Robert Franklin: My name is Robert Franklin. I’m conducting an oral history interview with Charles Davis on December 19th, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. I will be talking with Charles about his experiences working at the Hanford Site. And for the record, can you state and spell your full name for us?
Charles Davis: It’s Charles Davis. C-H-A-R-L-E-S D-A-V-I-S.
Franklin: Great, thank you very much. So tell me how and why you came to the area to work for the Hanford Site.
Davis: Back in 1977, I got out of the Army and I was working at Fort Lewis as a civilian. And it was a just-barely-over-minimum-wage job with no benefits, and I was looking for employment. And one of the employment people suggested I try out for Hanford. And it was Rockwell at the time. I came over and interviewed for Hanford Patrol and was hired.
Franklin: Okay. And when did you start at Hanford Patrol?
Davis: Well, I started working for Rockwell in August of 1978. And I went through the training for Hanford Patrol starting in January of 1979.
Franklin: Okay. And what did you do for Hanford Patrol?
Davis: Well, I was a patrolman. I worked most of the time out of the 300 Area until the 400 Area got its own headquarters. And then I was one of the people that moved to the 400 Area. Later on in 1980, I believe, I became one of the first four AMS—Alarm Monitoring System—lieutenants.
Franklin: Okay. AMS stands for Alarm Monitoring System.
Davis: Monitoring System.
Franklin: And so that was the electronic system, then, that, like, was monitored at a central location?
Davis: Well, there were several of them. One of them was around 234-5Z in 200 Area. That was the first one. And then around the 324 complex in 300 Area. And around the protected area at the 400 Area, Fast Flux Test Facility.
Franklin: Okay. So we—a couple weeks ago I did an interview with Bob Parr.
Davis: Mm-hm.
Franklin: Do you know him?
Davis: Yes, I do.
Franklin: He also worked as—and he mentioned the development of this system and how it changed—or kind of changed some of the tasks of the patrolmen. Or how—I think he mentioned that before, Hanford Patrol was kind of antiquated in its security systems, and I was wondering if you could talk about that switch from the older system to this alarm monitoring system and how it changed your job.
Davis: Well, before the Alarm Monitoring System went in, everything was visual. You had to be onsite and looking to see something happening. After the AMS system came in, there were several different systems around each of the Areas. There were microwaves, motion detectors, there was the Israeli fence, which was a taut wire fence. If you stretched it this way or to crawl through it, it set off an alarm. If you cut it, it also set off an alarm.
Franklin: And it was called an Israeli fence?
Davis: Israeli fence, because the Israelis were the ones that developed that technology.
Franklin: Oh, okay. Interesting. Would that get triggered often by wild animals or tumbleweeds or anything, or was it pretty—
Davis: The microwaves did, yes.
Franklin: Yeah?
Davis: And there were also cameras surrounding the protected areas. And if you got an alarm, the camera would come on automatically. For that particular location. They also—the cameras rolled through the security screens, so you’d see everything in a—I can’t remember the timeframe—two or three minutes. But if an alarm went off, the cameras automatically focused in on that particular location.
Franklin: Interesting.
Davis: They also had cameras on the inside of Dash-5.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: And in fact, the first time we were out there training on the system, they had a problem. They had a plutonium container break, and it crapped up quite a bit of the backside and main hallway in Dash-5.
Franklin: Oh, wow. Was there—were you near that area, or were you just in the building?
Davis: Well, the place where the alarm monitoring system was located, the control room was in a separate building.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: But it was within the protected area.
Franklin: Right. But you’re saying though, that—it’s interesting that when you were training on that system, in that building there was like a pretty serious accident—
Davis: Yes.
Franklin: --that occurred. Okay. And I guess you probably would have been pretty new on the job still, then, or--?
Davis: Well, I’d had two years on Hanford Patrol--
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: --but only a month or two as an AMS lieutenant.
Franklin: So kind of describe for me the—you know, your average workday, both as a patrolman and then later as an AMS lieutenant.
Davis: Well, the patrolmen were security for the Site. So most of the time, we were at a fixed location, at a gate or at a barricade like the Y barricade or the Yakima barricade, and we checked badges of people coming in.
Franklin: Okay. And then what about as an AMS lieutenant?
Davis: That was mostly sitting in the control room, monitoring the system. Although the systems weren’t fully operational for a while after the four of us were promoted to lieutenant. So we assisted the shift lieutenant and did whatever they needed.
Franklin: Hm. How come the systems were only installed in those select areas?
Davis: Because those were the protected areas.
Franklin: Protected areas, okay.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: So what designated a protected area from a non-protected area?
Davis: Mostly it was where plutonium was stored, and that had other classified information.
Franklin: Okay. And how long did you work on the AMS system?
Davis: Up until I got out of patrol in August of ’82.
Franklin: Oh, okay, so just for a couple years then?
Davis: Yeah.
Franklin: And then what did you do after leaving AMS?
Davis: I became a nuclear process operator.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: And I worked at Dash-5. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Oh, okay. And what is a nuclear process operator?
Davis: Well, I was hired to do terminal clean-out. And there were two production lines at Dash-5: the A line, which was the original one, and then the C line. We were going to be doing terminal clean-out, or getting it ready to be destroyed, for the A line. And they figured there was somewhere around 3,000 grams of plutonium in the system, and we would get about half of it out. And that was based on a non-destructive assay. And it turned out we got over 5,000 grams out, and there was still about 1,500 left in it.
Franklin: Oh, okay, so there was kind of more than double the original estimate.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Wow. And was that plutonium usable, or was it in a form that was not usable?
Davis: It was scrap—powder and mixed in with other chemicals. It was all collected, put in little plastic jars about this tall, and stored. It could have been sent through the Plutonium Reclamation Facility and reused. I can’t remember if any of it was or not.
Franklin: Okay. To give, I think maybe our future viewers and myself an idea—how much is 5,000 grams of plutonium? Like what size, what amount would that be? Can you compare it to something?
Davis: Well, a plutonium button usually runs around 2 kilograms or 2,000 grams, and it’s about the size of a hockey puck.
Franklin: Right, right. Which is why they’re sometimes called pucks.
Davis: Right. The scrap we were getting out was mixed with other stuff, so it was—the volume was a lot larger.
Franklin: Oh, okay, okay. So there were 5,000 grams of plutonium mixed in with a lot of other—
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Okay, I see. And how long did it take to do the terminal clean-out of the A line?
Davis: Well, we were also cleaning equipment out. And the whole thing lasted well over a year.
Franklin: Okay. And then what did you do after that?
Davis: Well, then we went on to removing a vacuum system. There was a vacuum system throughout the facility that people used for various processes. And one of the things they used for, at the beginning, was if you had some extra solution, they kind of sucked it up and so it disappeared. Well, it didn’t really disappear. It went into the piping and kind of sat there. And these were about six inch in diameter pipes. And in some locations, they were half-filled with various stuff. Chemicals mixed in with plutonium. Kind of like a salt cake.
Franklin: Okay. So kind of similar to the waste tank scenario, then.
Davis: Exactly.
Franklin: There’s stuff in there from the process and no one really knew the exact elements and concentrations of chemicals and things.
Davis: Correct.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: And we took the piping out, pipefitters cut it, the operators bagged it and lowered it down, and then it went into storage boxes.
Franklin: And then I assume those were disposed of in like a solid waste landfill, or--?
Davis: I’m not sure where they ended up.
Franklin: Sure. This—what you’re describing sounds a lot—similar to what’s going on there today, in terms of the tear-down and demolitions of the buildings.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: I’m wondering if you could talk about kind of the protective measures that you and your coworkers worked in and the kinds of safety equipment that you used then. You don’t have to compare it to now if you don’t know the current—but I’m just kind of curious as to how—what the kind of precautions and kind of culture of safety was then.
Davis: Okay. Well, of course, whenever we were on the backside of the operations side of Dash-5, we were in SWPs. Which are canvas overalls.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: And whenever we were working in a glovebox, we taped up with surgeon gloves. All the gloveboxes had lead-lined gloves in them. And if we were doing anything that might be—might cause a puncture in the gloves, we wore either canvas or leather gloves over them.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: When we were taking the vacuum system out, we would build plastic greenhouses around the area that we were working in to control contamination, in case something happened. We went in usually with two pairs of coveralls, and respirators. Sometimes we only used air purifying respirators, and sometimes we used power air purifying respirators.
Franklin: What’s the difference?
Davis: The powered ones had battery packs and it was forced air. So you always had a positive airflow through your mask, so if anything happened, the air went out, rather than when you were breathing in, it could get around the edges of your mask and be pulled in if you didn’t have a good enough seal.
Franklin: Oh, okay, okay, I see. And I assume you wore dosimetry equipment—the personal--
Davis: Yes, all the time.
Franklin: What kind do you remember? The badge kind, or--?
Davis: Every once in a while we used the pencils, but not very often during terminal clean-up. Later on, I worked on the RMC line when they were producing plutonium buttons, and then we wore the pencils also. We also had dosimetry on our ring finger.
Franklin: Oh, the finger dosimeters.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: And those were changed out monthly, both the badge TLDs and the ring ones.
Franklin: Interesting. And—great, thank you. And so where—when you finished with the A line, and then you moved to the piping.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: How long did the piping take to—
Davis: Again, over a year.
Franklin: Oh, over a year, okay. And then—
Davis: And some of the piping was over the office side of Dash-5.
Franklin: Oh. So how did you handle that situation?
Davis: Again, we built big plastic greenhouses.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: And fortunately we didn’t have a problem. We never lost containment or anything.
Franklin: So that building was still producing—or what was the purpose of the 245—sorry—it was the--
Davis: 234-5Z.
Franklin: 234, what was the purpose of that building?
Davis: It turned plutonium nitrate solution into plutonium buttons.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So it was like a plutonium processing—
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Okay. And was that still in active use when you were removing the piping and the A line?
Davis: No.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: However, after we stopped, they—because of the buildup during the Reagan years, they revamped the RMC line and started using it again.
Franklin: Okay, so you’d already taken out the A line, you’d taken out some of—
Davis: Well, the A line actually—when we finished with it, it sat there for another 25 or 30 years, and it just was removed within the last two or three years.
Franklin: So what did you do with it, if you didn’t—you were just cleaning it, instead of removing—
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Oh, okay, okay. Was it used again after you cleaned it?
Davis: No, because they took out all of the equipment.
Franklin: Right. But the C line was still in use.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Okay, interesting. So you removed the piping over the offices, and then what happened? What did you move on to?
Davis: Then we moved on to revamping the RMC line.
Franklin: Okay. And what is the—do you remember what RMC stands for?
Davis: Remote Controlled and then C is just like A, B, C, D.
Franklin: Oh, okay. And what was the purpose of the RMC line?
Davis: To change plutonium nitrate into plutonium buttons.
Franklin: Okay. So you said you revamped it. So what—
Davis: Well, it was sort of mothballed.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: So some of the equipment had to be replaced. Some of the leaded glass windows had to be replaced.
Franklin: And that’s that really thick glass.
Davis: Right. They were inch-and-a-half to two inches thick. And the reason they had to be replaced was you couldn’t see through them. Because of the radiation, they got fogged over. So it was the operators’ job to prepare the area for the boilermakers to go in and actually do the window change.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: You know, union rules. Because it was a pressure vessel, the boilermakers had to do the work on that. That was a pretty dangerous job, because some of these hoods were powder hoods. And if you think of talcum powder, that’s what the plutonium powder was like, so it had a tendency to fly all over. Fortunately, we never had any skin contaminations on any of the window changes. A good pre-job planning, and everybody knew what they were doing.
Franklin: So, when you went in to those hoods, there would have just been powder from the processing in there.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Okay. Wow, that’s—so then you were able to change the—or to prepare it—how would you—did you remove the powder, or--?
Davis: As much as we could. But you could never get all of it. And even though the hoods are negative pressure, when you’re disturbing them, there’s a chance for the powder to come out of the hoods.
Franklin: Sure. And how did you handle that exactly?
Davis: Well, we built greenhouses—plastic greenhouses—around them. The people that went in were on supplied air respirators, so it was even more than the powered air purifying. The supplied air, there were large tanks of air inside and hoses that went in, connecting to the mask. And they—people had escape packs, little five-minute emergency bottles, so in case something happened they could still get out. And when we were doing changing the powder hoods, we wore the two pair of coveralls plus a plastic suit. And these plastic suits were made by the plastic shop up on the third floor of the building. So it was a pair of trousers that went up about mid-waist—mid-chest. And then like a parka that went over the top. And then they got taped to the coveralls, and then gloves over them, so there was—you were completely encased in this plastic. Which made it awfully warm, too.
Franklin: I would imagine—yeah, that was going to be my next question. How was it to work in that? I imagine your dexterity is somewhat compromised, and your vision is somewhat compromised. What is it like to work in that kind of suit? Like, I’m imagining you just—your body feels different.
Davis: Mostly hot.
Franklin: Mostly hot?
Davis: When you get out of there, you usually could wring sweat out of your underclothes.
Franklin: Really?
Davis: Yup.
Franklin: Wow. Were there any instances of people ever overheating in that? Like, having exertion and not—
Davis: Not that I recall.
Franklin: Oh, okay, but just very hot and humid.
Davis: Yeah.
Franklin: And then what about trying to manipulate tools with so many layers of gloves on, on the fingers?
Davis: Well, we wore surgeon gloves as the inner protecting. With the surgeon gloves, there’s not a problem.
Franklin: Sure.
Davis: At least not for me. I wore as tight of surgeon gloves as I could, rather than having really loose ones like some people did. With the canvas gloves, it was a little awkward.
Franklin: Interesting.
Davis: The people taking—like taking the bolts off of the powder hood and stuff, it wasn’t that much of a problem, because they were usually wearing gloves anyway. You know, boilermakers. So they’re used to it.
Franklin: Would the boilermakers also need—I imagine they would also need the same level of protective equipment.
Davis: Oh, yeah, everybody that went in it wore that.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So that was a basic level of training no matter—union job—because they had to have different groups of people, like pipefitters to deal with pipes, right, boilermakers to deal with—okay.
Davis: Right. And like on the A line when we were removing equipment, the operators didn’t remove the equipment. Didn’t disassemble the equipment. Millwrights disassembled the equipment. The operators would seal them out of the gloveboxes.
Franklin: Okay. And then would you move the equipment, or would teamsters be needed to move the equipment?
Davis: No, we could move the equipment. Because it was contaminated. I mean, it was obviously inside the hood, so it was contaminated.
Franklin: Right, right, right. Okay. So after the RMC line, where did you move to next?
Davis: I also—while we were working on that, I was also working up in the Plutonium—PFP—PRF, Reclamation Facility. Which is the six-story building that’s attached to 234-5.
Franklin: Okay, and that’s the one that’s coming down—no.
Davis: It’s, I think in the process right now.
Franklin: In the process of coming down right now, okay. And what did you do in the PRF?
Davis: That was also refurbishing it to be used.
Franklin: So this was during the Reagan—
Davis: Right.
Franklin: The Reagan buildup.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: And describe refurbishing.
Davis: Changing out piping that was old. It looked like when they shut it down people just walked off so there were tools left inside. The system used nitric acid, tributyl phosphate, in the process. And we would find things like pliers that had been left in nitric acid for a year or two and were sometimes almost as sharp as knives, because the acid would eat away.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: And we’d seal that stuff out. We were replacing pumps and—
Franklin: So, like, literally, it looked like they had just walked off--
Davis: Yup.
Franklin: --the job one day in the middle of work.
Davis: Right, just—
Franklin: Did you ever figure out why that was? Is that actually what happened, or--?
Davis: I think it was, well, we were never going to use this again, so we’ll just leave it. Rather than taking time to clean it up and—
Franklin: Do you know how long it was from when they had stopped work to when you went into start refurbishing it?
Davis: No.
Franklin: Oh, okay. Do you have any guesses, based on—
Davis: Probably about ten years.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So it had been a fairly—
Davis: Yup.
Franklin: So there probably was dust everywhere, and—
Davis: Yeah. The PRF had six floors. The top two were just small areas where the top of the columns were. The other four floors had gloveboxes in them where the operations was conducted. And from the control room, which was up on the fourth floor, depending on what exactly they were doing at that particular moment, they’d get out their procedure and run through it. You needed an open valve, whatever number it was on the first floor, and closed valve on the second floor and so on and so forth.
Franklin: Okay. And so how long did you work refurbishing—how long did the refurbishing work take on PRF?
Davis: I can’t remember. Probably six to eight months.
Franklin: Oh, okay. To get it back ready for operation. And how many men would be working on a project like that?
Davis: [LAUGHTER] That’s a good question. There were quite a few.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: Not just men. Men and women.
Franklin: Sorry. People.
Davis: We had women nuclear process operators.
Franklin: Oh, okay. And when—were there women nuclear process operators when you started?
Davis: Yes.
Franklin: Okay. And so what happened after the PRF was refurbished?
Davis: I moved out to shipping and receiving at Dash-5.
Franklin: Seems like a pretty different job change. You know, a shift.
Davis: It was shipping and receiving radioactive material.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So still handling—but this time handling kind of the finished product instead of cleaning it up.
Davis: Right. Once they started making buttons in the RMC line, they had to go someplace.
Franklin: Right, okay.
Davis: And that’s what we were doing.
Franklin: And can you describe shipping and receiving? What was an average day like in shipping and receiving?
Davis: I don’t know if there was really an average day. When we had a shipment going out, the shipments were sent on SSTs, Safe Secure Transports, which are semi-trucks that are specially designed to transport nuclear material.
Franklin: And what does the special design consist of?
Davis: The tractors were armored. The trailers had anti-tampering devices, so to speak. If you look at a regular semi-truck trailer, walls are about this thick. Walls on these were this thick. And I don’t know all of the devices they had in those, but they—if somebody tried to hijack them, it would have been virtually impossible. Somebody said that they had a foam device that if the trailer was tipped over or if it was opened without keys, the foam would come in and solidify around the containers inside. And the trucks were driven by special couriers who were armed. They usually had one to two SUVs traveling with the truck, full of armed men. And I don’t remember ever seeing any women in that group.
Franklin: Okay. And how often would a delivery take place?
Davis: I can’t remember any frequencies.
Franklin: Now, what about receiving? Is that when you would intake the solution to make buttons?
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Okay. And describe that process.
Davis: The PUREX plant in East Area was operating at that time, and they separated the plutonium out of the fuel rods and turned it into plutonium nitrate solution. These were shipped over to Dash-5. Most of the time in 55-gallon drums that had inner containers that were about six inches in diameter and two-and-a-half to three feet tall. That’s because that’s a criticality safe configuration. And you certainly didn’t want a criticality to happen.
Franklin: Right, so that way you could put two drums next to each other—or near each other, and there would be enough space in between the—
Davis: Right, that and the shape of the container’s cylindrical, no more than six inches in diameter. So you wouldn’t want to just put it in the bottom of a 55-gallon drum, because that would not be a critically safe configuration, and you could get a criticality.
Franklin: Interesting. I wonder how they figured that out.
Davis: Hopefully not through trial and error. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Some things are better figured out not through trial and error. So how long did you work in shipping and receiving?
Davis: About two years and then I moved to the burial grounds and Central Waste Complex.
Franklin: Before we get to that, what was your job in shipping and receiving? Were you just like a clerk, or--?
Davis: No, I was an operator and we loaded the containers.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So you unloaded probably at the receiving end and then—
Davis: Right.
Franklin: I heard from somebody else—I interviewed somebody that worked there and they said the guards on the transport trucks were not a friendly bunch. Did you ever have any interactions with them?
Davis: No.
Franklin: Or was it just strictly business?
Davis: Strictly business.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: The—never mind.
Franklin: No, no, no, no, no, go ahead.
Davis: It flew out of my mind. Oh, I know what I was going to say. Some of the SSTs were driven around completely empty. And some of them were full.
Franklin: Right, probably to—
Davis: So that just because there was an SST on the road, people wouldn’t know whether it was loaded or not. And even if it was loaded to the maximum that they could carry, compared to a regular semi-truck, they were light.
Franklin: Oh, right. Light in load.
Davis: Lightweight.
Franklin: Lightweight. Interesting. I could see how that is kind of a good counter-espionage tactic.
Davis: Mm-hm. And the other thing that we did in shipping and receiving was monitor the vaults where they had both plutonium buttons and plutonium powder in the vaults. And every once in a while, they would come in and take containers out to assay it, just to make sure nobody’s sneaking it out in their lunchbox, I guess. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: And that’s where the can monitoring units were, right? In the vault? Is that where those were employed?
Davis: Yeah.
Franklin: Okay, we have a couple of those in our collection. And I’ve seen the—you go into the vault and they’re all kind of strategically-arranged around so you don’t have a criticality incident. So you monitored those as well?
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Did you ever perform any of the assays, or was it--?
Davis: Well, there were people that actually performed the assays. But operators including myself were the people that went into the vault, take the containers, and put them in the assay machines. Then they’d do the—and then we’d put them back.
Franklin: Was there—anyone ever sneak, that you know of—sneaked—seems like a very risky thing to do for a very small amount of material.
Davis: There were monitors on the exits, and you couldn’t have gotten through. In fact, the monitors would go off if somebody had, like, radiation, iodine, x-ray.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: You know, downtown. And they’d come out to work and the monitor—alarm would go off.
Franklin: Interesting. And so there’s a pretty tight level of security, then, at the Plutonium Finishing—
Davis: Yeah. There had to be at least two people whenever you went into the vault.
Franklin: Oh, okay. And then there was checks on entry and exit as well.
Davis: Right. And remember the AMS system?
Franklin: Yeah.
Davis: There were cameras in there so they could see what you were doing.
Franklin: Was that the same at the other places you worked at? At the 234-5Z and other places? Was the security system similar, was it pretty high—
Davis: Well, the shipping and receiving building was inside the 234-5Z compound. So it was part of that.
Franklin: Oh, okay. And then what about when you were working in kind of the refurbishing or cleanup? Was there also pretty tight security presence there as well?
Davis: Not as much.
Franklin: Okay. Probably because there’s no finished product there.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: So then you said you went out to the burial grounds.
Davis: Right, and Central Waste Complex.
Franklin: Central Waste Complex—and just describe that. What went into the burial grounds?
Davis: Anything they wanted to get rid of.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: Low-level waste.
Franklin: Low-level. Solid?
Davis: Yes.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: When they started back in the ‘40s, it was back your truck up to the edge of the burial ground and throw whatever was on it into the ditch. So you had drums and boxes every which way, you know, laying on top of each other. By the time I got there, they were stacking them neatly and doing recoverable storage—if anybody ever needed to get whatever they buried out again.
Franklin: Okay. So much more like—I don’t even know how to describe it. But not just like a dump anymore, but in case they accidentally sent something to the disposal that they needed back—
Davis: Right, or wanted to get back to reprocess it later.
Franklin: Oh. So what kind of system kept track of that? Like, how would you—how would somebody come and get something back?
Davis: There was paperwork on everything that we put in there. And the paperwork was saved, so if somebody was looking for something, we buried such-and-such item in 1987. They could look through and find out where it went and the position in the trench, how far from the front or the back.
Franklin: Oh okay, so it was still being buried in the ground.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: And so would you fill those when they got full?
Davis: Yeah.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: They, in fact, every so often, they would—as we went from one end of the trench to the other, and when there was a certain number of feet of items that were being buried, they brought bulldozers in and covered the boxes and drums.
Franklin: Okay. Now, what would the process be if somebody needed to get something that was buried by bulldozer out? Would they have to excavate and then—
Davis: Yeah. It never happened while I was there. So I’m not sure how they would do it, exactly, but they’d say, well, it’s x number of feet from the beginning of the trench, and that would be right here, and I guess we’re going to have to dig a big hole and try to get it out. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: And so how long did you work at the burial ground for?
Davis: Up until ’91.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: So another couple of years.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: And Central Waste Complex is a series of buildings that they stored radioactive waste in, rather than burying it.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So that’s different from the burial grounds, then?
Davis: Well, the people doing the operations were in the same group.
Franklin: Okay. But the burial—so the Waste Complex, was that—that’s not tank waste, or is that?
Davis: No.
Franklin: Okay, that’s just other types of waste.
Davis: Right. There were 13 buildings that were 4,000 square feet and they had just built those when I got into burial grounds. And there were four more buildings built after that. The biggest one was 56,000 square feet if I remember correctly.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: 12 of the original 13 buildings, we received waste from 100-H Area.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: And that was from one of the trenches out there that they sent water from the reactors out and let it settle. And they were—it was mixed waste. Radioactive and chemical waste.
Franklin: Oh. So how would that—so then that got into the soil, I—
Davis: Right, so then they were digging up the soil, putting it in 55-gallon drums and then sending it to Central Waste Complex with the idea that it would eventually be reprocessed to separate the radioactive material from the chemical material.
Franklin: Wow. Did that ever happen?
Davis: No, not to my knowledge.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So they just—oh, sorry, go ahead.
Davis: The original containers were 55-gallon drums. And they started getting pinhole leaks from the chemicals that were in there. So they repacked them in 110-gallon drums. And some of those started getting leaks. So they repacked them in plastic drums, bigger—even bigger.
Franklin: Any leaks on those?
Davis: Not by the time I left.
Franklin: Okay.
[LAUGHTER]
Franklin: But those were stored aboveground then, in these buildings.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Probably, I guess, for easy—
Davis: Retrieval.
Franklin: Retrieval and—
Davis: And for monitoring also.
Franklin: Yeah, I was going to say, that’s—I mean, that’s obviously how they knew there were leaks in them, which is good. Someone was monitoring them. And so then the other buildings mostly just stored waste that needed to be monitored and retrieved at a—
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Okay. So what did you—where did you go after the burial grounds or the Central Waste Complex?
Davis: I actually stayed in burial grounds but I went exempt. I went into administration.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: And I was there until 1996 when I was asked to move to T Plant. And then I was the building administrator out at T Plant.
Franklin: And—
Davis: Building administrator is the guy that orders supplies, makes—coordinates moves of people into or out of the plant and things like that.
Franklin: And what was the T Plant doing at that time?
Davis: They were decontaminating equipment.
Franklin: Okay. And the T Plant was one of the canyons, right?
Davis: Right.
Franklin: And it was one of the canyons where things were remote controlled because of the radioactivity?
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: In fact, it was the original processing facility.
Franklin: Right. So that was undergoing cleanup at the time—or a form of cleanup.
Davis: Well, they were decontaminating equipment from other places, plus whatever was in there.
Franklin: Okay. And so what—so kind of describe—well, so—sorry. So, they’re bringing in equipment from other places in there to also decon—
Davis: Right.
Franklin: So that was kind of a decontaminating location?
Davis: Right.
Franklin: So how long did that work take?
Davis: As far as I know, they’re still doing it.
Franklin: And where did that take place? I imagine that the canyon itself—
Davis: In the canyon.
Franklin: Oh okay.
Davis: The cells where the processing took place was below deck.
Franklin: Mm-hm.
Davis: And each cell had a concrete cap on it that could be removed by a crane. And these were probably six feet thick.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: And they were stair-step so you could make a good seal. And the processing—the decontamination stuff took place on the deck.
Franklin: On the top.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Of the—okay. And so I imagine the people that were in there were in full—
Davis: Right. Supplied air respirators.
Franklin: I guess that makes sense, right, because if you’re decontaminating something and it gets crapped up, I mean, you’re already in a pretty hot place.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: As far as radioactivity goes, so you’re not going to wreck a place that has no or very little radioactivity.
Davis: If—
Franklin: what kinds of equipment would you be cleaning up?
Davis: All sorts.
Franklin: From what—from other canyons, or--?
Davis: Yeah, I’m not sure where it all came from.
Franklin: Oh, okay. But from other buildings onsite.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: Because at that point it was decontaminate—there was no processing anymore, right?
Davis: Correct.
Franklin: It was just decontamination.
Davis: There is a pool on the north end where, when I got there they had fuel elements in that came from offsite. I’m not—back east some place.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: Sea-something? Seabrook? Someplace way back east, like on the coast. And while I was there, they built a new facility in East Area that they stored the reactor—irradiated reactor fuel from N area. They also took the stuff out of the T Plant pool and moved it over there, too.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: If you want to talk to somebody that had a really interesting job, talk to one of the crane operators that worked at T Plant.
Franklin: Yeah? Okay. Do you know anybody?
Davis: I’d have to think on their names. It’s been—[LAUGHTER]
Franklin: 20 years?
Davis: Not quite. About 15 since I got laid off.
Franklin: And so—how long did you work at—how long were you the building administrator at the T Plant?
Davis: Up until I got laid off in 2003.
Franklin: Okay, so you worked for about 25 years—
Davis: At Hanford, right.
Franklin: At Hanford, okay. And what did you—were they just drawing down operations then—
Davis: Yeah.
Franklin: Or were you just kind of a senior person and they were like, well—
Davis: There were 300 people laid off the same day I was.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Davis: So it wasn’t like, just you.
Franklin: It wasn’t personal?
Davis: No.
Franklin: But were operations kind of dwindling, then, at that point?
Davis: Yes.
Franklin: So a lot of the work scope had been accomplished. And then what did you do after you were laid off?
Davis: I worked for the Washington State Patrol.
Franklin: Oh, okay. So kind of back to patrol.
Davis: Right, as a—I was a commercial vehicle enforcement officer.
Franklin: Interesting. And that’s at the waystations?
Davis: That’s one of them, yeah. I worked down at the Plymouth waystation. And then I got promoted to CVE-02 and went into compliance review, which is investigating trucking companies. And then I went to be the lead worker at the interior detachment for our district, which is from Yakima to the Idaho border.
Franklin: Okay. How long did you do that for?
Davis: 11 years.
Franklin: Oh, okay, so you just retired from that as well?
Davis: Yup.
Franklin: And then how did you get involved with the B Reactor Museum Association?
Davis: Well, that was something that I was kicking around for a long time to get involved with. And last April I finally said, let’s do it. So my wife and I joined.
Franklin: And why? What was the interest there?
Davis: Preserving B Reactor. These buildings and processes out there just fascinate me.
Franklin: How so?
Davis: Just because of the at-the-time-cutting-edge technology that was being developed. I mean, obviously, you look at what we have today compared to what it was in 1944, but back then it was just amazing. And the facilities—just—I just find them amazing.
Franklin: What other buildings or processes do you wish could be saved or would have been saved on the Hanford Site?
Davis: I think they should save T Plant, because it was the first production facility.
Franklin: Right, because I mean, it’s also kind of groundbreaking in that way. And you can’t really tell the story of B Reactor without that other half.
Davis: Right.
Franklin: And what else—are there any others?
Davis: Let’s back up just a second on T Plant.
Franklin: Sure.
Davis: Back in the 1960s, after they shut down the processing there, they cleaned up the canyon enough so that they invited the families of workers to come out, and they had some sort of function in the canyon.
Franklin: Wow. That is really interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before. How did you hear about that?
Davis: Some of the operators, when I first went into operations, were at T Plant when that happened.
Franklin: Wow.
Davis: And if it could be cleaned up that much so people could actually get into the canyon, I think that would be fantastic.
Franklin: I think I agree—I agree with you. That would really—goes a long way into telling that story. Because otherwise, it—you know, what happens to the fuel after we irradiate it?
Davis: Right. And I think the 400 Area, the Fast Flux Test Facility would be a good addition, too.
Franklin: Why is that?
Davis: Because it was a sodium reactor. Sodium-cooled reactor.
Franklin: Yeah, it’s a fascinating piece of technology. A couple weeks ago we interviewed the guy who patented it, Eugene Astley. And it’s a very—a shame that that reactor didn’t get to kind of live up to its fullest potential, being shut down so quickly after it was created. Can you describe living in—your thoughts on living in Richland—I guess I should ask, did you live in Richland when you worked at Hanford?
Davis: Yes, most of the time.
Franklin: Most of the time. What was it like living in Richland during the Cold War and then the shift to not the Cold War and the rise of environmental consciousness?
Davis: I don’t think it was very different than anywhere else.
Franklin: Okay.
Davis: I wasn’t there when it was a company town where you had to be working at Hanford, before you could live in Richland.
Franklin: Sure.
Davis: Those type of questions, I’m sure you asked my wife.
Franklin: Yes. We usually do ask, you know, anybody who was there at the time. Did you ever feel an immediacy to the Cold War, kind of living and working in a site that was producing material for the US nuclear weapons arsenal? The fact that Hanford might have been a prime target—
Davis: Yeah.
Franklin: --for Russian bombing. Or knowing what the work was contributing to, do you have any feelings about that, good or bad?
Davis: Well, we realized that Hanford might be a target. But we—at least I thought it would probably be other places before Hanford, because anything we produced there, it would take so long to get into the system.
Franklin: Oh.
Davis: I was more worried about somebody trying to steal plutonium or technology than somebody dropping a bomb.
Franklin: Is there anything else that I haven’t asked you that you’d like to talk about?
Davis: Not that I can think of.
Franklin: Okay, well, Charles, thank you so much for coming in and interviewing with us today—participating in the interview. You’re not interviewing anything. But thank you. You gave a lot of great detail about some of the cleanup and refurbishment. And I really appreciate that; I think that was really interesting work, kind of working at this pivotal time between kind of the shutdown of the Carter administration and then the uptick in the Reagan administration is really interesting and not really—a story that hasn’t been told really well yet at Hanford. So I really appreciate you shining a lot of light on that.
Davis: Okay, thank you.
Franklin: Great.
Northwest Public Television | Bush_Bob
Robert Bauman: I’m going to have you start just by saying your name, first.
Robert Bush: Okay, my name is Bob Bush.
Bauman: My name is Robert Bauman, and we're conducting this interview with Robert, or Bob, Bush on July 17 of 2013. And we're having this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And we'll be talking with Bob about his experiences working at the Hanford site. And so I'd like to start just by having you talk about how and when you arrived at Hanford. What brought you here?
Bush: Okay. During World War II, I was overseas. My parents were in the area, both of them working. My brother was also here in Pasco High School. When I came home from the service to Southern Idaho, Korean War broke out. Wages were frozen, and so I was looking to better myself. And I applied by mail. I was interviewed by telephone. And I came up here in 1951 to the accounting department, General Electric Company. They were the sole contractor. And for 15 years, in construction and engineering accounting, which was separate from plant operations at that time. And from there, my accounting career followed its path through several successive contractors. From GE to ITT, Atlantic Richfield, to Rockwell, and finally with Westinghouse. When I retired, I was with Westinghouse for one month.
Bauman: You said your parents were here during the war. When did they come out?
Bush: It was '43. 1943 and '44, my mother worked for the original postmaster of Richland, Ed Peddicord. And my dad was a carpenter. Built some of the first government houses called the Letter Homes. They were here about two years, I think. And then they went back to Idaho, I believe.
Bauman: Okay. And what part of Idaho?
Bush: Twin Falls, Idaho. Where I graduated from high school.
Bauman: Okay. What were your first impressions upon arriving in the Tri-Cities?
Bush: That's kind of interesting, Bob. Because I came up ahead of my wife and two--year-and-a-half old, and three-and-a-half-year-old sons. About two weeks ahead of them. And so I found a Liberty trailers to rent—the housing was nonexistent. And I found a Liberty trailer, which means it had no running water, no bathroom. It was like a camping trailer, basically. I sent for them. A brother-in-law who had graduated from high school went directly into the Korean War. He drove them up as far as Huntington. I went on a bus to Huntington and met them, came back. And as we came onto the Umatilla side, and I said, that's Washington. Well, there was no green and everybody was disappointed. But that's the first impression. I mean, there wasn't a bridge over the river in Umatilla. It was a ferry. So you drove around the horn at Wallula. Things were just really different.
Bauman: So you said you had a trailer. Where was--
Bush: In Pasco on a front yard of an old pioneer home, where Lewis Street crosses 10th. That was the end on Lewis Street at 10th. And from there west was called Indiana. And there was about three homes on there. And it just quit. And roughly across from the present day Pasco School Administration Building, which was a Sears building. Across the street there was where this home was. I mean, things have just—in the whole area—have changed so much.
Bauman: And how long did you live there then?
Bush: Until I was called for housing in Richland, which was six months. That was in June, no air conditioning. And finally got into an apartment building, a one-bedroom before with two little boys that slept in the same crib. It was still, basically, wartime conditions. Weren't any appliances for sale and you had to stand in line to get a refrigerator. It was a different world. But we were young, so we could take it.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And was this in Richland then, the apartment?
Bush: No, that was in Pasco. After that trailer, that was only about two weeks. And then we want into this apartment, the one-bedroom. Then we moved next door to a two-bedroom in a five-plex. And then in December, six months later, I got the first--I got a housing call from the housing office in Richland, which sat where the present day police station sits. And the lady offered me—she said, you could have it Saturday. It was a prefab. It had already been worn and pulled out. And I kind of hesitated. I said, I've already got something in Pasco. Well, she said, I could let you have a brand new apartment. That apartment was brand new. It was so clean. My wife, who was very fastidious, she didn't even have to clean cupboards. And the apartments have now been torn down by Kadlec for that newest building. And in fact, this morning I just went by and took a picture of Goethals Street, which is vacated. And it was quite a pleasant move to come out of a trailer into—a non-air-conditioned cinder block building apartment into a nice, brand new apartment with air conditioning, full basement, and close to work. And at that time, my office was downtown in the so-called 700 Area, which is basically where the Federal Building is--where the Bank of America is was the police station. And that's Knight Street, I believe. From there north to Swift, and from Jadwin west to Stevens where the Tastee Freeze was, that was the 700 Area confines. Probably about 22 buildings in there. The original thing prior to computers, everything was manual bookkeeping or accounting with ledgers. And they came out with a McBee Keysort cards, and it was called electronic data processing. It was spaghetti wire with holes in the boards, that type of thing. That building had to be a special airlock building. And that's the Spencer Kenney Building beside the Gesa Building. That building is built especially to house equipment. And they just went from there. And I moved around my office. And after 15 years, I went into what they call operations. I was onsite services, which—did that for 17 years. And that was probably the better part of--second better job that I had, I guess. The transportation and everything, onsite support services. The whole point there. That job took me all over the plant. I established inventories. I took some of the first inventories of construction workers' supplies and tools and shop equipment, rolling stock. My name was Mud. They thought so much of me they gave me a desk in the corner of a big lunchroom. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So you did work at various places then?
Bush: Yes. Well, yes. My very first location was in North Richland, then called North Richland Camp, where the bus lot was--the maintenance shops. I'm trying to establish a point up there—what's over there today? There's a big sand dune on your left going by the automotive shops, past the bus lot, where the bus lot was. Opposite that sand dune on the other side of Stevens was a bunch of one-story temporary buildings. That was North Richland Camp. And that's where my first accounting job was there for two or three years. I had been there—I came there in June. And in January of '52, had 22 people along in my department that I worked in. I was a junior clerk at that time. Took me four years to get onto the management roles, but I did. But anyhow, in that room they came in there six months later. After I'd only been here six months, AEC, predecessor to the OA. The AEC has taken over more management, more responsibility. So we're going to be laying off a lot of people. I had only been here six months. And so others grabbed straws and went different places. I always said either I was too ignorant or lucky, I don't know what. But I just sat still and it panned out for the better. I didn't get laid off. I moved from there. But I went downtown to the 703 Building, which stood where the Federal Building is now. There's a building to the rear that the city owns called 703. That was the fourth wing. 703 was the frame construction, the three floors. And the later years, they added a fourth wing out of block building. Made it more permanent. That's why it's still standing today. Now, that was my second location. And then I got on the management role in '55, which meant I went exempt and no more pay for overtime. And went out to White Bluffs site—town site, and that's where the minor construction was located. Minor construction, it's the construction people that are specially trained in SWP, radiological construction work, as opposed to run-of-the-mill construction. And they're the ones that had never had any accounting at all for any equipment, supplies, materials or otherwise. And that's where I had the lunchroom office experience. It so happened that they established--I brought an inventory procedure and established that first inventory during a strike. We had to cut government-owned tool boxes. But still, the workers thought they were private. And we had to cut locks in order to take inventory. And then we feared for our lives when they came back. Pretty rough day sometimes.
Bauman: What timeframe would that have been you were out?
Bush: That was 1955 to '56. A couple of years there, and then another person took over from there and I went into budgeting at that point, from accounting to budgeting. And I did that for--until 1963. And then I moved out to the so-called bus lot, which it was. 105 buses and all that. And I was out there for 17 pleasant years, budgeting, billing rate—Because we were the supplier of all plant services. So we had billing rates to the reactors, and the separations, and the fuel prep, and--whoever. The AEC, everything. We billed them, just as if we were like plumbing jobs. And that I enjoyed. That was probably my most productive period. And from similar work to that, I moved over—Let’s see, I was around when the Federal Building was built, but I didn't get into it. That was built in '69. I didn't get down there until 1980. Went down there a couple of years. And then they moved us out to Hanford Square where Battelle Boulevard intersection is. And I was there--I retired from that location in 1977. My wife and I retired the same week. I've been retired 26 years now at the end of this month.
Bauman: Was your wife working at the Hanford Site as well?
Bush: She worked after the kids were grown, like most stay-at-home moms do. She stayed until the daughter was of age, and then she went to work for a credit union, which was the government credit union, which was merged later on with Gesa. But that was an interesting job. They worked two hours a day, three days a week. Because it was all hand done, no mechanization. And then she got a job offer from the department in the central stores and purchasing department. She worked there eight years. In 1986, the income tax law changed a lot of things for all of us, effective in 1987. It meant that partial vesting was--IRS has to rule on all things like that. And that meant that if you had 10 years to vest pensions, once you pass the 50% point, whatever the vesting period is, then you were partially vested. And so she had 8 years out of 10. So she got 80%. But she had only worked eight years, so it wasn't a very large accumulation. Because I got my full. Of course, I'd been here 37 years I think it was, however that works out. 36.
Bauman: I want to go back and ask you—when you were talking earlier about that period in '55, '56 when you were working out at White Bluffs town site. You mentioned radiological construction?
Bush: Oh, that—those construction workers worked under what they called SWP, Special Work Permit, which meant radiological. They had to wear--the clothing was called SWP clothing then. Today, they call it something else. But they worked under those conditions, so therefore they were subject to different rules. Whereas, construction workers on brand new construction weren’t then—they didn't have any of that to contend with. But once a plant went operational, it became radiologically SWP. This is not an anti-union thing. It's just a demonstration of how things were in those days. They had some old buses that--the original buses in town were called Green Hornets. And they were small. They had chrome bars that went right across the middle of your back. And for 35 miles, that was not very comfortable. When they got the newer buses that you see today, like Greyhound has for instance, they relegated those to the construction workers at White Bluffs. Well, since GE guys worked up at White Bluffs, we had to ride those, too. So all the office workers in the warehouse--GE employees rode one bus. The electricians rode another bus. Pipe fitters rode another bus, even though there were only two or three of them. It was really a segmented-type thing. As close to anything radiological that I came to when I conducting one of those physical inventories—we would be out--all of the construction materials were stored outdoors on the ground. I mean, like stainless steel. 308 stainless steel was pretty high-priced stuff. But the sheets were stored outside on pallets. Well, one sheet is worth thousands and thousands of dollars. So we had to lay down on the ground and count the sheets to do the inventory. This one day—the only time I came close to any contamination, we went back and boarded the buses that evening from White Bluffs. And we saw the guys on the dock there chipping with a chisel and hammer. That meant they were chipping out flakes of contamination. So we asked what was going on. They said, well, we're next door to F and H Areas. And F Area had coughed out something they said. And so I said, well, my crew was outside today on the ground. And if they coughed out because all the--some construction workers could drive their cars. That's the only people. Plant operations people all had to ride buses. No parking lots. So anyhow, those cars were all impounded. Had tape around them. They couldn't go home. And some of the guys, they had to take off their shoes, leave them, and be issued safety shoes in lieu of it. And I said, well, we were on the ground, too. So they proceeded to take us all off the bus and surveyed us with a wand. And they only found a few flakes on our back. And so we were allowed to go home. But that's as close as I ever came to getting contaminated. It's still scary.
Bauman: Yeah. Obviously, Hanford, a site where security was prominent--
Bush: Very tight security, yeah. I was telling the young lady here that across the roadway on Stevens, as you near the 300 Area, there was a real wide barricade, probably eight lanes that you had to go through. And everybody had to stop, including buses. And the guard would get on the bus, walk down the aisle, and check every badge. And at that time, AEC had their own security airplanes. That was the purpose of the Richland Airport was for AEC security in the beginning. They had a couple Piper Cub-type airplanes. And one day we're on a bus going out to work in the morning. And all of a sudden, a plane just zoomed on by. Somebody had run the barricade. The plane goes out, lands in front of them, stops them, and that's how they got apprehended. Another incident of security, yeah, that's the subject? Many years later now, after 1963, and I'm in the transportation assignment. Airspace was off limits to all airplanes over Hanford because they had army artillery guarding it in the Cold War and all that. And a private plane had violated the space. And the AEC planes had forced it down. And once they're down, they can't ever take off. So after a week or so, they sent a lowboy trailer out there, loaded the small airplane on it, proceeded to come down what's the highway and now Stevens. And down where Stevens today, 240 and all that intersection is, there was only two lanes on the road then, not six. But at that juncture there, there was a blinking light. And they had to turn right to go to the Richland Airport. And this guy, the truck driver pulling this low-boy, he had never pulled an airplane before. And he didn't allow for that pull. Well, that blinking light clipped off a wing. And then he got time off. It was not really his fault, that pilot in the beginning. But there's a lot of—I guess full of interesting stories like that on security.
Bauman: Great. Did you have special security clearance to work at Hanford at the time?
Bush: Which?
Bauman: Any special security clearance?
Bush: Oh, yeah. I had Q clearance, which there's one higher than that, that's top secret. But Q clearance meant you could go into any and all areas. And because the nature of my job, I had that my whole time I was out there. Once you have it, they would tend not to take it away from you because it's quite expensive investigation to get it in the first place. I might mention something interesting in that regard. When I first came to work in 1951, why, the PSQ is Personnel Security Questionnaire. And it's about 25 pages long. And you had to memorize it, because every five years, you had to update it. Well anyhow, I filled that out, and you give references. And I have, in the Twin Falls area, a farmer that had been a neighbor farmer in Nebraska, where I was born, to my parents. I gave him as a reference because he had known me all my life. And that would be higher points. About a year or two later--I guess probably a year later I had gone back down to Twin Falls to visit the in-laws and I went and saw this farmer, family friend. The first thing he said to me, Bobby, what in the world did you do? [LAUGHTER] The FBI had come out to his farm and piled on the questions. And I hadn't told him ahead of time I'd given a reference. So they really did very, very tight security. It's probably tighter than it was when I was in the Air Corps.
Bauman: You mentioned riding a bus out to work.
Bush: Yeah, everybody rode it, except those few construction workers in that minor construction area. They were permitted their cars. I don't know why, but no one else drove cars on the plant. Everybody rode on the bus. The bus fare was--of course, it was subsidized. It was a plant operation, like anything else is. To make the liability insurance legal, they charged a nickel each way on the bus, which later on got changed to a dollar or something. But many of the years, we'd ride the bus 30, 35, or 40 miles to work for a nickel. The nickel was just to make it legal. From those old green buses, they came up with some--I forget what they're called. More like Greyhound buses. And then in 1963, the year I went out to the transportation, they bought a fleet of Flxibles. And that's F-L-X. There's no E in it. That's the same kind of flat-nosed bus that the bus lines used today. And they were coaches, not buses. They had storage underneath. And so we had quite a suggestion system on the plant. And you would get monetary award or mention. And somebody said, well, instead of running mail carrier cars delivering mail to all the stops on the whole plant, load the mail onto the now available storage bins on these buses. And that was a pretty good suggestion award, monetarily, to somebody. And they did that. Took it out to a central mail station out there, and then dispatched it.
Bauman: You mentioned different contractors you worked for over the years--
Bush: Uh-huh. The story behind that for the record is that General Elec--well, DuPont built the plant. That's who my dad worked for. And GE came in '46, I believe. And they were here until the group I was in--they phased out in groups. I was the last group to go out. [COUGH] Excuse me, in 196--'66. When the GE phased out, they had a dollar a year contract. Like Henry Kaiser and rest of them did during the war, for the good of the country. But they trained an awful lot of people in the infancy field of nuclear engineering. General Electric trained all those people here and then they opened up the turnkey operations in San Jose and Japan. But anyhow, AEC was still AEC at that point. And then, their wise decision--instead of one contractor, they would have nine. And so there were--the reactors was one. Separation plant was another. Fuel preparation at 300 Area was another. The laboratories, which is today basically Battelle. Site services. The company doctors formed a foundation called Hanford Environmental Health Foundation, which is the MDs that gave the annual exams. And the computer end, it was now getting into the infancy of that, computer sciences corps, we had the first contracts on that. So all together, there were nine contractors. And the portion that I was with went to ITT. They bid, came in and bid. I helped conduct tours of the facility for the bidders. Because I knew all about it and knew the ins and outs on some of the monetary parts that their accounting people would have questions on. We'd walk through shops and all that. Well, anyhow, ITT got the site support--site services. And we had that for five years. And austerity set in in the '70s. Well, '70. They said, we got to get site services' budget down to less than $10 million. And it probably was 13 or 14, I don't remember now. So my boss and another analyst, like myself, sequestered--talk about sequester. We sequestered ourselves in the then new Federal Building for about a week. Almost 20 hours a day, whittling and whittling and working on a budget. And there was only one conclusion. We had to cut everything in half. Went through all that sweat. Went up with our president, Tom Leddy, went upstairs to an AEC finance office, presented our whole case. And the man turns around and says, well, it doesn't make any difference, Tom. Your contract's not renewed anyhow. And so now, Atlantic Richfield, an existing contractor for 200 Areas, somehow the separations plant contractor that is an oil company owned, can all of a sudden manage a site service. And so they did absorb us. But politics were still around in those days. And there were three of us analysts. One had got transferred by ITT up to the new line--newly established Distant Early Warning Line from Russia up to Alaska. So that left two of us. And we waited around. We waited around and never got an offer. And they said, no, we can do it all without you. We don't need you. How come it took so many people anyhow? On a Friday afternoon, the man that I did budgets for saw me in a restroom. He said, you got an offer yet? I said, no, no. I'm working under the table with somebody else. Well, he says, if they don't hire you, I'm going to hire you. And so he went downtown, and about 4 o'clock, I got a call from the man that told me they didn't need us. Said they'd been kind of thinking. So I went over Atlantic Richfield under those. [AUDIO CUTS OUT] And so I'm not mad, not knocking—knocking them, that's just the way things were. And then Rockwell came to town. When they laid off everybody on B-2, I'm trying to think of other--in the community, something might be of interest for the history project. Back into the '50s. Those same green buses, they had, oh, four or five of them that ran in town like a modified transit system. I don't think they had that many riders, but it did. And also, the plant buses ran what they called shuttle routes. And those buses went into Richland on probably six routes and drove around the neighborhoods and picked up workers on the three shifts. And that's why up in the ranch house district, there was the bypass you'll see between homes. The pathways that go clear through lots. Blocks were so long that they had to provide a quicker route to the bus stops. Now, those rides were free because they were shuttle buses. When you got out to the bus lot, you paid your nickel, or a pass, whatever it was.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about accounting in terms of equipment practices. Were there a lot of changes during the time you worked at the Hanford site? Computer technology come in and change things?
Bush: Oh, yeah. For sure. In the beginning, as I mentioned earlier, all accounting was open ledgers and hand posted. Adding machine tapes at the end of the day trying to balance them all out. And we had that until--let's see. 1970s—I think it was 1977, we got our very first taste of it. Every other desk in a group of about 20 people in cost accounting that I was in. There was cost accounting, general accounting, and so on, property management. But anyhow, we had about 20 people. Every other desk had a monitor. Well, they referred to them as a computer. But they were just the monitor. And down at the end of our building was one printer. And everything was on floppy disk. Every program was on a floppy disk. Nothing was built-in because it was just the infancy. The big computers were down in the Federal Building. And a sub-basement below the basement was specially built for that. But back to our office. Across the hall from us, we had two small computers that are--to me, they're about the size of portable sewing machines. And I can't even remember the names of them because they don't exist today but they were the computer locally. So we wanted to run our work order system, we would phone down to the guy down at the other end of the building, insert the floppy disk from work system and wait. Well, I've got somebody's inventory. You have to wait. Because there's only one place to load up down there. So finally, you would put the floppy disk in. And then, you'd run it, which meant it'd run through it and print. But then you'd have to say, now print it. And they got one printer for the whole building. And so it's pretty interesting. Whereas today, I've got a laptop that I can virtually do everything with. But we graduated from hand posted ledgers right into computers. We didn't have anything in between. All of the reports that came out, came out on--referred to as IBM runs because everything was IBM. It was on paper that's about 18 inches wide with all these little perf marks on it to feed it. And you'd get one report and it would be about that thick. It was not that much information, but it's just so much printing. It's even hard to remember after 26 years how antiquated that is compared to today. But prior to that, it wasn't even the PCs. They called everything a PC. Or, was PC compatible. Because prior to that, the only electronic data processing nickname was spaghetti wire. I'm not very conversant in it, but it was some kind of a board that had a bunch of holes in it. They put wires in it and that went to certain things. But all it did was sort things. It didn't actually calculate them.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you a little bit more about the community of Richland. What was that like in the 1950s? I know it was a government--
Bush: In the town? I guess I didn't cover that area. Everything—all houses were owned by government. We rented them. My wife and I and family, we came after the days of free everything. When the coal was free--all the furnaces were coal fed. Some people would convert them later on to oil. But anyhow, they were coal burning. However you got the coal, whether it was government days or you bought the coal from the courtyard, which is down at the end of what's now Wellsian Way. There was a coal yard where that lumber yard is. And that's why those railroad tracks that are abandoned and rundown, that's where the coal cars came in. And I can add something a little bit later about coal cars and the plant. But anyhow, we rented from the government. For example, that brand new apartment that I mentioned moving onto first was a two-bedroom, full basement. Steam heated because--I'll digress a little bit. All the downtown 700 Area, including the Catholic church, central church, the hospital, all 700 Area, including those new apartments, and all downtown shopping area were steam heated by a steam plant, which was located where the back door of the post office is today in that small parking lot. And that one plant furnished steam for everything. Well, back to this new apartment. The steam pipes ran through this full basement. And our kids played—there wasn't any yards. There was just apartments. And they would play in the basement because they were quite small. But they can remember today the pop, pop, pop in those steam pipes. And the rent for that two-bedroom apartment was higher than any other house in town. It was $77 a month. And the reason it was $77 instead of $70 was because it included $7 for electricity. Nobody had electricity meters yet. Even in that new place. So when they did put in electricity meters in all homes later, which had to be—during that time, the year we were there, which is December '51 to December of '52, sometime in that period of time they put the meters in. They took off $7 off the rent because now we're going to pay—and their theory is it was $5 for a one-bedroom place, whatever it was. $7 for a two-bedroom and $10 for a three-bedroom for electricity in those days. And nobody had electric heat, of course. And then, later on they put in water meters. And again, they had to come into your home, invade your home, and put in something. So it was strictly government prior to—well, another—and when I lived in the rental, if something went wrong with the plumbing, they would send out a plumber, but you paid for it, though. But later on when I went to the tall two-story, three-bedroom duplex houses, or called A houses, that was our first house after that apartment. And as I remember, I think the rent was--they had rent districts with low, medium, and high in the more desirable parts of town. And we were on Hop Street across from uptown district where Hunt Street is and Jefferson Park. And I think our rent for that was like $47 because it was not a brand new apartment. And later on, we—I was on the housing list. And you applied and months or years later, you'd rotate up to move into a nicer place or a different location. But in the meantime, up came an F house, which is a two-story single family, kind of a Cape Cod-looking type of house. And that came up on the housing list. However, the caveat was that you had to cash out the present owner who had made some improvements. He had converted the coal to oil, they put in a clothesline, which nobody had clotheslines, and something else. So cashed him out for—I believe it was $750. And if I do that, I could have it, so I did. We lived in that place for 19 years. Our daughter grew up there and got married out of that home. And that's the only home she ever knew. [LAUGHTER] And we were there until 1977 when the real estate market in Richland was—this is community wide. The housing prices were moving 18% a year, about 1.5% a month. And I thought well, I don't need to be setting still. I mean, if I cash out here, and went on. So we sold that home. I listed it. Calder, my father, was very ill. We were going to Spokane. I listed it. A man came by, looked it out. What were you asking? I said, oh, about 17. He shook his head. And I said, too high? He says, no, 27,000. [LAUGHTER] Just to show you how bad things were. And so it sold right away. What are you going to do now? And I said, well. Would you want to try a mobile home? I know a jewel. And in those days, real estate men did not sell mobile homes. But this couple had bought their first house from him, or something. And it was somebody retiring out of postal, wanted to go back to Montana. Never smoked in it, never had any pets in it, no kids. It was the Cadillac of mobile homes. We were there two years, but that was long enough. Then we moved into the house that I'm still in. I'm widowed now for five years. The house we're in now, we've lived in that longer than in any other place. [LAUGHTER] But the community just has changed so drastically. South Richland. People say today they live in South Richland. We lived in South Richland, which was south of the downtown shopping district to the Yakima Bridge. That was South Richland. What is now South Richland out there was Kennewick Highlands. So it depends on who you're talking to today.
Bauman: Yeah. Do you remember any special community events, parades, any of those sorts of things during the '50s and '60s?
Bush: Community events?
Bauman: Yeah.
Bush: Yep. Back in GE days, they had Atomic Frontier Days. And they were a big thing. Had beauty queens in it, rode in the float, and all that. Down at the—[COUGH] excuse me. For Atomic Frontier Days down at the lower end of Lee Boulevard, which is still the same shape today. They set up booths all on there. And it was a really big event. Before we had the hydro races even. People look back fondly on that. Talking about community, again, my mother, I said, worked for the post office, which—it stood on the corner of Knight Street, where it touches George Washington Way. There's some kind of a lawyer office building there today. And the old post office is the Knights of Columbus building on the bypass highway. But she would have to take the mail and go over to where the Red Lion Motel is today, at the Desert Inn, a frame building, winged out basically the same. And that was referred to as the transient quarters. And that was for upper management that were going through and it wasn't really a public motel, per se. But she would have mail for these big wigs over there. So she would have to go over there and have a badge to even go in the front door of that Desert Inn. Talking about badges, something humorous on that. We didn't wear things around our neck in the beginning because it was like a little pocket-sized bill fold. It was a little black bill that had your pass, your badge in it. And at every building you went into, you just pulled it out, flashed it to the guard. It usually was a lady security employee. There were guards in the building, but the person on the desk was a security clerk. But you'd just automatically—you’d open it like that and flag and put it back in your pocket. Every building you went into. Downtown, 700 Area, that first building I've referred to. One day I went into a restaurant and I just did that automatically [LAUGHTER] because it's just so automatic. Then they graduated to having the thing around your neck. And then also, if you worked in the outer areas, you had to wear a radiation badge in addition to your security badge. There was two types and one of them was a flat. And I don't know the difference. One's for beta and one's for alpha. I don't know. And one of them was a pencil shaped. And that's what they called it. And the other one was a flat badge, which was carried in something around your neck. And in all the areas I worked, and the places I described laying on the ground that happened and all that, my RAMs, they call it, never accumulated in my working life to be a danger. I had some, of course. Everybody does in the background. But I never accumulated to a danger point. There were people, some smart aleck people that would take their badge and hold it over a source at work so they could get some time off. Because if you got--what was the phrase? Anyhow, if they got contaminated, they put them on a beefsteak diet. And they stayed home. And they come every day and took a urine sample and all that stuff. But they had a life of riley. So that was nice. But the guys got canned that did that. But they would purposely expose their pencil so they could stay home.
Bauman: So did all employees have those, either the pencil or--
Bush: Only those that worked in reactor and separations areas, yeah. I mentioned these departments. Actually, the first department is Fuel Preparations Department, FPD. The present—the 300 Area--most of the buildings have now been torn down that you don't even see them there. But the north half roughly was fuels preparation department headed for the reactors. They took uranium and encapsulated it in cans, like can of peas in just so many words. And the south half of that 300 Area was a laboratory area, the predecessor of Battelle. So the fuel was prepared there. And it was machined and canned and sent as nickname slugs to the reactors. Then, the reactors loaded into all those little tubes. And then from the reactors, they come out the backside into those cooling pods and all that. And transported in casks to the 200 Areas, which are the separated area, separations. And the reactor area on the face side was not that dangerous. The 200 Areas only work on what they called the canyons, PUREX and REDOX, and those kind of buildings. But those cells were very, very hot. But you had to be measured no matter where you were. One of our site services was a decontamination laundry, called the laundry. And all clothing--I mentioned to you before SWP. Well, SWP, radiologic exposure employees wore whites. Carpenters and truck drivers and all that that didn't work around reactors wore blues. And so they were sorted. And we had different billing rates for that laundry because the blues only had to be laundered and dried. Whereas the others had to be laundered, dried, and decontaminated, checked in separate washing machines. And then workers wore—in the beginning, wore World War II-style gas masks for our air supply before they invented a moon-type suit. [LAUGHTER] But they wore gas masks. And the mask would come back to this mask station, which was part of the laundry. And they took the masks, and they'd take away the cartridge. They'd put the mask in dishwasher machines, in racks. That's how they would wash them. And then they would get them a new filter and package them up. Sanitize them and package them up like medical supplies would be in. I can't think of any other unusual operation out there like that.
Bauman: I want to change gears just a little bit. President Kennedy visited the site in 1963.
Bush: Yep, 1963.
Bauman: I was wondering--
Bush: When they did that, they let all the schools out. And for the first time, non-workers were allowed to go in cars out there. It was a grand traffic jam, but it was quite a deal. And he landed his Air Force plane up at Moses Lake—at Larson airbase at Ephrata, whichever you want to call it. And then helicoptered. And of course, like it is today, there were three or four helicopters. And you don't know which one he's on and all that bit. And here, everyone is gathered out the N Reactor area, which is a dual-purpose reactor. They captured the heat from the reactor, put it through a pipe through a fence to the predecessor to Energy Northwest, which was called Whoops. This was a big deal, a dual-purpose reactor. And N stood for new reactor, really. Anyhow, he comes in and they got a low-boy trailer. They fixed up down in the shops where I worked—my office was. And then built a podium just precisely for the President with him emblem and the whole bit. So I was privy to get to see some things like that. But anyhow, that was the stage. And it was a long low-boy, so it accommodated all the senators and all the local—Sam Volpentest, the guy credited with HAMMER, those type of people. Glen Lee from the Tri-City Herald, you name it. So the helicopter comes in, blows dust over everybody. But anyhow, my wife and kids and all schools were brought out there. And I don't know how many thousand people were out there in the desert. And you could see President Kennedy. He got up on the stage. You get close enough, you could get pictures. Then, that same year in November, he got assassinated. So that was a busy year.
Bauman: Do you remember any other special events with dignitaries like that? Or other--
Bush: Well, I could go way back to World War II. I wasn't here, but I have a family connection on it. All over United States, they had war bond drives for various reasons to help. Build a ship, build an airplane. The one that happened here is not the only one. But they took so much money out of all the paycheck of Hanford workers, which included my dad as a carpenter. And the money they collected bought the B-17 Bomber, which was named Day's Pay. And that bomber—they had a bomber out here, a B-17, so that people could see it, but it wasn't the same one. On the Richland High School wall there's a mural. And that's a rendition by a famous artist of Day's Pay in formation. And so I can say that my parents contributed to that. And that's the story behind that one bomber. Every worker out there, construction or operations, they donated a day's pay.
Bauman: I wonder, what was the most challenging part of your job working at the Hanford site?
Bush: As an accounting person, my most challenging part was learning government-ese. [LAUGHTER] How to deal. And in that vein, that took a long time. But once you learn it, there is a way in the US government, period. As I'm sure there is in certain corporations. Later on, when I mentioned that I went down to the federal building for my--finally got located in that building, there was another fellow and I were old timers in accounting. And that year, they had five college grads, accounting grads come in. They hired five at one time. And they ran them by Marv and I for exposure. This is how things are done. This is how the contacts are. And our basic job was to squire these young fellows around and introduce them to certain counterparts and now DOE. Now, this is how you make appointments with them. This is what you do. This is what you never do. And likewise, with senior management. And it paid off because of those five, all four of them became managers or supervisors, and one of them became my manager within two years. Today, that same man is the comptroller at Savannah River Plant. [LAUGHTER] And so I like to feel that I contributed to them being—partially to them being successful. And so that's a reward. But probably the most difficult thing coming from a private—I worked for Colorado Mill and Elevator, which means I worked at a flour mill district office as a bookkeeper. And that's a small town deal in Twin Falls. To come to work for the government where some of your family despises you because you work for the government, but you had to fight that as well as learn how the government operates.
Bauman: You mentioned earlier, you were talking about coal being used for heat in Richland. You also said you wanted to talk about coal fires going up at the site.
Bush: Oh, what?
Bauman: Coal fires?
Bush: Oh, yeah. Interestingly, the midway power station, substation at midway, is one of the reasons they built Hanford where they did because the Grand Coulee Dam had just been completed and an electricity producer—a major producer. And they put the midway substation down there. That basically was built to furnish huge amounts of power to Hanford, for the reactors, everything. Which in total—because I processed vouchers, I know it was 32 megs. Which today doesn't sound like much, but the whole plant bill was 32 megs when everything was operating. But if the power were interrupted, they had to have a backup. So every area had a huge diesel-powered--like water pumps, where they could pump the water from the river instead of by electrically. They had to be able to pump it because it was critical. Because all the water for the whole plant was taken in at intake water plants near the reactors along the river. The 200 Area water is piped to them in a huge line as raw water until it gets to their place. The backup is these coal-fired steam plants, is what I was trying to say. It got about 30-some cars of coal a day rolled through Richland past the cemetery. In the beginning, the railroad came down from the north, from Vantage area down along the Columbia River. There's a railroad bridge across the river, Beverly I think it is. And it came down to below the 100-B Reactor area. That's where the line ended. And then a plant had its own railway incidentally. It had a 285 mile-long rail line, high line and low line. Then, they built--in 1950, the year before I came, they built the line that we see today that comes from Columbia Center into Richland, by the cemetery. And it ends at the old bus lot area, where that railroad car Columbia Center into Richland, by the cemetery. And it ends at the old bus lot area, where that railroad car rebuilding outfit is now, there is a roundhouse that it's rectangular in shape. But some 30 cars of coal a day came in here to supply because those plants were—they actually operated the steam plants. They didn't start them up from cold. They just ran constantly.
Bauman: I wonder if you could provide sort of an overall assessment of how Hanford was as a place to work. What was it like as a place to work?
Bush: It was a great place for me. I came out of an area that was the agriculturally-oriented. And the Korean War started. Wages were frozen, you weren't going to go anywhere. I came up here and I got a new start, like pioneers did. I visualized that's what farming pioneers did the same thing. And it opened up a whole field for me, a big corporate field. And it's just been a great place to work. And it was not dangerous to me. I'm not afraid to drink the water here. I'm asked by a nephew in Hermiston constantly, how do you drink the water? And I said, well, it comes out of the river. How can it come out of the river and that plume’s out there? There's so many false stories around here. But working at Hanford, I think, by and large, almost all employees would tell you the same thing. It was a great place to work. The pay was decent. Maybe you didn't get rich, but it was decent. It's in a nice area to live in. When we came back in the '50s, or in the '40s, and before that even of course, shopping was pretty much nonexistent. They went to Yakima, or Spokane, or Walla Walla. That I didn’t—we didn't experience that too much by 1951 because by that time, the Uptown shopping district was built. And there was a men's store. And there was four women's stores. Because GE was the prime contractor, there was an appliance dealer that handled GE-Hotpoint appliances. We got employee discounts when we worked for GE. We also got 10% gasoline discount when we worked for Atlantic Richfield Hanford. But we just grew with the times. And it's just such an entirely different area now than it was. Just the world is different, too.
Bauman: Is there anything that I haven't asked you about? Is there anything you would like to talk about that we haven't talked about yet?
Bush: Now really, work-wise at Hanford, I think I’ve pretty well-covered it. I'll repeat myself. My first 15 years was construction engineering accounting, which is an entirely different field than operations accounting. Operations accounting concerns itself with the reactors and separations and the site services that support them. But I learned a lot by working at Hanford. My family, three adult children live here, are retired here. My oldest son went on Medicare this year. [LAUGHTER] And that kind of puts you in your place quickly. But it's been a good enough place that they stayed in the area. And of the six granddaughters, grandchildren, four of them are in the area. And that's kind of characteristic with a lot of the Tri-City families. They stay or come back.
Bauman: Well, Bob, I'd like to thank you very much for coming and talking to us today. I really appreciate it.
Bush: It's been my pleasure.
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.
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 | 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 | Finley_Catherine
Robert Bauman: You ready? Ready to get started?
Catherine Finley: I guess.
Bauman: Okay. My name is Robert Bauman, and I'm conducting an oral history interview with Catherine Borden Finley. And today is July 9, 2013. And the interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And I will be talking with Catherine Finley about her family's history and about her memories and experiences growing up in White Bluffs. And so maybe we should start. I'll ask you about your family, if you could tell me how and why or when your family came to the area, the White Bluffs area.
Finley: My father, Archie Borden, was born in White Bluffs. And his mother and his father, George Borden, come down from Priest Rapids some way. His father was a government surveyor. And he come down the river and settled in White Bluffs. And Grandma Pete came from Ellensburg. Her grandma [INAUDIBLE]. And they married, and they had the three sons. George Borden made a living by running horses between the river and Gable Mountain, and the army bought them. So let's see. And he drowned in the river when my dad was eight years old in 1906.
Bauman: And--
Finley: Pardon?
Bauman: He operated the ferry at White Bluffs?
Finley: Yes.
Bauman: In addition to running the horses.
Finley: George Borden also owned the ferry, and he had land. He was quite successful for that time. And my mother, she come from South Dakota. And I don't know why they made it up in White Bluffs. But they were married in 1927.
Bauman: And what was your mother's family's name?
Finley: Shanahan. And they had the seven children. And the oldest one just passed away last year. So there's still six of us left. And one of dad's brothers had three children. And we had lots of cousins and not too close together. It was quite sparsely settled, because of the orchards and pastures and things like that. We lived about two miles north of White Bluffs. And we just grew up. We had all sorts of things to do. We had all the animals for pets.
Bauman: What kind of animals did you have?
Finley: Oh, we had horses and cows and sheep and dogs and cats and lots of little banty chickens, which we packed every place. The sheep my dad kept on Locke’s Island and brought them over in the winter so they would lamb on the mainland. The cattle, the cows, stayed on the home place. We rode the cows. [LAUGHTER] I don't know if Dad ever knew that, but we did. [LAUGHTER] And now we also had horses that we rode. And that was not the main entertainment that we had or what kids do, but we spent many hours on the horses and playing with the other animals. And the neighbor kids migrated even though it was like a mile or more to the place, and we had the cousins to play with. And we played with the Indian children when they'd come in twice a year to fish, Johnny and his--I don't know how many. I think there was four or five men in the crew and their wives. And they were great playmates, those Indian boys were.
Bauman: What time of year would that have been?
Finley: They'd come in the spring for the spring salmon run. And they’d come back in the fall for the fall salmon run. And they dried their fish on long racks on the river, on the bar. And their horses were then turned loose on the bar with everybody else's. So we had a lot of fun with them. I think they're gone now.
Bauman: And about how long would they stay in the area during the spring?
Finley: They were there probably like a month, maybe a little longer, whenever the salmon run was that year. And they always had racks and racks of salmon. So it must have been very good fishing. And they fished at night. They had their canoes that they stored in dugout cellars and little wire pots. And they put hot coals in them or burned something, and anyway put them over the canoe, and the fish would come to the light. And they'd dip them. And then they'd bring them all in in the morning, and then the women proceeded to process them. [LAUGHTER] But it was interesting and a lot of fun. And we learned a lot from them. And Johnny was very, very interesting. He was the chief of the--they were Wanapum Indians. And then at the end of the season, then they would go either--sometimes they went on to the Yakima. Apparently they caught another type of fish there, down here at the Horn's Rapid Dam. Otherwise, they went back up to Priest Rapids and lived in their teepees until the dam was built. And they still lived in their teepees. They parked the car in the living room at the house that was built. And as I say, it was very interesting. And then when they closed it all, they went to the Yakima Reservation, or to Toppenish. But we played with--there was many different nationalities of children there, and we not only went to school with them, they were always welcome at home. And we were just as welcome in their home.
Bauman: Do you remember any of the neighbor families or children?
Finley: Oh, yeah, there was Johnson. They didn't have any children. They had a nice dairy. And Killians was a German family. Supplee was a German family. Walkers was a French family. I don't remember what the Goodners were. But they were all very successful in fruit. My dad didn't have any fruit, but he traded sheep for fruit, bartered. And we were very fortunate all during the Depression that that's what happened. So we were never hungry. We didn’t really know--I imagine the folks knew what the Depression was. Us kids didn't. We never had bought toys that I remember. My dad would carve things out of wood, out of mostly bark that come down the river, I don’t know, boats and mangers and whatever happened to be handy. But we could always go down on the bar with him--we never were allowed to go to the river by ourselves--and pick up odd driftwood. And we made animals out of them for some reason and rocks. Rocks made wonderful trucks and cars and just any old thing—corrals to keep all these stick animals in. And we went to school in a four-room schoolhouse. It was a large white building, divided in four rooms. And that was about a little over a mile from where we lived. So in the spring and in the fall when it was still warm, we walked to school. And Mr. Anderson, the school bus driver, would pick us up during the winter when it was cold. And he was a father of Harry Anderson that was quite active in the White Bluffs picnic when it was here.
Bauman: Do you remember any of your teachers from the school?
Finley: Yes, Mrs. Moody. Mrs. Moody, I remember her well. She taught kindergarten, first grade, second grade, third grade, and sometimes fourth grade, depending on how many children were present. And then my second teacher I had there was a Ms. Smit. And she taught the fourth, depending on who had the most room in the classroom, and fifth and sixth. And the seventh and eighth graders got to go upstairs. They were special. They were really big folks. But then when the government come in, the last year they held school we went for six days a week so we could get the time in because the letters come in early spring, like in February, and not knowing when they would close or however they were going to work it, so we were out of school the first part of May.
Bauman: So you went an extra day to make up for the--
Finley: Yeah, to make up for the school days that we wouldn't be able to go to school.
Bauman: So how old were you at the time, then?
Finley: I was in the--hm, gotta think. Fifth grade when they closed the school. I was a year older because I liked one grade real well. And the sixth grade I spent in Hanford. And then the folks moved and we went to Benton City. But it was fun. It was interesting, like I said. Sometimes I kind of feel sorry for kids that have so much that they didn't have to work for. They weren’t, you know, not denied--but we didn't know we were being denied anything. We didn't know we were supposed to be poor. [LAUGHTER] Or that he didn't have a car. Dad had a car, but he never used it. He rode one of the horses into work. It was just easier, and he could sleep coming home because the horse would come home.
Bauman: Did you place have electricity at all?
Finley: Oh, yes, we had electricity. We had indoor plumbing, until the government moved in and they cut it all off. I mean the plumbing and the water, stopped all the wells and brought our water out to us in 250-gallon wooden barrels every day. In the summer they'd put ice in them so it would be cold. Winter, they'd chip the ice off. Oh, and put us up a nice, new toilet. We really thought that was--an outside toilet with a moon and a star. Now, why that impressed kids, I don't know. But it did.
Bauman: What about a telephone? Did you have a telephone?
Finley: Oh, yeah, we had phones. My grandfather, Grandpa Shanahan, Mama's father, worked for the telephone company, Wilkerson and Brown out of Kennewick, had the telephone company. And then of course, when the government come in, the government had it. My dad was a refrigeration engineer. He made ice for the railroad. And in the summer, they would bring their fruit cars down, and he would pack each end of the car with ice. And they put all their produce and food in the center. And as long as it was moving, there were fans moving in it, and it kept it cold. And that railroad went back to Othello, and the Milwaukee line picked them up.
Bauman: Okay.
Finley: But we got to go on the train. We got to ride in the caboose. If we wanted to go to Seattle, we rode in the caboose. And the brakie took care of us, no trouble at all. Mom would just put us on the train, and by that time, my grandparents had moved to Seattle. And he'd go down to King's Station and take us off, and then put us back on when our visit was over, and we'd come back.
Bauman: Did you get to do that very often?
Finley: We done it probably twice a year. Sometimes we stayed longer. Sometimes it was just a short time.
Bauman: Now, how big was your property?
Finley: I really don't know. We didn't have a large place. The most I think, other than orchard, I think most of the land was kind of leased, because the island, he owned. And the government bought that. But I don't know how much land they had on the mainland. It seemed like an awful lot once in a while.
Bauman: And so in addition to the house that was on your property, were there other buildings on the property as well?
Finley: On the last house we lived in, yes, there was a barn, and there was this two-story house. And there was a large barn and the chicken coop and whatever buildings that would be on a farm. On the other one, there was a barn and a chicken coop. And they called them soldier tracks at that time because they were built for the men coming back from World War I. And there was a house and a barn a chicken coop and a nice, new toilet. That always seemed to be very important. And, well, it wasn't occupied then. Some other person could lease it for the land. I don't know how many acres were in even those places. But in one of Dad's places, it was up, and then there was a flat, and then it dropped on down to the river, to the river bar. And there was a lot of land in that place, as I remember. It looked like a lot of land to a kid.
Bauman: Now again, how many siblings did you have, how many brothers and sisters?
Finley: Seven. I have one brother, and I had five sisters.
Bauman: And were you all born in White Bluffs?
Finley: Mm-hm. Teresa was the last one. She was born in '43, I think.
Bauman: Okay. So we talked about the school. I was wondering about other community events or celebrations.
Finley: Oh, they had the grange hall down in Old Town, which is where the ferry landed. That was where any big gathering was held. It was a bigger building. And we had a theater that run movies. Mr. Anderson, the school bus driver, he also run the theater. And I think he brought a show in probably like once a month for kids and adults. And there was a lot of little school plays. And the high school, there was always the high school. And there was always the ball games. So there was there was a lot to do, as I remember.
Bauman: You mentioned that your father wouldn't let you go down to the river without him there, is that--?
Finley: An adult had to be with us.
Bauman: Did you ever go swimming in the river?
Finley: Oh, yeah. We swam in the river. And he went back and forth across river all the time. He had a boat, and the river was part of living. But Mom always made sure that we didn't go down by ourselves.
In the summertime when the water come up, it come up clear up almost over the whole bar. And it was very swift, because it went through, cut off like an island. There Barrett's Island. And the water flowed through that in the main island, and it was swift. And the river was quite narrow then, because there was no dams on it. And I think Dad always said it went at 12 miles an hour. And there were whirlpools that his dad drowned in, was a whirlpool. And so we were well watched. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Sure.
Finley: And we played with the cows. Like I said, we had the cows we rode.
Bauman: You mentioned taking the train to Seattle.
Finley: Mm-hm.
Bauman: Did you go to any of the other communities, Pasco or to [INAUDIBLE]?
Finley: They would go to Yakima. And that's where I was born, and then they took me to White Bluffs. And I don't know why they went to Yakima, because that was about 60. And Pasco must have had the hospital by then. But they didn't have a bridge across it. So they had to ferry there. And I don't know why they didn't. Probably because Benton County wasn't a county at that time. There was a Yakima County, but no Benton County. And that's where they went, and Pasco. And we went to Walla Walla and Prosser, of course. Then by the time I was born, that was a county, so then all the business had to be tended there.
Bauman: We talked a little bit about when the government came in 1943 and the impact it had on the school and the school days, an extra day. I was wondering what memories you have of that. What response did your parents have to being told that they had to leave?
Finley: It was very hard for my dad. Because he had lived there his life. And I think one thing that was bad, they just come in and took the property and said, the next letter, you have 10 days to leave. And nobody knew when that 10 days was there. Some of them got their letters very early. My mom and dad didn't get theirs until they closed the plant. Nobody could go into it. But the fruit farmers had to leave their crops on their trees. And that was very hard on them, and no future, no money, cash in hand, like that they could go out and buy another place. And most of them had just been farmers, so they were spread all over. I mean, they moved wherever they could get a place to live. And it was hard on them. My dad sold sheep and sold most of the cattle, kept a couple of the horses. And he moved to Benton City in '44, I think, we moved there finally. But he worked there. He kept his job there as making ice.
Bauman: Okay.
Finley: Though the train didn't use it for that purpose or transporting food. DuPont used it for the summer months. They had huge, large holes in the ground. They just dug down in rock and covered it with sawdust, put sawdust in it. And you covered it with plastic and put ice in it, and then covered it again. And then in the summer when the plant couldn't produce enough ice for their needs, they dug that up or uncovered it and took it out, it was just like when they put it in there. We watched him do that, going back and forth to Hanford on the bus. Because the bus ran parallel of where they were building this vast hole in the ground. And that was very interesting. Because no kid could understand what they were doing. And at the same part, they were building F area. So we watched that, what you could see of it. You never knew if you were going to get home at night on the school bus for fear they’d dug a trench across the road.
Bauman: You actually stayed there. You were there for several months after they started constructing--
Finley: Yes, oh, yeah, we were there probably a year and a half after--no, we were there longer than that after we got the letter. Like I said, we were the very last ones out there. We left and the gate was--the civilians couldn't go back in then, just the workmen. They had taken out all of Camp Hanford. And all of the construction work was done, or finishing work on the plants that they had started to build. After we left, they built some more. They put H in right down where we lived, tore down everything. They tore down—they put bulldozers through most of the buildings out there, probably to prevent coyotes and rats and whatever else from occupying them.
Bauman: Do you remember what you were told about what was being done out there?
Finley: As I remember the letter, it just said that on such-and-such a day, your land was taken by the government. And no, nobody knew what was going on. And that caused a lot of hard feelings, because they had their share of boys that went to the service. And they weren't allowed back in to see their parents who were working there. Like the Gilhulys, they had the garage. They run the garage. And all of the town people that had businesses, if they had a boy, the boy couldn't come back, which made a lot of hard feelings. And there again, as I said, they took everything, or changed all the housing. They put many families in--they would put two families to a home if there was enough room for two bedrooms, because there was no housing for all of these thousands of people coming in. And we didn't have to share our house, but any house that had been vacated, that's how they utilized them and took down the outbuildings of any barns or sheds or things like that. They were very nice people, the ones that come in. We got to know a lot of them, being kids. It was DuPont that come and took our house. We weren't happy about that.
Bauman: The families that you got to know who came, were they from all over the place?
Finley: Oh, yeah, one family was from Alabama. One was from Louisiana. One was from Boston. And I can remember us kids talking and laughing. We'd laugh at them, because they talked different from us. And we talked different from them to them, too. [LAUGHTER] But they were all nice people.
Bauman: And you mentioned that your father owned the island?
Finley: Yes, mm-hm.
Bauman: And he sold that?
Finley: The government bought that.
Bauman: The government bought it from him. Do you know how much money he received for that?
Finley: No, it wasn’t--I don't know how much they got. First they leased it, and when they knew that it was going to be--I guess; I don't have any other reason--a longer span of time, they bought the island and turned it over to, I think, Fish and Wildlife habitat. It's still there. He was very proud of that island because there was a large Indian cemetery on it. And he guarded that with his life to keep it from being dug. And several times during the night, he'd go. If he saw a bonfire over there, he'd go down to the river and row across it and get them off the island. And also, so they wouldn't set it afire. But he guarded that cemetery with his eye teeth.
Bauman: I just want to go back to the community itself a little bit again. You talked a little bit about the grange, was it?
Finley: The grange, mm-hm.
Bauman: And school. Were there churches that were nearby?
Finley: Oh, yes. There was a Methodist church and a Presbyterian church, a Catholic church. But there was many different religions. There was Seventh Day Adventists. In 1937 I believe it was--I'm not sure about the dates, they brought--and I don't even know how many. I think there was something like 13 families of Mormons in, which was kind of sad. Because they brought them in in August, and they had no time to put wood in or gather wood or canned--only what they could bring. And it was a very long, cold winter. And they did suffer. I mean, us kids thought, oh, they must have been poor. [LAUGHTER] Because they didn't have wood. I can remember my dad going and getting a couple of the men, and we had a flume in the river, which in high water caught all the logs and everything coming down the river. And he took them down there and told him to get what wood they needed to keep from freezing. And that winter, as I said, was very, very cold. And it was a very long winter. It was just kind of unfortunate.
Bauman: Were those families able to stay on?
Finley: Oh, yeah. They, come the next spring, they planted their gardens like everybody else did and went to work for one of the fruit farmers. And most of them didn't leave until the government come in. They were very nice people.
Bauman: The town itself, I was going to ask you, are there any--you mentioned there was a theater. Were there any businesses that you remember at the time?
Finley: Oh, yeah, on one side of the street there was a barber shop and drugstore and a grocery store. And the hotel burned down. I don't know when, but in the '30s, it burned. And then there was a bank and a tavern and a little park where they had the bands and things and a post office and a tavern. They had all the good things in life. A couple of gas stations, the train depot and a creamery, or where everybody took their cream in for the Twin City Creamery to come out and get. They picked it up. And I'm trying to think what else they had--and the coal storage. The coal storage I think was the largest building there. Well, the concrete part’s still standing. They didn't take down, but all around this--or on two sides if it, because one side was next to the railroad, there was packing sheds for fruit. And Dad just filled up huge canyons with ice to ship the fruit. There was a lumber yard there. Really, it was quite complete. And Hanford was also quite complete. They each had a ferry to get back and forth across the ferry. And then there was another ferry up the river, the Wahluke Ferry, which- I'm trying to think of where their end was. I think the Wahluke ended at Burke's Corners, up above the road. And it went to Ephrata. The White Bluffs Ferry went to Othello, the road. And the Hanford Ferry went out what is now the blocks. You could get to Ringgold and all in that area. And there was a road up down the other side of the river. It went from Uncle Matt's place, you could go up to Ringgold.
Bauman: I think you mentioned earlier something about a baseball team, sports, I’m wondering about, for the schools.
Finley: We had baseball teams. They had I think mainly basketball. I don't remember football. But there again, I wouldn't have been interested in that. But they always had music. They had bands. All three of the towns had bands. And yeah, because somebody told me they went to White Bluffs to play baseball one time. So they must have had a team. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: When you mentioned that when your family did leave, you moved to Benton City?
Finley: Yes.
Bauman: And did your father have sheep and cattle there again?
Finley: No, we had a milk cow for a long time, and then we finally give that up. But we kept the horses. We always had horses. All us kids rode. He did, too. He was a really good horseman. But these weren't-- mostly just us kids' horses. And he just rented pasture for those. We didn't have any land for a long time. We had a building in town and a house, but we didn't have any land. Eventually, he did buy land. And part of the kids still live there. Three of my sisters still live there.
Bauman: So you all grew up, spent the rest of your years [INAUDIBLE].
Finley: Yes, we all stayed together. I'm trying think. I think Veronica is the furthest one away, and she is in Goldendale, so she didn't get too far. One lives in Pendleton. My brother went to--was it Korea or Vietnam? Must have been Korea. That was in the '50s, yeah. And when he come back, he spent his time on different islands. Thank God he didn't--he joined the Navy, and he became a mechanic, an air mechanic. And they put him on the islands. He come back, went to school, went to college, got his degree in education and went back to the South Seas and taught there until he retired. And he's just younger than I am. He bought land and built himself a house up at Chesaw when he come back, which is up by Oroville, I think, and happy as a lark.
Bauman: I was wondering what you think would be important for people to know about what it was like growing up in White Bluffs? What sort of a place it was.
Finley: It was warm. It was a very warm community. The people were your friends. And they helped each other. If somebody needed something, somebody would either share or give or provide for them. And they didn't do it for--just because family needed it at that time. Or if one was sick, somebody was always available to take them to the hospital, which was either Pasco or Yakima. And I think it was just-- and to be happy. The people were happy. There weren't--not too many grouchy ones that I can remember. And to do with what you have. Don't want something more if you can't afford it, I guess, in this day and age. Just be happy with what you have, and work for something better.
Bauman: There's one question I meant to ask you earlier that I'll ask you now, and that is the weather in the area. I know we get high winds and dust storms.
Finley: Yes, there was high—
Bauman: What about growing up? Did that impact your community at all?
Finley: No. The ground wasn't tore up like it is now. So we didn't have the massive--I don't remember the dust storms, let me put it that way. We did have wind. And it was very cold in the winter and very hot in the summer. I mean, it was 120 and nobody thought anything about it. Very few shade trees. So it was hot, but you could always got get a pan of water. Mom used to--the wash tubs that they had then, she'd fill one every day and put it outside and us kids played in it. And I guess we were just used to it, because it didn't seem to bother us. And cold, as I said, the school bus took us to school in the winter because it was cold, and it was a mile or a little more to school. And there was no shelter, no nothing. You just were walking on sand. That's mostly what's out there.
Bauman: Yeah. Do you remember the river ever freezing over at all?
Finley: I don't. I don't remember it freezing. My dad would tell about the river freezing, and that's how they brought their sheep down. They kept them on--I don't know why they took them to the mountains, either, but they took them to pasture in the summer and then wait for the water to freeze to bring them over. And they lambed and sheared before the thaw so they could get them back across the river. Otherwise they had to ferry them or drag them clear down and put them across the bridge that they had then built between Pasco and Kennewick. And that was quite dangerous, he said, because they could only run so many sheep at a time. And it took a long time to put a band of sheep across. I can remember being--we had a cow that got down the outside one time, and she froze, instead of getting in the barn where she belonged. She was a young heifer, and she just didn't know, I guess. But people prepared for it. They knew it was going to be cold. It got cold early in the year. And it stayed that way until March or April. Now, the river didn't stay froze that long. It was just cold. But it wasn't cold enough to keep that river frozen. But they took the horse and everything else across it. I mean, he remembers it. But I remember the freezing out quite far from the bank, but not freezing across where they could put animals on it.
Bauman: Right. Is there anything I haven't asked you about or any family stories or special memories that stand out that--
Finley: [LAUGHTER] What kids do for entertainment?
Bauman: Sure. [LAUGHTER]
Finley: Yeah. [LAUGHTER] We had this real nice family down the road a ways, and they had a mule. That was one of those poor Mormons that didn't know what they were getting into. And they had two boys. And Delores and I decided one day that we would put the mule harness on a horse. We did not know that there was the difference in them. There is. So we took Dolly, the horse, and took her up on the little knoll and hooked her to this wagon. I don't know where us kids got the wagon. Somebody gave it to us. And hooked the horse. We didn't know you were supposed to have shafts or something on this to stop this wagon. Well, she went to barn with this wagon bumping her all the time in the back end. And Dad came out and was quite upset because we had knocked the door off the barn. So we went in. We took Dolly, took her back out to the pasture. And we thought, well, now we've done that, and that was because it was too steep. That hill was too steep. So Mom and Dad had to go to Yakima. And us kids stayed at home, because there was nothing, nobody there to harm us. You know? [LAUGHTER] And we left Randall, my brother. We took this cow, Dolly, and put this mule harness on her. I don't know how. [LAUGHTER] And took her up about a quarter of a mile from the place through an old cut down apple orchard. And when we waved our hands and dropped them down, Randall was supposed to sic the dog on the calf in the barn. Well, Delores didn't make it to the wagon. She put me in first, and that cow went home. When we got home, the wagon did not survive it. And Dad couldn't figure out what was wrong with old Dolly that night. She was so touchy when he went to milk her. [LAUGHTER] We didn't try that again. But there was always two of us, so if one got in trouble, we could share it. One time we took the sheep who were over still on the mainland. And he had a nasty, nasty buck, but he produced good lambs. And there again, we were warned, you don't get in that corral with that buck. Because he actually could have killed a kid, I imagine, if he’d, you know. And Delores and I figured and figured if we got two ropes on him, we could tie him to two different posts in the corral. And then we could ride him. This is a big sucker, nice long wool and everything he had. And we did. Well, finally we wore—anyway, we rode that poor, old buck ‘til he just laid down. And Dad couldn't figure out what was--his name was George-- couldn't figure out what was wrong with George that night, because he just didn't want to eat anything. We never told him until we were grown--and I guess we were both married by that time—what happened to George.
Bauman: Figured it was safe to tell him then.
Finley: He just looked at us and he said, well, that's probably only one of the things you done that I didn't know about, sweetheart. [LAUGHTER] But we created our own fun. And to us, it was not mean or cruel or mischievous, because we knew the cow wouldn't die. She was too ornery. And we finally broke Dolly to ride with a saddle, so that was a little safer, too. We just had fun and grew up. And I don't know what else we done. Spent 13, 14 years there. I must have done something more. We worked hard in the summer. I remember that. Because Mom had to can. She canned the fruit. If somebody butchered--it always surprised me that if somebody in the community butchered, and they had too much meat, then it was spread out. Because there was no way of keeping it. And neighbors got along well that way.
Bauman: So what sorts of work or chores did you do as a young child growing up? What sorts of things did you help out with?
Finley: Oh heck, I could cook a meal by the time I was in the third grade. I learned to make bread, canned. We all canned. That was a whole family project. It wasn't just one person there, because it all had to be done on a cook stove. And somebody had to bring in wood and peel fruit. It had to be continuous. And what else? I remember Mama canning meat one time--twice. And that had to be cooked for six hours. Because it was just a water bath. They didn't have pressure. Later on, I guess, there was pressure cookers. But that's how they cooked it, put it in a wash boiler. And I think it held 12 quarts, the wash boiler did. And they cooked it all day, all day long. And that stove had to be kept burning. So on that day also, if you were canning, you also made bread. Because the oven was hot. And it was busy. It was a busy time. And then in spring, they had to take care of the stock. And the fruit was a little bit earlier than what it is here. It was just like a week earlier. Of course, it ended a week earlier, too. But there was always tomatoes and Mom put up an awful lot of tomatoes and peaches. I can remember that.
Bauman: So you grew a lot of your own--
Finley: Grandma Pete, my dad's mother, was a peach farmer. So they always had peaches. And she also grew a very large garden. Or they would go down to Ringgold and there was the Japanese family there that had a truck farm. You could always get your tomatoes there in quantity.
Bauman: Do you remember what their name was?
Finley: The name of the--
Bauman: Japanese family?
Finley: No, I have no idea. We just went down there and they were wonderful gardeners. They had everything up off the ground. They planted the plants and then they put chicken wire mesh panels over it so that the tomato plant grew up through the mesh and all the tomatoes then were on the wire. They were never on the ground. I always thought that was amazing. And they had corn. They had all vegetables. I just remember the folks buying the cantaloupe and the tomatoes. But they had-- I imagine it was a good sized truck farm. It was to me then. But I don't actually how big it was. And there was always apples. And apricot trees grow wild almost, so there was always plenty of apricots and apples. There was somebody had apple trees that they couldn't use them up. And they just simply shared. They had too much, they shared. It really kind of spoiled people for today. There's a lot I can't understand about today, why people don't get along better. [LAUGHTER] But I'm trying to think what else us kids would do. We played on a pile of gravel. That was our mountain. White Bluffs was very flat. Because the bluffs surrounded the whole river. The river is on our side, but you know. And unless you went to Yakima, there's a very small opening between Rattlesnake and the Bluffs in reality, just enough for the river to flow through. It was quite flat and hot. So you could do most anything. You could swim in the irrigation ditch.
Bauman: Where was the pile of gravel that you--
Finley: What?
Bauman: Where was the pile of gravel that you played on?
Finley: Oh, the pile of gravel? Well, I guess they were going to gravel the road. They never got it done because they just piled this big pile of gravel there across the road from us. Well, for a long time, there was a sign on it. I don't know what the sign said. But there was one on it. [LAUGHTER] But it was sloped on one side, and then you could jump off the steep side, see. Boy, oh boy, we'd run up and jump off and run up and jump off. Daddy come out and says, now you know, Joe's going to get after you for that. Well, Joe didn't see us, so I guess we thought we were safe. It's still out there today, but it isn't near as large as I thought it was. I've been out a couple of times while I worked there in the '50s. I worked out there and drove that same circuit.
Bauman: What part of the site did you work at, what did you--?
Finley: I worked out of 300. I delivered instruments to the areas. So I had to go to each area every day. And I've been there since then also, and the roads are still there if you know where you're going. You can get around pretty good. Now, they're not in top--some of them are still paved.
Bauman: So how long did you work there, then?
Finley: I worked out there two years. And then we had a family, and I didn't go back to work.
Bauman: When is the last time you were out there?
Finley: Oh, let's see. The White Bluffs picnic--I don't quite remember when it stopped. But every year, you could go out there if you went to the picnic. You could drive out there on one afternoon. I think it was Saturday afternoon. And you could go through town. You went through town, and down to the old ferry landing, down to Old Town. And then in later years, if you could, you could go to where your home was. If the roads were there. And I drove out a couple of times to where we lived, because we lived on the river. And the last time I went out, there was this fence and big concrete building there. I knew that's probably the last time I'd see the homestead. They had to build H. But that's all right. It was a good place to live, good place to grow up in. And you learned a lot of things that you didn't know you learned.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you very much for being willing to come here and share your stories and your memories.
Finley: They've really been terrific. I will try and get some pictures. Can I just call the number on the letter and just bring them in?
Bauman: Absolutely, yeah, sure.
Finley: Because we have them. I just don't know where in the world I've put them. We even have one of Johnny and Daddy, Johnny Buck, the Indian, the chief. He was quite old then. But he would take his kids and tell us in Indian--my dad could speak Indian, or that dialect of Indian. And he'd talk to us in Indian. We never bothered to learn. Isn't that sad?
Bauman: Did your dad know that dialect from having spent a lot of time with them?
Finley: Yes, he grew up there. Johnny, as a young man, worked for his father, George, and the horses. And I don't know, but then after George died, he still come and fished, his tribe. And Dad just grew up with him. They were always part of the neighborhood. You knew they were coming when the fish started to run. And then you watched for them. They had beautiful horses, or I thought, Delores and I thought. The other thing, he had a friend. He was in Yakima. He lived in Yakima. And he would come down. And him and Daddy would visit. And us kids would listen to the stories. And one day, he turned his hands over, and they were white. And I never realized that the man was black. We had no--there was no difference in people. This man was the tallest, blackest Negro. I've seen some from Africa lately that are more recent, but he was a delightful--he was an apple grower, had a large apple orchard in Yakima. And had he not turned those hands over, I, to this day, would have swore he was just like us. And I think that is one that is very important for kids, that there is no difference in people. They're all--the Indians looked the same to me. I don't remember what this man's name was, because he did. Or my mother's parents that were strict Irish. They looked the same. There was no--we even had a Filipino family in there. He was good. He raised raspberries. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: In White Bluffs?
Finley: Yeah, in White Bluffs, yeah. He raised berries.
Bauman: Do you happen to remember his name at all?
Finley: His name was George--I can't remember his last name. He moved to Benton City. And they still bought berries from him.
Bauman: He moved to Benton City after 1943, after the government--
Finley: Yeah, mm-hm. I remember a lot of people. I mean, Mrs. Barrett, her husband was one of the first railroad men out. He worked for the Union Pacific. And they lived at Wahluke at the time of the Walla Walla massacre. And she'd tell a story. I had a lot of opportunity to learn. And she was a sweet lady. She raised three boys and a daughter. I never remember her husband, but I remember her very, very well. And Russos was another--I don't know what nationality they were, but they all seemed to have something to do with fruit. And there was just a great, big mixture of all types of people and all getting along very, very well.
Bauman: Well, thank you again. I really appreciate you coming in today to share your stories and memories. Thanks very much.
Finley: Well, I thank you. And I hope it turns out halfway decent.
Northwest Public Television | Jackson_Pete
Woman One: Get them all fixed and I’ll submit them, and they would get paid to run.
Man one: And we're about to roll now. Okay. Whenever you are ready.
Robert Bauman: Okay. All right. I think we're ready to get started.
Pete Jackson: Okay.
Bauman: So if we could start first by just having you say your name and spell it for us.
Jackson: My name is Pete Jackson, J-A-C-K-S-O-N.
Bauman: Great. Thank you. My name is Robert Bauman. Today's date is October 30th of 2013, and we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So I wonder if we could start by having you talk about how you came here, what brought you to Hanford, and when you arrived.
Jackson: Well, I came to Hanford after living and growing up in Spokane, and serving in the Navy. I came here February 7, 1951.
Bauman: And what brought you here? Why did you—what brought you to Hanford?
Jackson: Oh, the interviews that we had had at WSU, WSC at that time.
Bauman: So you were a student at Washington State College?
Jackson: Yes.
Bauman: And what were you majoring in?
Jackson: Major was mechanical engineering.
Bauman: Okay. And so what sort of job did you have, then, once you arrived in 1951?
Jackson: Well, I didn't have a clearance. So to wait for the Q clearance took a while. And I was working in a program where they were updating the standards that they use. Down in the old 762 Building.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And standards for a what? What sort of standards were they?
Jackson: Oh, standards on how to do various and sundry tasks. I guess that'd be the best way to put it.
Bauman: Did you know much about Hanford before you came here?
Jackson: Oh, not much. You know, I grew up in Spokane, so we were familiar with Hanford. And I spent time in Japan when I was there with the Navy, and did get in and saw the destruction in Nagasaki, which was tremendous. And then after the Navy let me go, I decided to come to WSU and to take up studies.
Bauman: Mm-hm. What were your first impressions of the area, here, when you arrived?
Jackson: [LAUGHTER] Sagebrush, sand, and lots of wind. But I can't remember the facility--I think it was about 7,000 people. But it was interesting.
Bauman: What sort of housing did you have when you first arrived?
Jackson: Well, the housing was dormitory, and I lived in M2, which we called the old men's society. And later, other tech grads were in W21, which was down in the women's section of the dorms on Lee and Stevens, I think it is. Where Albertson's sits right now.
Bauman: So did you know some other people here when you arrived?
Jackson: I knew a few, yes.
Bauman: Other people from WSU?
Jackson: Yes, yes.
Bauman: And then so how long did you stay in the dorms?
Jackson: Well, they opened up the Bower Day housing on Jadwin. And I made myself unpopular with the guy who was renting these, because they wouldn't rent them to any single people. And so after months of talking to him, they finally decided, well, we'll open it up to single people. So four of us guys went into one down there on 1766 Jadwin. And we enjoyed that life much better, because we didn't have to eat out every night, and that sort of thing. We could do some of our own cooking, and see what we wanted to do, and it was good companionship. These were four engineers.
Bauman: Yeah. And how long were you in the Bower Day home, then?
Jackson: Huh. Let's see, I've got to try and remember that. Probably until about 1953. It might have been more than that. I don't recall exactly how long it was.
Bauman: And what was Richland like at the time, as a community?
Jackson: Well, it was just a little small town. There wasn't much of anything to do except work, work, work. And we did a lot of running around, going to Seattle to plays, and stuff like this. And I got into the Desert Ski Club. I was a charter member of that organization, and helped it get established. We had the dorm club, and we had another club called Racketeers. Then, let's see. I got married in 1954--no, '56, and moved into a little B house.
Bauman: And so who were the other gentlemen that you shared the Bower Day home with, do you know?
Jackson: Okay, one was Corwin Bonham, who was a friend from WSU. Let's see. There was a little Japanese fellow, and what was his name? I can't recall.
Bauman: That's all right.
Jackson: And Hal Stievers was the third one. And that's about it. Dick Asai was the Japanese fellow.
Bauman: Hmm. So you mentioned the clubs, the ski club, and--
Jackson: Yes.
Bauman: So were those sort of the primary ways of entertainment?
Jackson: Yeah, right. The dorm club was people who lived in the dorms, and we’d would get together and have dances, and parties, and out-of-town escapes, and what-have-you like that, whereas the ski club was primarily for skiing. The most local spot was Spout Springs down here. We also went to others around in the mountains, and even down as far as Sun Valley.
Bauman: So how did you and your wife meet, then?
Jackson: Well, she was also working here, and was in the dorm. So, she was a secretary.
Bauman: So you mentioned your first job when you came in 1951, before you got your clearance, was updating standards. Once you got your clearance, then, where did you go from there?
Jackson: Oh, they sent me out to a mechanical development group in what they called it that time White Bluffs. And White Bluffs was just some buildings they had thrown together. The only real building there, I think, is a high school which is still there. And we did mechanical development for the 100 Area reactors.
Bauman: So could you describe that a little bit? By mechanical development, sort of what sort of task would that include?
Jackson: Yeah, sure. Well, you know these reactors were not all that old at that time, and so we kept upgrading them with different projects of sorts to make them better, more reliable, safer. And also, one great big job was project 558, I think, was the number of it. And that was to upgrade the power level, which originally was something like 165 megawatts. And when we got through with it, some of the reactors were running over 3,000. So we upped the production substantially by that project, which includes revamping a lot of the components. We put more water through the reactors, and we took—well they have safety systems. The first safety system was horizontal rods, and we had to replace all the horizontal rods, because they went into a thimble through the graphite pile. And so in the process then, we had to take the thimble out, because otherwise they would probably melt down. And then we had to have a seal on these tubes that we put in, and instead of having a round tube, we had an oblong tube. So it would roll along, because the graphite had grown considerably, and to pass through the reactor was getting to the point where some of those rods were difficult to get through. I think there were--I think maybe nine control rods in the pile. I think that was the number. And then we replaced the thimbles that were in the second safety system, which was the vertical safety rods. And they were just a boron poison rod that would drop in from the vertical overhead. And they would just freely drop. And they also had thimbles which had to be removed. These were just an aluminum tube, vertical in the reactor core. And we made, then--because here, we had to move that in the atmosphere as the reactor would escape to the building—we had to make seals on those and I worked a lot on the seals for the vertical safety rods to seal the atmosphere in the reactor from the atmosphere in the building. And there were--I can't remember the number of those—probably some 20 or something like that. And we made seals that would seal the rod even as it fell. And then the third safety system was we built a hopper that would sit around this vertical rod, and it contained boron containing steel balls, like ball bearings. And if something went that far to where you had to drop that, the third safety system was kind of the last. We'd drop those balls into the carbon core. Which, as you can imagine, getting those out was a big chore. And we did work on that process some. C Reactor, when they built that one, they put valves on the bottom of the vertical safety rod openings, so that they could vacuum—I think it was vacuum—the darn balls out of it. They had a vacuum system to vacuum them out, and then a ball separator to catch the real hot ones. Because if—the core was built by pieces of graphite, 4 and 3/8 I think they were, square with this hole in them. And the hole would be for the process tubes. And then the holes coming in from the side were for the horizontal safety rods, and then they had holes down through for verticals, which was for the vertical rods. And the pieces of graphite had one corner cut off, I think it was. And if you dropped the balls into that graphite chamber, some of them would get back into that thing, and maybe the next time you had to vacuum them out, they would just be screaming hot radioactively. So we built a ball separator that you could run these millions of balls through and kick out the hot ones. So there was a lot of work on that one.
Bauman: Yeah, sounds like it.
Jackson: It was a real big project. They did reactor at a time through B, D, F, DR, H, and I think maybe some with C.
Bauman: Hmm. So did you work out at all those different reactors, then, during that process?
Jackson: Yeah, right. Well, yes. We worked on each individual reactor, but we had offices--well, it started out in White Bluffs, and then they built a new building in D, 1703 D. We had offices there.
Bauman: So when you were doing this work at the reactor, did you have to wear special equipment, safety equipment?
Jackson: Oh, yes. Absolutely.
Bauman: What sorts of things did you have to wear?
Jackson: Well, you took off your clothes, your outer clothes, and hang them up. Then you'd put on two pair of white coveralls. You'd put on shoe covers, probably a couple pair of them. And if there was to be anything wet, you'd put rubbers on over the top of that. Then you'd put on a hood fastened under your chin. So we were pretty well covered up, of course with gloves, too—cloth gloves if it was dry work, and rubber gloves over them if it was anything to do with wet.
Bauman: How long of a process was of that? Did that take a little while to--
Jackson: To get dressed?
Bauman: --get dressed, and undressed then when you were done?
Jackson: Well, it would be the same thing as you getting out there and taking off your clothes and putting on a pair of coveralls.
Bauman: Yeah. And I assume you had a dosimeter or something along those lines.
Jackson: Oh, yeah. We always had dosimeters.
Bauman: Mm-hm. Was there ever any time where you or someone else you were working with had exposure above the rates that were recommended?
Jackson: Well, I'm sure there were. I don't remember what my accumulated rate of radiation was.
Bauman: Mm-hm. And so how long did you work on that project, then, at the different reactors? How long?
Jackson: Well, I worked on that 100 Area reactors for probably ten, 12 years. There were different projects for this 558 program, and we did the same changes in all of the reactors.
Bauman: And so what did you do, then? What sort of work did you do once you were finished with that, after the ten to 12 years?
Jackson: Well, I still continued doing various work in the reactor areas, and one of the jobs I had was examining, building, and making the equipment to examine the process tubes. And they would take the process tube out of the reactor and push it out. And it would fall into the basin behind, and we would cut it up into sections. And one little job it was to take the section of this round tube—now it's a round tube, and it has two tracks kind of on the bottom, which holds the front of the uranium capsule so water can flow all the way around it. And I made equipment that would take that process tube and cut it in half, so that you'd just run it through this saw. And then you could lay it down flat, and the area had two curved sections, and then you could examine that. And they did that in the hot cells, in probably the 327 building. So that was some of it. There were other modifications made to the reactors that we were all part of, and we built a lot of underwater examination equipment. And then we would also build equipment to examine the vertical holes that the vertical safety rods operated in. We'd go down there with a TV camera, and record what that was, so we could see what the interior of the unit looked like. And I think we did it also with the horizontal rods. But we did a lot of that. I did a lot of work on the process tubes for B, D, and F, DR, and H. And C were all made of aluminum. And we got into KE and KW, and those process tubes were fabricated of zirconium. So we wanted to examine them, too, to see how they were holding up. And every once in a while, you would get a rupture in this tube, because the uranium slug, as we called it, might open up to the water, and then you'd have a reaction there, and it'd even tend to burn holes through the process tubes. So this examination included that sort of thing to see what those would look like down through the core of the reactor.
Bauman: Wow, hmm. Also, I understand you also worked at PRTR, an N Reactor at some point, as well?
Jackson: Yeah. I moved into 300 Area, and worked on the development of some of that stuff for PRTR, some of the equipment, and what-have-you, like that. I can't remember exactly what all the equipment was. And then we had the examination from PRTR also. PRTR was a water-moderated, heavy-water reactor.
Bauman: And then how about N reactor?
Jackson: I did not work on anything really associated with N--
Bauman: Oh.
Jackson: --except the development of the process tubing for it. And the process tubing was a--oh, I think it was probably about a 3-inch tube of zirconium. And it had about a quarter of an inch wall, if I recall. And we did a lot of testing prior to the startup of the N reactor, wherein we wanted to see what kind of temperature from pressure would react on this. Because for N reactor, the pressure was something like 2,000, 2,500 PSI, and 600 degrees Fahrenheit. So that ran very hot. We examined that tubing, also, when we built the equipment for doing that, and really made various and sundry tests, and then built up a facility for evaluating sections of the new tube to see that at what pressure would it break at what temperature. And I would put these in a special oven that we had in sort of a bomb-proof building. And I put them in a furnace, and I had enclosures on both ends of this tubing, and we could pressurize that tubing up to, oh, in excess of 20,000 PSI, and actually rupture them under conditions of 600 degrees Fahrenheit. And I had that down at 314 Building. And we would do the testing out just through the concrete block wall of this building. And when that thing went off, of course the safety engineer always called me when he heard the boom and the shake. And so he knew when we were doing this, and he was up in—I can't remember the number of that building. But it was right down the main drag in 300 from the vehicle gate. So we would burst this tubing, and sometimes we would put a slot in it, machined slot, so we could see how it burst under condition of wear. And that was a pretty interesting thing, because when it went off, it was a loud bang, like a stick of dynamite going off. And at one time there was a couple of people walking down the road when it went off right beside the road. And all of a sudden this big old capsule went flying up in the air several feet, and then lit down on the wet ground in front of them, and sizzled, and then everything like that. They were real surprised, were these guys. We used that facility for quite some time, and then it was taken by the service. But it was used for all the process tubing in N. I assume it was used in K, also. K east and west.
Bauman: So you had a lot of different, very interesting jobs in Hanford. Several.
Jackson: Yeah. That's why the job was very interesting, because you'd go from one interesting task to another interesting task, and they'd be, perhaps, totally different. And we would work through the design of the apparatus to run that, and then through the installation thereof, and the installation in the reactor, and all. So I worked in C Reactor for that, and the Ks. We had a lot of interesting experiences in K Reactor, because it was also a high-pressure thing. Not as high as N, but it was recirculating--well, maybe it wasn't. No, it was not recirculating the water. The water went right straight through.
Bauman: Is there anything about that work, that K Reactor that really stands out in your mind, anything particular?
Jackson: Well, I did burst testing on that tubing, also. And this tube was--oh, I think it was about an inch and a half in diameter of zirconium, and we would burst those in the same facility. I remember one time, a failure of the fuel element caused a lot of problems. And I don't remember what the heck we did. We had to get this stuff out. Oh, I can't remember what it was. But we got some farmer with some farm equipment, and used his farm equipment to get this thing out of the reactor. I can't quite remember what it all was. But it was interesting. Because there was something very interesting going on. And at this same test facility that I had in H Area, we worked hand in hand with the people from KAPL—Knolls Atomic Power Labs, in Schenectady—for the development of the fuel rods for the Naval submarines. So we did a lot of work for that, and worked hand in hand with these engineers from KAPL. And they kind of thought they were in charge of the thing, and they'd call up and say, well, you've got to shut your reactor down. And I says, I can't shut my reactor down. We'll have to schedule that. So we'd work through a schedule when we would have it shut down, and then they would come out, and we would take the fuel elements out of the test pile. And this was a test hole, went through—horizontally through the center of H Reactor, and ran at about 600 degrees Fahrenheit and 2,250 PSI pressure. So that was a lot of equipment that took a lot of specialized engineering.
Bauman: Of the many different projects you worked on in Hanford, were there some, or one, that were sort of the most rewarding to you, that you really enjoyed the most? And maybe something that was the most challenging?
Jackson: Well, certainly they were all challenging. And I enjoyed them, because it was a task that you individually had. There might be another engineer working with you, but generally it was just a single engineer working on a particular. But the 558 project was a large, large group of people working in the development, and the design, and the whole works. So we worked with all these other people, also, to accomplish that.
Bauman: So how long in total did you work at Hanford? When did you retire?
Jackson: 38 years. I started on the 7th of February in 1951, and I retired, I think it was the end of August in '88.
Bauman: I imagine there are a lot of changes that you saw take place over that time.
Jackson: Oh, definitely, definitely.
Bauman: Even in just how things were done, right?
Jackson: Yeah. And after working in the 100 Areas directly, then I moved into the mechanical development group in the 300 Area, which was project engineering. So we worked on a lot of the projects for the various pieces of equipment that would be put in here, there, and elsewhere. I worked at the 100 Areas, PRTR, FFTF, HSHTSF, I think it was. And all these, and they all had specialized equipment. So there was always a different type of job. It was very challenging. People had never done this sort of task before. So we had pretty much a free rein in how we could do it. The only stipulation was, if something went wrong, don't repeat it.
Bauman: Technology must have changed quite a bit from 1951 to 1988 also.
Jackson: Oh, definitely. Yeah. And the last bit of the work in project engineering was in a lot of the different buildings, building of facilities to test different pieces of equipment, and all. And we had some of those. Oh, I can't remember exactly how old it was. I remember building the firehouse in the K Area, I think it was. And then I helped rebuild the steam plant in the 300 Area. That was an interesting job, because we had a big steam plant to make steam to heat the whole area and what-have-you, the 300 Area. And they went from oil—oh, they went from oil to coal. I think that was it. Or did they go from coal to oil? Well, anyway, we replaced the oil system of heating the furnace, I guess you'd call it, to using coal. And so coal spontaneously combusts. And one night I was called out because the coal hoppers were up on the top of the steam plant, and the coal would go down into it. I was called out because there was fires in the passageway that was providing the coal for the fire. And it was in a vertical pipe. And I couldn't figure that one out, so I came up with the idea to attach hoses to a big storage container that they had out at 327 Building which contained argon. And we used the argon gas to put it into this fire, and it being totally inert, as soon as it hit the fire, it put it out. That was a very interesting one, and that took place very rapidly after we got the argon into the furnace. That really took it out. So we saved the day that day.
Bauman: I want to ask you about, President Kennedy visited Hanford in 1963, at the start of the N Reactor. I wondered if you were there, do you have memories of that?
Jackson: I think I was there. I think so. It was outside, and I think Ronald Reagan was there also. I'm not sure. I remember seeing Ronald Reagan, and probably Kennedy also.
Bauman: From your time working at Hanford, are there any events or incidents that sort of stand out in your mind? Things that happened that were either a little unusual, or just very memorable for some reason or other?
Jackson: Well, I remember one which had to do with my in-reactor loop in the H Area. The fellow who was operating it before I took over—they took something out of this test facility, and had it on a big long-boy. And they spilled water down the street in the reactor area, and we had to repave the street. So that was kind of interesting. [LAUGHTER] Just to cover it up so you couldn't spread the contamination. But there was always a challenge, and that's something that I enjoyed.
Bauman: So I guess, overall, in looking back at your years working at Hanford, how was it as a place to work?
Jackson: Well, it was a very nice place to work. We had pretty much free rein on what we could do. We had our individual jobs. And that was nice. And they could rate you as to how you performed, and how you managed your money for your project—when you came out money-wise in the right position—and also if you came out on your time schedule for it. So I had quite a few different projects doing different jobs in different locations.
Bauman: And is there anything that I haven't asked about yet, about your work at Hanford that you'd like to talk about, that you haven't had a chance to talk about yet?
Jackson: Oh! Well, when I came here, there was an awful lot of people, and the Hanford construction workers, of course, had the big 50,000 people out there in North Richland in barracks. Well, when we came—when I came, they were still in those barracks. If you were married, you have a little trailer that you lived in. The others were dormitories and such there. So there's interesting stories about some of that. You know, how some of the people survived that.
Bauman: Is there anything particular that stands out in your mind, any particular story?
Jackson: Oh, I was not a part of that North Richland area. I was fortunate enough, when I came, to get into the barracks down in the town. And like I say, I went into the men's dormitory, until all the tech grads congregated in W21, which was very nice, because it was a bunch of us guys that, you know, were fresh out of college, and had been for a year or two, and had a lot of mutual interests. I remember building a boat during that time, and we did a lot of water skiing out on the river.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you very much for coming in today, and sharing your stories, and all the descriptions of the various jobs you worked on. It was very interesting, so thank you very much. I appreciate it.
Jackson: Well, I appreciate, too, the facts of what you're doing. And you know, I think this story ought to be very interesting to see when we get done with the various people. Because there were a lot of us putting in a lot of time and effort to try and make this thing go. And since that time, we're trying to tear it all down, and get rid of all the reactors, and the separations area, which I never worked in the separations area. Now, I don't know. I haven't been out other than to the B Reactor, but I found the B Reactor was very interesting to go to, because I had a distinct familiarity with it.
Bauman: I guess it does bring one more question to mind. I teach a course on the Cold War, and I have actually taken my students out to the B Reactor to see it, and there's always this sort of amazement, at the size of the reactor, and all that. But of course, most of my students were born after the Cold War ended.
Jackson: Yes!
Bauman: So they have no memories of the Cold War.
Jackson: And not very much memories of World War II, and the action we had going on there. I wasn't here during World War II. I came right after, after college.
Bauman: And so I guess the question I have would be, if you were speaking to someone who is too young to have lived through any of the Cold War, how would you describe Hanford in a Cold War to them?
Jackson: Well, definitely the security was a big factor, and we all had two furnaces. We had special badges we wore to get into the various and sundry areas. And you'd leave one area and go to a second, you'd pick up a badge for the second area, and leave the first area badge there, and then when you came back out, you'd get your original badge back. And this was to monitor a lot the radiation exposure that you probably were getting. But it was also secure to make sure that your activity in that particular area was necessary and approved of. You couldn't get into it if you didn't have clearance to each individual area.
Bauman: Right. And would be important for people to know that, yeah.
Jackson: Yeah.
Bauman: Exactly. Well, again, thank you very much for coming in. I really appreciate it.
Jackson: You're very welcome. We did have the buses that we would catch a bus in the morning out on Stevens Drive. They had a big bus station there, and we'd have the big yellow buses, and we'd climb into them, and drive the 35 miles out to work. And the same coming back. You didn't work overtime, because your bus would probably leave without you.
Bauman: And how long did you do that? How long did you take the buses? For most of the time you worked there?
Jackson: Oh, quite a length of time, and then they finally allowed us to bring our own vehicles into the area in general, not the specific area of the 100 Area enclosures, or anything like that. And so we then carpooled. And that was nice, also. But I don't know. I rode the buses for several years, I know that. Probably ten years.
Bauman: All right. Well, thank you. Thanks again.
Jackson: I guess that's about the size of it.
Bauman: It’s good.
Northwest Public Television | Bush_Bob
Robert Bauman: I’m going to have you start just by saying your name, first.
Robert Bush: Okay, my name is Bob Bush.
Bauman: My name is Robert Bauman, and we're conducting this interview with Robert, or Bob, Bush on July 17 of 2013. And we're having this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And we'll be talking with Bob about his experiences working at the Hanford site. And so I'd like to start just by having you talk about how and when you arrived at Hanford. What brought you here?
Bush: Okay. During World War II, I was overseas. My parents were in the area, both of them working. My brother was also here in Pasco High School. When I came home from the service to Southern Idaho, Korean War broke out. Wages were frozen, and so I was looking to better myself. And I applied by mail. I was interviewed by telephone. And I came up here in 1951 to the accounting department, General Electric Company. They were the sole contractor. And for 15 years, in construction and engineering accounting, which was separate from plant operations at that time. And from there, my accounting career followed its path through several successive contractors. From GE to ITT, Atlantic Richfield, to Rockwell, and finally with Westinghouse. When I retired, I was with Westinghouse for one month.
Bauman: You said your parents were here during the war. When did they come out?
Bush: It was '43. 1943 and '44, my mother worked for the original postmaster of Richland, Ed Peddicord. And my dad was a carpenter. Built some of the first government houses called the Letter Homes. They were here about two years, I think. And then they went back to Idaho, I believe.
Bauman: Okay. And what part of Idaho?
Bush: Twin Falls, Idaho. Where I graduated from high school.
Bauman: Okay. What were your first impressions upon arriving in the Tri-Cities?
Bush: That's kind of interesting, Bob. Because I came up ahead of my wife and two--year-and-a-half old, and three-and-a-half-year-old sons. About two weeks ahead of them. And so I found a Liberty trailers to rent—the housing was nonexistent. And I found a Liberty trailer, which means it had no running water, no bathroom. It was like a camping trailer, basically. I sent for them. A brother-in-law who had graduated from high school went directly into the Korean War. He drove them up as far as Huntington. I went on a bus to Huntington and met them, came back. And as we came onto the Umatilla side, and I said, that's Washington. Well, there was no green and everybody was disappointed. But that's the first impression. I mean, there wasn't a bridge over the river in Umatilla. It was a ferry. So you drove around the horn at Wallula. Things were just really different.
Bauman: So you said you had a trailer. Where was--
Bush: In Pasco on a front yard of an old pioneer home, where Lewis Street crosses 10th. That was the end on Lewis Street at 10th. And from there west was called Indiana. And there was about three homes on there. And it just quit. And roughly across from the present day Pasco School Administration Building, which was a Sears building. Across the street there was where this home was. I mean, things have just—in the whole area—have changed so much.
Bauman: And how long did you live there then?
Bush: Until I was called for housing in Richland, which was six months. That was in June, no air conditioning. And finally got into an apartment building, a one-bedroom before with two little boys that slept in the same crib. It was still, basically, wartime conditions. Weren't any appliances for sale and you had to stand in line to get a refrigerator. It was a different world. But we were young, so we could take it.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And was this in Richland then, the apartment?
Bush: No, that was in Pasco. After that trailer, that was only about two weeks. And then we want into this apartment, the one-bedroom. Then we moved next door to a two-bedroom in a five-plex. And then in December, six months later, I got the first--I got a housing call from the housing office in Richland, which sat where the present day police station sits. And the lady offered me—she said, you could have it Saturday. It was a prefab. It had already been worn and pulled out. And I kind of hesitated. I said, I've already got something in Pasco. Well, she said, I could let you have a brand new apartment. That apartment was brand new. It was so clean. My wife, who was very fastidious, she didn't even have to clean cupboards. And the apartments have now been torn down by Kadlec for that newest building. And in fact, this morning I just went by and took a picture of Goethals Street, which is vacated. And it was quite a pleasant move to come out of a trailer into—a non-air-conditioned cinder block building apartment into a nice, brand new apartment with air conditioning, full basement, and close to work. And at that time, my office was downtown in the so-called 700 Area, which is basically where the Federal Building is--where the Bank of America is was the police station. And that's Knight Street, I believe. From there north to Swift, and from Jadwin west to Stevens where the Tastee Freeze was, that was the 700 Area confines. Probably about 22 buildings in there. The original thing prior to computers, everything was manual bookkeeping or accounting with ledgers. And they came out with a McBee Keysort cards, and it was called electronic data processing. It was spaghetti wire with holes in the boards, that type of thing. That building had to be a special airlock building. And that's the Spencer Kenney Building beside the Gesa Building. That building is built especially to house equipment. And they just went from there. And I moved around my office. And after 15 years, I went into what they call operations. I was onsite services, which—did that for 17 years. And that was probably the better part of--second better job that I had, I guess. The transportation and everything, onsite support services. The whole point there. That job took me all over the plant. I established inventories. I took some of the first inventories of construction workers' supplies and tools and shop equipment, rolling stock. My name was Mud. They thought so much of me they gave me a desk in the corner of a big lunchroom. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So you did work at various places then?
Bush: Yes. Well, yes. My very first location was in North Richland, then called North Richland Camp, where the bus lot was--the maintenance shops. I'm trying to establish a point up there—what's over there today? There's a big sand dune on your left going by the automotive shops, past the bus lot, where the bus lot was. Opposite that sand dune on the other side of Stevens was a bunch of one-story temporary buildings. That was North Richland Camp. And that's where my first accounting job was there for two or three years. I had been there—I came there in June. And in January of '52, had 22 people along in my department that I worked in. I was a junior clerk at that time. Took me four years to get onto the management roles, but I did. But anyhow, in that room they came in there six months later. After I'd only been here six months, AEC, predecessor to the OA. The AEC has taken over more management, more responsibility. So we're going to be laying off a lot of people. I had only been here six months. And so others grabbed straws and went different places. I always said either I was too ignorant or lucky, I don't know what. But I just sat still and it panned out for the better. I didn't get laid off. I moved from there. But I went downtown to the 703 Building, which stood where the Federal Building is now. There's a building to the rear that the city owns called 703. That was the fourth wing. 703 was the frame construction, the three floors. And the later years, they added a fourth wing out of block building. Made it more permanent. That's why it's still standing today. Now, that was my second location. And then I got on the management role in '55, which meant I went exempt and no more pay for overtime. And went out to White Bluffs site—town site, and that's where the minor construction was located. Minor construction, it's the construction people that are specially trained in SWP, radiological construction work, as opposed to run-of-the-mill construction. And they're the ones that had never had any accounting at all for any equipment, supplies, materials or otherwise. And that's where I had the lunchroom office experience. It so happened that they established--I brought an inventory procedure and established that first inventory during a strike. We had to cut government-owned tool boxes. But still, the workers thought they were private. And we had to cut locks in order to take inventory. And then we feared for our lives when they came back. Pretty rough day sometimes.
Bauman: What timeframe would that have been you were out?
Bush: That was 1955 to '56. A couple of years there, and then another person took over from there and I went into budgeting at that point, from accounting to budgeting. And I did that for--until 1963. And then I moved out to the so-called bus lot, which it was. 105 buses and all that. And I was out there for 17 pleasant years, budgeting, billing rate—Because we were the supplier of all plant services. So we had billing rates to the reactors, and the separations, and the fuel prep, and--whoever. The AEC, everything. We billed them, just as if we were like plumbing jobs. And that I enjoyed. That was probably my most productive period. And from similar work to that, I moved over—Let’s see, I was around when the Federal Building was built, but I didn't get into it. That was built in '69. I didn't get down there until 1980. Went down there a couple of years. And then they moved us out to Hanford Square where Battelle Boulevard intersection is. And I was there--I retired from that location in 1977. My wife and I retired the same week. I've been retired 26 years now at the end of this month.
Bauman: Was your wife working at the Hanford Site as well?
Bush: She worked after the kids were grown, like most stay-at-home moms do. She stayed until the daughter was of age, and then she went to work for a credit union, which was the government credit union, which was merged later on with Gesa. But that was an interesting job. They worked two hours a day, three days a week. Because it was all hand done, no mechanization. And then she got a job offer from the department in the central stores and purchasing department. She worked there eight years. In 1986, the income tax law changed a lot of things for all of us, effective in 1987. It meant that partial vesting was--IRS has to rule on all things like that. And that meant that if you had 10 years to vest pensions, once you pass the 50% point, whatever the vesting period is, then you were partially vested. And so she had 8 years out of 10. So she got 80%. But she had only worked eight years, so it wasn't a very large accumulation. Because I got my full. Of course, I'd been here 37 years I think it was, however that works out. 36.
Bauman: I want to go back and ask you—when you were talking earlier about that period in '55, '56 when you were working out at White Bluffs town site. You mentioned radiological construction?
Bush: Oh, that—those construction workers worked under what they called SWP, Special Work Permit, which meant radiological. They had to wear--the clothing was called SWP clothing then. Today, they call it something else. But they worked under those conditions, so therefore they were subject to different rules. Whereas, construction workers on brand new construction weren’t then—they didn't have any of that to contend with. But once a plant went operational, it became radiologically SWP. This is not an anti-union thing. It's just a demonstration of how things were in those days. They had some old buses that--the original buses in town were called Green Hornets. And they were small. They had chrome bars that went right across the middle of your back. And for 35 miles, that was not very comfortable. When they got the newer buses that you see today, like Greyhound has for instance, they relegated those to the construction workers at White Bluffs. Well, since GE guys worked up at White Bluffs, we had to ride those, too. So all the office workers in the warehouse--GE employees rode one bus. The electricians rode another bus. Pipe fitters rode another bus, even though there were only two or three of them. It was really a segmented-type thing. As close to anything radiological that I came to when I conducting one of those physical inventories—we would be out--all of the construction materials were stored outdoors on the ground. I mean, like stainless steel. 308 stainless steel was pretty high-priced stuff. But the sheets were stored outside on pallets. Well, one sheet is worth thousands and thousands of dollars. So we had to lay down on the ground and count the sheets to do the inventory. This one day—the only time I came close to any contamination, we went back and boarded the buses that evening from White Bluffs. And we saw the guys on the dock there chipping with a chisel and hammer. That meant they were chipping out flakes of contamination. So we asked what was going on. They said, well, we're next door to F and H Areas. And F Area had coughed out something they said. And so I said, well, my crew was outside today on the ground. And if they coughed out because all the--some construction workers could drive their cars. That's the only people. Plant operations people all had to ride buses. No parking lots. So anyhow, those cars were all impounded. Had tape around them. They couldn't go home. And some of the guys, they had to take off their shoes, leave them, and be issued safety shoes in lieu of it. And I said, well, we were on the ground, too. So they proceeded to take us all off the bus and surveyed us with a wand. And they only found a few flakes on our back. And so we were allowed to go home. But that's as close as I ever came to getting contaminated. It's still scary.
Bauman: Yeah. Obviously, Hanford, a site where security was prominent--
Bush: Very tight security, yeah. I was telling the young lady here that across the roadway on Stevens, as you near the 300 Area, there was a real wide barricade, probably eight lanes that you had to go through. And everybody had to stop, including buses. And the guard would get on the bus, walk down the aisle, and check every badge. And at that time, AEC had their own security airplanes. That was the purpose of the Richland Airport was for AEC security in the beginning. They had a couple Piper Cub-type airplanes. And one day we're on a bus going out to work in the morning. And all of a sudden, a plane just zoomed on by. Somebody had run the barricade. The plane goes out, lands in front of them, stops them, and that's how they got apprehended. Another incident of security, yeah, that's the subject? Many years later now, after 1963, and I'm in the transportation assignment. Airspace was off limits to all airplanes over Hanford because they had army artillery guarding it in the Cold War and all that. And a private plane had violated the space. And the AEC planes had forced it down. And once they're down, they can't ever take off. So after a week or so, they sent a lowboy trailer out there, loaded the small airplane on it, proceeded to come down what's the highway and now Stevens. And down where Stevens today, 240 and all that intersection is, there was only two lanes on the road then, not six. But at that juncture there, there was a blinking light. And they had to turn right to go to the Richland Airport. And this guy, the truck driver pulling this low-boy, he had never pulled an airplane before. And he didn't allow for that pull. Well, that blinking light clipped off a wing. And then he got time off. It was not really his fault, that pilot in the beginning. But there's a lot of—I guess full of interesting stories like that on security.
Bauman: Great. Did you have special security clearance to work at Hanford at the time?
Bush: Which?
Bauman: Any special security clearance?
Bush: Oh, yeah. I had Q clearance, which there's one higher than that, that's top secret. But Q clearance meant you could go into any and all areas. And because the nature of my job, I had that my whole time I was out there. Once you have it, they would tend not to take it away from you because it's quite expensive investigation to get it in the first place. I might mention something interesting in that regard. When I first came to work in 1951, why, the PSQ is Personnel Security Questionnaire. And it's about 25 pages long. And you had to memorize it, because every five years, you had to update it. Well anyhow, I filled that out, and you give references. And I have, in the Twin Falls area, a farmer that had been a neighbor farmer in Nebraska, where I was born, to my parents. I gave him as a reference because he had known me all my life. And that would be higher points. About a year or two later--I guess probably a year later I had gone back down to Twin Falls to visit the in-laws and I went and saw this farmer, family friend. The first thing he said to me, Bobby, what in the world did you do? [LAUGHTER] The FBI had come out to his farm and piled on the questions. And I hadn't told him ahead of time I'd given a reference. So they really did very, very tight security. It's probably tighter than it was when I was in the Air Corps.
Bauman: You mentioned riding a bus out to work.
Bush: Yeah, everybody rode it, except those few construction workers in that minor construction area. They were permitted their cars. I don't know why, but no one else drove cars on the plant. Everybody rode on the bus. The bus fare was--of course, it was subsidized. It was a plant operation, like anything else is. To make the liability insurance legal, they charged a nickel each way on the bus, which later on got changed to a dollar or something. But many of the years, we'd ride the bus 30, 35, or 40 miles to work for a nickel. The nickel was just to make it legal. From those old green buses, they came up with some--I forget what they're called. More like Greyhound buses. And then in 1963, the year I went out to the transportation, they bought a fleet of Flxibles. And that's F-L-X. There's no E in it. That's the same kind of flat-nosed bus that the bus lines used today. And they were coaches, not buses. They had storage underneath. And so we had quite a suggestion system on the plant. And you would get monetary award or mention. And somebody said, well, instead of running mail carrier cars delivering mail to all the stops on the whole plant, load the mail onto the now available storage bins on these buses. And that was a pretty good suggestion award, monetarily, to somebody. And they did that. Took it out to a central mail station out there, and then dispatched it.
Bauman: You mentioned different contractors you worked for over the years--
Bush: Uh-huh. The story behind that for the record is that General Elec--well, DuPont built the plant. That's who my dad worked for. And GE came in '46, I believe. And they were here until the group I was in--they phased out in groups. I was the last group to go out. [COUGH] Excuse me, in 196--'66. When the GE phased out, they had a dollar a year contract. Like Henry Kaiser and rest of them did during the war, for the good of the country. But they trained an awful lot of people in the infancy field of nuclear engineering. General Electric trained all those people here and then they opened up the turnkey operations in San Jose and Japan. But anyhow, AEC was still AEC at that point. And then, their wise decision--instead of one contractor, they would have nine. And so there were--the reactors was one. Separation plant was another. Fuel preparation at 300 Area was another. The laboratories, which is today basically Battelle. Site services. The company doctors formed a foundation called Hanford Environmental Health Foundation, which is the MDs that gave the annual exams. And the computer end, it was now getting into the infancy of that, computer sciences corps, we had the first contracts on that. So all together, there were nine contractors. And the portion that I was with went to ITT. They bid, came in and bid. I helped conduct tours of the facility for the bidders. Because I knew all about it and knew the ins and outs on some of the monetary parts that their accounting people would have questions on. We'd walk through shops and all that. Well, anyhow, ITT got the site support--site services. And we had that for five years. And austerity set in in the '70s. Well, '70. They said, we got to get site services' budget down to less than $10 million. And it probably was 13 or 14, I don't remember now. So my boss and another analyst, like myself, sequestered--talk about sequester. We sequestered ourselves in the then new Federal Building for about a week. Almost 20 hours a day, whittling and whittling and working on a budget. And there was only one conclusion. We had to cut everything in half. Went through all that sweat. Went up with our president, Tom Leddy, went upstairs to an AEC finance office, presented our whole case. And the man turns around and says, well, it doesn't make any difference, Tom. Your contract's not renewed anyhow. And so now, Atlantic Richfield, an existing contractor for 200 Areas, somehow the separations plant contractor that is an oil company owned, can all of a sudden manage a site service. And so they did absorb us. But politics were still around in those days. And there were three of us analysts. One had got transferred by ITT up to the new line--newly established Distant Early Warning Line from Russia up to Alaska. So that left two of us. And we waited around. We waited around and never got an offer. And they said, no, we can do it all without you. We don't need you. How come it took so many people anyhow? On a Friday afternoon, the man that I did budgets for saw me in a restroom. He said, you got an offer yet? I said, no, no. I'm working under the table with somebody else. Well, he says, if they don't hire you, I'm going to hire you. And so he went downtown, and about 4 o'clock, I got a call from the man that told me they didn't need us. Said they'd been kind of thinking. So I went over Atlantic Richfield under those. [AUDIO CUTS OUT] And so I'm not mad, not knocking—knocking them, that's just the way things were. And then Rockwell came to town. When they laid off everybody on B-2, I'm trying to think of other--in the community, something might be of interest for the history project. Back into the '50s. Those same green buses, they had, oh, four or five of them that ran in town like a modified transit system. I don't think they had that many riders, but it did. And also, the plant buses ran what they called shuttle routes. And those buses went into Richland on probably six routes and drove around the neighborhoods and picked up workers on the three shifts. And that's why up in the ranch house district, there was the bypass you'll see between homes. The pathways that go clear through lots. Blocks were so long that they had to provide a quicker route to the bus stops. Now, those rides were free because they were shuttle buses. When you got out to the bus lot, you paid your nickel, or a pass, whatever it was.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about accounting in terms of equipment practices. Were there a lot of changes during the time you worked at the Hanford site? Computer technology come in and change things?
Bush: Oh, yeah. For sure. In the beginning, as I mentioned earlier, all accounting was open ledgers and hand posted. Adding machine tapes at the end of the day trying to balance them all out. And we had that until--let's see. 1970s—I think it was 1977, we got our very first taste of it. Every other desk in a group of about 20 people in cost accounting that I was in. There was cost accounting, general accounting, and so on, property management. But anyhow, we had about 20 people. Every other desk had a monitor. Well, they referred to them as a computer. But they were just the monitor. And down at the end of our building was one printer. And everything was on floppy disk. Every program was on a floppy disk. Nothing was built-in because it was just the infancy. The big computers were down in the Federal Building. And a sub-basement below the basement was specially built for that. But back to our office. Across the hall from us, we had two small computers that are--to me, they're about the size of portable sewing machines. And I can't even remember the names of them because they don't exist today but they were the computer locally. So we wanted to run our work order system, we would phone down to the guy down at the other end of the building, insert the floppy disk from work system and wait. Well, I've got somebody's inventory. You have to wait. Because there's only one place to load up down there. So finally, you would put the floppy disk in. And then, you'd run it, which meant it'd run through it and print. But then you'd have to say, now print it. And they got one printer for the whole building. And so it's pretty interesting. Whereas today, I've got a laptop that I can virtually do everything with. But we graduated from hand posted ledgers right into computers. We didn't have anything in between. All of the reports that came out, came out on--referred to as IBM runs because everything was IBM. It was on paper that's about 18 inches wide with all these little perf marks on it to feed it. And you'd get one report and it would be about that thick. It was not that much information, but it's just so much printing. It's even hard to remember after 26 years how antiquated that is compared to today. But prior to that, it wasn't even the PCs. They called everything a PC. Or, was PC compatible. Because prior to that, the only electronic data processing nickname was spaghetti wire. I'm not very conversant in it, but it was some kind of a board that had a bunch of holes in it. They put wires in it and that went to certain things. But all it did was sort things. It didn't actually calculate them.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you a little bit more about the community of Richland. What was that like in the 1950s? I know it was a government--
Bush: In the town? I guess I didn't cover that area. Everything—all houses were owned by government. We rented them. My wife and I and family, we came after the days of free everything. When the coal was free--all the furnaces were coal fed. Some people would convert them later on to oil. But anyhow, they were coal burning. However you got the coal, whether it was government days or you bought the coal from the courtyard, which is down at the end of what's now Wellsian Way. There was a coal yard where that lumber yard is. And that's why those railroad tracks that are abandoned and rundown, that's where the coal cars came in. And I can add something a little bit later about coal cars and the plant. But anyhow, we rented from the government. For example, that brand new apartment that I mentioned moving onto first was a two-bedroom, full basement. Steam heated because--I'll digress a little bit. All the downtown 700 Area, including the Catholic church, central church, the hospital, all 700 Area, including those new apartments, and all downtown shopping area were steam heated by a steam plant, which was located where the back door of the post office is today in that small parking lot. And that one plant furnished steam for everything. Well, back to this new apartment. The steam pipes ran through this full basement. And our kids played—there wasn't any yards. There was just apartments. And they would play in the basement because they were quite small. But they can remember today the pop, pop, pop in those steam pipes. And the rent for that two-bedroom apartment was higher than any other house in town. It was $77 a month. And the reason it was $77 instead of $70 was because it included $7 for electricity. Nobody had electricity meters yet. Even in that new place. So when they did put in electricity meters in all homes later, which had to be—during that time, the year we were there, which is December '51 to December of '52, sometime in that period of time they put the meters in. They took off $7 off the rent because now we're going to pay—and their theory is it was $5 for a one-bedroom place, whatever it was. $7 for a two-bedroom and $10 for a three-bedroom for electricity in those days. And nobody had electric heat, of course. And then, later on they put in water meters. And again, they had to come into your home, invade your home, and put in something. So it was strictly government prior to—well, another—and when I lived in the rental, if something went wrong with the plumbing, they would send out a plumber, but you paid for it, though. But later on when I went to the tall two-story, three-bedroom duplex houses, or called A houses, that was our first house after that apartment. And as I remember, I think the rent was--they had rent districts with low, medium, and high in the more desirable parts of town. And we were on Haupt Street across from uptown district where Hunt Street is and Jefferson Park. And I think our rent for that was like $47 because it was not a brand new apartment. And later on, we—I was on the housing list. And you applied and months or years later, you'd rotate up to move into a nicer place or a different location. But in the meantime, up came an F house, which is a two-story single family, kind of a Cape Cod-looking type of house. And that came up on the housing list. However, the caveat was that you had to cash out the present owner who had made some improvements. He had converted the coal to oil, they put in a clothesline, which nobody had clotheslines, and something else. So cashed him out for—I believe it was $750. And if I do that, I could have it, so I did. We lived in that place for 19 years. Our daughter grew up there and got married out of that home. And that's the only home she ever knew. [LAUGHTER] And we were there until 1977 when the real estate market in Richland was—this is community wide. The housing prices were moving 18% a year, about 1.5% a month. And I thought well, I don't need to be setting still. I mean, if I cash out here, and went on. So we sold that home. I listed it. Earl, my father, was very ill. We were going to Spokane. I listed it. A man came by, looked it out. What were you asking? I said, oh, about 17. He shook his head. And I said, too high? He says, no, 27,000. [LAUGHTER] Just to show you how bad things were. And so it sold right away. What are you going to do now? And I said, well. Would you want to try a mobile home? I know a jewel. And in those days, real estate men did not sell mobile homes. But this couple had bought their first house from him, or something. And it was somebody retiring out of postal, wanted to go back to Montana. Never smoked in it, never had any pets in it, no kids. It was the Cadillac of mobile homes. We were there two years, but that was long enough. Then we moved into the house that I'm still in. I'm widowed now for five years. The house we're in now, we've lived in that longer than in any other place. [LAUGHTER] But the community just has changed so drastically. South Richland. People say today they live in South Richland. We lived in South Richland, which was south of the downtown shopping district to the Yakima Bridge. That was South Richland. What is now South Richland out there was Kennewick Highlands. So it depends on who you're talking to today.
Bauman: Yeah. Do you remember any special community events, parades, any of those sorts of things during the '50s and '60s?
Bush: Community events?
Bauman: Yeah.
Bush: Yep. Back in GE days, they had Atomic Frontier Days. And they were a big thing. Had beauty queens in it, rode in the float, and all that. Down at the—[COUGH] excuse me. For Atomic Frontier Days down at the lower end of Lee Boulevard, which is still the same shape today. They set up booths all on there. And it was a really big event. Before we had the hydro races even. People look back fondly on that. Talking about community, again, my mother, I said, worked for the post office, which—it stood on the corner of Knight Street, where it touches George Washington Way. There's some kind of a lawyer office building there today. And the old post office is the Knights of Columbus building on the bypass highway. But she would have to take the mail and go over to where the Red Lion Motel is today, at the Desert Inn, a frame building, winged out basically the same. And that was referred to as the transient quarters. And that was for upper management that were going through and it wasn't really a public motel, per se. But she would have mail for these big wigs over there. So she would have to go over there and have a badge to even go in the front door of that Desert Inn. Talking about badges, something humorous on that. We didn't wear things around our neck in the beginning because it was like a little pocket-sized bill fold. It was a little black bill that had your pass, your badge in it. And at every building you went into, you just pulled it out, flashed it to the guard. It usually was a lady security employee. There were guards in the building, but the person on the desk was a security clerk. But you'd just automatically—you’d open it like that and flag and put it back in your pocket. Every building you went into. Downtown, 700 Area, that first building I've referred to. One day I went into a restaurant and I just did that automatically [LAUGHTER] because it's just so automatic. Then they graduated to having the thing around your neck. And then also, if you worked in the outer areas, you had to wear a radiation badge in addition to your security badge. There was two types and one of them was a flat. And I don't know the difference. One's for beta and one's for alpha. I don't know. And one of them was a pencil shaped. And that's what they called it. And the other one was a flat badge, which was carried in something around your neck. And in all the areas I worked, and the places I described laying on the ground that happened and all that, my RAMs, they call it, never accumulated in my working life to be a danger. I had some, of course. Everybody does in the background. But I never accumulated to a danger point. There were people, some smart aleck people that would take their badge and hold it over a source at work so they could get some time off. Because if you got--what was the phrase? Anyhow, if they got contaminated, they put them on a beefsteak diet. And they stayed home. And they come every day and took a urine sample and all that stuff. But they had a life of riley. So that was nice. But the guys got canned that did that. But they would purposely expose their pencil so they could stay home.
Bauman: So did all employees have those, either the pencil or--
Bush: Only those that worked in reactor and separations areas, yeah. I mentioned these departments. Actually, the first department is Fuel Preparations Department, FPD. The present—the 300 Area--most of the buildings have now been torn down that you don't even see them there. But the north half roughly was fuels preparation department headed for the reactors. They took uranium and encapsulated it in cans, like can of peas in just so many words. And the south half of that 300 Area was a laboratory area, the predecessor of Battelle. So the fuel was prepared there. And it was machined and canned and sent as nickname slugs to the reactors. Then, the reactors loaded into all those little tubes. And then from the reactors, they come out the backside into those cooling pods and all that. And transported in casks to the 200 Areas, which are the separated area, separations. And the reactor area on the face side was not that dangerous. The 200 Areas only work on what they called the canyons, PUREX and REDOX, and those kind of buildings. But those cells were very, very hot. But you had to be measured no matter where you were. One of our site services was a decontamination laundry, called the laundry. And all clothing--I mentioned to you before SWP. Well, SWP, radiologic exposure employees wore whites. Carpenters and truck drivers and all that that didn't work around reactors wore blues. And so they were sorted. And we had different billing rates for that laundry because the blues only had to be laundered and dried. Whereas the others had to be laundered, dried, and decontaminated, checked in separate washing machines. And then workers wore—in the beginning, wore World War II-style gas masks for our air supply before they invented a moon-type suit. [LAUGHTER] But they wore gas masks. And the mask would come back to this mask station, which was part of the laundry. And they took the masks, and they'd take away the cartridge. They'd put the mask in dishwasher machines, in racks. That's how they would wash them. And then they would get them a new filter and package them up. Sanitize them and package them up like medical supplies would be in. I can't think of any other unusual operation out there like that.
Bauman: I want to change gears just a little bit. President Kennedy visited the site in 1963.
Bush: Yep, 1963.
Bauman: I was wondering--
Bush: When they did that, they let all the schools out. And for the first time, non-workers were allowed to go in cars out there. It was a grand traffic jam, but it was quite a deal. And he landed his Air Force plane up at Moses Lake—at Larsen airbase at Ephrata, whichever you want to call it. And then helicoptered. And of course, like it is today, there were three or four helicopters. And you don't know which one he's on and all that bit. And here, everyone is gathered out the N Reactor area, which is a dual-purpose reactor. They captured the heat from the reactor, put it through a pipe through a fence to the predecessor to Energy Northwest, which was called Whoops. This was a big deal, a dual-purpose reactor. And N stood for new reactor, really. Anyhow, he comes in and they got a low-boy trailer. They fixed up down in the shops where I worked—my office was. And then built a podium just precisely for the President with him emblem and the whole bit. So I was privy to get to see some things like that. But anyhow, that was the stage. And it was a long low-boy, so it accommodated all the senators and all the local—Sam Volpentest, the guy credited with HAMMER, those type of people. Glenn Lee from the Tri-City Herald, you name it. So the helicopter comes in, blows dust over everybody. But anyhow, my wife and kids and all schools were brought out there. And I don't know how many thousand people were out there in the desert. And you could see President Kennedy. He got up on the stage. You get close enough, you could get pictures. Then, that same year in November, he got assassinated. So that was a busy year.
Bauman: Do you remember any other special events with dignitaries like that? Or other--
Bush: Well, I could go way back to World War II. I wasn't here, but I have a family connection on it. All over United States, they had war bond drives for various reasons to help. Build a ship, build an airplane. The one that happened here is not the only one. But they took so much money out of all the paycheck of Hanford workers, which included my dad as a carpenter. And the money they collected bought the B-17 Bomber, which was named Day's Pay. And that bomber—they had a bomber out here, a B-17, so that people could see it, but it wasn't the same one. On the Richland High School wall there's a mural. And that's a rendition by a famous artist of Day's Pay in formation. And so I can say that my parents contributed to that. And that's the story behind that one bomber. Every worker out there, construction or operations, they donated a day's pay.
Bauman: I wonder, what was the most challenging part of your job working at the Hanford site?
Bush: As an accounting person, my most challenging part was learning government-ese. [LAUGHTER] How to deal. And in that vein, that took a long time. But once you learn it, there is a way in the US government, period. As I'm sure there is in certain corporations. Later on, when I mentioned that I went down to the federal building for my--finally got located in that building, there was another fellow and I were old timers in accounting. And that year, they had five college grads, accounting grads come in. They hired five at one time. And they ran them by Marv and I for exposure. This is how things are done. This is how the contacts are. And our basic job was to squire these young fellows around and introduce them to certain counterparts and now DOE. Now, this is how you make appointments with them. This is what you do. This is what you never do. And likewise, with senior management. And it paid off because of those five, all four of them became managers or supervisors, and one of them became my manager within two years. Today, that same man is the comptroller at Savannah River Plant. [LAUGHTER] And so I like to feel that I contributed to them being—partially to them being successful. And so that's a reward. But probably the most difficult thing coming from a private—I worked for Colorado Mill and Elevator, which means I worked at a flour mill district office as a bookkeeper. And that's a small town deal in Twin Falls. To come to work for the government where some of your family despises you because you work for the government, but you had to fight that as well as learn how the government operates.
Bauman: You mentioned earlier, you were talking about coal being used for heat in Richland. You also said you wanted to talk about coal fires going up at the site.
Bush: Oh, what?
Bauman: Coal fires?
Bush: Oh, yeah. Interestingly, the midway power station, substation at midway, is one of the reasons they built Hanford where they did because the Grand Coulee Dam had just been completed and an electricity producer—a major producer. And they put the midway substation down there. That basically was built to furnish huge amounts of power to Hanford, for the reactors, everything. Which in total—because I processed vouchers, I know it was 32 megs. Which today doesn't sound like much, but the whole plant bill was 32 megs when everything was operating. But if the power were interrupted, they had to have a backup. So every area had a huge diesel-powered--like water pumps, where they could pump the water from the river instead of by electrically. They had to be able to pump it because it was critical. Because all the water for the whole plant was taken in at intake water plants near the reactors along the river. The 200 Area water is piped to them in a huge line as raw water until it gets to their place. The backup is these coal-fired steam plants, is what I was trying to say. It got about 30-some cars of coal a day rolled through Richland past the cemetery. In the beginning, the railroad came down from the north, from Vantage area down along the Columbia River. There's a railroad bridge across the river, Beverly I think it is. And it came down to below the 100-B Reactor area. That's where the line ended. And then a plant had its own railway incidentally. It had a 285 mile-long rail line, high line and low line. Then, they built--in 1950, the year before I came, they built the line that we see today that comes from Columbia Center into Richland, by the cemetery. And it ends at the old bus lot area, where that railroad car Columbia Center into Richland, by the cemetery. And it ends at the old bus lot area, where that railroad car rebuilding outfit is now, there is a roundhouse that it's rectangular in shape. But some 30 cars of coal a day came in here to supply because those plants were—they actually operated the steam plants. They didn't start them up from cold. They just ran constantly.
Bauman: I wonder if you could provide sort of an overall assessment of how Hanford was as a place to work. What was it like as a place to work?
Bush: It was a great place for me. I came out of an area that was the agriculturally-oriented. And the Korean War started. Wages were frozen, you weren't going to go anywhere. I came up here and I got a new start, like pioneers did. I visualized that's what farming pioneers did the same thing. And it opened up a whole field for me, a big corporate field. And it's just been a great place to work. And it was not dangerous to me. I'm not afraid to drink the water here. I'm asked by a nephew in Hermiston constantly, how do you drink the water? And I said, well, it comes out of the river. How can it come out of the river and that plume’s out there? There's so many false stories around here. But working at Hanford, I think, by and large, almost all employees would tell you the same thing. It was a great place to work. The pay was decent. Maybe you didn't get rich, but it was decent. It's in a nice area to live in. When we came back in the '50s, or in the '40s, and before that even of course, shopping was pretty much nonexistent. They went to Yakima, or Spokane, or Walla Walla. That I didn’t—we didn't experience that too much by 1951 because by that time, the Uptown shopping district was built. And there was a men's store. And there was four women's stores. Because GE was the prime contractor, there was an appliance dealer that handled GE-Hotpoint appliances. We got employee discounts when we worked for GE. We also got 10% gasoline discount when we worked for Atlantic Richfield Hanford. But we just grew with the times. And it's just such an entirely different area now than it was. Just the world is different, too.
Bauman: Is there anything that I haven't asked you about? Is there anything you would like to talk about that we haven't talked about yet?
Bush: Now really, work-wise at Hanford, I think I’ve pretty well-covered it. I'll repeat myself. My first 15 years was construction engineering accounting, which is an entirely different field than operations accounting. Operations accounting concerns itself with the reactors and separations and the site services that support them. But I learned a lot by working at Hanford. My family, three adult children live here, are retired here. My oldest son went on Medicare this year. [LAUGHTER] And that kind of puts you in your place quickly. But it's been a good enough place that they stayed in the area. And of the six granddaughters, grandchildren, four of them are in the area. And that's kind of characteristic with a lot of the Tri-City families. They stay or come back.
Bauman: Well, Bob, I'd like to thank you very much for coming and talking to us today. I really appreciate it.
Bush: It's been my pleasure.