George Gress's. He always would give us sausage. He'd hang one of those sausages around the kid's neck and stuff.
Bauman: How about churches? Churches in the area? Were there--
Sloppy: They wasn’'t real big in church. They were real moral people. I remember at my grandfather's funeral the minister that gave it said he had known him for something like 40 years and never seen him inside his church or any other church. But he never smoked, drank, or cussed or--was an extremely honest, moral person. However, they did practice it, I mean by their moral standards and stuff.
Bauman: So, 1943, when the federal government decides to build the Hanford site, how did your family find out? What memories do you have of that time?
Sloppy: Well, I'm not sure. I guess they came to the different locations, which my grandfather was on the shore water property lines also. I told them--but I would have been--in '43, let’s see--4th, 5th grade. I don't remember them coming to the house in particular or anything.
Bauman: Did you remember how you found out? Did your parents tell you?
Sloppy: My parents told me.
Bauman: And do you remember what you thought at the time? Or did your parents have anything--what they said about it?
Sloppy: Well, they were just getting started in buying the place, and I'm not sure they were upset about it. But as I remember, the bank owned the majority of the properties, and they were in the process of buying it. I think my parents, if I remember correctly, probably got $1,000 with that--got everything else. My grandfather actually sued the government along with some other people and got slightly more. But he owned his place outright, of course. But how he got told--probably them contacting him to find out where the property lines was and everything. And I had one aunt that had a place too, which no longer exists. It was off Van Giesen too.
Bauman: Do you remember how long you were--when you actually moved off your place?
Sloppy: It was in '43, I'm sure because my youngest brother was born in '42, and he was a baby.
Bauman: Mm-hm. Do you have any idea, like, how long you were there after you found out that you had to move?
Sloppy: It was a matter of months, but I can't--
Bauman: Right. You mentioned earlier that this is mostly farms and so forth. Who were your closest neighbors in that last place?
Sloppy: Well, let's see. It was a man—by the name of, I guess his last name was Townsend--had a gas station closer to the Yakima there. And then my aunt and uncle—it was kind of kitty-corner place. Their name was Johnson. But the closest ones—I am trying to remember the name, of course, would now be Van Giesen from that house. I can't remember his name. He was a bachelor. I think it was Thornton, but I can't be--I'm not sure on that name.
Bauman: Mm. And going back to the property you lived on, what sort of irrigation system did they have? How did that work?
Sloppy: It was quite similar to what the Kennewick and Columbia Irrigation Districts are. It was an irrigation ditch, and they piped to the irrigation ditches into it--to the different farms.
Bauman: Are there any memories from your years growing up in Richland really stand out to you, or you remember well, or have a special place in your memory?
Sloppy: I’m trying to think of something, I can't think of anything off hand.
Bauman: Mm-hm. Did you do a lot of fishing and hunting or that sort of thing?
Sloppy: Well, I can remember my dad [LAUGHTER] doing some bird hunting and stuff. I can remember killing pheasants in a hay field with a pitchfork, too, out of season. [LAUGHTER] At that place. And we did fish. And, actually, at that place, at that time, when the irrigation system went in, and there were a couple of lakes west of the house that ways. And I'd fish in them. And we did fish in them then. It was out in the pasture and in there--the bullhead and stuff like that.
Bauman: Mm-hm. You talked about occasionally going into the town of Richland. Did you ever go to any of the other neighboring towns, White Bluffs, Hanford, Pasco, Kennewick, any of those?
Sloppy: No, the only thing I can remember about White Bluffs and Hanford is that my dad when he moved from that place east of Corfu. It's called Corfu by the way--he crossed cows at the ferry there probably on horseback. He brought his cows down from there to wherever we lived in Richland at the time. That book listed a schoolteacher at, I guess it was White Bluffs or a Hanford High School, or a school there as Edith Long, which was my mother's name. But it wasn't my mother. [LAUGHTER] She was not a school teacher. I am trying to remember the name of that book, but it was—
Woman, off-screen: Probably "Tales of Hanford, White Bluffs, and Richland" by Martha Berry Parker.
Sloppy: By whom?
Woman: Martha Berry Parker?
Sloppy: Yes, that was probably it. But it did show a woman of that name, and I don't think it was probably two women. So I think that was probably a mistake. To be named Edith M. Long. ‘Cause mom had graduated from Richland High, of course, along with most of her siblings.
Bauman: Were there a lot of sports activities with the schools around here?
Sloppy: No, they had athletic teams and stuff, which some of my aunts were on the teams. They are mentioned in that book also. As is Uncle Jay, my mother's Uncle Jay, was the one I told you graduated from high school. I don't have my copy anymore. I gave it to one of my brothers, and I never got it back. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So if someone was to ask you what the community of Richland was like, what this area was like in the 1930s and early 1940s, what would you tell them?
Sloppy: This was just a small farming community. They all shopped at John Dam and Vick Nielson's--his partner, by the way, store. Most of them had running tabs there and storing their meat that they had butchered and George Gress's freezing place--or his meat store. I think his building is still there. It used to be a tavern and stuff in there or something. And I don't know if any of my other relatives—their other farms remain. He tried to point them out with me, but they are difficult now today.
Bauman: And so then after 1943, where did your family go then?
Sloppy: My parents moved in to the Finley area, which with all the mail stuff we did with the Kennewick routes, rural routes. That's still known as Sloppy's Corner out there in Finley, informally. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And so did you sorta then spend the rest of your youth there in that area?
Sloppy: Until I was in junior high. And then we moved to what was called the Richland Y. The address was Kennewick, but it's now in the city limits of Richland. The house that my mother and father had there is still there. My sister actually lives there and a brother. At that time it was a Kennewick address, and now it's a Richland address.
Bauman: And so then after that, where did you go?
Sloppy: Well, I went into the--was drafted into the Army, and my parents and younger siblings were there and my older sister some. And then when I got out of the Army the first time, I came back there, and I lived there for a couple years also. Until I went back into the Army. I worked for General Electric for a couple of years. And I got hit by a reduction in force type thing. And my last day was a Friday in November of '57. I don't know the exact date. Tuesday I went down and reenlisted in the Army. [LAUGHTER] It was wintertime, and construction work was scarce, and I was young and single. So I left Finley then.
Bauman: So this was in the 1950s, you said?
Sloppy: That would have been 1957, November of '57.
Bauman: November of '57.
Sloppy: I went back in the Army.
Bauman: And so what sort of work was it at Hanford, construction?
Sloppy: No, it was for General Electric. I think it was 100H I worked at, from late '54, early '55 to '57.
Bauman: And what sort of work at 100H, was it?
Sloppy: It was labor truck driving, I think, for General Electric.
Bauman: And how was that experience? What did you think of working at Hanford?
Sloppy: It was a good job for me at the time being single, like I said, living at home.
Bauman: And then you said you went back into the Army.
Sloppy: Yes.
Bauman: And at some point came back here?
Sloppy: Well, I didn't actually--I came back to Kennewick, but that wasn’t ‘til 1986. [LAUGHTER] Because I spent 30 years in the Army.
Bauman: Is there anything about your time growing up in this area that you haven't talked about yet or you think would be important to share or important for the people to know about?
Sloppy: Well, no, like I said, I attended Kennewick schools, even though the addresses at that time was a Kennewick address, even though it's currently a Richland address. No, it was a normal growing up with a bunch of brothers and sisters, only two sisters, but a bunch of brothers. And it was a typical [INAUDIBLE] for them.
Bauman: I just want to go back to 1943. Did your parents ever talk about having to give up their land afterwards, later?
Sloppy: They naturally had some heartburn, and I don't think anybody that lived during that time, if they were adults anyway, ever voted Democrat again--boy that--since Roosevelt was the one that did it. And they probably felt that even though in my case, it would have been maybe the bank giving your land back, especially since they never did anything with that land. Now my grandpa's is probably all residential or even business because that would have been probably closer to where the hospital is now in that area. So that was all used for something. But my father's and the bank's area wasn't. My uncle's and aunt's area is still all weeds and things back against the sand hill there where the irrigation ditch ran down, where the irrigation ran down. One of my cousin's--or a couple of my cousins was here a couple of years ago, and I was able to take him real close to where it was, but there's no houses or anything. There's one house back in there now. It’d be off to the right. And most people felt that way about it. Like I say, my grandfather sued them. And it don't take a long if there’s a lawsuit. But it did get them a little bit more for the land area.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you for coming in today and sharing your memories and stories. I appreciate it.
Sloppy: Well, now, I don't know how much this helps you, but--
Bauman: It’s great. All right. Thanks very much.
Sloppy: You wouldn't know where I'd get a copy of that book, do you? [LAUGHTER]
Woman off-screen: You know, it's really hard to find. I've seen it at used books.
Robert Bauman: Say your name and spell your last name for us?
Sally Slate: Okay. Sally Slate. S-L-A-T-E.
Bauman: Okay. My name’s Robert Bauman and today’s date is August 5th of 2015. We’re conducting this interview at Sally Slate’s home in Richland, Washington. So let’s—if we could, start by having you give us some background information on when you came to the Tri-Cities, what brought you here?
Slate: Well, I was a new graduate from the University of Idaho in June of 1955. I guess I was attracted to this area because I was going with a young man that still had a couple of years of schooling, and I wanted to be kind of close to the University of Idaho for him. Unfortunately, we broke up. [LAUGHTER] But I came as a tech grad for GE. These were three-month assignments where we rotated different assignments. My first assignment was to open up the chemistry lab at PUREX building that was still under construction.
Bauman: And were you familiar with Hanford before you came here? Did you know much about the place?
Slate: Yes, I was, because we have an atomic energy site near southern Idaho, and my father was working there. So I was quite well-informed. In fact, I’d taken some classes in nuclear energy.
Bauman: And had you been to Richland or the Tri-Cities before?
Slate: No.
Bauman: And did you have a first impression when you arrived?
Slate: Well, everybody had told me that I was going to hate it, that it was desolate, sagebrush. I came here and I thought, gee, I’m at home! Snake River’s just around the corner. And [LAUGHTER] sagebrush, I’m well-acquainted with. Potato fields? Yes. And also, I felt very comfortable.
Bauman: So you said your first job was opening up the chem lab at PUREX.
Slate: Yeah.
Bauman: Can you describe what that was like? What that work was like?
Slate: It was doing a lot of dish-washing. Because everything had to be taken out of the boxes, we had to figure out where to put it in the lab, we had to get the equipment set up and tested. There were two or three of us doing that job.
Bauman: And can you maybe explain what PUREX was, for [INAUDIBLE]?
Slate: PUREX is the separations plant that was—the fuel went in on one end of the building and made a continuous run and we got the plutonium and uranium separated at the end. The REDOX Plant, you had to do it in batches. But this was a continuous process, so it was going to be a little more efficient. As I say, it had not been—they were still under construction at the time that I was out there. And unfortunately, when we got here, nobody had Q clearances, and they thought that we needed Q clearances. So they set us in the unclassified library until they finally figured out that, oh, our clearances are all sitting on somebody’s desk and he’s on vacation, and you don’t need a Q clearance anyways, so put them to work! [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So that was your first job. Where did you go from there?
Slate: Oh. The next job was at the REDOX Plant. It was not really a happy experience. I wanted to be in the lab. As a woman chemist, I don’t think they appreciated women chemists in the lab at that time. It was trying to put together a compilation of all of the procedures that were being done, and trying to classify them so that if we got some kind of an assignment, you had to—okay, we need this analysis done. What procedures do we have available to do it? And it was well before the capabilities of our computer systems and everything now. I just didn’t appreciate that assignment. Then I went into the classified library as an abstractor. Where I had to read all of the classified—we were one of four—reading classified materials that came in. Everything from books to reports and anything generated that came into the library. We had to write a small paragraph about what the—without saying anything classified. We did bibliographies, computer searches. Except it wasn’t a computer search, it was a search of the index cards and made up answered questions that would come in. That was an interesting job. But it wasn’t as fun as being in the lab.
Bauman: And how long did you work there in the classified library?
Slate: Well, that was pretty much—well, that was a permanent position.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Slate: I worked there until I had been married and was expecting a child. And then they required me to quit.
Bauman: Okay. So you talked about being a woman chemist and it didn’t seem like you were really welcome in the lab, or that they wanted—were there other women chemists around at the time?
Slate: There were a few. There was a couple of others. Actually—let’s see. I’m thinking as the abstractors, the other chemist who was an abstractor was a mathematician. And the other woman was a mathematician. They were drawing the abstractors from the scientific fields, because you could teach somebody to be an abstractor, but you couldn’t teach the scientific part of it as easily.
Bauman: Right. So was it a GE policy that when you were married and—
Slate: Yes.
Bauman: --you had to quit?
Slate: Yes. Five months, period.
Bauman: Oh, you had five months after you—
Slate: After you got pregnant.
Bauman: After you got pregnant, that you could work and then you had to quit.
Slate: That was routine. When I got to working in Idaho for Argonne National Lab, they said I could I work as long as I wanted. As long as I could do the job. Phillips Petroleum says, we think you’re pregnant. Prove it that you’re not. Otherwise, you’re gone. There’s definite bias there.
Bauman: Oh yeah.
Slate: They didn’t want us riding the bus.
Bauman: Okay.
Slate: And I was riding a bus 75 miles each way. Twice a day.
Bauman: Do you know when that policy changed?
Slate: I don’t. Because my next experience out here was in the ‘70s. And by that time, the policy had changed.
Bauman: Sometime in between there.
Slate: Sometime in between.
Bauman: Yeah, it changed. So let’s talk about transportation. You said you had to ride a bus out?
Slate: Yeah.
Bauman: Pretty much every day?
Slate: Here in Richland, we had the buses. They would pick up at specified places along the—in town. Or you could drive your car out to the big bus lot, and leave your car there and transfer to the bus that you were going to be going out into the Area on.
Bauman: Okay. And where was the lot at?
Slate: Oh, go out Stevens, on the left-hand side as you go out Stevens.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Slate: They’ve transformed it into—part of it was an area where the police are doing training. After they had just redone the parking lot and spent millions doing the parking lot, then they decided, oh, we’ll close the buses down. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about housing when you arrived in Richland. What sort of housing was available, or wasn’t available?
Slate: Well, when you first come, you check into the Desert Inn, which was the only hotel in town. Then you check with the Housing Authority, and the housing office assigns you housing according to your job, and your status—your marital status. And being single, I was assigned to one of the dormitories. And we still see the dormitories around. W-5 was just off of Lee—Lee and Knight. It was definitely a dormitory. It had a house mother. Doors were closed on the weekdays at 10:00 at night. The doors were locked. It was later than that for the weekends. But you had a little room, furnished. If you took the furniture out and put your own furniture in, you couldn’t get their furniture back if you changed your mind. It was cheap.
Bauman: Do you remember how much it cost?
Slate: I don’t. But something--$20 a month or less.
Bauman: And so how long did you stay in the dorm then?
Slate: I stayed in the dorm until—well, I went into a private apartment with a friend. And then we got married and went into a two-bedroom prefab down here.
Bauman: Oh, okay, sure.
Slate: In the south end of town. When those houses went up for sale, we could have bought that house for $1,875. [LAUGHTER] Yeah. We thought it was too small for us, because by then we had two small children. We bought a pre-cut. Three-bedroom pre-cut from a friend. They didn’t want the house, but if they had just moved into the house that they were going to buy, they would have had to remove all of the improvements that they’d put into the house, which included the wall-to-wall carpeting, drapes, electrical for a dryer, a fenced-in backyard. All of that would have had to have been removed. And they would have lost all of that investment. So they bought the house and sold it immediately to us at a slightly higher price to accommodate for their investments.
Bauman: How would you describe Richland in the ‘50s? I know it was a government town, still, when you—
Slate: It was government town, yeah. Everything. The schools were—GE ran it all for the government. Police department, schools—just about all of the—anything that had to do with the town.
Bauman: And did that change significantly when it sort of became its own city, then?
Slate: It was very gradual. They started selling the houses—we became a town in October of ’57? ’57. And the houses were being sold in ’58. Early ’58, we bought our house on Smith.
Bauman: I know one of the events from the community happenings or things was when President Kennedy came to visit in 1963. Were you here then?
Slate: ’63, we were not.
Bauman: Oh, had you—
Slate: We had left. Took a while to wander around to Idaho and Washington, but kept coming closer and closer, and finally said, we got to go home.
Bauman: You talked about having to get a—well, you thought you had to get your Q clearance, then didn’t have to get a Q clearance. What was security like at Hanford at the time? Would that impact your work—I mean you were working in classified libraries, so that part--
Slate: Yeah. You could get into—up to the 300 Area. But there was a barrier there. You couldn’t go through the barrier without a clearance. You had to have at least a Q clearance—or not a Q clearance, a Nil clearance is what they called it, was the beginning clearance. But then to get into the 200 Area, and to get into Two West, you had to have a Q clearance. That was just—you had a badge and it had your type of clearance on it. If you were working around the areas where there was a lot of radiation or potential radiation, then you’d wear pencils, and you might wear a ring. The ring would be checked weekly, and if it showed anything, then they would check your badge. Badges were changed out, I think, on a monthly basis. I never was in a situation where I accumulated anything. You had hand and shoe counters that you had to check into the building and check out of the building—using the hand and shoe counters to make sure you weren’t carrying anything there. Because those would be the two areas that would be most apt to pick up something.
Bauman: So where was the classified library located?
Slate: In the 300 Area. The building is still there. I don’t remember the building number. It was across from 319.
Bauman: And you mentioned—so you got married in—
Slate: In March of ’56.
Bauman: Okay, and did your husband also work at Hanford then?
Slate: Yeah.
Bauman: And what area did he work in?
Slate: He was at Three West Area. The REDOX area.
Bauman: Okay.
Slate: We happened to be riding the same bus together.
Bauman: Is that how you met?
Slate: Actually, we met at the Mart cafeteria. That building on Lee and Knight that has Sirs and Hers Barbershop and had a gun shop in there. But at that time it was a 24-hour cafeteria. There was a drugstore in part of it. And there was a jewelry store up front and a little lounge area, the Evergreen Lounge, in the back. We’d just—I’d just gotten off of my first day of swing shift.
Bauman: Oh.
Slate: And he had just gotten off work. We were in there having coffee. The girl I was with knew him, and knew the other fellow that he was with. But then I discovered that we rode the same bus. Or, rather, I made sure we rode the same bus. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So how was Hanford as a place to work, then? I know you talked about not really being able to work as a chemist [INAUDIBLE]
Slate: Well, I don’t think it was any different than working anywhere else at that time. Because there were restrictions everywhere. My original plan when going to college—I wanted to be a veterinarian. And after one year of pre-vet being the only girl in the School of Agriculture, I was told there was no way in hell that a woman would be accepted into the School—
Bauman: Oh.
Slate: --of Veterinary Science. And that I needed to choose something else. So, I went into chemistry, which is another love that I had. I was one of two women—first two that had graduated in chemistry in five years from the University of Idaho. And now, you know what percentage of women are. Far more women than men. And the same veterinary school now.
[PHONE CHIMES]
Bauman: Sorry about that. Talking about Richland, I was going to ask you one other question about the town. In terms of entertainment or things to do for fun, what was there in the area in 1955, ’56?
Slate: Well, pretty much the same things that we have now. The Richland Players was a movie house at that time. The roller skating rink was there. We could ride horses—we could rent horses out on Van Giesen. Boating. Pretty much the same mix of things that we have now. At that time, we had the symphony, we had Richland Players, although they were having their plays in the schools at that time. But those were the things—and bowling.
Bauman: So when did you move away from Richland, and when did you come back then?
Slate: Oh. We left in ’58, ’59. We left in ’59—June of ’59. And we came back for good in ’71.
Bauman: Had the place changed a lot in that time?
Slate: Grown! Yes. Not so much Richland. Although it was beginning to grow. But the areas between Richland and Kennewick that used to be grapevines and all kinds of farmland where Columbia Center was getting started and it just—I didn’t know my way around.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Are there any things I haven’t asked you, or anything you’d like to talk about that you haven’t had a chance to talk about yet, in terms of your work at Hanford, or--?
Slate: At Hanford? Of the early years?
Bauman: Yeah!
Slate: I don’t know. I enjoyed it very much. It was very mentally stimulating. And even the recreational things that were here were—because we had the symphony, we had the Richland Players. And it’s good to see that they are growing. If we’d only get our performing arts center.
Bauman: I’m with you on that. [LAUGHTER]
Man three: We’re with you.
Slate: And they’re saying 20, 30 years, and I don’t have that many years left, I’m afraid.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you very much for letting us come to your home and interview you, talk to you. I appreciate your sharing your experiences with us very much.
Slate: Well, it’s been kind of interesting, thinking back to those days.
Man three: I had a quick question, comment.
Slate: Yeah?
Man three: So when you were in the labs—
Slate: Yeah.
Man three: What would you do? What were you doing in, like the PUREX or the—what sort of thing would you do?
Slate: Oh. Well, the laboratory was an analytical lab. And they were divided into hot sections and cold sections. The hot section would receive the really radioactive materials that had to be handled in big glass-enclosed, with lead—a glass so wide. But I was never involved in that real high level. By the time I got things, it was down to the very low level radioactive materials that we could handle in a hood with ventilation. We wore just a lab coat. I’m trying to think if we even, in those days—I don’t think even at REDOX that I was involved with anything higher than just very low level materials. And we would separate out the plutonium or the uranium out of the fraction that we got, and would pipette it onto steel planchets. Little steel discs. And then the discs would go downstairs to the counting lab, and would be put into the counting lab and they would determine how many counts per minute were coming off of that. That would tell them the amount of radiation that there was, the amount of material that there was in that. We did everything in duplicates and triplicates, to make sure that we hadn’t made a mistake.
Bauman: Right.
Slate: Most everything was done triplicates.
Man three: So you didn’t work in the hot cells because of gender?
Slate: No, no. I didn’t work in the hot cells because I didn’t work in the—I was never assigned to it.
Man three: But that wasn’t a gender-based—
Slate: No.
Man three: I was trying to—
Slate: No, I don’t think it was gender-based at all.
Man three: The other question I had was—so, GE and stuff, if you were five months pregnant, then that was the time to separate.
Slate: Yep.
Man three: Did you have a job to come back to, or that was terminated?
Slate: [LAUGHTER] You had a job to come back to if there was a job available. That was part of the reasoning, they said, oh, that going into the classified laboratory was perfect for you, because there’ll always be a job available. Little did they know that computers were coming along, and computers were going to do all the abstracting and all the bibliography. You’d punch in a question and they’d come out with all the answers of here’s the materials that we have available on that subject. So computers did away with that job.
Bauman: Right. Had your old job been available, would you have had it, or would you have had to reapply?
Slate: I would have had to reapply.
Bauman: Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.
Slate: Yeah, it wasn’t an automatic thing.
Bauman: Right.
Slate: You were expected, as a young married mother, to stay home with your children. At least until they got into school. That wasn’t to say that there weren’t people who went back to work right away. But it was not the usual thing. Of course, I wanted to be able to stay home with the kids. By the time I had three, I had to go to work. [LAUGHTER] By that time, I started looking around and thinking, well, what can I do? I can go back to school and get a job as a teacher. So I got my teaching degree. And I taught school for five years until we decided we got to go home, we got to come back here to Richland. And that’s when I got back into the chemistry.
Bauman: All right, well, thank you again very much.
Man three: Thanks.
Bauman: I really appreciate your time and letting us come in here. [LAUGHTER]
Man one: Okay.
Northwest Public Television | Kathren_Ronald
Ron Kathren: My name is Ron Kathren.
Bauman: All right. And my name is Robert Bauman, and we're conducting this oral history interview on the campus of Washington State University. And today's date is July 30th of 2013. So we’re going to start by, Ron, just having you talk about when you first arrived in Tri-Cities, when you came to Hanford, how that came about.
Kathren: I came to the Tri-Cities the first time to a scientific meeting, I think it was 1963. There wasn't much here then, but for some reason I rather fell in love with the place. Subsequently, I acquired a wife who was a native Washingtonian. And I remember telling her how I liked this part of the state. She's from the other side of the mountains, so she was used to the lush green forests and what-have-you. But one thing led to another--do you want the long story, Bob?
Bauman: Yeah, go for the long story.
Kathren: One of the people from Battelle came down to visit. This was common in those days. I was working at what's now Lawrence Livermore National Lab. And he came down to visit me. We did these technical exchanges. And he spent two days. He also had a good friend that he was visiting over at Stanford. And he actually stayed at my home. Well, I couldn't figure out why he was there. [LAUGHTER] And I finally asked him, Harold, what the devil are you doing here? And he really didn't want to say. And the reason was the Atomic Energy Commission in those days, the predecessor to the Department of Energy, had kind of an unwritten rule that one contractor or one lab was not supposed to steal people from another lab. And Harold just finally opened up and he said, well, I'm here to hire you. [LAUGHTER] And I was floored because I had wanted to get up to Hanford. Part of the reason was the type of work they were doing here was really relevant to my interests and what I had been doing at Livermore. And it seemed to be a more, shall I say, happy climate, morale-wise. And so in 1967, in July of ‘67, we moved to Richland. My wife was very pregnant. And we now have three generations of the Kathren family here in Richland.
Bauman: And so what sort of work were you doing at Livermore?
Kathren: I was doing health physics. I was actually in charge of the calibration--radiological calibration lab there. And we used film badges in those days. And the film dosimetry group. So had other responsibilities too, but those were my main responsibilities there. And by the way I'll just mention this, one of the things that really intrigued me—we had done an intra-comparison of film badges and calibrations for plutonium, which was of interest. When I say “we,” we had done it with Hanford, Los Alamos, and Livermore. Because there was some question about how well we were measuring the very low energy photons--that are actually x-rays--that are associated with the decay of plutonium. And as it turned out, Los Alamos and Livermore were right on target. Hanford, which I would have expected to be the one to match, was quite a large percentage different from our results. And when I got up here, that was one of the things that I figured out. And that's a long story we won't go into.
Bauman: So you came in ‘67?
Kathren: Came in July of ‘67.
Bauman: And who was the primary contractor at that time? Was that who you were working for?
Kathren: It was Battelle. There were actually three contractors. What they had done in 1965 was to diversify the site. It had all been General Electric. And they wanted to make this into a more normal community, not so heavily dependent on the site. And so they put out requests for proposals. And the bidders had to put in some sort of normal activity in addition to running the site. Battelle won the contract for the research labs. And their promise was--and they did it—to build $20 million of private research facilities. And they also had what was called a use permit, so they could use the government facilities for private research, paying a fee for this. And the government, in turn, could use the Battelle facilities for government research, paying a fee also. The other two contractors, as I recall, were Douglas United Nuclear, which was a consortium of Douglas Aircraft the United Nuclear. And they ran the reactors. Their contribution was the construction of the Donald Douglas Laboratories which are no longer extant. And among other things, they were working on the artificial heart and isotopic power sources. And the third one, I believe, was Isochem. They didn't last long. They were in the 200 Areas, the waste areas. And their idea was to take up the radioactive species in the waste areas to remove them and use them for various beneficial purposes. You can use, for example, oh, say, cobalt-60. You can take that out of the waste and concentrate it and then you can give high radiation doses to certain kinds of flooring materials--they do this now--that are injected with plastic into the wood and it strengthens them. And it makes them far more resistant to damage. Isochem didn't last long. And they were replaced by Atlantic Richfield. And Atlantic Richfield brought a risk capital venture plan. And also a cattle feedlot facility. So I got here just about the time Isochem was getting ready to go and Atlantic Richfield was getting ready to come in. I'm going to comment quickly about Atlantic Richfield and their risk capital. I got the great idea that the area here is perfect for growing walnuts. I had been living in Walnut Creek. I lived in an old walnut orchard. I'm kind of interested in things like that. In fact, today in my dotage retirement I'm a master gardener. But the first thing I had to do was to convince the county ag agent that this area was suitable for growing walnuts. And I remember he was insistent that it just couldn't happen here. That the frosts were too early, and all kinds of other things. And I was pointing out to him all the reasons why this area was ideal. And also from an economic standpoint, the walnut orchards in California we're being cut down for subdivisions or the trees were being destroyed by a disease. I think it's called black ledge, or black--black--black--ooh oh I can't remember now. Walnut trees down in California are grafted. And at the graft, it would develop this black line and they'd die. The upper part. The part where the nuts were produced. That wouldn't happen here because the winters are sufficiently cold to prevent that disease from occurring. I think it's a viral disease. In any event, when I convinced him, I drafted up a little proposal and I went to Atlantic Richfield's risk capital thing and pointed out all the merits of this. Walnut trees don't need a lot of care. You don't prune them heavily the way you do grapes or apples. They could be flood irrigated a couple times a year, so you didn't need extensive irrigation systems. Harvesting is really fairly easy. One of the ways to do is just put a big net under the tree and come along with a shaker and shake the tree and all the nuts drop, and you gather them up. And to be economically sound, you had to have, I figured, maybe 100 to 200 acres. Because they have to be washed and dried afterwards. But you didn’t need—it was not labor intensive. And Atlantic Richfield, I remember the guy telling me, well, that's a super idea you've got. And can even be done with college students primarily. But the problem is it's not labor intensive enough. And we want to create jobs. So that's a long story, but that gives you some feeling. But I really, we did by the way, my father-in-law brought two walnut trees, volunteers, from our home in Walnut Creek. Kept them in coffee cans for, I think, about two years. And we built our house here and I planted them. Then they just did wonderfully. So sorry to get off on a tangent here.
Bauman: That’s all right. So when you first arrived and started working at Battelle, what sorts of things were you working on initially?
Kathren: I was hired in as the Manager of External Dosimetry. And external dosimetry maintained and calibrated all the portable radiation monitoring instruments used on the site. It was a site wide function. And one of my chief responsibilities was to update the pool of instruments. I think they had some 1,600 instruments. Most of them were pretty old. I think every one of them was home built. They didn't go commercial. And one of my ideas was to go commercial. And I started to build the calibration lab, which now Battelle has—people who took it after me really did a fine job. One of them was Jack Selby, who just passed away and who we mentioned earlier. His group really built it into a—not that it wasn't under me of course, but a first class standards laboratory for radiological calibrations. And also we oversaw the contractor that did the dosimetry, the film badges for the site, and responded to any potential over-exposures from external radiation. That was basically what my initial job here was.
Bauman: And how long did you do that sort of work?
Kathren: I think three years I was in that job. And then Battelle had a reorganization, and I—it was kind of messy, but I chose to stay with my boss. And he had a radiological group that included the dosimetry and so on. But I stayed with them and it did many other assignments. A whole variety of things. I was kind of his go-to-it guy. He was once asked by another manager, how do you manage Ron? And he looked at the guy and said, you don't. [LAUGHTER] He said, you just let him go and do his thing. And if he gets too far down the road you don't want him on, you just jerk him back. [LAUGHTER] But he was really one of the finest people I've ever known. And very good manager.
Bauman: And who was this? What was his name?
Kathren: This was Harold Larson. And Harold was somewhat older than me. And well, we just fit together. For many years later, I was his staff assistant and got all these problems to solve. And it was great fun. Is was a challenge. And you never knew what was going to happen. One of the things we did--that fits in with the history scheme—there were what were called service assessment dollars. All the contractors got assessed. A certain amount—percentage in their contracts to pay for plant-wide services. These included the centralized dosimetry records, and the calibrations group, et cetera. After this organization change, and I was Harold's staff assistant, we used to go out and visit our clients, our customers, every month or maybe every three weeks. Well, they're out in the 200 and 100 Areas. And what we'd usually do is we'd take a car and our lunch and go out and visit one in the morning and then one in the afternoon. And in between, we'd go eat our lunch. And sometimes we'd go to the old Hanford town site. One day we were there—and this shows you how Harold thinks—because he was very quick. So here are a couple of guys in suits—coats and ties anyway—wandering around the old Hanford site, which was not supposed to be open as such. We had badges and our badges permitted us in that area. But up drives a security vehicle. And the guy leaps out it comes up and looks at us. And if you're going to be out there, you probably should be wearing some kind of coveralls or what-have-you. [LAUGHTER] He looks at us and he says, what are you guys doing here? And Harold without missing a microsecond responded, oh, we're out checking our environmental monitoring program. We also had responsibility for the plant-wide environmental monitoring program. And that just was the end of that. But if it had been I to whom that question was posed, I'd probably still be in jail. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So let’s--how long then did you work for Battelle?
Kathren: I worked for Battelle for roughly five years. They had been closing down reactors, there was a lot of unemployment, a lot of people job hunting. Not I. But I had another problem. And that problem was with one of my children who needed special medical care and dental care. I like small towns. In fact, that was one of the real appeals to coming to Richland. But small towns have--and in those days it was really bad--a lack of certain amenities that the big cities have. And at the time there were, I think, two pediatricians in town. One was incompetent and the other was an alcoholic. And here was a child that really needed a lot of—and I didn't—I could see us making lots of trips to Children's Hospital in Seattle. It was very worrying for my wife, by the way. And also Battelle's medical plan at the time had a $25,000 lifetime limit, which they probably would have extended, but we already had quite a bit into that. So, there was a position that came up in Portland working in industry and I jumped on that. It was—I couldn't wait to get back here.
Bauman: And at what point did you come back, then, to Tri-Cities?
Kathren: We came back six years later.
Bauman: So it would have been what year, about, roughly?
Kathren: ‘78.
Bauman: ‘78. And did you come back working at Battelle?
Kathren: I came back to Battelle.
Bauman: And what sort of position or job?
Kathren: I was a staff scientist and Harold Larson's staff assistant.
Bauman: And how long did you, at that point then, remain with Battelle?
Kathren: Well, that's an interesting question. I say it's interesting because I got involved in--I don't know how—but by chance, something I'd always wanted to do. And that was to get involved with the transuranium and uranium registries. And I was doing that. And other program I had was the environmental dose overview for the site. And Battelle had another organization change. I used to joke that Battelle had an organization change, a major change, every other year. And a minor change in every month it didn't have an R in it. So they had this change, and Harold lost the department in a consolidation and so on. And the new department manager was not really a very good manager. And I think he wanted to get rid of all of a people he had inherited from Harold. I being one of them. And I'm on his staff. So that wasn't going the greatest. And working for the registries, that's a different contractor. That's the medical contractor, medical records. And they, for obvious reasons, did not want the medical records removed from their building. You know, there are privacy questions. Even in those days there were serious privacy concerns. And he basically ordered me to stop going over there and bring the things I needed back. Couldn't do it. So I wandered into the President of the Hanford Environmental Health Foundation and basically said, you're paying Battelle so much a year for my time--and I think I was half-time. This might have been only 40%--I said, how would you like me full time for the same money? And how are you going to do that? I said, well, I'll just transfer over here. And I did. I worked out what they call a termination for transfer. So I kept my seniority and so on and went over there. And that was great. That was really outstanding.
Bauman: Do you want to explain what the uranium registry and transuranium registries are?
Kathren: Okay, how many hours do we have? [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Yeah. Quickly, I guess.
Kathren: Back in the late '60s--well, let me start this way--Plutonium is an anthropogenic element. It's manmade if I can use the politically incorrect terminology that everybody still understands. And so our experience with it has come from the Manhattan District, largely. It's a highly radiotoxic element, but there's no animal data except for what was done in the Manhattan District. But animals aren't humans and you need human data. Human information. And what's going to happen to these workers? So they created, in I think it was 1968, the National Plutonium Registry to study plutonium in people. And this was not the usual epidemiologic type study. It was a post mortem study where people in advance of death volunteered to permit an autopsy. Or in some cases a whole body donation. And those tissues would be analyzed then for plutonium. So that we could determine where it went in the body, where it deposited, how long it stayed there, if you got enough data, whether there were any biological effects that you could attribute to it. In other words, we did what are called biokinetics, how it moved through the body. And the dosimetry, et cetera. Well, that was fascinating to me. And I had always wanted to work in that. Well, in the fullness of time, the plutonium registry expanded to other heavy elements including americium. And then a separate parallel uranium registry was created. It's interesting to note that although humans have known about uranium for 200 years, until the Kosovo War, there was interest, there were studies, but there wasn't the concern. Because uranium, always radioactive, natural uranium and depleted uranium are a greater hazard from their chemical toxicity than from their radiotoxicity. So there were these two parallel registries. And ultimately they combined into one. And I guess, does that answer?
Bauman: Yeah, yeah, yeah. That'd be good for you to explain it--
Kathren: Okay.
Bauman: --for people who might want to watch this, yeah. So you've got involved in that. And at some point you also starting teaching at WSU Tri-Cities, is that right?
Kathren: I taught my first class on this campus in 1970.
Bauman: And how did that happen? How did you get involved teaching here?
Kathren: When I came up here, I had been teaching at a community college at night. I'd set up a program in radiation technology and had taught in that community college in California. I like to teach. In fact, I daresay that my happiest hours have been spent in the classroom, providing I have a tall enough lectern so I can duck down when they throw things. But in all seriousness, that is really what I like to do. So I came here and right off the bat, they had a radiation technology program at the local community college. And I taught in that for a year. And then this was--the predecessor to WSU Tri-Cities, was the Joint Center for Graduate Study. And I offered to teach a refresher course for individuals who are going to be sitting for the Health Physics Certification Exam. There's a board certification exam. And sure, why not? That was my first course. The old Joint Center at that time had three university sponsors—Oregon State, Washington State, and University of Washington. And that was done through the University of Washington. And then later I was asked to be a member of the radiological sciences faculty of the University of Washington. Something I did part-time at night. A lot of us did. There were more than 100 adjuncts--UW called them affiliates, but it's the same difference. And so I do that for many years. But a lot of machinations and organization changes. And the perception of people who are affected is far different than the perception of those who make changes [LAUGHTER] as you probably—all you have all found out, I'm sure, in life. Ultimately, the branch campus was created. By that time I had not only an affiliate professorship at U of W, but I also had an adjunct appointment in environmental sciences here. And without going into too much detail, we converted the USTUR, the registry's contract, into a grant and brought it to WSU. This was in ‘92. The official day was Valentine's Day of ‘92, which was a Sunday. But we brought over $3.76 million on a three year grant. And the registries had been subject to a lot of criticism from activist groups. Statements like--and I want to make a point here, so bear with me--these activist groups made all kinds of accusations like body snatchers, et cetera. There's one person in particular, a newspaper reporter, and she was just gung ho. This was a time of real ferment and a lot of anti-nuclear activity. Anyway, we moved them over and I don't think we'd been over here for more than two or three weeks. I had an office in the other building and a secretary. And one day the phone rings and it's some guy from, I think it was the Seattle P.I., but he was from a newspaper in Seattle. This was not extraordinary for me. I have had a lot of dealings with the press. But anyway, he said something about he wanted to know about the registries and about our body snatching. And I said, body snatching? I said, oh, the university wouldn't permit that. And he said, university? What university? I said, Washington State University. The registries are part of WSU. And his words were, oh, well, I guess there's no story then. And he hung up. I never even got the guy's name. [LAUGHTER] So I point this out--you can't always see it face value, things in the newspaper or what-have-you, and realize that you're getting the full story, because one minute we were body snatchers and the next minute, oh, there's no story. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So how long, then, were you connected with running the transuranium registry?
Kathren: Retired in 1999.
Bauman: And so during your time at Hanford, the transuranium registry and so forth, what were your list of some of the most rewarding aspect of the work you were doing? And what was maybe some of the more challenging aspects of what you were doing?
Kathren: Well, this may not be the answer you're seeking, but if you ask me what the most rewarding aspect of my career was--and I've often said I would not swap careers with anybody else. I just had a lot of frustrations, a lot of difficulties--But they’re over here and they're far outweighed by the pleasures. And my greatest was with the students and with teaching. I look back, a lot of my former students wandering around, and I look back on them and the successes that many of them had. I presume you get the same kinds of feelings, Bob, when you see what they do. And I'd think, who are my all-time best students? Well, there's one that--maybe yes, maybe no--was the all-time best--how do you rate the best? But she was certainly one of the top three. And she's now the Chairman of the Nuclear Engineering Program at Oregon State. Another one is one of the Assistant Directors, or whatever, at Battelle. And he's done incredibly well. The third one was a lady that I had known. And when we were in Portland I had association with Reed College. I don't know if you've ever heard of--okay. In any event, she was a big, tall gal. And I'm not very tall, as you know. And she must have weighed at least 220 pounds. Very large, very large woman. And I remembered telling her one day, Ellen, you are arguably my best student. But unarguably my most obnoxious. She was from New Jersey and you can figure--I loved her. I—I might breakup when I tell you this, [EMOTIONAL] but I really did love her. And I'd see her at scientific meetings and she'd run up to me and put her arms around me and it's just great. She came here and got a job on-site. She's a good teacher. She's a great teacher. I remember she's teaching at the community college somewhere in the East, in New Jersey. And that dried up and she got a job out here. And here she was an absolutely brilliant lady. She wasn't all that difficult. You just had to understand her. But she was just wonderful in her technical knowledge and in her drive to get things done. And just wonderful. But she had one thing that was a problem. She got stuck in training because she was a woman. And that's what you did in those days with women and minorities. It's like, they were stuck. Showcased. She wanted to get out and get her hands dirty. No way. So she started looking for another job and she finally found one at University of Arizona. And it was great. She was the radiation safety officer, she also had a faculty appointment, and she and I were actually very close. And we had worked--we were planning to give a one week, special, short course. And we worked out the outline. And we were going to do this the next summer at the Health Physics meeting. In early December I got a phone call from somebody I didn't know, who was her department head, who said that she died. She had valley fever, compromised immune system, 41 years old. And when she knew she was dying, she told him, when she died to please call her mother and me. Dad was dead. That's the kind of thing that—and in other ways, you touch lives. And hopefully you touch them in a beneficial way. Did a lot other things in my career that I had great fun with in the teaching, the registries. That was terrific. I think those were the most productive years of my career. Earlier on, I was involved with radiological measurements, calibrations, and so on. And trying to make our measurements better dose-wise. But I did a whole bunch of things. Even the years I spent in industry at the utility—and boy, did they have a different philosophy--you learn a lot. And I just feel as if I've made a contribution. I've certainly been satisfied.
Bauman: One thing I want to ask you about is your involvement with the Glenn Seaborg papers project. How did that come about? How did you get involved in it and that sort of thing?
Kathren: I grew up in Los Angeles. And I remember taking high school chemistry and learning about the heavy elements. And I was just fascinated by these. So in the back of my mind that was always there. Many, many years later I became the President of the Health Physics Society. One of my colleagues, good friends at the University of Utah, actually said something about, we ought to invite Glenn Seaborg to talk about plutonium. He was a plutonium chemist, this guy. [LAUGHTER] Well, I also had another good friend who had worked with Glenn at the Met Lab. And he said, well, I can just call Glenn. That impressed me quite a bit because Glenn Seaborg, of course, a Nobel Prize winner, former Chancellor at University of California, and worked with [INAUDIBLE]. Just a towering figure. Well doggone if I didn't talk to Glenn and invite him down and he agreed. So I had seen he had written—he was a diarist--and he'd written these diaries for the World War II that were published as internal documents from the Lawrence Berkeley Lab. And I thought, jeez these are terrific. This would make a great book. And edit it, and so on, and identify people. But anyway, he came down to the Health Physics meeting. I had one night free and I set up a reception for him. Just a private reception. And by the way, the guest book from that reception I think I've donated to the archives here. Glenn was just the most humble person. He was great. And I asked him about doing that book. He said, what a wonderful idea. Why don't you do it? [LAUGHTER] So we did. I enlisted the aid of a real historian; that was Jerry Gough. Jerry enlisted the aid of one of his graduate students; that was Gary Benefiel. And we edited and annotated with over 700 biographical sketches. Identified just about everybody in the Section C-1, I think it was, the one that did the plutonium work. Glenn gave it the title. I said, what do you think we ought to call this? Well, The Plutonium Story, of course. But he was great and we had a lot of interfaces after that. I also wanted to—another thing he wrote that I was planning on doing something similar with, but unfortunately Glenn died before that could be done. Does that answer that?
Bauman: Yeah, yeah it does.
Kathren: If you--one quick thing about Seaborg. He came to the meeting, this annual meeting of the Health and Physics Society. I hadn't met him yet. And he's standing in one of the lecture rooms. And he's up on the dais and I'm with this friend of mine who had worked with him. And we walk in and Glenn looks up and my friend says, hi, Glenn! And Glenn looks at him, hi, by first name, you know. And it was just—he's just one of the guys. I've never met anybody—I’ve met, in my day, I've known three Nobel Prize winners. They're all different. One quick story about another one. I was at a meeting in San Francisco and I was doing some work on carbon. And I asked this individual, we were chatting on something about carbon. She's says, oh, I got a big file on it. Why don't you give me your card and I'll send you a paper on that. Okay. So, I gave the individual my card. And about ten days after the meeting, I got a package in the mail. All—I guess the entire file on radiocarbon had been put in there, including a paper that I myself had written. [LAUGHTER] It was apparently unlike Glenn. It was just, well, I'll just send him everything and get him off my back. Glenn would have sat down and well, let's see. What is it you want and how can we best accommodate you?
Bauman: So when was it that you first met Glenn? When was it?
Kathren: Oh gosh, I was Society President I think ‘89 or ‘90, somewhere around there.
Bauman: And so you were very actively involved in the Health Physics Society. How long have you been involved in Health Physics Society?
Kathren: Since 1960. I'm a life member, so they can't get rid of me yet.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And then I wondered if you could talk a little bit about the Parker Foundation? Explain what that is and how that came about.
Kathren: Herb Parker was an interesting person. He was a medical physicist initially. And he was from England, Manchester. Happens my grandmother was for Manchester, but that's neither here nor there. And Herb, in the 1930s, developed along with a physician—radiologist named Ralston Patterson, a technique for doing radium dosimetry. Radium was the only radioactive material. And it was widely used particularly for uterine and cervical cancers. And doing the dosimetry you have to calculate the doses based on the shapes. If they're a needle or some other geometry, calculations can be very difficult. But it's important to know the doses obviously, because you're destroying a cancer, hopefully. And the Patterson-Parker techniques evolved from that. Herb came here in the 1930s. He went to Seattle in the late 1930s to work on what were then called super voltage x-rays, very high energy x-rays. And of course, now we have a lot of high energy stuff which is useful at treating cancer—certain cancers. More useful than and radium. And he went to work for the Manhattan District first at Oak Ridge and was basically hand-picked to come here because of his abilities. Herb was an interesting person. He did not suffer fools gladly. In fact, he did not suffer fools at all. [LAUGHTER] He did a lot of things. He was the first—there was actually a unit. Well, in the old days, all we had was a unit based on air ionization called the rankine. And that worked for x and gamma rays, but it didn't work for other things, particularly, neutrons and beta rays. And Herb really came up with the concept of absorbed energy. Not ionization and air. And he created a unit that enjoyed a short lifespan. It had quantity. Quantity was energy absorbed in matter. The unit was, he called it the rep, for rankine equivalent physical. And it also got the name of the Parker. If you look at an old McGraw-Hill dictionary of science and technology, you'll see the Parker in there. And that later evolved into a more useful kind of thing. It didn't change the basic concept, but he did that. And he set up the program here. Which was remarkable, because we had no real experience with plutonium. Zero. So to shorten that up, Herb was actually the head of the Hanford Laboratories. Under General Electric, the Hanford Laboratories were a research group and they were world famous. When Battelle came in, Hanford Laboratory ceased to exist. Herb was retained as a consultant to Battelle. And ultimately, he passed away. I think in ‘83 or thereabouts. Bill Bair, who you're going to interview I'm sure, had worked closely with Herb. Bill is a radiation biologist and he was manager of the biology department. Or maybe the Life Sciences Center at the time. But anyway, he got Battelle and the Parker family to kick some dollars and start a Parker Foundation, the idea being to give a lecture, public lecture, once a year. And it has since now evolved. It's a separate nonprofit, but tied to WSU. We turned over all our assets to WSU, because Battelle had lost interest in supporting them. Which is understandable, I'm not faulting Battelle for this. They were very generous when they started it. And we promote education, give a couple scholarships out of the endowment, and still try to have that lecture. That lecture was to honor some scientists and to promote public understanding. And we also are interested in history. And so, this should interest you most as an historian, the Parker Foundation will be supporting the RASC collection, or maybe not dollar-wise in any large amount, but that's one of their things. And you should come to one of our meetings, Bob.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] So is there any topic we haven't touched on yet in terms of either your Battelle transuranium registry, anything along those lines, that you would like to discuss? Or that you think would be important to discuss at this point?
Kathren: I'll just—yeah, I’d like to comment on a couple of things. One of the reasons I wanted to come to Battelle—or, it wasn’t Battelle then, I wanted to come to Hanford was, in doing research for my thesis I kept running across these reports. They're very practical, down to earth, and just the kind of thing I like to do. [LAUGHTER] But Hanford wasn't really well known. In fact, one of my profs said, you know, you're going to go out and get a job one day. He said, you ought to go to Los Alamos or some other place, I don’t even remember. Never mentioned Hanford. Which was not extraordinary, because I had hardly heard of it myself. When I went to work for Livermore, we had a lot of plutonium there. And Hanford of course was the plutonium production place. And you naturally pick up things. And they ran this wonderful life sciences symposium. And that's when we came up. And that's when I had my first experience. And the guys from Hanford were just the kind of people that--down to earth, very nice that you could talk to. And I actually applied for a job, it was like 1966, and I didn't know the ins and outs, but the guy I talked to had just been demoted. [LAUGHTER] So, that didn't work out too well. But then a year or so later, that's when Harold Larson came up. But I really--the work that was done here was so different in a sense. The way it was done, it was more practically oriented. Another thing that it intrigued me about this place was, they not only did things differently, but in a lot of ways they were playing catch-up. In fact, maybe you should turn this off, but I'll say it anyway. After I'd been up here for a while I found that a lot of the workers were suffering from a terrible disease known as the Hanford syndrome, which was characterized by three symptoms. The first one was there will always be a government to take care of us. The second one was if it hadn't been discovered here at Hanford, it wasn't worth discovering. And that applied to all levels of things. And the third one was all change is bad. And I'm going to give you an example. It's kind of a fun example. I got a call one day when I had been here a few years and was managing the external dose group. And we bought all these portable instruments from a young engineer who had been asked to obtain what were called, cart poppies. These were not portable instruments, so I didn't have any—they were portable in a sense. They were a huge instrument in a cart. And the poppy referred to the fact that they would make popping noises when they measured alpha particles. And this was I think about 1968, or thereabouts. And he called me up and he asked, do you have the most current plans for the cart poppies? Because we're going to order some and the vendor wants the plans, obviously. And I said, oh, yeah. He said, oh good. The latest ones I can find are like 1956 or thereabouts. Maybe was earlier than that, I don't remember the exact year. And I said, well you've got them. And he was astounded. The arguments were just unbelievable, but basically it was, they worked. We won't change them. He finally ended up ordering 30 of them for $30,000 plus a copy. $1 million. I could have purchased for him, on the open market commercially, a transistorized unit that did everything the cart poppy did, better, and did a heck of a lot more also, for about $300 a copy. [LAUGHTER] But the mentality of a lot of the old timers was such that that was the way it was.
Bauman: So was that one of the challenges that you found then?
Kathren: That was a big challenge for me. Because here I was tasked with upgrading the instrument pool. And how do you get people to change? We've always done it this way. Little things, this instrument's been proven. But we did it. We did it. And that led to--after I left that job and others took it over, they built on that. And now everything is commercial. Not that commercial is better than what you do yourself, particularly if you have a special need, but saved the government a lot of money. Saved the taxpayers a lot of money. And so that mindset has been pretty much gone. But it was really, really strong here. And I remember just one thing that I had in mind. I wanted to change the neutron monitoring instruments. Neutron monitors in those days were big heavy things. And what we used at Hanford was a device that required two separate measurements you carried—it had a handle with a big thing of polyethylene and another instrument package. And you had to take two measurements. It wasn't very good and it wasn't very accurate. The Swedes had developed an instrument we call a REM meter because it actually measured the REM, or biological dose—dose rate. And the Navy was using them. And that's what I wanted to replace these with. I got more static from my own staff. The guys won't use them, this, that and other thing. This was proven, we did it here, and it's wonderful and so on and so forth. But we put them in and now they only need one measurement. And granted, it was big and heavy, but people loved them, because you turn it on and you got a measurement. You didn't have to interpret anything. So there was a lot of resistance to change. And over the years I've thought of that. One has to be very careful. You can't come in, as some people have, well, this is the way we did where I used to work. Well, that doesn't wash. You have to really demonstrate it. Actually, I think what I did was I bought two of these Navy type instruments. Sent them out to the 100 Areas. Try these guys and see if they work. And they loved them. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: That's a great example, yeah. One of things obviously that happened was that the site at some point shifted from a focus on production to focus on clean up. Did that impact you in any ways--your work at all, or not?
Kathren: Not really because I was working at the registries and on other projects that didn't involve cleanup. Although, Mount St. Helens--do you have a few minutes? Okay. The Mount St. Helens eruption was something else. It happened on a Sunday. Actually when it happened, I was in the bathroom, I think. It was in the morning. And I got up late Sunday morning. I think I was brushing my teeth actually [LAUGHTER] when I heard this tremendous bang. And I thought, jeez, my wife must have dropped something in the kitchen. So I yelled out to her and she said, oh, it was a sonic boom. We had neighborhood event, and everybody was—a potluck. And a couple hours later we were walking to the neighborhood event, it was getting dark. [LAUGHTER] There was stuff falling out--if you want some ash, I can give you some ash. But it's very, very interesting. And this will show you my relationship to Harold Larson too. We learned what happened. Well some Battelle scientist talked to a newspaper, I think the Washington Post it may have been, but he talked to a newspaper in the East. And he said that Mount St. Helens had released more radioactivity than the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombs. Just natural radioactivity, which was not correct. Incidentally that morning, there's a lot of dust and so on, and fallout. A lot of interesting things about that that you never hear. The fallout, the lighter pieces carried further, but the fallout at the Yakima airport was very thick and heavy. They had to clear the runways—or, runway I guess. And one of the ideas proposed was to use electromagnet because the fallout contained so much iron that you could actually pick it up with a magnet. There were a lot of other things. There was also a guy who the following day got on the horn, he was driving to work, and he had picked up some ash. And when he got out to the 100 Areas where he worked, I guess he stuck on a counter and came up with the idea that was loaded with radium. Just loaded with radium. He didn't measure the radium directly, he measured the daughter products and back calculated. And that doesn't give you the right answer. He called on one of the radio stations to tell all of the people coming to work to roll up the windows in their cars. I mean this is the kind of--even scientists screw up. In any event, that and the statement of that other scientist about more radioactivity led to a lot of concern. And the President the United States was coming to Portland, I think, to give a campaign speech. And that was Jimmy Carter, by the way. Harold Larson came into my office and said, I want you call DOE right away. Air Force One has some questions. [LAUGHTER] Now that's pretty big because I'm just a little town guy. I mean, really. And I told them that there were errors made in the calculation. And that there was not a huge amount of radioactivity. We had actually pulled some of our environmental monitoring samples and they just showed the normal amount. And the soil was exactly the same as the soil around here. The concentration of radium as was in the Mount Saint Helens eruption. So these people panicked. But anyway, I got to get my oar in. And there's my claim to fame that's never been documented except on this tape, if you keep it in.
Bauman: [LAUTHER] All right, well, that's probably a good place to end.
Kathren: Okay, I'm sorry. You get me wound up.
Bauman: No, that's a great story.
Kathren: There's a lot more that. Let me just quickly give you another piece of it. The guy that had made this pronouncement of all this radioactivity compounded the thing by saying that it was all due to radon. From the decay of radium, radon gas that had built up and created a lot of pressure and caused the explosion. That's just an impossible or very extremely unlikely scenario. We had given him our monitoring data and other things. And he wrote a paper for Science with about 40 authors and did not include any of us using all of our data. Scientists are sometimes not the most ethical and honorable people in the world either, much as I love them. But you know, think of lawyers. Occasionally the barrel has a good apple in it. But anyway, we had to do something. And you're going to interview Joe Soldat Joe and I and Dale Denham—I think you're going to interview Dale also and one other person. Anyway, we wrote a little note for Science calculating out the doses, which defused what they had done. So you wouldn't misinterpret what they had done. Get me off on ethics in science sometime and it's just—
Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Kathren: All right. I've taken all of your time.
Northwest Public Television | Johanson_Richard
Camera man: Okay.
Laura Arata: Are you ready to go?
Camera man: Yeah.
Arata: Excellent. So if I could have you start by just saying your name and then spelling your last name.
Richard Johanson: My name is Richard E. Johanson. And the last name is spelled J-O-H-A-N-S-O-N.
Arata: Thank you. My name is Laura Arata. It is March 5, 2014. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So Richard, I would like to start, if you could just tell us a little bit about how you came to Hanford and where you came from.
Johanson: Well, my folks moved to Benton County--actually it was Prosser--in about 1930, when I was about three years old. And a year later, we moved to Benton City where they resided ever since that time. And I went to school over in Benton City. And so I'm a real native around here.
Arata: Since you did have these kind of early experiences growing up here, from a fairly early time, I wonder if you could talk to me a little bit about what it was like going to school here at that time.
Johanson: Oh, it was fun. It's what you make it, you know. And I went to school in Benton City at Kiona-Benton. And I remember back in about 1943, when they were starting to build the Hanford project, a friend of mine, a schoolmate, who had been displaced from Hanford, and he was going to school in Benton City, also. And he says, you know, I've got a—what’s that--apple press, cider press. And he says, it is over where we used to live over at Hanford. So he said, get your car. And he said, let's go get that cider press. So we did. And they let you in over there to do that then, because we knew. It wasn't because we knew anybody. It was just the fact that, at that point, they didn't have it locked up. And you didn't have to have a badge to get in.
Arata: Do you have any memories, then, of Richland or White Bluffs or any of those communities?
Johanson: Oh yeah. In fact, I played basketball in the school building in White Bluffs. It's just a shell of a building now, I think. But we played basketball there and rode the bus from Benton City to White Bluffs. And we played at Hanford, because they had a separate high school. And it was all exciting for us. I remember stopping in at one of the stores getting stuff. We rode the bus out. And then earlier, it had to be in the late '30s, they used to have boat races over at Hanford, just down on the river. And they were outboard boats. The boats were the pumpkin seed-type race boats. And I remember going with my folks over to the races. And that had to have been probably in the early '30s. Because we went to the Horn Rapids and then the road continued on out as it does now. But I think then it was a gravel road out to Hanford.
Arata: Do you have any particular memories of the boat races? We hear references to them a lot. And I very rarely meet someone who actually witnessed them.
Johanson: Well, there were quite a few boats and probably 15 or 20 boats at least. And they had the old outboard Evinrude type engines on them. And they would go 60, 70 miles an hour. But it was exciting, especially for a nine-year-old.
Arata: I bet. And would they have concessions and things down there?
Johanson: Oh, yeah, they had the usual stuff, hamburgers and so on.
Arata: So that was a full day for you, obviously, the boat races.
Johanson: Oh yeah, it was a big day's trip.
Arata: I'm curious. We've heard a couple references to a circus actually coming to that area. Did you see that?
Johanson: I never saw a circus out there. But I remember going to a circus when I was small. And I think we went to Walla Walla to the circus. And that makes a big impression on young mind.
Arata: Hm. So many questions, where to go next? Could you talk a little bit about where you lived, your parents' property, for example, your housing situation while you were growing up?
Johanson: We didn't have any housing problem, because we lived on a farm. My dad had 70 acres. He was on the Benton County PUD board. And he was on the board of the WPPSS, which is now called Energy Northwest, and was instrumental in getting some of that stuff going.
Arata: So you had electricity then and that sort of thing in your house?
Johanson: Well, the first house we lived in, in Benton City, we didn't have electricity. We had a telephone but no electricity. We had a well. I remember, one time, my brother, older brother, Bob, was playing. He had some soap. And he put it in the old cook stove in the little holes were you lift the lid off. And it was boiling in there. And he thought that was a great funny deal. But it caught fire. And the fire spread, and it was going up the curtains. My dad came running in, and he grabbed a bucket of water that we kept there for drinking. And he threw it all over the fire and put it out. That was a little bit scary.
Arata: Lucky save for dad.
Johanson: Yeah.
Arata: Before I forget, do you have any particular memories of the store at White Bluffs, like what sorts of things you'd stop there and purchase?
Johanson: Well, I think it was a store and a service station, kind of like the convenience stores they have now. But it was just a normal, small grocery store. And that's about all I remember about that. But the bus would stop there. And the kids would go in and get pop and whatever.
Arata: So I understand you started working at Hanford. Could you talk a little bit about when you started working at Hanford?
Johanson: I went to work out there, actually, in '48. I was in the Navy. And I got out of the Navy in '46, 1946. And I worked a year helping my dad out on the ranch. And then I decided I would strike out and work at the big Hanford project, which was exciting for young guys. And I worked there several years. And I worked there as a radiation time keeper, in the tank farms, through '48, '49 and '50 and end of '51 and '52. And my job was to keep track of how much time the workers spent in a hot zone. I'd get the readings from the health instrument man and calculate how long they could spend at that job. Sometimes it was only 10 or 12 minutes before they got a full dose of the maximum radiation they were allowed. And at that time, we were opening up the tops of the tanks. And they were going to install pump pits. And then they were also putting in pipe trenches and stainless pipe, large 8, 10 inch diameter piping. And the idea, at that time, as I understood it, was for reprocessing, which they eventually decided not to do, under one of our presidents, decided not to do reprocessing. But that was in 1950, '51. And we had to use jackhammers to open up to the top of the tank. And the workers, with the jackhammers, had to have jackhammer bits that were about 18 feet long. Because that would let the operator of the jackhammer stay back away from the open pit. And he can work longer that way. And the same way when they'd jackhammer the concrete. And it fell down into the tanks, obviously. And then they had--of course, there was rebar in those, too. So they had put a cutting torch on the end of long pole, probably between 15 and 18 feet long, so they could cut the rebar to open the tanks up. And in cutting the rebar, it would fall down in there, too. So a lot of those chunks of concrete are probably still there. And that was 60 some years ago.
Arata: Did you have any other jobs at Hanford after that time?
Johanson: Well, I worked for a while in the cannery, where they canned the uranium. And I was in the 300 area, just north, not too far here, probably a half mile from here. And that entailed--they would bring their uranium in, in long rods, about an inch and half in diameter in boxcars. And then they would come into--lathe operators, operating a lathe. And they would turn down the outer part of the rod. And then they would come in certain lengths to be canned in aluminum cladding. And so we were working there at that job for a while. And it was interesting, the uranium shavings from the lathe would fall down, and they'd catch on fire, kind of like magnesium does. So they had to keep putting out the fires of the burning uranium shavings.
Arata: And how long did you work there at 300?
Johanson: Not very long. It was just a few weeks I think. We had to wear all kinds of protective clothing. And it was so hot in there, they had an air conditioning tube coming down to each worker. So I didn't care for that.
Arata: And what did you do after that?
Johanson: Pardon?
Arata: What did you do after that?
Johanson: Well, I got into ironworking for a while. And I worked out there as an ironworker and worked there about a year as an ironworker in the tank farm areas. And then I went down to McNary Dam and went to work down there for the final push on getting McNary Dam finished. And then in '53, I also worked on the missile bases out in the area and over in Wahluke Slope, across the river from Hanford. And it was the Nike missiles that we were installing at that time. And that was before I went to McNary. And then after that, then I bunched it all and went into the insurance business. [LAUGHTER] So I was in the insurance business for the next 20 years or more, with various--a couple of companies. I was a division manager in Wenatchee for a number of years. And then I was with the superintendent of agencies for a company out of Salem, Oregon. And after that, I went into the construction business in the '70s and had a construction company, built maybe 100-and-some houses around here.
Arata: So of your time working at Hanford, could you describe kind of a typical day or anything that stands out?
Johanson: Well, it depends whether it was a cold day or a warm day. Some days, we had a shack that we stayed in when we weren't out actually on the job. And our downtime, we would have to spend in the shack, because they didn't want you wandering around the project. So we would do that. And then we'd go out do the work we were doing. When I was working as an ironworker, I worked in construction of the pipe trenches and so and the tanks. And if it was cold weather, we really hung around the stove. And then we'd eat lunch in there also. And when we went in there and left, we had, what they called, I think, a fivefold counter. You'd put your hands in and your feet. And it would count to see if you had any radiation or contamination of any kind. And once in a while, you'd have some. And they had a shower there where they'd have to shower people down if they had quite a bit of contamination. And I know there were several instances where they got quite a bit on them, and they had to work with them for a long time to get all the radiation, the contamination off.
Arata: Were there any ways that sort of the security or secrecy at Hanford impacted your work?
Johanson: Well, we were always told to keep our mouths shut, which we didn't know what they were building out there in the '40s anyway. But some people, they didn't have any idea. They said, well, there's so much sand out there, they're making sandpaper. [LAUGHTER] And then another little kid said, well, he said, I think they're making toilet paper, because my dad brings a couple rolls home every night. [LAUGHTER] So nobody knew what they were making, so they had to imagine what it might be.
Arata: How, overall, was Hanford as a place to work? Was there anything particularly rewarding or particularly--
Johanson: Well, it was rewarding in the fact that it was extremely interesting. And it was a huge job, with 50,000 workers back in the middle '40s. And while that was going on, I was in the Navy over in the Pacific somewhere, there in the Philippines and Okinawa and Shanghai, China, and so on.
Arata: Sounds like maybe you could talk, just briefly, about having had that experience of being part of the war and the war effort against Japan. How did you feel when you found out it was our plutonium, from this area, that built that bomb?
Johanson: Well, everybody was extremely elated to find out that our project out there had helped end the war. And because it was in the first atomic explosion, in, well, New Mexico, I guess it was, wasn't it? Yeah, and it was also the Nagasaki atomic bomb. But you couldn't help but feel some real distress over the fact of how many people it killed. And it was a very sobering thought. On the other hand, if we hadn't of used them, they would have probably cost a million lives of the Japanese and the Americans, because they weren't going to give up. And that would've been the battle to the bitter end. So I was down in the South Pacific somewhere when they dropped the bombs. And so we were kind of thankful, because we were going to be heading up there to try and finish it off. The ship, you may remember hearing about it, who was the USS Indianapolis, a cruiser, and they had taken one of the atomic bombs to--was it Tinian, I think. And it was secret journey, naturally. And they got torpedoed and sunk. It wasn't probably about 500 miles from where we were in the South Pacific. And there was about, I think, 800 of them didn't survive. And they couldn't even get rescued, because they were on a secret journey, and nobody knew where they were, not many people. And it was pretty grim. And from there, we went up to Okinawa. We were up there for a while. And it was a pretty bad spot there. Most of the fighting was over. It was over then when I went up there. And I had a friend who was up to the mountains. I don't know what they were doing up there. But he was a corpsman in the Navy. But he was up there with some Marines. And they were living in tents up in the mountains, in the hills. And it sounds pretty gross, but they would go out, every day. And the war was over. It was actually over. They'd go out everyday and hunt Japs. And this guy, he told me, he says, it's just like hunting jackrabbits at home. [LAUGHTER] So it was pretty sobering also. Because they were--you know, the Japanese, a lot of them thought the war was still on. And they didn't know that it was over. And you couldn't blame them. They were trying to do their job. Oh, that was really a sad situation. And we were anchored out of a bay there. There was typhoon showed up. We put up out to sea, and we were three days. That typhoon kept going just for three days. In the daytime, it was almost like nighttime. And there were a couple hundred small craft that didn't make it, little mine sweepers and things. People talk about waves that are 100 feet high? There really are. But to get back to working out at Hanford, there were a lot of people. We had people that we let them put their trailers in our backyard, because they didn't have any place to stay. And they just had little camp trailers. Rather than stay in the big trailer court at out Hanford, they preferred to stay like where we had shade trees and so on. And their kids went to school there. And then the two fellows that stayed in our backyard, their names were Bill and George Gale. And they'd come out from Kansas. And they came out to work at the Hanford project. And they worked out there was as machinists and welders. And then they saved their money and not long after that initial construction, they opened up a car dealership. And then they eventually moved to Yakima and had a car dealership. And they had the White Bus dealership. White Trucks, that was a brand name. And they sold dozens and dozens of those buses to the Hanford project. And so if anybody, your folks or anybody, can remember working out there and riding the green buses, those all came from their shop, Bill and George Gale.
Arata: How many people would you say camped out there at any one time?
Johanson: In our backyard?
Arata: Mm-hm.
Johanson: Them and they had families, the two of them, their wives and children. And then one of them's father and his wife and a younger sister of them lived out there also. And we enjoyed having them. I was in high school at that time before I left to go to the Navy. And they were good mechanics, so they helped me keep my car running. I had a Ford Roadster—
Arata: Nice.
Johanson: --back then. In fact, I still have a Ford Roadster. I belong to the Old Car Club of the Tri-Cities. And I have four, old cars.
Arata: Wonderful.
Johanson: A '32 Ford Roadster and a 1931 Model A Coupe, they both have rumble seats, and then a '63 Thunderbird Landau and 1954 Kaiser Manhattan.
Arata: Wow. We've heard a couple stories of people going out and actually finding cars on the Hanford site.
Johanson: Oh, yeah, back then, they'd find cars out there that people had left. And of course, now they'd be a treasure trove. But there were a lot of cars out there that people just abandoned when they got kicked off their property, evicted. That was a tough deal for a lot of people. Some of them spent their whole lives out there. And they had farms and orchards and families and, of course, the schools. And they were just plain evicted. And they didn't have much time. So a lot of them moved to Richland and Benton City and Kennewick and Pasco. And it was an exciting time, and it was a sad time at the same time. But it was pretty exciting for a guy that was 15, 16 years old.
Arata: I wonder if you can maybe just talk a little bit about some of the changes when people started pouring in to this area to start building this site.
Johanson: Oh, it was pretty grim at times, because you had so many people coming in, and they were out in the men's barracks and so on. And they'd have murders. And I remember my mother was on the federal jury in Yakima, had a couple of murder cases. You know, you get that many men in one spot, some of them aren't going to get along. We had a lot of gambling and throwing the dice and card games. It was like a den of iniquity. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: Now, did you ever come to Richland, as maybe a teenager, and witness any of these changes?
Johanson: Well, yeah, over two or three, four years, you can remember the construction and the building of the houses, all the alphabet houses and the prefabs. Of course, all the prefabs were built without foundations. And there was a lot of work in the later years of contractors putting in foundations on the prefabs that hadn't had any. And the prefabs were heated with a portable 220 volt heater, about 2,000 or 2,500 watts. In fact, I have one in my shop from way back in the '40s. And it still works, the 220 volt heater. And you could buy them, but I doubt if you could find them nowadays. We had the movie theater, out here, at Hanford, here, not far from where we’re at right now. In fact, it was just up the road here, south of here. And they had gigantic mess halls. And I worked out there as a teamster for a while, too, as a truck driver and swamper. So you worked in a warehouse. And we had plenty of off time. We'd throw dice. It was always fun to gamble a little bit. We couldn't go out to Toppenish, to the Legends Casino then. [LAUGHTER] Oh, yeah.
Arata: Is there anything else that stands out to you about the community life in Richland during that time?
Johanson: What? Pardon?
Arata: Is there anything else that stands out about community events or community life in Richland?
Johanson: Yeah, they used to have a Richland celebration. I forget what it was called, Frontier Days or something, I believe.
Arata: Atomic Frontier Days.
Johanson: Yeah. And we come down and watch the parade. And it was interesting, very interesting and a lot of fun. And we'd also, up where the Lutheran church is, on the corner of Van Giesen and-- what is that other street that runs north and south? Anyhow, where the Lutheran church is now, there used to be a grange building. It was an old wooden building. And they held grange meetings there. And we used to go there. And they'd have dances in the old building. I don't believe it was a church at that time. Van Giesen was how you came from Benton City to get into Richland. And you'd turn right there and go down that street. And it was all alfalfa fields around here then. So that building was out in the middle of nowhere then, on the corner of Van Giesen. And they had fairs. And people would bring their canned goods and have it judged. My dad's two older brothers were bachelors, John and Charlie Johanson. And they lived in Benton City. And those two old bachelors, they canned stuff and beautiful products that they'd put out. And they'd go down and win prizes and ribbons at the fair, little fair they'd have there at the old dance hall. That was probably before Hanford. And as it spread out and started building houses for the project, then all those alfalfa fields became developments. I've had a lot of friends that lived in the alphabet houses. They were there well-built buildings. They're still standing. And a lot of them are overhauled and remodeled, but there's still a lot of fine houses that are still here from the old days.
Arata: Yeah. So was there a fairly substantial influx of students to your school then?
Johanson: Back before Hanford, Benton City School used to play Richland, because they were in the same league then. Because Richland was only about 300 people. And they had the families--I remember some of their names, the Van Dynes, they had a big family. And they played. We used to play them in basketball, against the Van Dyne brothers. And there were several others. I can't remember their names now. A lot of good athletes came out of Richland even during that time. And as they got bigger and bigger, larger, Richland High became a real force in the sports competition.
Arata: So J.F.K. visited Hanford in 1963. Were you around for that?
Johanson: In '63? No, that's when I lived in Wenatchee. I was division manager for Prudential Insurance Company up there.
Arata: Okay. So you worked at Hanford until about 1954? Do I have that correct?
Johanson: I worked until 1953.
Arata: ’53.
Johanson: A lot of places now, that were places I remember then, were like the corner by where the post office is now. And across the street, there's some offices on the west side of Jadwin. And that used to be a huge, big drugstore. And a lot of people would just hang out there, because they had a soda fountain. And it was an interesting place to be, meet all the young folks around there.
Arata: I imagine it must've been exciting meeting people from all different places.
Johanson: It was, because you'd meet people from all over the United States. People would come up from the South, the Midwest, as far as Florida. It would really broaden your scope, a lot more than being just raised in a little, dinky town, and then meeting all the people from the big cities and the eastern part of the United States. And they were different, the same but different. And when Bill and George Gale, they'd got to our place and parked their trailers under the trees, their dad was going to come out. And of course, they had accents. From Kansas to us, they had an accent. And George, he called, talked to his dad. We had an old telephone that was on the wall. You know, you had to crank it. He talked to dad back in Kansas. And he said, "wull," he says, dad, he says, if you have "tar" trouble, "wor" us. If you have tire trouble, wire us. [LAUGHTER] That was the way they talked. To us, it was humorous, but that's, you know, that's the way they were.
Arata: You sounded a little funny to them, too.
Johanson: They were wonderful people, too. Wonderful people.
Arata: Now how did that come about that they came to camp on your property?
Johanson: Well, they didn't want to stay out on the huge trailer camp out in Hanford. And they'd rather drive back and forth and have their kids go to the school, local school. And then it was kind of a paradise compared to some places, with great big shade trees. And the trailers were in the shade. It was good, a lot better place than being out in the desert.
Arata: So they just happened to run into your dad somewhere?
Johanson: I don't know. I think what they did was they were traveling around, scouting around, and they saw our place. And there weren't many places to stay at all. So they were extremely happy to find a place in order to park. And they were there about two years, I think.
Arata: So they would pay your dad some sort of rent?
Johanson: He charged them some rent. But it was really low, like $15 a month or something like that. Of course, wages weren't high then, either, because they were about--they were under $2 an hour at that time. I did a stint of--when I was ironworking, we went up to Coulee Dam. And I worked up there for a while and started out at $1.85 an hour and doing hard work. Now, the minimum wage is going over $10 an hour. We'd have thought we'd died and gone to heaven if we could get $6 an hour.
Arata: Right. So were wages at Hanford comparatively better to what you?
Johanson: Oh, they were better then. Because there, on the farm, we'd hire people to pick potatoes in sacks. And they'd get maybe like $0.02 or $0.03 a sack for picking them. If they were good, they'd make $2 or $3 a day. And the wages were like $0.25 an hour back in the '30s and into the time the project started. And then all the wages started going up to where you could make $75 a week. Even as an ironworker, I'd make about $75 a week. And then that work on down at McNary Dam, I was a foreman down there. And I got $2.25 an hour, so really cashing in. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: So I wonder--most of my students do not remember the Cold War. It's like a foreign time period for them.
Johanson: Right.
Arata: Do you have any thoughts that you think it's important for the next generation to know about what America's role was during that time?
Johanson: Well, the main role of keeping the peace and balancing the competition with Russia. It wasn't just Russia then. It was their whole group of countries that are separate countries now. And we know about, with the Ukraine and so on, what's going on right now. But it was a pretty scary at times. I remember where there was a time when everybody was putting in bomb shelters. And they were teaching kids to duck and cover in the schools. Get next to a concrete wall and cover your head as if that would have done any good. But we didn't have much else, much other choice. And a lot of people did put in bomb shelters. But I think in the end, it was not backing down. I think all of our Presidents have been outstanding, not just one or two, but from Roosevelt on up, through the start of World War II, and people like Harry Truman. It took a lot of guts to order them to drop the bombs on those poor people over there in Japan. And then continuing on, they were all good Presidents, I think. And they all played a role, whether they were Republicans or Democrats. You got to be good to get to be President. You have to have something on the ball. I won't get in to any politics.
Arata: You can if you want to. [LAUGHTER] I’m curious, if you could talk for just a moment. It's kind of a side note to working at Hanford. But do you recall where you were when Pearl Harbor was bombed?
Johanson: Yeah. It was in school time. School wasn't out. And the next day, we had an assembly. They had an assembly in the large auditorium at the school there in Benton City. They had the radio on. And we were listening to President Roosevelt with his famous speech. And that was quite a--really, the kids were scared. Everybody was scared that they were going to be coming here, bombing us, too. And they probably could have. And they probably would have except for the Japanese admiral that warned them not to. He said because, if you get over there and try to invade the United States, he said, there will be a gun behind every blade of grass. So he says, don't do it. That was probably a slight exaggeration, but he got his point across. [LAUGHTER] There was probably a gun behind every two blades of grass. Every blade of asparagus. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: That's the end of my questions. Is there anything that I haven't asked you about that you'd like to talk about, any other stories that stand out to you?
Johanson: Mm. I remember a story about when they completed the N Reactor. It was a dual-purpose reactor. It produced uranium, for the war effort, for the military and also electricity. And I have a program from when President Kennedy came out and gave a speech and turned on the reactor. If I can find it here. And I would like to--if you guys would like to have it—
Arata: We’d love to—
Johanson:--for your work, I'd like to donate it.
Arata: Oh, really?
Johanson: It shows President Kennedy on the front. Let's see. All the official program and the story behind it, the atomic wand that he used. The atomic wand, it shows him using the wand to start the reactor and pictures of notables here. There are pictures up here. My dad, he was on the board of Washington Public Power Supply System at that time. And they were instrumental in getting the N Reactor going. And he was out there. His name is in there, Robert. His name was Robert Johanson.
Arata: So your father was there. Did you get to witness this?
Johanson: No.
Arata: But your father did?
Johanson: Yeah, he was out there, allegedly, one of the dignitaries.
Arata: So did your father get to meet President Kennedy?
Johanson: Oh yeah, they all got to meet him.
Arata: Are there any stories about that day that he ever told you?
Johanson: Like everybody else, they were all agog at getting to meet the president, President Kennewick—Kennedy. And so that was an exciting time for them. And literally thousands of people went out to the event.
Arata: I've never seen an actual program.
Johanson: Oh, that's one of the original ones that they got. And I think it would be maybe useful in your teaching.
Arata: Yes, we would love to digitize this and make it available on our project website.
Johanson: I was instrumental in starting an insurance company here, too. And there's a picture.
Arata: So this is your--is this you or your father? This is you.
Johanson: That's me. Yeah. Then also there's a big deal. Here's an old newspaper. This is Friday, February 18, 1966. That was the Tri-City Herald. And there's yours truly, right there.
Arata: These are great.
Johanson: And we employed people. And we sold stock all over the State of Washington.
Arata: Wow, we would love to take some images of this. And we're happy to get it back to you.
Johanson: Okay, sure.
Arata: We have a big scanner. We can get a full scan of the whole thing.
Johanson: Oh, great, yeah. It's kind of a yellowed newspaper after--how long has that been now?--50 years.
Arata: A while. Wow. Yes, we would love to make this available.
Johanson: And we had people, we had people on our board of directors that were like Sam Volpentest. He was a big name here, you know. He was a mover and a shaker. This was a brochure we had. It shows all of the board of directors and so on.
Woman off screen: Sam Volpentest was really instrumental in keeping the money come out here for further development out in the area. So the economy kept going on here. Along with what's his name? Who was the representative? Skip? It was Skip something. Is that the right guy? There was a legislator who did a lot of good work for us too. But Sam Volpentest, there's lots of stuff named after him now. He was a big guy.
Arata: There you go. I just learned something.
Johanson: Pardon?
Arata: I just learned something important.
Johanson: Oh. Yeah, if I could have those back when you're finished.
Woman: Of course. In fact, I can take them.
Arata: We can, actually.
Woman: If we're finished up, I can take them right down and bring them back. Is there anything else?
Arata: Can you do that? Yeah, is there any other stories you'd like to share with us, anything else?
Johanson: I'll probably think of a lot when I get home.
Woman: That's usually how it works.
Johanson: Well, the one about going out and getting the cider press. I think we were going to make some hooch or something.
Arata: [LAUGHTER]
Johanson: Hard cider.
Arata: And did you?
Johanson: I think so. Yeah. But we used to--you know, Hanford and White Bluffs were our opposing teams, because they were in the same league. And Richland was in the same league then. I think Prosser and Grand View, I think they were playing football. We had football. Benton City had never had football until I was a senior in high school there. And then we had football. We lost almost every game, because none of us had played football before. But by then, Hanford and White Bluffs, they didn't have football either. Kennewick and Pasco did and Prosser and Grand View. And our quarterback broke his arm, so he played the rest of the season with his arm, left arm in a cast.
Arata: With a cast on and kept playing? [LAUGHTER]
Johanson: Yeah, he kept playing, believe it or not. [LAUGHTER] Trying to think of some other things associated with Hanford. It was a big part of our lives, because that was the big deal. And the towns and Richland jumped from 300 people to several thousand almost overnight. And even out at the Richland Y, there were a lot of businesses out there at that time. Originally, there was only one business there. When you went from like Kiona to Kennewick, you would go through the Richland Y. And there was a service station there, and that's all there was there at that time. And eventually, there got to be several stores and restaurants and so on there, too. But there were a lot of people, they'd go to work, and there'd be a termination wind, a good old Tri-City windstorm with the dust blowing. And there would just be a line of them heading back home to where they came from, whether it be Kansas or Oklahoma or whatever. But they came out here, and a lot of them stayed, because it was still better than where they'd come from. Because a lot of them came right out of the Dust Bowl in Oklahoma. If you've ever seen the movie Tobacco Road, that's an old movie, it's good to get it and watch it. It gives you an idea of what things were like back then. Those were the people. And they'd come into town with old cars, old Model A Fords and so on. And they'd have suitcases and trunks up on top, tied down with ropes, and old trucks and everything. It looked like an evacuation of a war zone. And a lot them would just camp along the road, between the Y and Kennewick. Of course, the road went down where the park is now. And there were farms along there. A lot of the people coming into town to work would stop and camp along there, along the way, because they probably camped along the way, all the way up from wherever they came from, the Midwest. And then you had a lot of more sophisticated people, like the scientists, too, that came out. But they were the ones who got the plumb housing.
Arata: Hey.
Johanson: And you had the top-notch people, like Fermi and people like that that were the fathers of the atomic era. They lived here, too, some of them. Some of them just came out from Chicago and places like that to work. So like I said, I'll probably think of a lot more things when I get home.
Arata: Always. Well, I want to thank you so much for coming in and spending this time with us and sharing your memories.
Johanson: That's okay. At my age, you have a lot of time on your hands.
Arata: It was wonderful.
Johanson: Time on your hands! [LAUGHTER]
Arata: Lots of stuff we hadn't heard before, so it was really great.
Johanson: Pardon?
Arata: You had lots of stuff.
Northwest Public Television | McCollough_William
Robert Bauman: So let's start by just having you say your name, and spell it for us.
William McCullough: Okay, I'm William McCullough. W-i-l-l-i-a-m M-c-C-u-l-l-o-u-g-h.
Bauman: Thank you. Today's date is October 22nd of 2013 and we're conducting this interview on a campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So let's start, if we could, by having you tell us how you came to Hanford, what brought you here, how you heard about the place, that sort of thing.
McCullough: Well, back in 1950, my brother Dee--he was working here at Hanford—he came up here in 1944. And in fact he was in a reactor at the time that they started B Reactor up. Anyway, he came down to Salt Lake, which is where I was living, just before Christmas time. I was working for Utah Willow Mills at the time, as a shipping clerk. My wife was pregnant, and it became pretty obvious that a shipping clerk and a wife with a baby just is not going to make it. We don't have enough money. So I knew I had to change jobs. He came up and said, well, if you'd like to, I could probably get you on at Hanford, if you want to come up there. I said okay, let's check into that. Well, I sent in an application, and all of a sudden, all the neighbors started getting visits from the FBI, to check my background. And they finally decided, okay, I guess he’s safe enough. And so, I came up here in August 27, 1951 and started work here. Before I came up here though, I--Whoops, there it goes. Of course, I was born in Salt Lake. And we just had wonderful parents. I hated to leave them, but I thought, oh, I’ve just got to improve myself.
Bauman: And so—
Man one: No worries.
Bauman: Oh, okay. What sort of work did you start with, when you arrived in 1951? What sort of job did you have?
McCullough: [LAUGHTER] Well, we left Salt Lake. I was working, like I said, at Utah Willow Mills. And I worked half the day, went home, and my dad and my wife's grandfather, they loaded up this big U-Haul trailer. In fact, I haven't seen one as big, it was a Croft trailer. It was built out over the wheels, on the trailer. And they kept putting that stuff on, and putting stuff on, and putting stuff on. And finally, I said Dad, you know, it's not going to all go on there. And he said, there's no top on the trailer, why can't you? And it was very top heavy. Find out I was going to have trouble, because the first time I tried to stop at a stoplight, I couldn't. [LAUGHTER] But anyway, drove up there, left on a Saturday night. We stopped at Jerome, Idaho, and then continued on driving, and we got into town at about 2:30 in the morning. Really worn out, crying baby. At the time we had this little girl that was just five months old. And pulled in my brother's yard, he had lived in an R house, which is a very nice house, with a full basement. He told us, you could live here until you get housing. So he pulled me there, and we went out to the employment office. It was 8 o'clock in the morning, and we checked in, and it took about an hour, and they said, well, we're going to send you out to the 300 Area to work. But we’re not going to do it today; you can go home and take the rest of the day off, report there tomorrow. Oh boy, just what I needed. And sure enough, we went and got introduced to the 300 Area, the next day, on Tuesday.
Bauman: What were your first impressions of Richland, and the area, when you first arrived?
McCullough: Well, that first day?
Bauman: Or, in those early days when you first came here.
McCullough: Well, I realized it's quite a small town, but I was quite impressed with it. In fact, we've always enjoyed it, living here. It is, it's smaller, but enjoyable.
Bauman: So you said you started work at the 300 Area, what sort of work were you doing?
McCullough: Well, the 300 Area--I don't know if you're familiar with this, but their main job was to make the fuel elements. The uranium came in billets, and they put them in an extrusion press and put them out into rods, 20 feet long. And then they'd send it over to the 313 Building, where they'd machine it to the diameter, and then they would can it. And the uranium really oxidizes fast. So as soon as they machine it, they've got to use it. And of course, they gave it a nitric acid bath, before they can it. And then they sent it over to the canning and dipping line, or what we liked to call it, the dip’n’dunking line, to can it. If you went over to—well, your canning line consisted of four molded, molten metal pots. Each pot had a different metal in it, all molten, very hot. And we essentially canned metal. And to do this, we had to have full coveralls on, we had gloves that went from here, all the way up to here. We had a hood to protect us. And spats on our feet, to protect our shoes from the splattering metal. And the canning line was extremely uncomfortable, [LAUGHTER] and it was not unusual to get a splash, as I said, that metal is running at 550 degrees, so it's pretty hot. And it was kind of an uncomfortable place to work, but the pay was good. We worked two weeks of day shift, and one week of swing shift, which was a nice shift. But we actually had this—they would take your metal, and put it in the first pot, and agitate it. And it would come out this pot, and put into a centrifuge, and throw off all the excess metal. And then they put it into a second pot. I could tell you what it was, but it might be classified, I don’t want to get in trouble. They put it into this next molten metal pot. And again, work it in there a bit, leave it for so many minutes, take that out and put in a centrifuge. There was a clock on the wall, which was going very slowly, and it'd tell you exactly which cycle it was supposed to go into. You'd say okay, pot one, and then you came over and it'd say centrifuge, and you'd put in the centrifuge. And you go on to the next one, pot two, centrifuge, and you go down to—well, you wait for the pot three. And there you washed them a little bit, to make sure you get all, everything off it. And then they pick them up and take them over to the next pot, which is molten metal also, and you'd actually slip them into the cans, under the molten metal, to can them. And you put a little cap on it, and then take it out and move it over to the quench tank, to cool it down. And after they got through there, you'd take it down to a fluoroscope, take the newly canned metal, uranium. And they could see the end of your metal, and so they'd say, okay, we need to cut this can back to here, so far. So they’d cut it to size, to the length they wanted, and then they sent it to the next station, and welded the cap onto it. And then they had to take it out to the next station, another fluoride, to make sure that it was cut right, they made sure it's to specs. And then they'd take it to the next station and they had what they called a frost machine, and they'd run it through induction coil and they'd spray this frost on it and it went through and tried to bake it on. And if it's any air pockets or anything in the can, it would show up and they'd have to discard it and start over again. If it didn't show as it having any air pockets in it, they'd put it into a pallet. The pallet held 300 slugs, pieces of metal, and ship it out to the 100 Areas. And so as a result, as an operator you worked the canning line and also each of the other stations. You rotated so to kind of share the canning line with everybody.
Bauman: You mentioned that the metal could sort of splash and get on the protective clothing?
McCullough: Yes. As I say, we had these leather gloves and this asbestos covering all the way up to the shoulders to protect our arms. And we also had a full face shield over us and a hood. But you still got splatter occasionally and there's something about that molten metal and all the clothes you have on that no matter how many times you take a shower you had this odor about you. It just kind of bakes in. And so my wife could always tell when I was working the canning line. And it was dangerous. We took our break one time--we got a 10-minute break in the morning and 10-minute break in the afternoon and of course a lunch break—but while we was on a break they brought in what they called a coverage crew. Because these furnaces, they're going to keep generating the same amount of heat. So they had to try and maintain the temperature of the pots so that when we as operators came back in, that the pots would be ready to go again. So they'd stir them. They had a big paddle, they'd stir them. Well, this particular paddle had a flaw in it, and this coverage guy, he would take these paddles and put them all in the quench tank to cool it down and then he'd go and stir it. Well, that paddle had a flaw in it and got just a dab of water in it, and when he put that down into it, it blew up. The ceiling was about 20 feet high, and it splattered that ceiling. It just emptied that pot out. You wouldn't think a few drops of water would do it. And then it came down on top of him. Very severe burns. We all worked out there for 150 years, and it's the only time I've ever saw that somebody got hurt. Safety was always stressed so hard out there. They didn't want accidents. But that's the only time that I ever saw it, and it's scary. And they made sure enough that you do not put these paddles in water.
Bauman: And about what time frame would it have been when that accident occurred?
McCullough: That would have been 1951, or '52, because I went out to 100 Areas in 1954, so it would have been in the time frame of '51—it would have been that three-year time frame.
Bauman: You said that operator was severely burned. Did he recover?
McCullough: Oh yeah. I think he may have come back on disability, though. Because he was very severely burned.
Bauman: So you worked as an operator there for about three years?
McCullough: From 1951 to 1954. In 1954, I went out—up until 1954, your seniority was all one. To work in the reactors, you had to start 300 Area, and it's all on seniority. And when you got enough seniority in 300 Area, usually you would go to the 100 Areas. Well just in 1953 or what have you they said, we're going to one chance one chance only. If you want to go to the 100 Areas you go right now. If you don't take it now, you'll be a whole new seniority group. You'll start at the bottom again. So my wife and I, we got to thinking about it, didn't want round-the-clock work, but I knew I didn't want to work the Canyon Line all my life either. So at that point I went out there in January 1954, I went out to the 100 Areas to work.
Bauman: And so your job in the 100 Areas was as an operator?
McCullough: As an operator. Your operators out there they had a pile operator that then they decided pile operator doesn't sound right, we’ll call them reactor operators. We had the reactor operator and then had the utility operator, which is essentially an operator that doesn't have the seniority or the knowledge to advance to become a reactor operator. So I went out there as a utility operator, and they have what they called a roving crew, which is they rotate from all the different reactors. Any time the reactor is shut down, they would go ahead and assist them and give the reactor crew some help. Because there was also a lot of overtime because of it. So I was put on this supplemental crew as a utility operator, and I worked out there for about a year, and they shift me into the C reactor. At that time the C reactor was the newest reactor, and they put me in there as the utility operator to work. And so I worked there as a utility operator. What it meant was I couldn't sit at the control board, and I worked outside the control room pretty well. Didn't work in the control room hardly at all, only on an as-needed basis. Worked with a fellow by the name of Ted Lewis. Can I put names?
Bauman: Sure.
McCullough: I worked for him. He was a supervisor and the control room specialist was Cliff Brenner. Both were very strict, and if this is what the book says, this is what you are going to do. Well, I worked there at C reactor for a bit, and they were starting to get hurting for pile operators or reactor operators, and my boss Ted Lewis came out and said, Bill, you are not qualified, but I'm going to qualify you if they promise that they will not shift you out and take you away from me until you get trained. And so on that stipulation, after a year out there as a utility operator, I was made a pile operator. And at that time I could sit at the control room and take my turn at the control board with Cliff Brenner looking over my shoulder, and Ted Lewis looking over his shoulder came out pretty good. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Can you explain maybe a little more detail what the sort of task that sitting at the control board would mean? What sorts of tasks were you're doing? You're sitting at the control board. What are you looking for? What sort of things are you keeping your eye on?
McCullough: The old reactors they had nine control rods to control the reactor. C reactor, they put in 15 total, and when you sat at the control board you had these selsuns which shows the position of the rods and you had the instrument down here showing essentially where the temperatures of different tubes to give you an overall picture of what the temperature of the reactor is. And so you just sit there and then you had a galvanometer up here showing a change of power level. And then up here you had a big dial which showed you the actual power level. The power level indicator up here is very slow. It's calculated by taking the inlet temperature water and the outlet temperature water, and doing a bunch of calculating through the factors and it comes out as this is your power level. But this is very slow. It takes about three minutes to catch the actual changes and catch up. So you watch this galvanometer to get your fill in for if the power level changes at all, and then you go ahead and pull the rods in or out as needed to hold the power level. And you have the temperatures monitoring showing you where the heat might be shifting to. And so you try to maintain a good, even distribution of the power. Of course the chief operator or the specialist is telling you what you need to do, and sometimes you have to move or swap rods because the temperature is changing quite rapidly. The thing about that called Xenon poisoning, which it's—pours out portions of the reactor, so we have to find out all the time. So the heat is a continual movement all the time, and so we had to know it. And so that's what we were doing at the control board. We had two operators inside the control room, and each operator would sit for two hours at the control board, and the other operator would be walking around the control room, taking readings, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. And then you'd swap. The interesting thing about it, I don't know, when you work graveyard—I don’t know if you’ve—you can get extremely sleepy along about 6 o'clock in the morning. The fact is you feel like you'd like to lay down and die. And so then you do things to stimulate your mind and keep you alert. Well, one morning I was sitting there at the control board and I thought, oh boy, I'm tired. And then they didn't allow coffee pots in the control room, so if somebody was going to go out, they'd get some coffee and they brought it back in from the lunch room. And I got my mind going. I thought, gee, you have a coffee pot and it percs. How long would that tube have to be before it wouldn't perc anymore? And we had a good time talking about it, laughing about it, and it kept me awake. And so then about 7:30, here comes in your day shift. And of course they had an engineer assigned to the area. He came in to check how everything was going. I said, "Hey, I've got a question for you. How long could that tube be and still perc?" And we kind of laughed and talked a bit. Well then I didn't see him again. We changed shift and went on change and it probably wasn't until I came back in a month, and by that time he was gone. Well, here he comes back with a three-page document based on you've got to know the quality of the coffee. What brand is the coffee? What is the pH of the water? And like an engineer. But we all looked at him. And we still got a big laugh. I still have that write-up at home that he gave me. But anyway it's things like that we went through.
Bauman: And how long did you work as an operator?
McCullough: I worked at C reactor for--can I look at notes?
Bauman: Oh, sure, yeah.
McCullough: So I was at C reactor from January 1955 to December 1960, so about five years. Then I went on a supplemental crew, and then I went back to C reactor for a while. But then in 1960, they offered me a promotion to be a reactor specialist at the 100 B reactor—that was the initial one. So I went to B reactor and worked as a reactor specialist. That means I had the full responsibility of the control room. Your operating crew consists of a supervisor--by that time what they used to call the chief operator they were now chief reactor specialist. They have your supervisor and reactor specialist, which are both monthly paid supervisory jobs. And then they had five operators, which consists of the operating crew. I forget where I was going now. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Yeah, well, you’re talking about being a reactor specialist at B reactor, and your responsibility there.
McCullough: So I just stayed in that position at B reactor from 1960 to 1964. And in 1964 they started shutting reactors down, or before the time. And I watched them go down and go down and I thought, you know, I better get out of here, because I'm going to lose my job. By that time I had six children. I thought, no, I can't afford to be laid off. So I know well I'm going to drop back into the bargaining unit and pick up my seniority so they have a lot more people to lay off before you get to me. And so I stayed back there as an operator for a year or so. And everything quieted down, I thought maybe I'll just go ahead and they offered me, they said, hey Bill, would you like to come back to the reactor specialist again? I said, oh, I'd love to. About a month after that, they announced they were going to shut down the D reactor, and I thought, well, I guess I'll get laid off here. So I started looking for another job. There was something else I was going to say and I got sidetracked.
Bauman: Let me ask you about when you moved to B reactor from C reactor, you became a reactor specialist which meant, as you said, more supervision and responsibility, was there a significant difference between the two reactors themselves?
McCullough: A big difference.
Bauman: Could you explain?
McCullough: B reactor had nine control rods; C reactor had 15, which meant that we had that much better control. The old reactors, there's a big gap between the top bank of rods and the top of the reactor, the active zone, and also the bottom row. As a result, by that time, they had developed these spines and we could put in temporary poison spines and pull them back out again to supplement the control rods. B reactor you had to do a lot more front face work, because that Xenon poisoning built up here and this area will die off and you shift down here and know this rate cycle, and a lot of times you had a lot of front face work to be doing. C reactor you had this other bank of rods, which made a big difference. So the C reactor's a lot easier reactor to operate.
Bauman: Were there ever any, during your years working at either of those reactors, any things happen, any emergencies or critical issues in the reactor?
McCullough: Was there what now?
Bauman: Were there ever any emergencies or critical issues at any time at either reactor?
McCullough: Not really. We had lots of problems in that during the charge/discharge quite often the hot fuel elements were dropped down amongst--instead of dropping in the basin they'd fall in the back pig tails and get so you couldn't go in the rear face at all. Then you had to figure out how to get them out amongst the tubes. You had to bring in fire hoses and everything else, and yet you couldn't stick your head around. You had to do it all by mirrors to get them out. But in general, not major problems. I might point out, I guess it's when I was at C reactor, they decided they was going to build a nuclear ship, NS Savannah. And so they brought the captain, or there was two of them came in, to the C reactor. Now not too many people know this, because it's dropped off in history, but they came in and trained and learned how to use nuclear material at the C reactor and after they left, they sent a ship. They presented a nice big model of the NS Savannah, which C reactor kept in a control room as a memorial to the fact that we did do this work towards turning atoms into plowshares. That was something we were always real proud of.
Bauman: So you talked about shifts starting to take place, the beginning of the shutting down of reactors and less production at some point. How did that impact your work? Did you shift to other kinds of jobs there?
McCullough: Do you mean out there?
Bauman: Yeah.
McCullough: Not in the reactor, of course. If the reactor goes down, that takes everything down. So if you wanted to--Yeah, so if the reactor goes down, it's just your jobs are lost. Let me see if there's anything else.
Bauman: Did you work at N reactor for a little while?
McCullough: Actually what happened is that, following my progression, I finally decided I had to leave. I started looking for jobs, and I heard that they were going to build a brand-new reactor, the FFTF, the Fast Flux Test Facility. So I thought maybe I can get on that. So I put an application down there and I got in contact that said they wanted an interview. So I went on and interviewed with Pat Cavil. He says, we are going to monitor the engineering and help them to you build this new reactor. And so I took that job. I didn't know anything about engineering—about planning and scheduling, but they said, we'll train you. So I went down there with three other men, and he gave us an extensive class on planning and scheduling. And we'd go on and contact the engineer and say, okay, what job is it that you need to do? And what needs to be done before you can do that? Which actually made a critical path. And then we'd monitor their progress to see how—if it’s going to show up in time, to help them out. So we did all the planning and scheduling for the engineers and the planners. And it’s enjoyable work. Didn't have much in the way of computers them days. If we had to get information, we'd use a mainframe. They had a great big, big, big computer in the Federal Building, and we'd use that and take it down there and they'd put all the information into the computer and it draws a great big chart and we looked at it and showed people where they're at and what's going to have to be done in what order. It's fun. I did that for several years down there. There again, like everything else, things didn't look too good. [LAUGHTER] It's funny on the FFTF they said we ought to make that into a power producer. That way you can go ahead and do your experimental stuff and get some electricity out of it. And the engineers and no. No, no. This is our toy. You're not going to dictate to us when we shut down and when you're going to operate it. We want to do it without any outside influence. And here when they shut the thing down--the FFTF down finally, if they would have just listened and hooked that up to produce electricity, it would still be going. That was a 400-megawatt plant. And it would still be going now if they didn't have the idea that we're not going to be dictated by a bunch of power producers. We're going to run it the way we want to. Well, they did. They shut it down.
Bauman: I wonder, taking you back to the 300 Area, B Reactor and C Reactor, what was the most challenging part of your work at Hanford? And maybe what was the most rewarding part of the work you did at Hanford?
McCullough: The most rewarding and challenging is when I was made a reactor specialist. It was real rewarding to go in there and find out you have a bunch of heat up here and cold down here and figure just do this, this and this and maybe I can get it all on your control recorders that are right next to your operator. We would select tubes representative of the area. So we would select a tube up here, a tube over here, a tube here, a tube here and on down to monitor. And then we'd try and bring the temperatures closer together so that the reactor is more balanced. Of course the more balanced you get then you're further away from the limit, so then you raise your power level. So that was a real challenge to go in there and see what a mess the previous shift had left you and then go in there because the heat is always--the heat, which is also in reactivity, is always shifting in the reactor. So it was fun to go in and see just how flat you can get it. I thoroughly enjoyed the job. It was is nice. It was a good job, a very rewarding job. That's probably the most rewarding job I had.
Bauman: You mentioned earlier that the incident happened when you were working at 300 Area of the worker who was—the pile exploded. Were there ever any other incidents--and it doesn't have to be a safety incident--but things that sort of stand out your mind that in your memory is really unique things that happened during your time working at Hanford? Any special events or happenings that really stand out in your mind from your time working there?
McCullough: No, off hand I can't think of anything. Could I have a drink of water?
Bauman: Oh, yeah. There's water right there.
McCullough: Let me look at my notes here and see if I’m missing.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
McCullough: Okay, one thing about the reactor specialist is that I had essentially control of the reactor, but I didn't have any manpower problems. The supervisor, he had personnel problems and everything else, but as a reactor specialist, if the people were bellyaching, I'd say, go see the boss. [LAUGHTER] It was very good. Also, backtracking, the bus system out there was phenomenal. If you lived in Richland, the bus system, the buses—you wouldn't never walk more than a block and you'd be picked up to go to work. And you'd get on the bus and do your thing. What was interesting, some people, they would play cards. They would get the four seats and put their leg through the seat so they're all facing, and they'd play bridge or play pinochle. For many years before I got there they were playing poker. In fact, reading I find out that a lot of people they did such a good job on poker, they'd just ride the buses back and forth. [LAUGHTER] But the buses were just absolutely fantastic, and people were reading, sleeping, what have you, but good bus system.
Bauman: And that's how everyone got to work, pretty much, is that correct? The buses?
McCullough: Yes.
Bauman: How would you describe the community of Richland, during the 1950s especially?
McCullough: Oh, by the way, just one back to the reactors. To give you a feel for the advancements we made in the reactors in operating. I can't talk pell-mell with a guess, but the design rating of B Reactor--by the time I got out of there, it hasn't quite doubled the design of it. Well, by the time I go out there until I left, they, by a factor of eight to ten power level. They just cranked that pile up just because of a better knowledge, better fuel. And it's amazing that you do take a Model T and you go ahead and you can drive down the highway at 10 or 15 miles an hour and say, boy, look how fast I'm going. And all of a sudden you're, going 150 miles an hour, that's about what they out there with the reactors is take these old Model T's and kept improving them, and improving them, getting the water to flow into them. And it just is amazing how much power we got out of there. In fact, we got it at such a high power level they said, okay, let's cut back to try and preserve the reactors so they could operate longer. So we actually took a mandatory cutback. We really did a good, good, good job or reducing plutonium. Of course, by the time I was out of there, I got thinking sooner or later they're going to say, hey, we have enough plutonium—we have enough plutonium to destroy the entire world. Someday they're going to start shutting the reactors down, and sure enough they did. That's kind of it.
Bauman: Overall, how would you assess your years working at Hanford? How was it as place to work?
McCullough: I found it a fantastic place. In fact, working at Hanford, working in that community, you figure that—We ended up having six children. My wife never had to work out of the home. I made enough money out there--there was a lot of overtime--but we had both agreed that we would not use overtime to live off of. It would be stuff that we wouldn't normally buy like a boat, or a trailer, a camper, a new truck. Hanford itself has been good to me. And the area is fantastic. You couldn't ask for anything better than that.
Bauman: Well, I thank you very much for coming today and sharing your experiences working at Hanford. I appreciate it.
McCullough: Well, I sure appreciate being able to get in here and talk with you. Because it's exciting, too. I'd like people to know what went on out there and how safety was a primary concern out there. Everything we did it had to take your safety always, always came first. It has been good place. As I said, I raised six children, and they love this place so good that they all live locally, except one. Her husband thought maybe he had job advancement, so he moved to Tennessee about three or four years ago. Up until that time we have the whole family living here. Pretty nice.
Bauman: Yeah. All right, well, thank you again, appreciate it.
McCullough: Thank you.
Northwest Public Television | Kaas_Gordon
Robert Bauman: So just for official purposes, my name is Robert Bauman and I'm conducting an oral history interview with Mr. Gordon Kaas. Is it Kaas?
Gordon Kaas: Yes.
Bauman: Okay. On June 12, 2013. And the interviews are being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And I'll be talking with Mr. Kaas about his family's history and memories about their experiences in Richland growing up in that community. So maybe, Mr. Kaas, you can tell me, first of all, a little bit about your family and maybe how your family came to the Richland area.
Kaas: Well my father was an immigrant from Denmark and he came here right after the turn of century. Lived in Madras, Oregon for a while and his brother was up here in Richland. He come up here and he was a farmer. He bought some ground here in what's North Richland and planted the majority of the acreage to apples. His brother took care of the orchard for about the first three years while he lived in Madras, Oregon. That's where he met my mother and they were married. And they moved up here I think it was 1915, after the orchard began to bear. My oldest brother was born in Madras, and then I've got two older brothers, Nelson and George, that were born here, plus my only sister, and then myself and my twin brother. The three older brothers are deceased now but my sister and my twin brother are still living.
Bauman: And do they live in the area here?
Kaas: My sister lives in Kennewick. That's Alice Chapman, her husband James, live in Kennewick. And my twin brother and I married sisters, but they live in Kenai, Alaska. And he was a plumber. When I got out of high school, we had moved to Kennewick in 1943, because the government said to pack your belongings and go, you've got 30 days. However, we lived far enough north that they gave permission for those that lived up on from here, there's a little rise in the contour, that area they let farm their crop that year. So instead of moving in February or March, we didn't move until November of 1943. That's where the remaining five of the six children were born.
Bauman: So you'd mentioned your father came from Denmark.
Kaas: Yes.
Bauman: I wonder if you could talk a little bit about what you know about why he came to the United States, and maybe the same for your mother.
Kaas: Well, my mother was an immigrant also, emigrated from Prince Edward Island, Canada. And I had the pleasure of visiting back there this past summer. First time I'd ever been there. My father came over because of the opportunities that were in the US, and there was a lot of people moving to the New World. His background was farming. I think I mentioned he was the youngest of 12 children, and two brothers and a sister had immigrated over here ahead of him. So he had a little forewarning of what was here. And at that time, this area here in Hanford and White Bluffs was a fairly new irrigation area and was attracting people from around the country, and around the world, I guess you could say. Because there was other Danes and Norwegians and Swedes here. When I was small, when I grew up, we had an apple orchard. But during the Depression in the ‘30s, apples was one thing that people didn't have to have and consequently, the market went away. And at that time, peppermint was coming in and he hired a county bulldozer to come in and bulldoze the trees out and planted peppermint. And raised peppermint, as long as we was on the farm. I should clarify that in 1949 I lost my father, and I and my twin brother were between our sophomore and junior year in high school, so we became the farmers. And that was after we had moved from Richland to Kennewick. We had a 40 acre farm here in Richland and the war took my three oldest brothers. My father had the option of keeping one of them at home to help on the farm, but he wouldn't do that. My sister, and my twin brother and myself became farmers fairly quick. And then we moved to Kennewick in 1943, and in 1948 he had come down with cancer. And in '49, he passed away in the middle of August of '49. By that time my twin brother and I was the only ones still in school and we became students and farmers both. And then after we graduated from high school, my mother leased the place out. And I ended up taking a job out in Hanford. I worked out there for 21 years, but never got the thought of the farm out of my head. In 1972 my wife and I and we had two children at that time, a son and a daughter. And we bought a farm six miles north of Pasco. And that's been our home ever since.
Bauman: So you returned to your farming roots?
Kaas: Yes.
Bauman: Yeah. What about your mother? You said your father passed away, unfortunately, in 1949. How about your mother?
Kaas: My mother lived for some years later. I think she died in-- I can't remember the date on it like I can my father—but in the mid '70s. I think it was '78 that she passed away. And at that time the farm was being sold for plots for houses, and now it's all houses.
Bauman: So how many so how many children were there in your family then? How many siblings did you have?
Kaas: There were six.
Bauman: Six, okay.
Kaas: I had three older brothers. Then my sister come along. And then to finish out the six was my twin brother and I.
Bauman: You and your twin brother. And you and your twin brother were born in hospital?
Kaas: We were the only ones that were born in the hospital. Because thought there might be some complications. So we were born in the Pasco Lady of Lourdes Hospital. The rest were all at home.
Bauman: And you talked about how the primary crop was apples for quite a while until at some point in the Depression you shifted to peppermint. Is that right?
Kaas: Yes.
Bauman: And were there other crops that you grew as well?
Kaas: Well, we had of course, alfalfa because we had a few livestock. We had asparagus. And that was up early and that was the asparagus fields. My three older brothers were in the service. Two of them in the Army and one in the Navy. We'd get up early and go cut asparagus. And when we were left on our farm through the summer we'd see everything booming out here, trucks going by. We lived right on George Washington Way. And we'd be out in the field and watching the trucks headed north where the construction was going on. And we had strawberries. We had a few potatoes. Then, of course, peppermint. And all that ground was real irrigated.
Bauman: How was that irrigated?
Kaas: Real irrigated where you had corrugates that the water ran down. And so I was changing water twice a day. And my father worked from daybreak to dawn. But as time went on, we were more help. After the military took my three brothers my dad bought a tractor. And he didn't like the tractor. He liked the horses. So my twin brother and I, we got a lot of practice on the tractor. He put us out on the field and get us started and he'd go do some other chores. We, my twin brother and I, we continued to farm the Kennewick farm. Which, was downsized. It was only 20 acres. At that time though, you could make a living on a farm that size. But I lost my oldest brother in the war. And the next oldest one was in the Army and over in Germany. And the third from the top was in the Navy and over in the Pacific. And after the war was over they came home and took jobs out at Hanford, my remaining two brothers. And when I finished school I got a job out there. And my brother worked out there. My twin brother worked out there on construction. I was a power operator. And in 1972 I'd been wanting to get out on a farm and I said, I got to make the move before I'm 40 or I'm going to give it up. And we found a place to buy. And it's been good to us. My main crop, it started off being alfalfa and wheat and sweet corn. But after a couple years I got into raising potatoes. And that ended up being our main crop until I quit farming.
Bauman: Got it. Let me just go back and ask you another question, too, about your family farm that you grew up on. So were there other buildings besides the houses? The barn? Any other buildings? And you said it was 40 acres. Is that correct?
Kaas: 40.
Bauman: Okay.
Kaas: Yeah.
Bauman: And so I wonder how large the house was? Were there any other buildings as well that were part of the farm?
Kaas: Well, back then it didn't take as much a house as it does today. When my folks moved up here from Madras, Oregon--and I can't tell you--I think it was around 1917 or 1918. They had the ground but there was no buildings on it. But there was a small house. I think it was about a two-room house that my dad's brother and him moved from what would be over on--is that--what street is that? Over to the west? Anyway, they moved it from there to onto Georgia Washington Way where we lived. And then he added onto that. And then just before the government came in, we had enlarged the house and the next year was another project to finish it. But it started off being a two bedroom. And small ones at that.
Bauman: Now, it was originally, was there an outhouse? What did you have?
Kaas: We didn't have neither electricity or running water in the house until--it was about 1940.
Bauman: So not too long before the war.
Kaas: Yeah. And that was a big improvement. My mother didn't have to pack water for the washing machine or carry it out. But we didn't have any electricity. So the washing machine had a little gas engine on it. And like most, Monday was wash day. And that'd be all she'd get done except cooking some meals.
Bauman: So was there a well?
Kaas: Yes, we had a well.
Bauman: Okay.
Kaas: That was before my time. But I remember that he had a nephew that came over from Denmark plus my uncle lived here and there was a hand-dug well. And that was on the property that is the Energy Northwest headquarters now.
Bauman: Oh, okay. And what about neighbors? Who were your closest neighbors? Were there other families that you socialized with?
Kaas: Well, yes. We had one neighbor that lived right across the road. And others close. I can say there was one, two, three--about five that lived in walking distance. You know, a 20-minute walk at the most. It was interesting. In the early spring of 1943 there was a number of cars that had come into town. And they were driving different places. It was late enough that some farmers were out in the field. The next day they were all in town at the schoolhouse. And they called to me and said that the whole community, including White Bluffs in Hanford was being evicted for a government project. And that's all they would say. Nobody knew what was ready going on out there until after the bombs were dropped. And it was interesting when those people that were here driving in cars were appraisers. And they were going around and appraising the farms of how much to give the farmers for it. Some got very nervous. They thought if you didn't take the first, they might just haul you out in handcuffs or whatever. But they allowed if you didn't accept for the third appraisal. My father accepted the third appraisal. My grandmother, she got nervous. And they got her to sign. I think it was on the second appraisal. But my father, if you didn't sign and take the third appraisal, then they would take it to court. But they give you, I think it was 80% of the offer. And there were a few that took it to court. But my father thought the--But the surprising part about that is the farmers that took the money and couldn't find a farm, the price of the farmland was going up so fast that what would buy a farm when they got the money, a year later was probably only half enough. So those people put a hardship on them. But I can't say our situation put a hardship. Because we was able to find a farm and it was a good form.
Bauman: Do you have any idea how much your parents got for the farm?
Kaas: You know, I've been wondering that myself. But what I can tell you is that the 20 acre farm we got, it had a big house on it. It had a five-bedroom house plus porch, front and back. It was $7,200. And I'm sure it was in that neighborhood, maybe a little more. Because it was 40 acres rather than 20. And it was the only house still standing in North Richland until it too was torn down oh, 15, 20 years ago.
Bauman: Oh, it stood for that long?
Kaas: Yes, because the criteria was that if it had indoor plumbing and electricity they would save it if they could and somebody would move into it. And a patrolman that was hired by the--well, I guess it was GE back then. Or no, it was DuPont.
Bauman: DuPont? Mm-hm.
Kaas: He wanted that house. And he got the okay on it. But he would come by about every three or four days and see what the progress was of us moving out. He was anxious to move in. There was a shortage of homes. And it was used for living for a few years and then it was right in the middle of that big trailer camp that was out here. And it was turned into the office for the trailer camp.
Bauman: So he moved in shortly after your grandma left then?
Kaas: Yes. When he could see the date that we was going to be out, he had his stuff packed and ready to move.
Bauman: And so how old are you at this time? About 9 or 10 years old? Somewhere in there?
Kaas: I was 12 years old when we moved.
Bauman: Okay.
Kaas: So we moved and we were still moving in November. Because that's when my birthday is. And I remember the time we took the tractor with a big trailer we had behind it with some of the last things. And my dad let me drive it after we got off the highway. I was 12 years old. And our farm, in Kennewick, the address was 3904 West Fourth Avenue now.
Bauman: So what did you think about this at the time as a young boy? You had spent your whole life, at that point, on this farm. And you're suddenly having to move. What did you think? And do you know what your parents thought? Did you talk to them?
Kaas: Well, we spent a lot of time driving around to find a farm. We looked up a lot up Prosser Way. I can remember sitting out in the yard there for a couple of hours, my mother and dad talking. And there was a nice big house, older house. It was a little smaller farmer than we had gotten. They finally decided they would take it. And my dad went to the door and said, we've talked it over and we'd like to buy your farm. And they said, well, we're sorry. My husband's down at the court house signing papers on it now. So we were back to looking again. But you can imagine a 12-year-old. We thought this was kind of a thrill, driving around looking at farms and discussing it and where we was going to live. And I can remember several farms we looked at that some of them had a nice house. But the property wasn't the best. The soil wasn't the best. But we was happy when we settled on this one in Kennewick.
Bauman: So for you, maybe the fact that you ended up with a nice farm in Kennewick--
Kaas: Yes, it was a nice farm. Kennewick is a little bit rocky. But it's bearable. The farm we had out here in Richland was a lot more sandy. But heavier soil, you can raise better crops. But sandy soil is easier to farm.
Bauman: So I want to go back to also talking about your early years here. Where did you go to school? And what was the school like? And how many? How big was the school? That sort of thing?
Kaas: The school I went to was built in--which was Lewis and Clark school down in south Richland. And the year I started there it was brand new. Because of the Depression there was money for stuff like that, to generate employment. And Hanford got a new school. And Richland got a new school. And that's where I started the first grade, my twin brother and I. My sister was four years ahead of us. So she was in an old school that they immediately tore down after the new school was built. But my dad was a well thought of man here in this area. And when the irrigation district was in, neighbors twisted his arm till he agreed to go on the board for irrigation. Same for the school district. He was on the board, directors there. In fact, he was the president of the board and signed a couple of my brothers' diplomas. And after we moved, well, some would know Jay Perry, who was a county commissioner in Kennewick. And he came and wanted my dad to run for his place. They talked quite a while. And my dad said, well, Jay, that would never work, because you're a Democrat and I'm a Republican.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Kaas: He said, I'd do anything to get you in. Whether you're a Republican or not. So that's the only way I knew of what his preference of party. But there was, for farmers back then, there was more done for the farmers than a lot of people.
Bauman: So do you know how big the school was? Do you know how many students there were about?
Kaas: Well, it was an eight-room school, first through the eighth grade. And I would say, there was probably on the average of at least 20 in each class. Then when things got a little tougher, first, well, second grade and half of third was in one room. And the other half of third and the fourth grade was in another room. So they were small enough then that they could do that. But that school was tore down for the replacements that there are now. But it was a nice all-brick school that for old time's sake, I hated to see it go. But both of my children started in that school.
Bauman: Oh, did they really?
Kaas: For first grade. Because we lived in the south end of Richland at that time. And our--what is the--the Justice over in Pasco, he went to that school. My son went with him. Cameron Mitchell.
Bauman: Oh, Cameron Mitchell, sure. So what sorts of things did you do for recreational activities growing up on your farm?
Kaas: Oh, main thing for recreational was work. But we did have time. And when we were little my dad didn't require us to--We never were slave labor by any stretch. But we'd roller skate out on the road. There wasn't very many cars. And we'd play hide and seek and one thing my dad let us do is a couple horse to an old sled that we had that was about four by six, to a horse. And take our dog and we'd go out hunting jackrabbits. Didn't have a gun. But that dog could catch the jackrabbits. And we'd probably get five or six every time we went out. They'd be just wandering out through the sagebrush. We was out at the edge of the farming community here in Richland. So there's plenty of sagebrush ground. And we thought that was great, to go out with the dog. My twin brother and I, and my three cousins from over on the coast would come here. I got a picture of it. Looking at it yesterday, that all five of us on that sled, out jackrabbit hunting. But just things like that. What kids do.
Bauman: Sure.
Kaas: Bicycles.
Bauman: Oh. Yeah. So you were on a farm. Did you go into town much? Into the town of Richland?
Kaas: Well, it was a five-mile drive on the school bus. Back then we didn't have these factory-made school buses. Generally a farmer would say, I'd like to build a bus and hire it to haul the students. Well, there was an aisle down the center that you sat back to back to and then down each side. And it was just made out of an old truck. And we didn't know what heaters were. Wintertime got pretty cold. But--
[PHONE RINGS]
Bauman: No cellphones then, either. [LAUGHTER]
Kaas: Huh?
Bauman: No cellphones then either.
Kaas: I meant to take it out. But I forgot it.
Bauman: That's all right.
Kaas: I think I was in about the third grade when we got factory manufactured school buses. And they looked as long as a train. And there was three of them. And that picked up students all over the Richland area. And then it wasn't too long after that the government came in and the area just exploded. And it was surprising when you had to, how fast they could put buildings up. They had people in here. They added onto the school and built more schools. But after '43 I wasn't here much.
Bauman: Did you start going to school in Kennewick then at that point?
Kaas: Yes. I think I was in the fifth grade when we moved to Kennewick.
Bauman: I was wondering about sort of community activities. Do you have any memories of community picnics or 4th of July celebrations? Anything along those lines?
Kaas: Well, yes. In that time, the boat races--that would be equivalent to what we have now here in the Tri-Cities—was up at White Bluffs. And I remember, several times being young, going up there and watch the boat races. And then there was community picnics. I remember looking at some books at the county fair, before they registered at the picnics, they had them. Found a couple where my folks, my dad registered as being at the picnic, 4th of July picnic, I think they were. Then there was plenty of family gatherings. Maybe two, three, four families would get together and go to the park. But I don't know, it never seemed like we lacked activity.
Bauman: What about churches? Were churches close by? Did your family go to church regularly? And where were they?
Bauman: What, church, you say?
Kaas: Yeah, churches.
Kaas: Well, my folks heard the Gospel by two homeless ministers in 1921. And the church met in a home. And I'm still in that faith today. We don't have church buildings. So there was churches in town. But they accepted that way and the family grew up in it.
Bauman: Okay. So you mentioned earlier, talking about the Depression, and how your father then sort of changed crops, right? Primary crops. Did you know of any families in the area that maybe lost their farms? Or did you see any other impact of the Depression for other families or for the town itself?
Kaas: Well, my uncle lost his--that lived, oh, half mile or less from us. And I remember my dad saying he wanted him to financially help him. He was a bachelor. He had never married until he was 82, I think. And then he married his sweetheart that he had when he was young.
Bauman: Wow.
Kaas: And neither one of them, they were married. They got back together in old age.
Bauman: That's quite a story. Wow.
Kaas: But anyway, my dad had to decline him because he said, Jim, I've got a family. And if I did that I would probably lose my farm too. And you're single. Realized I hate to say no. But I just don't have it where I can feel that I could do it. And there were others the same way. But you have to remember that I was-- that was not something I can physically remember. I was too early in the '30s. I was born in '32. I remember him talking about ones that sold out or it didn't have any equity and couldn't make payments. But my father was very frugal. He didn't buy what he couldn't afford, which was very little, that he bought. But yes, when my father decided to push out the orchard, we had a big enough orchard. In fact, it was the largest apple orchard in the Tri-Cities. I can't tell you how many acres it was. But it was 15 acres or so.
Bauman: Do you know what kind of apples?
Kaas: At that time, Red Delicious. But he made the decision to take the apples out, because every year he'd be losing a little more money. And plant peppermint. Well, 100 pounds to the acre of peppermint oil was considered excellent. And I never remember him getting less than 100 pounds. And I remembered selling for $7 a pound. And today the price of oil isn't that much better. It's just that the farmers' farms are a lot bigger.
Bauman: Mm-hm.
Kaas: I think, from what I've heard, I know some people that are farming peppermint and $9 or $10 I think would be an excellent price now.
Bauman: So what happened with your uncle then? He lost his farm you said? What did he do at that point?
Kaas: My uncle?
Bauman: Mm-hm.
Kaas: He moved to Oregon. And lived in Troutdale for quite a while. I think he just hired out. He was a stonemason, brick mason. And I think he made a living at that.
Bauman: I want to ask you a little bit about, you talked about the war a little bit and that your older brothers all joined and went to serve. Do you remember hearing about the war? And have any memories about that at all?
Kaas: Yeah, when the war come on, some time during that we got a radio. And I know my dad listened to the news every evening. My oldest brother, Edward, that was born in Oregon and was the only one that wasn't born here, was drafted into the Army. And he took his training down in one of the southern states. I can't remember for sure now if it was Texas, or--. Anyway, they ended up sending him to a little place by Washington, D.C. that they call Vint Hill Farms. And it was a training, a special training area. And he worked there as, we'd probably called it a cadre that helps do training. But there everything was coal fired. So in the wintertime they had to keep the furnace going and the hot water heater going and snow removal or whatever. And he never did go overseas. But he was on a laundry run. And he was riding in the back of a deuce and a half army truck. And a Lincoln hit the truck head on. And he was thrown up against the cab and killed. So he wasn't-- he didn't see overseas action. But I remember that was a sad day for the family.
Bauman: I imagine. You mentioned having the radio. Did your family get that before the war or at some point during the war, you remember?
Kaas: It was during the war. I don't remember. We didn't have a radio while we were still in Richland.
Bauman: Oh, okay. You got it after you have moved to Kennewick at some point.
Kaas: Yeah.
Bauman: Okay. So how did you get news when you were in Richland? Was there a local newspaper?
Kaas: Yeah, there was a newspaper. And don't ask me if it was daily or weekly or semi-weekly. But well, I guess, in the old days, we took the Spokesman Review. I don’t think--there wasn't a local newspaper. There might've been a weekly. But you're getting too far back in my brain.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Yeah, do you know how your family found out about the war, that United States was going to war? Was it through the newspaper? Or sort of word of mouth?
Kaas: Well, I think all the above. You know, neighbors were close and we did get the Spokesman Review. And I don't know if it was a day late. I think it came down on the train. So it could be the same day. At that time Pasco, its main industry was the train. A train town. And Richland was just a little farming community along with White Bluffs and Hanford.
Bauman: Right. And then was it in the spring of '43 that you first heard about that the government was coming in and was going to be taking people--
Kaas: Yes, yes. 1943.
Bauman: But your family, you have sort of the rest of that growing season. Is that right?
Kaas: Well, it must've been later in February or maybe first part of March that that happened. I suppose there's some way I could find out. But I do know that the ones that lived in what we call downtown Richland didn't get to stay and farm their crop. And we did.
Bauman: Yeah. I wonder if there's anything that we haven't talked about yet that you think would be important to talk about, something you know, about growing up in Richland, about the community itself, about farming?
Kaas: Well, we had a great swimming pool, Columbia River. Also fishing. Never had a fancy fishing pole. But go down to the river and cut off a large willow, tie the line on the end of it. Works good.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] What sort of fish did you catch with that?
Kaas: Probably mostly carp. Occasionally we'd get an edible fish.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Kaas: But we enjoyed doing it. Some real hot days, the whole family would go to the river. Our firewood, you could put on what they call a boom out on the river. It'd be several logs fastened together with chain or cable. And have an anchor out on the upper end. So it would catch all the wood that was coming down. And that's where we got the firewood. And for the icebox, we'd go down and my dad would saw chunks of ice out of the river and we had a sawdust bin that we would bury the ice in there and it would last long ways into the summer. So things were a little bit crude back then. But none of us died from it. We all made it.
Bauman: Right. [LAUGHTER] What about in the winter? You know, in terms of the river, the river ever freeze over? What sorts of things did you do? Any things that you can say--
Kaas: All I can remember about that is that what I've been told. I think I was about two years old when it froze over. And they even drove cars across it. I don't think we had any bridges at that time. It was a ferry that would ferry cars across. And it seems like the winters don't get as cold as they used to here. I don't know if it's a cycle or what it is. But my younger years, we could ice skate on the river, most all winters.
Bauman: Mm-hm. So that was something you did in the winter then for fun?
Kaas: Well, I don't remember doing a whole lot. But you know, the river is dangerous, and we knew it back then, if the ice only goes out a small ways. So my folks wouldn't--I just know that my folks wouldn't have let us go to the river to ice skate if the ice wasn't thick enough.
Bauman: And you mentioned a ferry. Where was the ferry landing?
Kaas: Well, there was the ferry landing down at what's Columbia Point, I think, now. And there was another one between Kennewick and Pasco. There was another one up at Hanford, one across. It would come and go as the need was. But I remember the first bridge across the Columbia was long enough ago that I can't really remember it.
Bauman: Okay. I want to ask you a little bit about your employment at Hanford. When did you start working at Hanford? And how long did you work there? And what sort of work did you do there?
Kaas: Well, I graduated high school in 1951. And of course, we were still farming the ground. I did take a job in wheat harvest. And my brother stayed and did the chores that had to be done through the summer. And so my mother paid him what I made, the same amount that I made. So it was like both of us having a job. After wheat harvest was over in September of 1952--I think it was, yeah, 1952--I want out and applied for work at Hanford. And I got a job in the power department, running the steam boilers and turbines and that's out there. And I worked there for 14 years. It was all under GE then. I finished up in what was called the N Reactor. And that's when they built a steam power plant just across the fence from the N Reactor. And I applied for a job there with, at that time was the Washington Public Power. Now it's Energy Northwest. And I stayed there until '72 when I got the crazy idea of being a farmer again. And haven't really regretted it. You go from being carrying a dinner pail to being a businessman in one sense. It takes a lot of money to farm these days.
Man 1: Sorry, one last time. It looks like battery. [LAUGHTER]
Man 2: Oh.
Man 1: Pretty low.
Kaas: You can prompt me on anything you want to.
Bauman: What's that?
Kaas: You can prompt me.
Bauman: Oh, okay. I'm going to ask you just a little bit more about you working at Hanford. You mentioned working for GE and at the N Reactor, and ask you where else at Hanford you worked?
Kaas: You asked me where I met my wife. I can give you a little more on that.
Bauman: There you go. And then I may ask you about I know President Kennedy had the official ceremony, right, in '63.
Kaas: Yes.
Bauman: And I'll ask you if you were there.
Kaas: I was still working for GE. And it was Thursday morning. I had to work a swing shift that day. So I just stayed out there.
Bauman: So you mentioned working for GE for a number of years. And then you said you ended up with you working at the N Reactor. I wonder before that, what other parts of the Hanford site you worked at?
Kaas: Well, I started at the C Reactor in the power department. C. B and C were right together. Actually it was the B reactor. Then I got drafted in the army. And in December I went in the service to--they sent my back to Virginia for training. And when the training with over, took a troop ship to Korea. I spent two years in Korea. Part of the time I was first service. War was still on. And then after my two-year stay I came home and they put me back on out there. At that time I'd been communicating with my future wife. And my twin brother, he had a bad ear and they wouldn't accept him. Ironically we was going with sisters. But they weren't twins. And so they decided to get married. So they got a two-year head start on us when I came home. Well, my wife, Beverly, and I got married. And been married ever since.
Bauman: And how had the two of you met? When did you meet?
Kaas: We was in school together. And the same way with my brother and his wife.
Bauman: And so how many years is that now?
Kaas: Boy, you're--
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] I'm testing him.
Off camera speaker: It'll be 60 next year.
Kaas: That's--
Bauman: Wow, almost 60.
Kaas: It's getting awful close to 60.
Bauman: Yeah, wow. And so you mentioned you were in Korea for two years. And the war was still going on when you first arrived?
Kaas: Yes. Yes.
Bauman: And what sorts of--
Kaas: I went in and they put me in the medics. And I took my medic training down in Camp Pickett, Virginia. And then sent me to Korea. I was a medic.
Bauman: And then one other thing I wanted to ask you about, during your time working at Hanford, President Kennedy was here in, I believe it was September of '63. August or September of '63 to dedicate the N reactor.
Kaas: Yes.
Bauman: I was wondering if you were there at that time and if you have memories of that?
Kaas: I was. I was there. And witnessed his groundbreaking. He flew in in a helicopter and flew out in a helicopter. I think probably went up to Moses Lake, where they parked the plane. And it was interesting that I happened to be on the swing shift at that time. So when the ceremony was over I had to go over to the plant and start my shift.
Bauman: Was there extra security that day? Or do you have any memories of a lot of people there?
Kaas: Very much so. You know, that was just not long before he was assassinated. And there was a lot of security. There was three helicopters came in. And the doors opened on all three of them. They come to land, you didn't know which one he was on. But the first thing you seen was they pulled a machine gun up in the doorway. And they looked all directions before they left anybody off. And there was a big crowd there. That was very interesting.
Bauman: Mm-hm. Were there any other events during your time when you worked at the Hanford site that sort of stand out? Any significant happenings or anything that sort of stands out in your memory?
Kaas: They formed a rescue crew out there. They outfitted an older bus. And I think there was about three or four different crews, maybe five. We never did get called to an event, like there's been several around the United States since. But that's what we were trained for. And I was on one of those crews because I'd been a medic in the army, was the reason they put me on there. We had drills. But never had to go to an actual event.
Bauman: And obviously Hanford was a place where security was very important. Did you do have to have a special clearance to work there? Or what do you remember about some security processes?
Kaas: Well, yes. I had what they called a Q clearance, which was top clearance, with everybody that was full time employed. That the only ones that would get out there was if they had to have a special person, something broke down and had to go out there. And then he had to have an escort. And they told us that you don't talk about what work it is on the job. But at that time, Hanford wasn't classified top secret anymore. After the bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, that's when they found out what Hanford was building.
Bauman: Were you able to drive your own car out to the site where you were working? Or would you have to take a bus?
Kaas: Oh, we had to take an expensive bus ride.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER]
Kaas: They charged us a nickel each way. And nobody could afford to drive their cars. If you did, you car pooled. But because the buses didn't have any air conditioning, just the windows. But as long as I worked for GE I rode the bus. When I started working for Washington Public Power we car pooled. They didn't have an option. But they paid us for travel time.
Bauman: And how long did you work for Washington Public Power then?
Kaas: Seven years.
Bauman: Seven years. '65 to '72? So anything else that I haven't asked you about, either about growing up on the farm here in Richland or about your work at Hanford that you'd like to talk about or you think is important that we haven't talked about yet?
Kaas: Something serious?
Bauman: Oh, either way. No, it can be funny.
Kaas: Well, I remember when my twin brother and I was out and we had a watermelon patch. And we thought it was time to pick the watermelons. And we'd pick a whole pile of them. My dad said, well, those aren't ripe yet. We'll have to feed those to the pigs. So the pigs got watermelon early. But you know, we would--that's some of our pastime would be walk around the neighbors and such. There wasn't too many dull moments. Especially, my mother used to say that when you have twins, well, one can't think of the other kin. So I guess you can take from that what you want.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Yeah. If you had to sort of sum up for someone who wouldn't know much about the area, what it was like growing up in the small community at the time, growing up on a farm at the time, what would you tell them?
Kaas: Well, that there wasn't many dull moments. I think there's an advantage that kids today don't have. We grew up having responsibility to know that there might be a little time for play. But they're also work to be done. I can remember going out in the fields of whole peppermint and my dad would take two rows where my brother and I, we'd take one apiece and pull the weeds out. And we'd fill up a gallon jug of water. Had a burlap sack wrapped around it and dipped it in water before we went out. And that would keep cool. That was our drinking water. Had to come in in time for chores. We milked as many as five head of cows. But at the time my dad got sick we only had two milk cows. And a couple of horses and several young stock. And then there was 4H and FFA. That was after we moved to Kennewick. I can't remember much more about Richland, only being 12 years old and there's probably more. But I'll think about it after our interview is over. I remember riding the bus was quite a treat. When we got the new buses in Richland it was, as I said, I think I was in about the third grade. It was quite a treat. And they said there was heaters in them. But we couldn't tell when winter come.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Didn't feel like it.
Kaas: They weren't very efficient.
Bauman: Well, thank you very much. This has been really interesting, very informative. I appreciate it. You’ve been great. Thanks very much.
Kaas: Have you interviewed others?
Northwest Public Television | Lewis_Doris
Robert Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And, yeah, I'm sure it will be.
Man One: Yeah, I am too.
Doris Lewis: Because I think I've forgotten more than I remember.
Man One: Me too.
Lewis: [LAUGHTER]
Miriam: So mom, I won't chime in unless you ask me to.
Lewis: Yeah.
Miriam: Okay?
Lewis: Okay.
Man One: Going here.
Bauman: Okay, we’re good to go?
Man One: Yeah.
Lewis: Well--
Bauman: All right.
Lewis: --see, you were born in--
Miriam: 1958.
Lewis: Yeah, October.
Miriam: Why don't we let them ask the questions?
Bauman: We'll go ahead and get started, yeah.
Lewis: Okay.
Bauman: So let's go ahead and get started. And first I'm going to just have say your name for us.
Lewis: Now?
Bauman: Yeah, go ahead.
Lewis: My name is Doris Lewis.
Bauman: And my name is Robert Bauman. And today is August 14, 2013. And we are conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So let's start by having you tell us about how and why you came to this area.
Lewis: Okay. I came to this--I got married in Seattle. I got engaged back in Minnesota and I came out west. And we were married in Seattle in--what was it?
Miriam: 1944.
Lewis: Yeah, 1944--December 5, 1944.
Miriam: So can I--Mom, but you came out here--you guys were waiting to get married for Dad to get kind of a good job.
Lewis: [LAUGHTER] Yeah.
Miriam: And so he got a job out here, right?
Lewis: Yes.
Miriam: When did he get the job out here?
Lewis: Well he got the job--let's see. We were married in--he got the job in '43.
Miriam: So you didn't even have your house when you moved out here. You came to Seattle, got married, and then moved into your house here?
Lewis: Yeah, we moved into a one-bedroom prefab, of which I have a picture.
Miriam: So you came out here because Dad got a job here. And that was what allowed you guys to get married. And that's when you moved here.
Lewis: Yeah. That's why I moved here, yes.
Bauman: And so what sort of job did your husband have?
Lewis: He was a photographer, a patrol photographer.
Bauman: And his name was?
Lewis: Walt--S. Walt--It's Sam Walter Lewis, but everybody knew him as Walt.
Bauman: And so he got a job working as a photographer at the Hanford site?
Lewis: Mm-hm. He was on patrol here, working on patrol. But he was a photographer.
Bauman: Oh okay, so working for the Hanford patrol? I see. Okay. What was Richland like when you came here in 1944?
Lewis: Well, Richland was still being built when I came here in 1944. And they put up prefabs to get housing up quickly. And since we were a couple, we got a one-bedroom prefab. It was on Sanford and Symons--a lot different today. And the sidewalks were that macadam. And asparagus was growing up on the sidewalks, as I remember, right across from our prefab. I have a picture here of myself sweeping off the porch--
Bauman: That's great.
Lewis: --of the prefab. You may have it.
Bauman: We'll film that later. Yeah, that's great.
Lewis: Mm-hm. So anyway, that was my first home here. And it was really darling. I bought yellow chintz with blue figures on it. And one of the women here helped me make drapes. People were very friendly. And she not only helped me, she just made the drapes. [LAUGHTER] And we used to get together and have parties. And we formed a community. It was a lot of fun.
Bauman: Mm-hm. And I'm guessing there must have been people coming here from all over the United States?
Lewis: All over, from every--the people I saw a lot of happened to be Southerners. And they were really warm and friendly.
Bauman: And you said your first house was--
Lewis: A one-bedroom prefab. And it was darling. It had a living room. And then it had a curtained off area for the kitchen and bathroom and bedroom. And it was adequate for a couple.
Bauman: And how long did you live there?
Lewis: You know, I don't remember. Not too long. So we moved into a two bedroom for a while. I've lived in every house in Richland. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So when you first came here, you talked about it being a very friendly place, very friendly community. Were there things to do, entertainment, places to shop, those sorts of things?
Lewis: Oh. They still had--big bands came here. And Hanford was still running. I went to their house, open house, where they served meals and stuff. They were still serving meals. And they served family style. The waiters came in with huge plates of food and put them on the tables, a lot of food. And they still hand entertainers come in. There were some big time bands. I don't remember now who they were, but they were notables. They were a lot of fun, too, because everybody was friendly. You danced with whoever asked you. And my husband was taking pictures. So I didn't get to--he didn't help me. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So it must have been quite a bit different than Minnesota, or Seattle.
Lewis: Oh, yeah, quite a difference, yeah.
Bauman: I've heard people talk about the heat and the dust and the winds, you know, the termination winds.
Lewis: And the place was dug up. So we'd have terrible sandstorms. And I would come home at night to my house and the couch--you know, these were prefabs. So they're not too well built. I come home to my house and my couch was covered with sand. You couldn't see the pattern on it. And then we had to sweep out. [LAUGHTER] We were young. And it didn't matter. We took everything in stride.
Bauman: Do you remember any community events or anything like that would go on in Richland at the time?
Lewis: I'm sure there were. I don't remember. I'm sure there were.
Bauman: Yeah. I understand that there was not a synagogue at the time that moved here and that you and your husband were involved in--
Lewis: Yeah, there were about 12 of us, eventually. And we got a group together. We held services every Friday night in our homes. And we formed a Jewish community. Yes. As I say, there were only 12 of us. I don't know when we built the--we built the synagogue when Jerry was--
Miriam: There was the 60th anniversary recently.
Lewis: Huh?
Miriam: Recently, there was the 60th anniversary.
Lewis: Yeah.
Bauman: So sometime in the 19--early '50s.
Miriam: Yeah.
Lewis: But we opened the synagogue when Jerry was about two or three, I think. A Seattle architect, a Jewish architect, drew up the plans--didn't charge us. And we had Meyer Elkins, who was--he supervised the building. He worked for AEC. And he was in charge of our synagogue building. We hired an architect from Seattle, and I cannot remember his name. But he was a very good architect. And our original synagogue has been enlarged to twice its size. There was an addition put on that was as big as the original building. Now I don't know when that was, either--I mean the date.
Bauman: Right.
Miriam: All right, can I ask a question? Mom, how did you guys raise the money to build it?
Lewis: How did we raise the money?
Miriam: And how many more--you were 12 originally, but how did the congregation grow?
Lewis: Well, it grew. There were 12 of us that built it, the synagogue. We pledged to pay over a period of years. And the bank loaned us the money. And now what did you just ask me?
Miriam: Just--there were 12 of you to start with, but when the synagogue was built, did people start hearing of it and start coming? Sorry, I'm--
Lewis: Yeah, well I don't know. I don't know when--it took a while to build it. And once they built it, then we had regular services every Friday evening and Saturday morning. And we celebrated holidays there. The synagogue was a central point for us. That's where we held all our activities. That's where we met. And that's how we really functioned.
Bauman: And you said there were 12 initially. Do you remember any of the other individuals who were involved early on?
Lewis: Any what?
Bauman: Any of the other people who were involved early on?
Lewis: Oh yeah, well most of them are dead now.
Bauman: Sure.
Lewis: There was Meyer and Tilly Elkins. And Meyer was a--he was a builder. He was an engineer. But he did building. And he supervised the building. And I'll tell you, it was perfect. [LAUGHTER] He was very, very concerned about every detail. We have a good, solid building. And if it weren't for these dedicated people, we wouldn't have had anything. Because we pledged the money for it, which at that time seemed like a lot of money. You couldn't do it today. And I don't remember the amount, but I think it was only about $16,000. I'm not sure of that.
Miriam: So mom, who were the rest of the 12 people?
Lewis: Now that's a good question.
Miriam: The Francos.
Lewis: The Francos.
Miriam: So that's Bob and Eileen Franco. The Kahns? Were the Kahns?
Lewis: Well yeah, Herb--
Miriam: Herb and Albert--
Lewis: --took charge of the financing, took charge of the banking.
Miriam: So that's six out of the 12. Who were the--oh, the Goldsmiths. Were the Goldsmiths?
Lewis: Yeah, I don't think they were early, no. I'm trying to remember. You know, I don't remember.
Miriam: That's something my brother could probably actually give you the information on.
Lewis: Well it might be in the book.
Miriam: No, this is Kennedy.
Lewis: Oh, yeah. Yeah, I don't know what Jerry remembers. But he was, I think, about two years old when they built it.
Miriam: But we can ask Jerry. Jerry can give them the information about the rest of the 12 people. Because I'm sure he will know.
Bauman: That's fine, yeah, sure.
Lewis: Okay.
Bauman: I was going to ask you then, obviously, your children were born here?
Lewis: Who?
Bauman: Your children were born here. Is that correct?
Miriam: Yeah.
Lewis: Oh, you--Miriam was born here and Jerry was born here.
Bauman: And how was Richland as a place to raise a family? How did you experience that?
Lewis: It was a wonderful place to raise a family. Because families were very important. And we got everything for free. They needed people here. And they did everything to keep us. Because it was a population that moved in and moved out. Many of them came, looked around, and left. They wouldn't stay. [LAUGHTER] But I think it was a very nice little community. We loved it here. We made friends, and we had activities. And we were busy. And then, of course, I had a job. I was a secretary. I worked first it was still under DuPont until I think '45 when GE came in.
Bauman: And what part of the Hanford site did you work at?
Lewis: Well I worked down--I was downtown then in the Ad Building. And I worked for--I can't remember what--Overbeck was one of the fellows. I was one of the top secretaries here at that time.
Bauman: And how long did you work?
Lewis: I worked a long time. [LAUGHTER] I quit working when my son was born. And that was in '55. And I quit for six or seven years. And then I came back to work again. And I worked part time for a while. But secretaries always had jobs. They needed secretaries. And I was an experienced one. They used to say if you knew a typewriter from a washing machine, they'd hire you. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And what did you think of working at Hanford? How was your experience or your experiences working there?
Lewis: What did I think of working there?
Bauman: Yeah, how was it?
Lewis: I liked it. It was interesting work. I didn’t know--I wasn't engineering knowledgeable. I didn't really know what they were doing. But it was a big secret. And in August 1945--I think that was when the first bomb was dropped. I remember working in the Ad Building there. And all the managers, everybody was on edge, waiting to hear the outcome of the dropped first bomb. Yes.
Bauman: Is that when you first knew what was going on, what had been happening at Hanford?
Lewis: Yeah, it was all very secret. And it didn't get out. Very few people knew what they were doing. Because very few people--it was a new art, or whatever you call it--a new technical thing. And they never knew, until it went off, if it was going to work. I worked for W. P. Overbeck. I worked for Vic Hansen from DuPont. He was one of the managers, a very good man. But he was only there for about six months after I hired in.
Bauman: So when you first came for your jobs at Hanford, what did you know about the place? Were you just told it had something to do with the war effort?
Lewis: We weren't told anything. I don't remember them--we knew we were working for the government and that it was very secretive. And that's all we knew. And I wasn't educated enough to know what we were doing. Now, some people may have surely knew. But as I say, engineering was something I didn't know anything about. But I learned some things. And I helped the wheels go around.
Bauman: Yeah, did you have to get a special clearance to be able to work at Hanford?
Lewis: Yeah, I had--we wore security badges. And before I quit, I got a top security clearance, because I'd been here a long time. And I worked for some of the top fellows. G. G. Lale--I can't remember what he was, but he was assistant to the man that was in charge. I think W. E. Johnson was in charge then. I'm not sure. Things are jumbled together for me. Because I'm so old I can't remember too accurately either.
Bauman: You're doing great. [LAUGHTER] You're remembering a lot.
Lewis: [LAUGHTER] I don't know.
Bauman: So your husband working for the Hanford patrol as a photographer. How long did he work at Hanford?
Lewis: He worked here a long time. And then he finally quit and went to Oregon--Gresham, right outside of Portland, and established his own business. That was a dream of his all his life. He wanted to have a studio, photographic studio, so he bought one. But however, he didn't look closely enough at it. And he spent a year trying to build a business. But he never could accomplish one that would keep us. And I was supposed to join him in about three months, quit my job and join him. But in three months’ time we knew that he needed my financial help. So I stayed on. And we visited back and forth. And he finally quit and came down here. And he got a job here as a photographer.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about President Kennedy's visit in 1963.
Lewis: Yeah, that was--we went out. It was a hot, hot day. It was when the Dual Purpose Reactor--it was a D Reactor--was being dedicated. And Kennedy--it was a very hot day out in the desert. And there was a big crowd--I don't know, 40,000 50,000--a lot of people. And a friend of mine and I--Bonnie Goldsmith. They were here early. And we took our kids, Philip and Jerry, but--
Miriam: Not me.
Lewis: Not you, no. And they were what, about five or six?
Miriam: No, it was 1963. They were seven or eight.
Lewis: Yeah, and they immediately ran around, got lost. We had to find them. But Kennedy spoke. He was the most impressive, the most glamorous man I think I've ever in my life seen. And he was a marvelous speaker. It was just a pleasure to sit down and look at him and listen to him. He was fantastic. And he had this magic wand that started the reactors at D Area. But this desert—I think there were 40,000, 50,000 people there. And it was a hot, hot day. And the cars were--length of cars there. I remember--when was D activated? I can't remember the date. But everybody spoke. It was a wonderful, wonderful affair. And it was so impressive that waving the wand started the reactor. So it made both electricity and the others.
Bauman: And your husband took some photos that day?
Lewis: Mm-hm. He took photos. And we have some of the photos in this book there. The information is there. My son gathered it all together. He published not very many of these. He just did--something that he wanted to do. So you may look at it, because the pictures and the information on there are much more accurate than what I'm giving you. [LAUGHTER] I don't remember a lot. Miriam might remember stuff when she started school here, too, that might be of interest. Okay?
Miriam: Well he can ask the questions, and if he wants to ask me I'm sure he will.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Well I was going to ask are there any other major events that happened while you were working at Hanford that you recall or--
Lewis: Oh, well no doubt there were a lot of major events. But I don’t—I mean, if you ask me the question, I could answer specifically. But as a whole, the work went on daily. The scientists were working on it all the time. And when they dropped the bomb in, what was it, August? Was it August?
Bauman: August, uh-huh.
Lewis: Everybody was waiting. We didn't know what they were waiting for. But they were waiting. The top fellows knew that the bomb was going to be dropped. And we did get the information, finally. It was terrible, really. It was a terrible thing to do. But they felt that they really saved lives by dropping that bomb. Because they stopped—I mean, they weren't winning, they weren't losing. It was a very iffy situation. And that, of course, stopped everything. It was terrible.
Bauman: I was going to ask you—Richland initially was a government town, federal government. At some point it became an independent--
Lewis: They sold the houses to the inhabitants.
Bauman: So were you able to buy your house at that point, then, buy a house?
Lewis: Yeah, we bought--what was the first house we bought? I think it was a B house.
Miriam: Was that the house where I was born?
Lewis: Yeah, it was a B house.
Miriam: Yeah.
Lewis: Two-bedroom house, a duplex.
Bauman: And do you remember, were people in Richland excited about the possibility to do that sort of thing, to have independent--
Lewis: Do they have what?
Bauman: Were people in Richland excited about being able to buy their own homes, be sort of independent?
Lewis: Oh, yeah. By that time they will permanently implanted here. And the job was going to go on. [COUGH] Excuse me. And they sold the houses for pittances. Especially the expensive houses were real bargains--the prefabs not so much, because they didn't cost much in the first place. But I think I was living in a B house then, a two-bedroom duplex. And I bought the whole house. And we rented out the duplex. And I lived there for a while. And then we sold it and bought a ranch house. [LAUGHTER] I've lived in, I think, every house here. I lived in a B house, in a ranch house, and in a--what else? In our house.
Miriam: I don't have the letters memorized. [LAUGHTER]
Lewis: Yeah, right.
Bauman: Is there anything that we haven't talked about yet, anything that--
Lewis: I kept upgrading myself.
Miriam: In terms of history, probably not, although you did ask about--Mom, I was just curious, because this is of course what I like to know, where did you grocery shop and stuff when you first came here?
Lewis: Well we had a Keiser's store, a grocery.
Miriam: When you first came here in '44?
Lewis: Well you know, I don't know what we had then. We had a Keiser--we had grocery stores. I think Safeway was here then.
Miriam: Oh, really?
Lewis: Yeah, right.
Miriam: Yeah, I was just curious.
Lewis: Mm-hm. I don't remember a lot. But I think there was plenty of shopping.
Miriam: Mm-hm. Were you happy with the schools you sent us to?
Lewis: Yes, I was active in the schools. And my relationships were very good. Our teachers were excellent. They were dedicated, because they came out here in the middle of nowhere. [LAUGHTER] What did you think about your teachers?
Miriam: Well I just thought--this is my impression, is that because there were so many scientists here that education was a value and that I remember that school levies, when I was growing up, because I born in 1958, the school levies always passed. Nobody considered that they shouldn't be spending public money to support education. And I always thought that was because of the heavy concentration of really highly educated people that came here.
Bauman: So what schools did you go to then?
Miriam: I went to Jefferson Elementary, Chief Joseph Junior High, and Richland High School. And my brother--Jerry went to Jason Lee to begin with. Mom, do you remember? Jerry didn't start at Jefferson.
Lewis: No, he didn't.
Miriam: Jason Lee?
Lewis: I don't remember.
Miriam: I think so. Anyhow, he started a different school and then went to Jefferson when we moved to the neighborhood where we--
Lewis: Lived.
Miriam: --Grew up. And where Mom still lives.
Bauman: And so, those elementary schools must have been pretty much new when your kids started there, or close to.
Lewis: Yeah. Jefferson was just built, I think. It wasn't very old.
Miriam: Yeah, I don't know.
Bauman: And just given the influx of population suddenly, all these young families, there had to have been a new school being opened that served the population there. Anything else you can think of that either one of you--we haven't talked about, or--?
Miriam: Well just that I think, Mom, you never thought that you would come out here and spend the rest your life here. [LAUGHTER]
Lewis: No, never. I never thought that. And it was away from my family, and from friends. However, we managed. We went back to Minnesota every summer. [LAUGHTER] Our families were there.
Miriam: But I want to come back a little bit to the synagogue. Because as a very, very tiny minority here, we families banded together to build the synagogue, it was a very, very strong community. And still, it's not as strong now in that same way, but these people were all like additional parents, or like aunts and uncles to all of us. And my mom was called Aunt Doris. My dad was called Uncle Walt. That was how we addressed the parents in those families, us as children. And that it's interesting to have this group of Jews wandering in this particular desert. [LAUGHTER] Because it really has a very, very--it's a microcosm of the whole Richland thing, where you have people coming from all over and creating a very strong, very close community, because they are away from all of the places they came from. And our Jewish community reflected that same phenomenon.
Bauman: Absolutely, yeah, right, thrown together from all these disparate areas.
Lewis: As time went on, we never intended--at first, we intended to move back to Minnesota when this job was finished. It was never finished.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] It just kept going.
Lewis: Yeah, so we stayed on. And it was our home. We loved it here. I love it here.
Bauman: That's a similar theme I get. A lot of people who I've talked to come here thinking they'll stay here for a little while and then end up staying for 40 years or 60 years or however long. [LAUGHTER]
Lewis: Yeah, right. A little while became forever.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Right, right. Well I want to thank you very much for coming in today.
Lewis: Yeah, I'm afraid I wasn't much help, because my memory's so bad. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: This was terrific.
Lewis: But it was fun. It was a wonderful experience. We loved it here. I still do.
Bauman: Well thank you again. Appreciate it.