Tom Hungate: Okay.
Robert Franklin: You ready, Tom?
Hungate: Mm-hm.
Franklin: Okay. My name is Robert Franklin. I am conducting an oral history interview with George Boice on July 15th, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. I will be talking with Mr. Boice about his experiences living in Richland. So why don’t we start at the beginning, that’s the best place. When and where were you born?
George Boice: I was born in Ellensburg. A third generation native of the state of Washington. My father and my grandmother were born in Cle Elum.
Franklin: Oh, Wow.
Boice: We came through this—the tribe came through this territory and crossed the White Bluffs ferry in 1885. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: And went up to the Kittitas County area. And then we came back later. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: What year were you born?
Boice: ’37.
Franklin: ’37. Did your family work at all at the coal mine in Roslyn?
Boice: Yes. [LAUGHTER] Short answers. My grandmother’s brother, Uncle Tony, was a mine rescue worker up there at Roslyn.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: You go up to Roslyn, that is interesting. Ever been there?
Franklin: Yes, I have.
Boice: 27 cemeteries. Just neater than all get out. [LAUGHTER] The different ethnic groups up there. They talk about one Fourth of July, the Italians were going to raise the Italian flag in the main street there. Some of the local citizens took a dim view of it. And some wagons were turned on their side and the Winchesters came out, and the sweet little old lady got out there and got everybody calmed down before the shooting started. [LAUGHTER] But the flag didn’t go up. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. So what brought your family down to the Hanford area?
Boice: My—[LAUGHTER] When they started Hanford—Dad was a firefighter in Ellensburg, had been for a few years. And when they set up Hanford, the first thing they did for a fire department was pick up the retired fire chief out of Yakima. Well, he goes around to the local fire departments and starts hydrating citizens. [LAUGHTER] So, Dad came down here in ’43 as the ninth man hired at the Hanford Fire Department. Always claimed that half of them had been canned before he got there. [LAUGHTER] So he went to work in ’43—June of ’43 at Hanford. We were still there at Ellensburg, and we didn’t come down here ‘til summer of ’44.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Boice: And they were still moving prefabs in, and unloading them with rapid shape.
Franklin: Did your father commute at this time, or did he live on—
Boice: Uh-unh. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Where did he—do you know much about his living quarters or where he lived?
Boice: Yeah, there were barracks.
Franklin: So he lived in the barracks?
Boice: Oh, yes.
Franklin: Okay. Did he come back to visit at all?
Boice: Oh, yeah.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: Wasn’t but—hell, by the time you get up to the Hanford area, it’s just over the ridge. [LAUGHTER] So he’d come in every couple of weeks.
Franklin: Okay. How many siblings do you have?
Boice: One of each—one brother, one sister.
Franklin: Older, younger?
Boice: Oh, yeah. My brother was born in Kadlec in September of ’45. My sister was—well, they bracket the war. She was born about a month before it started—or right after it started. She was born in December of ’41.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: And he was born September of ’45.
Franklin: So can you talk a little more about your father’s job at Hanford? What did he—did he talk much about what he did, or—
Boice: [LAUGHTER] Oh, yeah! You know. The place is building up, it’s trying to erupt. You’ve got construction going all directions. Trailer house fires. He talked about them [EMOTIONAL]—how quick people died in them damn trailer houses. They’d go up in a matter of seconds. And there were acres of them. But yeah, it was—And the amount of nothing to do. I mean, you had time to work and then there was really no recreational facilities. He worked at a grocery store for a while in his off hours stocking milk. He said it was not unusual to work a whole shift with a forklift or a handcart walking out of the stack and filling the same slot behind the counter there. We came over twice to visit him at Hanford.
Franklin: Before you moved—
Boice: Yeah.
Franklin: --in ’44. Okay.
Boice: You drive across the Vantage Bridge, and somebody had gone through with a grader and graded out a dirt-slash-gravel road. And we drove around and down, and across the Hanford ferry into Hanford. Because you could get into Hanford; it wasn’t restricted—the town. Everything else was. So getting in and out of Hanford was no trick. Getting out of the surrounding area was. So my mom and I and my grandfather went down there.
Franklin: Wow. And where did you stay? Did you just go for the day?
Boice: Well, we didn’t—when I was there, we didn’t stay. We just went for the day and went home.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: But Mom talks about going down and staying overnight. [LAUGHTER] She says she was not warned. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Warned about what?
Boice: To keep everything you wanted nailed down.
Franklin: Oh.
Boice: She got up in the morning and somebody stole her girdle. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. So when your family moved in summer of ’44, where did you move to?
Boice: 17-1.
Franklin: 17-1?
Boice: That was the lot number and the house number. It is now 1033 Sanford.
Franklin: Ah.
Boice: It’s on the southwest corner of Sanford and Putnam.
Franklin: Yup. I live right by there.
Boice: We went in there and it was—they had—you can’t describe to people how they had come in there and just dozed the farmland over, staked out streets and planted houses. And hauled them in on trucks and set them down. We were fortunate—I didn’t realize how fortunate it was—in the fact that we had only come about 100 miles or so—we came in a truck. We had our stuff. Mom had her piano. And I can’t tell you how many times women would come up and bang on the door, can I play your piano?
Franklin: Really?
Boice: Strangers off the street. Just because it was there, and it was—so we had all kind of musical stuff. Everybody could play better than Mom could. But we had the piano.
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: And she had her houseplants. It was different. But there was no trees in Richland. There wasn’t three blades of grass! [LAUGHTER] You’d come in, you got a garden hose and a plastic nozzle. You hosed down your lot and it immediately became a slick, slimy mud pile. Great for kids to play in! Man, we could slide in that mud across there—it was really cool! And then when it dried up, why, it reticulated like a picture puzzle. So we’re picking chunks up and stacking them up and building houses. And Mom gets up and she’s just madder than a wet hen, so we had to put the lawn back together. [LAUGHTER] But the hose nozzles were so interesting, because when you had a plastic nozzle, but you couldn’t get anything else. There was a hardware store here, eventually, but they didn’t handle stuff like that. This was a war going on. And the ingenuity that went into lawn sprinklers would just boggle your mind! The cutest one I remember was some guy took a chunk of surgical tubing—he got a bent pipe for an uppensticker. And he stretched his hunk of surgical tubing over the end of it, turned the water on, and it was not efficiently watering his area, but he could flail water all over a half an acre! [LAUGHTER] That was one of the cuter ones. There was also no shade and no air conditioning.
Franklin: Right.
Boice: Coming down in a moving truck, Dad brought his carpenter tools, he brought his bench, and he set to work building an air conditioner. Now, this was the dog-gonedest thing you ever saw. He got some burlap sacks and set out there with scrap lumber in the backyard on his workbench just creating shavings out of boards. Fill these burlap sacks with wood shavings for the pads for his air conditioner. He got a motor out of I-don’t-know-what. It was an appliance motor out of something. And he whittled out this propeller out of a two-by-four. And he cranked this thing up and it sounded like a B-29. [LAUGHTER] But it would blow sort of cool air, which raised the wrath of the neighbors. Number one was the racket he was making. Number two was we had air conditioning. So immediately, guys come out of the woodwork in all directions. Guy next door was a sheet metal worker. He came home with parts to make a much better, more efficient fan that was quieter. [LAUGHTER] So they set to work building him one. [LAUGHTER] We made air conditioners—you come up with a motor, and they would come up with an air conditioner. And we would deliver them on the back of my little red wagon. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Where would you put that? Like, would that just go in the window?
Boice: We put it in a window.
Franklin: Oh, okay. And how would you attach it to the house?
Boice: Ingeniously! Most often, they would just build a rack underneath, a shelf on top, and set it up on top there. A houses, you wanted to put your air conditioner—at least about everybody did—set it at the top of the stairs where it would blow out the upstairs and cool your downstairs. They were reasonably efficient. The one thing about all the homemade air conditioners—very few of them, if any, had a recirculating system. So you had to use fresh water. This had two sides to it. You didn’t crud up your water system with alkali by reusing your water. But you did have to go out there and keep moving your hose where it drained out to water your lawn.
Franklin: [LAUGHTER] Wow. What kind of house did your family move into?
Boice: Well, originally we had a three-bedroom prefab. Prefabs come in three sizes and five colors. And a bunch of very ingenious kids on Halloween 1944 went out and stole the damn street signs. The buses coming back off of swing shift had no earthly idea where they were going. They wandered around town, because all the houses looked alike! [LAUGHTER] Then after a while—oh, let’s see, we moved in in August, and about the following spring—because we started out school at Sacajawea and then at Christmas vacation they changed us to Marcus Whitman. But up there on Longfitt, thereabouts, I was coming home from school and here sits the roof of a prefab right out in the middle of the street. Apparently, this guy was sleeping and a windstorm come along and picked up his whole roof and set it out in the middle of the street. Thereafter they had a crew of carpenters going around fastening the rooves of the prefabs down a little tighter.
Franklin: Because at that time, right, they had flat rooves.
Boice: Flat rooves.
Franklin: Correct? That kind of overhung a bit, something that the wind could really easily—
Boice: Oh, yeah.
Franklin: --grab ahold and pop off. Do you remember when they got the gabled rooves that they all have now?
Boice: No, I don’t, because I was—I think after we left, but I wouldn’t bet heavy money on it. We moved off the prefab in ’45.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: And into an A house on Swift. I don’t recall when they put the gabled rooves on.
Franklin: Okay. So what did your mom do? Did she work at Hanford at all?
Boice: No.
Franklin: No?
Boice: She was a stay-at-home mom.
Franklin: Stay-at-home mom?
Boice: It was such an interesting place. The buses ran every 30 minutes. No charge, just go out and get on the bus. One of my main jobs was—because there was no mail delivery, everybody in Richland got their mail general delivery. So I’d take the bus, go downtown, get off at the post office, check the mail, go down to the grocery store—and there was only one—that was a brief period, but then there was only one grocery store at that time. And that’s where that ski rental shop is—kayak rental shop on the corner of Lee and GW?
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Boice: That was the grocery store. The one and only. Shortly thereafter, Safeway opened up on the corner of—southwest corner of Lee and Jadwin. So things picked up. And then there was—they come up with the community center grocery store—whatever you want to call them. There was one at Thayer and Williams, which was the Groceteria. Garmo’s was out there on Stevens and Jadwin—no, Symons and something-or-other. The south end of town was—oh, nuts. He was the one that survived—Campbell’s. Campbell’s grocery store. He specialized in fresh fruit and stuff, and of the whole pile of them, he was the one that really come out of it in good shape. But the fourth one is now the school office, up there by Marcus Whitman. That was a grocery store.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: But you go down, you do your post office work, and then you go and get your groceries, and if you’re lucky you get ten cents. Next bus home. You know where the Knights of Columbus Hall is out on the bypass?
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Boice: That used to be—originally that was the Richland post office.
Franklin: Mm-hmm.
Boice: It’s up there at Knight and GW, I think. There wasn’t a whole bunch of shopping centers. The Richland Theater was in existence. The drug store next door to it was there. After a while, the big brown building, which was everything, at that time, when it opened up it was CC Anderson’s. Then there was the dime store, and, oh, we were hot and heavy then. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Can you tell me a little more about your dad’s job? What would a typical day or a typical week look like for someone who worked on the fire department?
Boice: On the fire department, there is no such thing as typical. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: It was wild. In the beginning, they opened up—they were on shifts. Like everything was on day shifts, swing shift, graveyard. In our neighborhood, after my brother was born, we moved down to Swift and McPherson. Dad had come into town by that time. If you go behind the Richland Theater, you look real close, there’s two B houses back there. One of them’s a real B house and the other one ain’t. You look at the B houses over here, and the other one that ain’t is over here. And you look real close at the driveways. That was the original fire station that the City of Richland had going. That was the fire station when Hanford came in. Then they built a fire station on Jadwin in conjunction with the housing building and a couple other things, right across from the 700 Area, which is what they wanted, was coverage on that 700 Area. So that was the downtown fire station. And when they opened that up, why, then Dad came up out of Hanford.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: He wasn’t too long there, and they opened one up Williams off of Thayer, in behind the Groceteria and a little service station up there with a small satellite fire station. Two trucks and one crew. Dad was there for years and years and years.
Franklin: How long did your dad work for Hanford or the government here?
Boice: Like I say, he came in in ’43 and retired in the early ‘70s.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Boice: Rode her right on through.
Franklin: So what did he do when the community transitioned in ’58?
Boice: They bought him!
Franklin: The City of Richland did?
Boice: Yup, the City of Richland bought the outstanding time and he rolled right over.
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Boice: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So can you talk a little bit more about growing up here? You said you went to Marcus Whitman and then to—and then what other schools did you go to?
Boice: Well, like I say, there was no shade.
Franklin: Right.
Boice: And very few radio stations. With a good shot you could get in Yakima, Spokane, and Walla Walla, and that was about it. So we sat around in the shade, and my mother read us stories. [LAUGHTER] One of them was a book we picked up in Walla Walla about Sacajawea. She read us the entire story of Sacajawea and the Shoshones and the Lewis and Clark Expedition, et cetera, et cetera. And in ’44, they opened up Sacajawea School. Now, as everybody does, they did their darnedest to convert us kids to saying Sah-CAH-jah-wee-ah. It didn’t take. [LAUGHTER] Because there was already Sacajawea State Park and everybody was using the term Sacajawea. But Sah-CAH-jah-wee-ah—they tried. They gave it their level best. It didn’t take. But the time that they were doing this, Miss Jesson was a teacher there was giving us the thumbnail sketch about Sacajawea. She did a pretty good job—well, you know, she told you what she knew. And she made mention of the fact that she was married to a trapper, but they didn’t know what his name or anything about him. I says, his name was Toussaint Charbonneau. He got her off a wolf man of the minute carriage for a white buffalo robe. My status went up. [LAUGHTER] And the teachers wanted to know where in the cat hair I learned that. Well, Mom read us the book. But I’ve always liked Sacajawea School. Just kind of a kinship. We went—in ’45, they opened up Marcus Whitman. We went there ’45 was all, because when they broke for the summer, we were over by—we moved. By the next fall we were over in the area where I could go to Sacajawea again. But we were going to Marcus Whitman when Roosevelt was shot—died. So that was the event of the time. You watched the transition of one President to another. The flag ceremony—the whole thing—it was interesting for a kid.
Franklin: I bet. What do you remember about during the war years that kind of focus on secrecy and security? How did that affect your life and your family’s life?
Boice: You didn’t talk to nobody about nothing! [LAUGHTER] I mean, that was just the words. You didn’t talk about—if somebody asks you what your dad does, you talk about something else. It was so interesting here in the last year, I think—time goes quicker now. A whole bunch of us from that neighborhood on Swift went to a funeral—this boy’s mother—well, yeah—Bill’s mother’s 100th birthday, after the funeral they had a sit-down dinner. I happened to sit down at the table with the whole kids of the old neighborhood. And we’re talking about all this stuff, and the secrecy, and the ones you watch out for—this girl over here. Yeah. She didn’t share the secrets with the neighbors when they were talking about who’s got butter on sale. They didn’t tell her anymore. She fried her food in butter. So no one would tell her where the butter sales were when it was available. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Was there any mention of the work going on at Hanford at school that you can remember?
Boice: The one thing of what was going on, and it wasn’t the work at Hanford, because nobody talked about that. But when the Japs were sending over the firebombs—
Franklin: Yeah, the balloon bombs.
Boice: Yes. We were told to write no letters, tell nobody, because they didn’t want it to get out how blinking effective they were.
Franklin: Right. The fear of these bombs from the sky—
Boice: They were hitting, and they were working.
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: You guys are in the right position to find out. But there was a rumor going around that a balloon-loaded Jap had landed out there in the area and they caught him and bundled him up and carted him off before they did any business. Okay, la-di-da-di-da. There’s rumors about one thing and another. And four or five years ago, CNN or one of these, they were talking about the weather balloons. They showed the colored pictures taken out here at Hanford of the balloons landing in the BPA lines and burning up. [LAUGHTER] End of speech, end of story. [LAUGHTER] But I was surprised to find out that something had happened. There was no soldiers attached or anything else, but there was an incident.
Franklin: Yeah, we’ve—there are a couple confirmed reports of—we actually did an oral history with a gentleman whose father had been a patrolman and had seen one of the balloons land and had to chase it down and didn’t realize right away that it was—had explosives attached to it. The others—there’s a couple reports of them touching down onsite. And there was a family that was killed in Idaho where they were picnicking and a balloon came down.
Boice: Idaho or Oregon?
Franklin: I think it was—oh, that’s right, maybe it was Oregon.
Boice: K Falls.
Franklin: Yes.
Boice: You go to the museum in Klamath Falls had the—or when I went through it—I was working down there twenty years ago or so—they had a big display of the family that was picnicking and the kids went to prod on it, and it went off and killed a girl.
Franklin: Yeah. Were there—when you were—so we’re still in the World War II era and we’ll definitely get to the Cold War in a bit—but were there any kind of—what do you remember about like emergency procedures in school? Was there anything special, kind of drills or something during World War II?
Boice: You mean the duck-and-cover?
Franklin: Yeah, that kind of stuff. Was there any duck-and-cover during World War II?
Boice: Oh, yeah, oh, yeah. Of course—my kindergarten days—now, man. Lived across the street from the college there at Ellensburg, and firebombs were to be worried about. But I was covered. I had a bucket full of sand and a shovel, and it was there on the front porch. When the firebomb came through there, I was going to put my sand on it. So we were prepared. God help us if it landed any place else. [LAUGHTER] But the beginning of the war when I was a kid in Ellensburg was so funny, because we were living right across the street from the college and everything was just the standard college. And the war started, and immediately, there’s all these people running around here that can’t count. Hup, two, three, four. Hup, two, three, four. I wasn’t even in kindergarten, and I knew about my ones! [LAUGHTER] And there was—you go across the street and around the corner, and there was this one half basement room where I could stand there and watch the guys play shirts-and-skins basketball. And the next time I looked, here’s a skeleton of a single engine aircraft, and a guy instructing people on how to make dead stick landing. Now, of all the damned things for a four-year-old kid to remember, dead stick landings was what he was talking about. And they had this thing skeletonized where they could show the internal workings of all the aeronautics.
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: But in Richland—oh, yes. Duck-and-cover fire drills. But they never talked about nuclear, because it was yet to be discovered. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Right, right. So Ellensburg then quickly became inundated with—the state college there became a training area?
Boice: Oh, yeah. Just that fast.
Franklin: Wow. In your notes here, I also see you mentioned about the heavy military presence and the olive drab everywhere and the cops in Army uniforms.
Boice: [LAUGHTER] It absolutely was. Richland was strictly OD. I think they only had one bucket of paint. But all the vehicles were olive drab. The buses were, on today’s standards, I’ll call them a three-quarter size school bus painted olive drab. The vehicles were anything they could scrounge up, because I remember two GIs in a ’37 Chev coupe, and I know today some farmer had taken the trunk out and made a pickup box out of it. But they scrounged this thing up someplace, painted it OD, and here’s the MPs running around in a ’37 Chev pickup. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: [LAUGHTER] A homemade pickup?
Boice: Yeah. It was years later that I found out—Dad didn’t say anything about it, and he certainly knew—that it was simple, because the war was going on. Everything was prioritized. But they had unlimited supply of uniforms. So they put the cops in soldiers’ uniforms; the firemen were in Navy uniforms. The firemen stood out and were very easily recognizable, but you couldn’t tell the soldiers and the cops apart, because they all had the same stuff on. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. A couple oral histories we’ve done with people that were children in Richland, a couple of them mentioned their fathers had taken them onsite somewhat clandestinely. Did your father ever take you onsite into a secured area?
Boice: No.
Franklin: Did you ever get access to any of that some way?
Boice: No, I did not go to any secured area.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: I was raised running in and out of fire stations. To this day, when I go through the door of a fire station, my hands go into my pockets. You’re allowed to touch nothing. Because you leave fingerprints. [LAUGHTER] It’s just a genuine reflex.
Franklin: Yeah! So you said that you went to Sacajawea, then to Marcus Whitman then back to Sacajawea. Then where did you go to high school?
Boice: We went through all of the—I’ll call it the school construction. They couldn’t build schools fast enough in Richland.
Franklin: I bet.
Boice: We had double shifts. Now they have these temporary quarters—whatever you call them. But we had hutments. Sacajawea had six hutments out there. They built the hutments, and then they went to double shifts. So you went to school at 8:00, and at noon they marched out, teacher and all, and our class marched in, and we went home at 4:30 or 5:00, something like that. So we went through all of that, and then in ’49, they opened Carmichael. A brand new junior high school, man, this is cool! And I was in the seventh grade in Carmichael and I are still the proud possessor of ASB cord 001, 1949, Carmichael Junior High School. The first one they ever gave out. [LAUGHTER] And that was neat, to have a real hard-built school. It was—oh, we had class. After three months, we moved to Kennewick. The Kennewick school system—
Franklin: Your family did, or--?
Boice: Yeah!
Franklin: Oh, okay.
Boice: Dad stayed in Richland, but they were selling off. And if you didn’t have priority, the houses went to the guy that was there first. And in that A house, we were in second, so we were not in line to buy the house.
Franklin: Right.
Boice: So, Dad got a piece of property in Kennewick and we moved to Kennewick. And what a school system mess.
Franklin: Why?
Boice: They were behind. They couldn’t get money quick enough. They couldn’t build stuff fast enough. They had the red brick building—forget what it was called. It had been a high school at one time, and they pressed it back into service. It was so overcrowded you couldn’t believe it. But they finally built the high school that’s there now. It opened in ’52, I believe. ’51—yeah, class of ’52 was the first one to graduate—’52 or ’53. Graduated from Erwin S. Black Senior High School. And it was Erwin S. Black Senior High School one year. Because he was the school superintendent, and they built the school—they named the school in his honor because he had gone to bat and made trips back and forth to Washington, DC to cash some money to use for the school system. Then they got in a shooting match with the Tri-City Herald. [LAUGHTER] And Erwin S. Black and the schoolboard got run out of town, and they chiseled his name off the front of the school. But for one year it was E.S. Black.
Franklin: And then it just became Kennewick High School.
Boice: It became Kennewick High School.
Franklin: Can you talk a little bit more about this disagreement between Erwin S. Black and the schoolboard and the Tri-City Herald?
Boice: It was several things. One of them, there was a book—and I can’t recall—Magruder? McGregor? Somebody. It was a history book, and it mentioned communism. And that was brought up and made a big deal. This was back in the McCarthy era.
Franklin: Right.
Boice: That was brought out. And there was a lot of talk—Black was a certified building inspector, and he inspected the construction of the high school. It was said by a lot of people that it wasn’t up to standards; that the concrete wasn’t what it should have been. And I don’t know what the specs were. I wasn’t into concrete work at that time. I have been later. But I know when we were hanging the benches in the ag shop, where you would put a concrete anchor in the wall ordinarily and it would hold, they didn’t there. And they had to through-bolt through the wall to get to things to hang. So there was—and transfer of equipment and stuff—this was swapped for that, and that was swapped for this—and I don’t remember that, and the only guy I know that did know has died. [LAUGHTER] But one of the kids that graduated from Erwin S. Black, one of the few that was in that class, worked with him off and on and was aware of what went on.
Franklin: When you said that there was a book that mentioned communism, did it mention it in a favorable light, or did it just make a mention to communism?
Boice: More or less, it just made a mention.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: I was on the—oh, we had the open house at the school, and I was one of the tour guides. Yeah, I showed them the book and what it had to say. And I don’t recall anything drastic.
Franklin: So then did you graduate from Kennewick High School?
Boice: No. [LAUGHTER] The military had a hell of a sale. Anybody that enlisted by the first of February got the Korean GI Bill of Rights. And those that enlisted afterwards didn’t. So I drug up in January and joined the Air Force.
Franklin: Oh. Without graduating.
Boice: Without graduating.
Franklin: Okay. Interesting.
Boice: So I served my illustrious military career in a photo lab in Mountain Home, Idaho. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: And how long were you in the Air Force?
Boice: Two years.
Franklin: Two years, and then you were discharged?
Boice: Yes, yup, yup.
Franklin: When you were in school, you mentioned being in school during this McCarthy era, one of the real hot points of the Cold War. Can you talk a little bit about the civil defense procedures and kind of the general feeling of that time as it related to—because I imagine with Hanford so close, and now knowing what was being produced there, that would have been a likely target. It’s a major part of the nuclear weapons stockpile. So can you talk a little bit about that time and just the general feeling?
Boice: Well, you knew what was going to happen—or what they said was gonna happen. It was the duck-and-cover thing. And we had drills. A lot of what they said what was gonna happen—now they talk about getting into water to modulate it. Then, it was one of the things that they didn’t want you to do. Because we had the irrigation ditch that was running right alongside of the schools. But then they didn’t want you to get into it. So, it’s changed. They had the civil defense procedures—Radiant Cleaners, they’re in Kennewick. They had panel delivery cleaner trucks. They were rigged for emergency ambulances. They had fold-down bunks in them; they could handle four people. [LAUGHTER] It was taken serious.
Franklin: Did you feel any particular sense of worry, or did it not seem to really affect you, your daily life or your psychological—
Boice: It never bothered me ‘til years afterwards. When they talked about the Green Run, where they turned a bunch of that stuff loose, just to see what it would do to the citizens and count the drift on it. The people that had—the down-winders, and the people that had the thyroid problems. My sister was one of the first rounds that went to court over that.
Franklin: Really?
Boice: Because she was—we moved into Richland. She had her third birthday in the prefab, when they were still practicing how to build this stuff. And then we moved in on a farm where the alfalfa grew, the cow ate it, gave them milk, and everything was recycled and nothing went over the fence. And so it bothered me, then, that they used us as guinea pigs. But the other hand, they really didn’t know what in the cat hair that they were doing in a lot of cases. The nuclear waste? You’ve heard about the radioactive rabbit turds.
Franklin: I have.
Boice: You have?
Franklin: Yes, I have, but why don’t you mention that?
Boice: I was working with Vitro out here—’72, I think it was. The radioactivity, of course, is settled on the sagebrush. And the rabbits went around eating the leaves, just leaving fat, dumb and happy, and concentrating everything into the rabbit turds. And they were contemplating taking the top six inches of about two or three sections and burying it. Only they couldn’t decide where they had to build the hole. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: When you—you mentioned just a minute ago that you were on a farm, and you had the cows that would have eaten the tainted alfalfa—was your milk ever tested? Or did anyone ever come and--
Boice: Nah. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: test your—Were you ever tested for—or your family, anybody in your family, ever tested for radiation? Because I know that they, at one point, had those Whole Body Counters that they would test—some children in Pasco were tested through those machines?
Boice: You ever been through a Whole Body Counter?
Franklin: I have not been through a Whole Body Counter.
Boice: Depending on where you’re at, there may or may not be a—they’re kind of a joke. Now, when I was working here at Vitro, we went through the Whole Body thing, and they were serious. I mean, before we got cleared out, we went through the chamber, and we were counted. I went to work in South Carolina. They—as far as I was concerned—were very sloppy with their radiation handling and their checking and their radiation monitoring. We had a hand-and-foot monitoring station where we was going in and out of. You stick your hands in and they check it, and your feet were there at the same time. Well, this one time, I come up pretty hot, so I found an RM. I says, that machine gave me a bad reading. Oh, he says, that machine’s no good anyway. Come around to this other one over here and we’ll check you out. Well, if the blinking thing’s no good, why in the cat hair are we using it?! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So, just a second ago, you mentioned you were working for Vitro?
Boice: Uh-huh.
Franklin: What is or was Vitro?
Boice: What was Vitro? Okay. Vitro Engineering—and I don’t know how many times the name changed hands. But these guys were the ones that laid out the City of Richland—laid out the Hanford Projects. These were the strictly insiders. There was pictures on a wall of my grade school buddy’s dad, who I remember being a surveyor in Richland there. And these guys—this has gone on forever, and they were a pretty dug-in organization. To the point that they were not really aware that there was a world outside the fence. They’d heard about it, but they weren’t too sure it existed. [LAUGHTER] But I ended up at Vitro, and we did the Tank Farms that they’re having problems with, the hot tanks? We were in on the modification of that farm. We surveyed in there quite a bit. Whenever they show the pictures on TV, they always show you the evaporation facility. They show you that same picture. Warren Wolfe and I—I say Warren and I—it’s a little—our crew brought that up out of the ground, and we modified the tank farm, and we laid out the construction on that building from the ground right through the top.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: And I was very fortunate, because all my surveying experience to that point was with the railroads and pipelines and longline work. Construction surveying was new to me. And I got throwed in with an old boy that was good at it. [LAUGHTER] And I learned a bunch working with him. And rolled right over, later on, into Hanford, too. We got in on the end of that—[LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Hanford II?
Boice: Yeah.
Franklin: Oh, as--T-O-O. And which building was this that you and Warren Wolfe and your crew built?
Boice: All I remember is the evaporation facility.
Franklin: What was your specific job at Vitro? Were you a surveyor?
Boice: I was a surveyor. I was an instrument man. You get in the hot zones—we got inside the Canyon Building on several different occasions. And you got suited up, and I was instructed very specifically and emphatically to touch nothing, because anything that got crapped up, they kept. And we couldn’t get the instruments crapped up. But that stuff was so hot that the paper—the Rite-in-the-Rain books have got a specific paper there that has pitch in it or something—it attracts radioactivity like a sponge. And when they kept the notes, then one of us would stay inside and the other guy would get out in the clean zone, and we’d have to transcribe all the notes, because that book was so hot that they wouldn’t let it out of the area. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: There was some weird stuff going on.
Franklin: Any other—
Boice: Yeah, but there’s some I ain’t gonna talk about. [LAUGHTER] Okay. We came so close to having a nuclear disaster, it wasn’t even funny. We were good. We were awful good. And we were fast. And we were set up out there on an offset, and Rosie the labor foreman come over. Somebody said you needed a shot here for a hole for a penetration into the tank. Man, we whipped that out and figured the pull and what it was gonna take. Swung over there, put a distance and an angle, drove the stake in the ground. I figured that Warren checked it, and away we went. We come back in a week or so, or a few days later, we were back in that same farm. And Rosie comes over there and he says, would you guys check that again? Because these guys was digging a hole there and they’re supposed to hit a tank. And we checked it. And I lied, and Warren swore to it. [LAUGHTER] We forgot we was on a ten-foot offset. So they’re digging clear to one side of this tank, and just good solid dirt. Had we been just half as screwed-up as we were, they would have gone right down the edge of that tank with a core drill. And we’d have had ooey-gooeys all over the place. They talked to us. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Kind of a happy accident, right?
Boice: Yeah, we were—I’ll never forget Warren’s work. He’d come back with the boss and he says, name me one guy in this world ever got through this life being perfect. He says, always pissed me off, he’s a damned carpenter. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So you went to—you joined the Air Force, you went to Idaho for two years. When you came back—or what did you do after that? Did you come back to Richland after?
Boice: We were living in Kennewick.
Franklin: Living in Kennewick.
Boice: And I was working at the Washington Hardware Store. And this kid—we were working on cars in my buddy’s garage. And this guy comes through and he’s surveying for the Corps. And he talked that they were setting up a photogrammetry section. Well, heck, that’s what I was doing in the service. So, I beat feet over to Walla Walla to sign up to lay out photo mosaics. And they say, we haven’t got enough work for fulltime at that job. Are you a draftsman? No, I are not a draftsman. He says, would you take a job surveying? You bet. I became a surveyor. [LAUGHTER] And we worked from the mouth of the Deschutes River to Lewiston, Idaho. The first thing was the mouth of the Deschutes to McNary Dam—we mapped from the water level to the top of the bluffs by hand.
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: And then we went through, starting in ’58, and we inventoried the railroad. Now, when you inventory a railroad, we inventoried a railroad. Everything they possessed was put down. First, you go through and you measure and put stations—mark station markings on the rails. 80 miles of them. Then you go back and you reference everything the railroad’s got. Ties, spikes, tie plates, rails, joints, joint bars—if the fence moves, how far did it move, from what to what? If the rail changes, if there’s an isolation joint in there, you put that in. When you come to a switch, you measure everything that’s in the switch facility. You go—everything that that railroad has got. You become very, very familiar with railroads. [LAUGHTER] And then we went ahead, and we built railroads clear up to Lewistown. We handled a railroad layout real heavy. When they—are you familiar with the Marmes men?
Franklin: Yes.
Boice: Luck of the draw, I was on that. Because we were the—call it the resident survey crew in that area.
Franklin: Oh.
Boice: And we were babysitting construction. Make sure they got sticks out ahead of them, make sure that things are checked out behind them. They’re putting in a detour, why, check that out. They’re building a bridge, make sure it’s set up right, and check it out when they get done. So, first they call up and they say, there’s a guy down here at the mouth of the Palouse River thinks he hit something, and he wants an elevation on this cave, see where the water’s gonna come when they raise the water behind Lower Monumental, I believe.
Franklin: Yeah, I think that sounds right.
Boice: Is that the dam? So we went down there and run him in an elevation, painted it on the cave face. Happily on our way. Well, they hit pay dirt. [LAUGHTER] They dug up bones. So we were called back. They wanted—because the drillers were in there then doing sub-cell drilling of what’s down there. So we got to come in there and locate their holes so they know where what is. That was interesting. The whole thing. Now that the world has got into this Ice Age floods and stuff, I wish so heavily that I knew then what I know now. Because the layers that they went through were very definitely visible. This thing had been covered in various floods. But it was so interesting, the stuff that they found. Because it became an international incident. One of the coolest cats in the whole joint was Pono the Greek. And Pono run the sluice box. He had been all over the world. When the girls dug everything out, then they took the dirt to Pono, and he washed it down. Pono found thread of somebody’s sewing. Then they found the needle. And that to me was so cool. They had this needle that looked for all the world like a darning needle. How in the blazes they cut that eye in there! This was a really heads-up organization. [LAUGHTER] Interesting. Very interesting.
Franklin: Yeah, that was a very significant archaeological find.
Boice: I’ve got to go back some day and talk to that doctor. At an anniversary of something, we’re down here at Columbia Park, and he was talking and I showed up there with the historical society doing something-or-other. And I talked to him for about five minutes. He mentioned the fact that he wanted to see the guy that painted that elevation. I said, well, you’re looking at him. [LAUGHTER] It was—I got to go talk to him. Because one of the things in their report—they talked that the ditch was dug with a Cat. Now, I ain’t saying they’re wrong, because I didn’t see any digging when I was there. But just—as you’re going up and looking at a hole, and in those days we had looked at a bunch of holes—we were inspectors. They were going behind the soils guys. And it just to me had all the appearance of somebody that dug a ditch with a dragline. And I always figured it was a dragline in there, and somebody said it was a Cat. I don’t totally agree with him. But the bones were so interesting. They said that the one thing about the site was there had been somebody living on it forever. Just, the further down you went, the more primitive they became, ‘til you got past the layer of the Mazama ash, when Crater Lake blew its top. And they went past Mazama ash and suddenly things looked pretty sophisticated. That’s where the needle came from and a few other things. It was neat. I’d have liked to spend more time with them.
Franklin: Yeah. I’m sure you heard about the dam failing and the site flooding after they—because they created the protective dam around the shelter, and that failed and let water in.
Boice: It didn’t fail! The SOB was never built to hold! When they brought us down there to check these drill holes out, the drillers—we had other stuff to do that morning, and we didn’t get down there until 10:00. The driller had a half-a-dozen holes in. I’m talking to this old driller, and he says, they ain’t never gonna keep water out of that thing, because there’s a layer of palm wood down there and it’s gonna leak like a sieve. But they did it anyway. And we’re down there checking on settlement pins and a whole bunch of other stuff when the water’s coming up. But we’re all on the radio, and it’s like a big one-party line—you can hear what’s going on no matter where. And they’re putting in pumps, and the more pumps they put in, the more water they sprayed out, but noting changed. [LAUGHTER] So it’s a lovely fishing pond. But interesting: it was shortly thereafter that I quit the corps and went to Alaska. Within a year-and-a-half, two years, I’m up there doing the same thing, only instead of spotting holes in the ground, we’re spotting oil wells. And sitting in a warm-up shack, talking to a driller, and he made mention of the fact that they had spudded oil wells. Now, when they spud an oil well, they get in there with an oversized auger, like you’re setting telephone poles. And they go down there through the mud and the blood and the crud ‘til they get to solid rock. And then they bring in the drills. And he says, we have yet to spud a well here that we didn’t get palm wood. And that has always sat with me. Now, when they’re talking about global warming—if there has been palm trees growing at the mouth of the Palouse River, and palm trees growing at Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, it’s been a lot warmer than people are willing to talk about. [LAUGHTER] Just boggles my mind that there is palm wood in Alaska as well as Marmes Rockshelter.
Franklin: Wow, that’s really interesting. So you were—Marmes, then Alaska. When did you come to work for Vitro at Hanford?
Boice: That was a pretty short season. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: At Hanford, or in Alaska?
Boice: At Vitro. Oh, at Alaska I worked for various contractors. But Vitro—we didn’t philosophically match. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Ah.
Boice: Their minds were all inside the fence. And I’m too antagonistic. [LAUGHTER] If we had a problem—thou shalt not speak bad of Vitro. And we’re laying out penetrations on top of a tank. And they’re all done. Radius and angle—which radius is—and they had them at different stages there, and other people had been doing them. And this tank had been there for quite a—not quite a while, but every once in a while someone would come in and set some more holes, set some more holes. Well, they didn’t continue their circle around—nobody closed the circle. So by the time we get there ‘til the end, we have to figure out by adding up each and every hole all the way around the circle at every different radius to get the dimensions to where we’re at. Where if the guy had closed out his circle, you could have backed him out and been out of there in about a tenth the time. So I happened to make the statement, I said, Vitro drafting strikes again. And I was a marked man. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: How long in total, then, did you work out on the Hanford site?
Boice: Well, in ’56-’57, or ’57-’58, they were doing a lot of military work out there. And we did the roads up Rattlesnake—was in on that. The road up Saddle Mountain. A lot of RADAR sites. You’re aware of the Nike sites on—
Franklin: Yup.
Boice: --the north side of the river over there?
Franklin: Yup.
Boice: Been there, done that. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: So—that wasn’t for Vitro, was that when you were with—
Boice: That was the Corps.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: And we also did a lot of work up at Moses Lake.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: All the runway extensions up there, we were in on. They throwed us in the clink. They did not like our very presence.
Franklin: Why?
Boice: Apparently Moses Lake had two different structures. There was the Strategic Air Command structure up there, and there was the Military Air Transport Service. I didn’t know the difference. Les was—we were doing some mapping work. And the three of us were just gonna run some levels out to the next site we were gonna work at. And we took off the BM—benchmark—at the control tower. And we get about two turns out across the flight line there. And a bunch of guys come out, like a changing of the guard or something. Two or three of them stopped to talk to Kirby and George. The other five come out along, and they walked, just formed a circle around me, and they wanted to know if I wanted to go with them. They had submachine guns and a whole bunch of other stuff, and I said, heck, there’s nothing I’d rather do! [LAUGHTER] So they called up Walla Walla and they verified our existence. Then we had to go through security and get badges to—and we’d been working on that thing off-and-on for months. But we just hadn’t stepped in the right zone.
Franklin: Oh, wow.
Boice: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: They were just kind of waiting for you, then, to—
Boice: Just different—different bunch of stuff.
Franklin: Right. When you were in school in Kennewick, so after the—or even just after the word was out about the Hanford site, after August 6th, 1945, when you were in school, did they teach anything about Hanford history? Was it—
Boice: Go back to August 6th.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: What a day. [EMOTIONAL] What a wonderful day! I’d been down at the Village Theater—now the Richland Theater. I don’t even remember what was playing. But we came out, [EMOTIONAL] and the bells were ringing. The church down there, they were ringing their bells. And everybody was whooping it up—the war was over! And I’ll never forget, some gal in there alongside the street, she had half a dozen kids with garbage can lids and a parade going, and they’re banging and clanging. And the festivities that the war was over. And then we went back and they came out with the thing and Truman said, It’s the Atomic Bomb, and that’s what we’ve been building. And Mom went over and talked to the lady next door. She mentioned the U-235. And the gal says, they didn’t talk about that, did they? And she’d been keeping files, and her husband had been working on it. And neither of them would ever admit that they knew what the other one was doing. It was that tight. And the security in Richland. The FBI knew everybody in town, because it was not uncommon—it was a regular thing that they would come around and they would talk to you, and ask about him. And then they’d go talk to him and ask about you. It was just—it was what was going on. We didn’t know why. Well, after that—yeah, after it came out what was going on out there, then we knew what was there. But until Truman come out and said, here’s what was going on, we didn’t know.
Franklin: What about V-J Day? Was that a separate kind of a big celebration?
Boice: Yeah.
Franklin: Was that as big as the news of the bomb drop? Or was the bomb drop more of a pivotal moment here in the—
Boice: Well, the V-J Day, the end of the war, was the big day. That’s the celebration that I’ll never forget.
Franklin: Can you talk about it?
Boice: June—you heard about Harry Truman, didn’t you? When he come out to Hanford?
Franklin: No.
Boice: [LAUGHTER] The head of security was a guy by the name of McHale. And Dad worked pretty close with him with the fire department because everything was safety and security and if you had a problem, see McHale. Now, the guy had taken—he was pretty much high up in intelligence—but he had assumed the position of a first sergeant. And Sarge McHale was the guy. No matter what happened, Sarge McHale. Harry Truman did a fantastic job, and made his reputation just going from plant to plant—the Truman Investigating Committee, cutting down waste. And I guess he did a heck of a job. But he come out to Hanford and demanded to be let in.
Franklin: Sorry, was this when he was Vice President or President?
Boice: He was a senator!
Franklin: Senator—Senator Harry Truman. Okay.
Boice: And he comes there and demands to be let in. And of course, the guard says, McHale! And McHale comes over there and meets him head-on. He says, I’m Senator Truman, and I demand to be let in. McHale says, I don’t give a damn if you’re President of the United States; you ain’t coming in here. And he didn’t. Well, years later, and I believe it was when they were dedicating the Elks Club in Pasco, Truman was back up in this area. And he was President. And he come out to Hanford and he looked up McHale. And he said, uh-huh, you son of a bitch, you didn’t think I’d make ‘er, did ya? [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Wow. That’s a great story. [LAUGHTER] But thank you. So after the war was over, was what went on at Hanford taught in school? Was there mention of the work at Hanford that built the bomb? Was that part of the curriculum here in town?
Boice: The local lore.
Franklin: The local lore, but nothing in the school at all?
Boice: Not that I recall.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: Everything was—there was a terrific amount of pride. The Atomic City, the atomic this, the atomic that. The first barber shop quartet come to town, when GE left—no, DuPont left, GE come in, four guys come in from Schenectady, New York with a barber shop quartet. First ones I ever saw. And they were the Atomic City Four. And the next one were the Nuclear Notes. [LAUGHTER] But there was an atomic pride, all over the area. Then there was the people that thought we should be ashamed of it. That we had built this device that killed a whole bunch of people.
Franklin: Now, were these people in the community? Or people outside?
Boice: Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.
Franklin: And this was right at the time—
Boice: Oh, no, no, no. This is--
Franklin: Later?
Boice: Last week? [LAUGHTER] Last few years ago, yeah.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: I got my—I’m still behind Hanford.
Franklin: Okay.
Boice: Screwed up and all. Back to Vitro for a little bit. Like I say, they were—the organization that literally purchased and built the city of Richland—now, at that time I was flying, and I was flying out of the Richland airport. And there was an old geezer out there called Norm. Norm flew the bench. He was always on the bench out in front of the airport, there. And if somebody just going up to burn up some hours or play, why, Norm was willing to go along. I saw Norm and I hauled him around and then I went back to work for Vitro. And Pritchard brought this guy through—it was Norm! Norm had been the head of real estate when the entire city of Richland and the whole Hanford Project was bought. He was in charge of it. And he retired and trained his successor, who died. And he trained the next guy, who died. So they had Norm on a retainer. Just to ride dirt on real estate. Quite an interesting character!
Franklin: Yeah, I bet. I think I’d kind of like to return about something we were just talking about a minute ago, where you were talking about people that—especially in the later years that have been critical of Hanford. I’d like to get more of your feelings on that. On how you feel about that, or kind of what part of their argument or their viewpoint that you don’t agree with.
Boice: They were talking about—well, first there was the Richland High School and their bomb insignia. It was felt that they were making a big deal or prideful about this terrible event. And I always go back to a group from Japan that came over and were very critical of Richland for the same thing. And the gentleman who was interviewing them or was talking to them, when they got done, informed them in no uncertain terms, that we were invited very unceremoniously into that war, and we’re sorry if you didn’t like the way we ended it. [LAUGHTER] You get to researching, I’d like to bring up, why didn’t they drop the bomb on Tokyo? Because there was nothing left on Tokyo to injure. If you read about Curt LeMay and the Strategic Air Command and the bombing of Japan, he had eliminated that thing down to—the B-29 was supposed to be a high altitude bomber. And it wasn’t as great at it as it was advertised to be. But they had eliminated the defenses. And they made the B-29 into a low-level trucking company, and they were just hauling stuff over and unloading it. And the firebombing of Tokyo—the movies they showed us in the Air Force was something to behold. I mean, they—it was so much worse than what happened at Nagasaki or Hiroshima, either one. He was told to save two or three targets—clean targets. And when they come over there with the bombs, then they used these clean targets and saw what they could do. Of the four devices—the four nuclear devices, we used—was it four or three in World War II?
Franklin: Are you referring to—
Boice: All but one of them came from Hanford.
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: The first one at Los Alamos was plutonium. And then Hiroshima was Oak Ridge.
Franklin: Yup.
Boice: And then Nagasaki was plutonium.
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: But there’s those that—and there were at the time, there was a big discussion on, should we demonstrate to them what this thing could do? And the big argument was, what if it doesn’t do? What if you drop it and it don’t do nothing? [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Interesting. Can you speak to—or do you remember anything about the Civil Rights era in the Tri-Cities?
Boice: [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: There were reports of—you know, it’s known that Kennewick was kind of a sun-down town, and that many minorities were forced to live in East Pasco. And that during the war—
[NEW CLIP]
Franklin: There had been a sizable African American population at Hanford, but that after the war many of them left. So I was wondering if you could speak to the Civil Rights action you might have seen or you might have observed or anything in the Tri-Cities?
Boice: Well, I was up in Lewiston when their civil rights march come through. But it was well-advertised. People knew what was gonna happen. And I was at the hardware store, and there’s a black cement finisher I’d worked with building houses in Pasco. I says, Leroy! You gonna come march on Kennewick? He said, [AFFECTED DIALECT] shee-it. I wantsta live in Kennewick just about as bad as you wantsta live in East Pasco. [LAUGHTER] They had a march on Kennewick—a bunch of people that—I am told, because I was living in Lewiston, and I was in Lewiston at the time. But there’s a group out of Seattle and a group out of Portland come up to Pasco, and they marched across the bridge. They marched down Avenue C, up Washington Street, down Kennewick Avenue. And Kennewick yawned. Nobody particularly cared. They got to the Methodist church, and the groups come out and says, you look hot. Come on in and have some lemonade. They sat down at the church, had lemonade and went home. And that was the civil rights march in Kennewick. But there is—when I was there growing up, there were no blacks in Kennewick. There were blacks in Pasco, and there were no blacks in Richland. With the exception—the guy that run the shoeshine parlor at Ganzel’s barbershop lived in the basement, and they tell me that there was two black porters at the Hanford House. And that was the total black population of Richland.
Franklin: Wow.
Boice: But they were not welcome in Kennewick. It wasn’t that big a deal when I was walking down Kennewick Avenue when a couple of black guys—they were bums, hobos—come walking down Main Street, you might as well say. And a cop pulled up and says, the railroad tracks are two blocks down that way. They go east and west. Either one will get you out of town. And they went to the railroad track. I always figured that the blacks wanted to move to Kennewick because they couldn’t stand to live next to the blacks in Pasco. [LAUGHTER] And if you want to get right down to it, well, all that hooping and hollering they do right now, you go down to Fayette, Mississippi, which is 98.645% black, and all the blacks in Mississippi can live in Fayette and nobody cares. Go down to Van Horn, Texas, which is all Mexicans, and they can all live in Van Horn, Texas, and nobody cares. But you let half a dozen white guys go up in Ruby Ridge, Idaho, and they just have yourself a storm. Why, these are a bunch of white separatists! If everybody else can live together, why can’t the whites?
Franklin: Interesting. Some might say they were kind of starting a separatist movement up there, I think—claiming their own territory, and—
Boice: So what?
Franklin: Well, living together communally is often different from claiming that you don’t—aren’t subject to the law, the jurisdiction of the United States.
Boice: Nobody said that they weren’t subject to the law.
Franklin: Well--
Boice: They kept trying to integrate Prudhoe, but he kept getting cold and going home.
Franklin: Oh, in Alaska?
Boice: Yeah!
Franklin: Yeah.
Boice: They had a heck of a time keeping Prudhoe integrated. Because them black people do not like cold weather! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: I don’t think a lot of people like cold weather.
Boice: It was a big joke when we went down south there, to work at Savannah River. Because—hell, we’d come out of here and it was Thanksgiving. It was cold. We got down there, of course, if you’re traveling you’re gonna get nightshift. We left having the cold weather here at night down there. And I says, that’s okay, you’ll get yours come summertime when it heats up. But surprisingly—and I was really surprised that they didn’t take the hot weather any better than we did. I mean, it was miserably hot, but they were just as big a problem as a rest of us.
Franklin: I imagine it’s quite a bit more humid down there, though, with the—when it gets hot, you know. Because the heat with the humidity is—
Boice: Yeah, it is.
Franklin: --much worse than the dry heat.
Boice: Yeah, yeah.
Franklin: Is there anything that we haven’t talked about that you’d like to mention? Or any question I haven’t asked you that you think I should—
Boice: I don’t know what it would be. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Yeah, we’ve really gone—really jumped all over the place. It’s been great. Anyone else have any questions?
Hungate: No, the only question—you said you’d done some work with the railroad. What railroad?
Boice: Name one. [LAUGHTER]
Hungate: All railroads? Union Pacific, all the different--?
Boice: Yes. Right now they’re talking about the oil trains, and their problems with them tipping over? I wonder how long it’s gonna take them to get to the problem. In the beginning, railroads were 39-foot rails bolted together. Measured mile after mile after mile of it. Then in about, oh, the middle ‘60s—’67, thereabouts, ’66—when they were putting in the SP&S, that’s now the BN—the Burlington Northern on the Washington side. They went with quarter-mile steel. And the first question that we had as surveyors—because you’re constantly working with the expansion and contraction of steel—was how are they going to control that in long rails? Because if you’re working on railroads very long, first thing you realize is do not sit on the joints in a hot day. You get your butt pinched! [LAUGHTER] When those tracks expand. So we brought this up and the first thing they told us was, well, they’ve got special steel and it’s only going to expand sideways. Well, that story lasted about as long as it took when they started putting it together. Because when they started—they’d set up a factory down here, if you’ll call it that. Brought in 39-foot un-punched rail, and just rolled her off, welded her together and ground down the joints and put her in quarter-mile sections. They were very particular when they put it in at the temperature that they laid that down on, where before—you know what a creeper is? Okay, it’s a kind of a hairpin device that you put over the rail so that it will slide less. But in the old days, the 39-foot rail very seldom saw any creepers. When they put that quarter-mile steel together, you saw a lot of creepers. Now they have gone to ribbon rail. They welded the quarter-mile steel together. You drive down to Portland, and you look at that rail, and you’re gonna go a long ways before you see a joint. There at Quinton and Washman’s dip—which don’t mean a thing to you guys—[LAUGHTER] about a mile post from 120-whatever, they have got a creeper on each—alongside of each and every tie. I mean, they were using creepers like they were going out of style. To me, the expansion’s the thing that they got to worry about, but then they should have figured this out because they’re running it. But it’s a factor. You got to factor it in when you’re doing a pipeline, when you’re doing a railroad. When we were doing the pipeline, Maurice Smith of British Petroleum, who was the head pipeline engineer, I had lunch with him. [LAUGHTER] It ain’t like we sit down at a specified lunch—he dropped in at the chow hall I was eating and sat down at our table. So we got to talking about it. And that was the question I brought up, was how are you going to handle the expansion in the steel? And he says—he admitted it was a heck of a problem. And that you got to run as many Ss as you can so that it’ll take up and accordion itself. And when you’ve got a long straight stretch, it’s gonna give you problems. [LAUGHTER] Because it’s gonna go someplace. And that’s the thing that—after they started the quarter-mile steel, a couple of years later, we had a hot summer. The article in the Tri-City Herald called it the long, hot summer, where we had over 90 days of over 90-degree weather. But they were cutting chunks out of that railroad to keep her on the road bed. And at that time, when the SP&S was having these problems, the UP was laughing at them. They said, we tried this stuff in Wyoming. It didn’t work. And they’re using 39-foot stuff, and it was just whistling down the road. But now I see that they’re using the ribbon rail like everybody else. I can’t see how it’s gonna work, but the they’re doing it. [LAUGHTER] It ain’t my role! [LAUGHTER] The other one was the Camas Prairie. And that starts out, oh, about ten miles above Ice Harbor Dam, thereabouts, breaks loose, and goes clear up past Lewiston, up into Grangeville, Idaho. That’s a crazy little river.
Franklin: That’s the one that they filmed that Charles Bronson movie.
Boice: Breakheart Pass?
Franklin: Breakheart Pass, yeah.
Boice: Yeah, that was done up there. You get into railroad history—this area is knee-deep in it. Vollard was the great character in that. He started out with a little portage railroad around Idaho Falls and that area. And then he got the Walla Walla line—I call it the WWWWW&WWW line—Walla Walla, Waitsburg, Washtucna and Washington Wail Woad—which was a money maker. But he ended up getting a lineup from Portland out here. And then when they started building the Northern Pacific, they were building from both ends, and he was hauling Northern Pacific rail over his tracks and taking it out in railroad stock. By the time they got connected over in Montana, he owned a sizable chunk of the railroad. [LAUGHTER] And it was—you get into that railroad history, and it’s just takeover checkers. [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: Great. Well, thank you so much, George.
Boice: Okay! [LAUGHTER]
Franklin: It was a pleasure talking to you. And, yeah, thanks for coming in today.
Boice: All righty. Write if you find work! [LAUGHTER]
Douglas O’Reagan: Okay. To start us off, will you please pronounce and spell your name for us?
David Carson: Hi. My name is David Carson, D-A-V-I-D, C-A-R-S-O-N.
O’Reagan: Okay, thank you. My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral history interview here on April 29th, 2016. The interview is being conducted on the campus on Washington State University Tri-Cities. I’ll be speaking with Mr. Carson about his experiences working on the Hanford Site and living in the Tri-Cities community. Well, thanks for being here. Could you tell us first just a little bit about your life leading up to either moving into the Tri-Cities or starting working at Hanford?
Carson: I was born here in Richland at Kadlec in May of 1958. Grew up here, went through all the Richland schools—Spalding and Carmichael, and—I can still call it Col High because I went there then. Went off to college, met my wife. We were biology majors, and about the time that we graduated and were looking for jobs, Battelle, who at the time had a huge biology program, they lost most all their contracts. So that just evaporated. My wife managed to get on with Battelle a couple months after we were married. But it took me over six months before I finally got a break and got hired on at N Reactor as an operator. My--
O’Reagan: And that would have been ’81?
Carson: That was in March of 1981. My parents had moved here in the spring of 1951 with my brother and sister. I was a 16-year mistake, so they’re a lot older. But they moved here in ’51. They lived in the trailer camp up north. My brother and sister went to Ball Elementary, for example. In ’53 they were able to buy a ranch house on Cedar Street, and that’s where I grew up. My dad was a fireman. Eventually became a lieutenant and then a captain. My mom was a secretary and then executive secretary. She was one of the very first certified professional secretaries onsite, and did a great deal to spread that program and bring skills and professionalism throughout all of her parts of the work. For years, she worked here—for over 35 years, a couple years longer than my dad, actually. So I’m about as Richland-born-and-bred and Hanford-centered as you could hope to ask for. When I got hired on at N Reactor, I started—as so many people in operations did—back in the fuels department. We called it back, because it was in the back part of the building. It was both the front and the back of the process. So back there, we made up the charges of reactor fuel for charging into the reactor. After that went in, the old fuel was discharged. We also took care of that out in the storage basin. So that was—I started in late March ’81, I was in fuels for six months. I always knew that I wanted to move up into the control room. So after six months, in September of ’81, I moved up front to reactor operations, not fuels operations. Started out as—everyone was referred to sort of shorthand as paygrade. A plain reactor operator was a Grade 18. So I was a Grade 18. That’s where you begin learning the basics of the job. You learn how to take building patrol and what all the readings mean and how to take them correctly. Because you have to go around the whole building twice a shift and check on running equipment, take readings, make sure things aren’t breaking or whatever. Then you start learning more of the jobs, from housekeeping—there were some specialized parts of that. Doing laundry—there was specialized parts to that, because it was—you were dealing with radioactive clothing, so contamination control, you learn that a lot. All the different functions during charge/discharge. This was the time, in the early part of the Reagan Administration when they changed over to once again producing weapons-grade plutonium. It was called the 6% program. Weapons-grade plutonium is judged on how much plutonium-240 has grown into it. If you have more than 6%--PU-240 is a big neutron absorber, so it does not create a nuclear explosive as well. It poisons reactions. So the less of that you have, the less you have to work to separate it out and get just the PU-239 that you want. So changing to the 6% program meant that they were doing charge/discharges a little more than twice as often. Plus, a lot of the maintenance had been let go. For many years they’d been in power only, since the end of the Nixon Administration. And that was something of a coup, to let in startup just to produce electricity through the Hanford Generating Project number 1 that was run by Washington Public Power Supply System. We sent our steam to them over across the fence. We didn’t have anything to do with that, except send steam, get back water. So there was a lot of upgrades going on throughout the whole reactor plant. The reactor plant—we called it the power side, where the steam that we made as we cooled off the primary loop was used to drive turbines that drove the primary pumps that circulated the water. A lot of that equipment was also repaired, upgraded. It took a while to really get up on plane and start operating smoothly again. A lot of operators came in right around within a year or so of the time I did, and four or five reactor-operator certification classes’ worth. They would take about 15 people at a time, and you would run through about a year-long program to learn everything from fundamentals, which was basic math, basic chemistry, basic nuclear science, up through the specifics of the systems in the reactor and how they interacted, how you operated them safely, what you didn’t want to do, what you did do, the reasons behind all that. It got pretty complex. You had to take three tests to become certified. First, after the first couple sessions of classroom training, they would pull us off our shifts. We worked a four-shift rotating shift at the time. Pulled us off our shifts, put us on day shift in the classroom for chunks of time. We’d go back when there were outages, because they needed bodies. When you finished your first couple of sessions of classroom training, there was the written exam, which is called the eight-hour. And it really is. It was almost 50 pages. I finished it in about six-and-a-half hours. I used up an entire pen. Just as I was finishing writing the essay on the last page, the pen died. And I looked at it—it was clear, and there was no ink left. So after you passed your eight-hour, you got a bump. You were then called a Grade 21, and a lot more of your training was real-time in the control room. You would sit on consoles with the other operators, and they would help guide you. You’d get some hands-on time. You’d learn more about that part of the job. After several months, and some more classroom training, you had an examination called the demo, where one of the instructors would come over and they would walk you around the control room and just start asking questions. Your job was to answer the questions, point at stuff, look things up in books—prove that you knew where it all was, what it all meant, what it all did. When you passed your demo, then you went into the final, more intensive part of classroom training to get ready for your oral board. Pass the eight-hour, pass the demo, train some more, then you sat an oral board, in which there were people from operations, engineering, nuclear safety, training, and sometimes somebody else would sit in. I don’t know why, but they did. So once you passed your oral board, you were considered certified—a Grade 23. But you still didn’t get turned loose yet. You still had to have guided time in the control room. You had to do a certain number of evolutions. You had to do so many startups, so many shutdowns, be in on so many scrams, do a little of this and a little of that, until your shift manager, after watching you and talking to the other operators, figured you were ready. So then, one day they say, okay, you’re free and clear. And your certificate went up on the wall with your name on it saying that you were a certified reactor operator, and you got thrown in. And then you really started to learn the job. Because all this stuff was suddenly no longer even partially theory. It was all real.
O’Reagan: How many reactor operators were there at a time, roughly, who were licensed?
Carson: It went up and down. Each shift was required to have at least four in the control room when you were operating. Typically, during this time in the ‘80s, every shift had seven or eight certified operators, and as many as a dozen Grade 18s—the ones who didn’t want to get into the certification program, who did other stuff around the plant. Because there was always stuff to do, if nothing else—housekeeping, stocking the laundry, and sweeping the floors. We had a schedule that came up every month and you rotated through different jobs in the control room. At the N control room, there was three major parts. There was a nuclear console, where you actually ran the reactor itself. We manually controlled the rod positions and manually monitored the power level and the flux where the neutron cloud was going up or down in the reactor. You wanted to keep that still and stable. You didn’t want it to cycle, because that can get—create stresses, if one part of the reactor’s really hot while this one back here is cold, it stresses—increases the fatigue and the chances for the failure of something. So you wanted to keep it nice and steady. We had instrumentation. We had—the only computer display we had was of temperatures. That was probably the main one, and the charts that showed how the neutron flux was changing. You wanted to keep all the lines straight. There was two of you, and you rotated on the nuke console every two hours—two hours on, two hours off. You’d get breaks and stuff while you were off. The double-A console controlled all of the primary loop and its interface with the secondary loop. That’s where you controlled the drive turbine speeds that drove the primary pumps to circulate the coolant. That’s where you controlled the primary loop pressure, the level of it, the emergency backup stuff—you were responsible for that. So you had this whole corner of the control room and panels that were your responsibility. The third part controlled the secondary loop—that’s the side—the primary loop went into the tubes of heat exchangers and it boiled the water on the shell of the heat exchanger—the steam generators. So that steam went up into the steam header. A lot of it went over to WPPSS. Some of it went down to drive our turbines. We also had a turbine generator of our own in the boiler building that was our onsite power source. You took care of the secondary loop there—its level, its pressure, the way it was. There was also a lot of other things that that operator did—rupture monitoring was at that panel, because N Reactor did not have a containment; it had a confinement. It was designed in 1958, went critical in ’63. They didn’t build—I guess they couldn’t at the time yet—build a full containment to keep everything in. It was designed that if there was a tube rupture and you had a big burst of superheated steam, that would vent. So we had to keep our primary loop really, really clean. And that’s what the rupture monitor was. If you saw signs that the fuel element in one of the 1,003 process tubes was beginning to release uranium into the water, you’d shut down and push that tube right away. There was also a system specifically for cooling the graphite. N Reactor, like the other old Hanford reactors, was called graphite-moderated. It used very pure graphite in a big block with complex passages through it. The neutrons, when they would leave the fissioned uranium atom, would go out and bounce around in that graphite before they found their way back into fuel, slowed way down, so that they could cause another fission. Modern power reactors use the water, the coolant, as a moderator. We used the solid graphite. We had a system to cool that specifically. So that operator took care of that. Also, the gas system, we circulated helium through the core when we’re operating, because at full power, 4,000 megawatts thermal, the temperature in the center of the core was 600, 700, 800 degrees in places, Fahrenheit. Pure graphite—you don’t want any air or water, anything that’s going to react with it at those temperatures. So we used the helium—you had to control that, too. And there’s other miscellaneous stuff, but you had to learn all of this, and you learned all of the classroom stuff, but just like anything, you really learned by doing, where it becomes second nature. The wonderful part about working it in was my shift—I was a little unusual in that I was assigned to one shift at the beginning, C shift, and I stayed on that shift my whole nine years there. Other people would move around, sometimes involuntarily. But I managed to stay on C shift all the time. It’s such a wonder and a joy when you can become that tight of a team to where you knew exactly how any individual’s going to react in a given situation. You don’t even need full words to communicate. We would have entire conversations in acronyms and shorthand. And we—stuff happened and we would ride it out and just—scary as heck, but—when it was over, you knew that the team had just really done its work like it’s supposed to. So that was always—that was a good feeling.
O’Reagan: Could you give us an example of one of these acronym exchanges?
Carson: Oh. Oh, it’s— What’s the HPIP delta P? 18. Okay, we need that up to 50. So—I’ve lost a lot of that.
O’Reagan: Sure.
Carson: But as in any installation, every piece has a name. It has typically an official name that meets a standard of naming from an engineering organization, it has the name that it’s normally referred to as, and it has an acronym. Sometimes it might have an even shorter shorthand name that your crew comes up with that you all know what it is, but you also know all the others as well. In a situation where something has begun to get out of line, out of normal--it’s not a crisis, but it’s something that you have to pay attention to and deal with right away—you need to transfer information as quickly and as clearly as possible. And that was how that was done, with shorthand acronyms that everyone knew exactly what you were saying; they could anticipate what you were about to say. So you could get other people to take particular actions absolutely as quickly as possible, and they could get you, by what they said back, to do your actions properly.
O’Reagan: Could you walk us through a one specific scram or other sort of stressful event?
Carson: I was there in the control room one night when—I believe it was thunderstorms hit a main distribution power line—a 230-kilovolt lines coming from the dams—that happened to be online as our offsite power. Lightning hit one of those transmission lines and caused a power surge that tripped open the breakers at the substation. Offsite power was called A bus. Onsite power was B bus. You needed them active and separated up from 13.8-kilovolt where it came into the reactor, all the way down to 12-volt DC instrument power. You couldn’t have any connection between those two, because that could conceivably cause a fault that would stop the reactor from scramming if it needed to. So they powered everything, but some things were powered more by one bus or one by another. This is one of the main things that we trained for, was a power loss. Of course, if you lose one of your electrical buses, that’s one of the automatic reactor scram trips—there was 23 of them. So the reactor scrammed, and everything’s going along about like you’d expect for a power loss from one bus. Everything’s already prepared and set up to take the proper actions automatically, so you have to monitor those and adjust as necessary. Then all of a sudden, there was some kind of electrical fault in our B bus, our onsite power, which was still online. It tripped off. It was B bus—I believe I’m saying this right—B bus powered the lights in the control room. So you knew if those lights went on, you’d lost B bus as well. Now, if you lost both buses at the same time, that was an automatic trip onto emergency cooling, which for N Reactor was very large, high-pressured diesel pumps would pump water. Valves would open at the inlet and outlet of the reactor and it would change to a once-through. We had a series of water tanks with demin[eralized] water, filtered water and sanitary water. And then through some mechanisms, it would trip all the way to river water. If it was known that if you ever tripped over onto emergency cooling, the thermal shock—because the water was kept hot, but it wasn’t as hot as the reactor—the thermal shock could basically destroy the reactor. And that would be over. Nothing you could do at that point as far as keeping the reactor as an operating reactor in the future. So luckily, A bus had actually come back online just seconds before B bus went off. Then B bus came back, so the lights came back on, and then we lost A bus again. Because the whole BPA network was still having ripples and things. And then it came back up and then we lost B bus again. So when each of these things is happening, there’s stuff you have to do, depending on what it was. We’re running back and forth, trying to do that, and it got really tense. But all that training, you stopped really thinking—just all the training in your brainstem took over and you started doing what you needed to do and communicating in just those short, almost little digital blips of information so that everyone knew what you were doing, and you knew what they were doing and you knew what everybody had to do and that they were doing it. So things got pretty terse in the control room right there. As the buses kept coming up and down, it would reset off hundreds of enunciators and we didn’t have time to try and figure out what the overall cause was; we were just still fighting to keep the reactor from tripping on to emergency cooling. So eventually, we got both buses back and stable and we could continue with our—then it became just a regular post-scram shutdown. The cool-down of the reactor, changing things to work slightly different ways here and there throughout the plant. Then you sit back and giggle and get the shakes a little bit. Everybody talked real loud and real fast for a while, you know? [LAUGHTER] So—just some stressful things like that. Any unexpected scram made you a little tense, a little puckery. Because you didn’t know what happened. We had big CRT monitors mounted up by the nuclear and the double-A console that were tied into an electronic alarm system that they would record all of the enunciators. There were—I think I heard the number once—it was 1,400 different enunciators in the control room. When one of those went off, it sent a signal to this alarm system that put the ID of them in a buffer memory. They would display up in the CRTs. Well, when you scram, you got 400 enunciators within two or three seconds. So all you could see on the screen was the first eight or so. So you didn’t know what was going on. You just had to deal with what you were supposed to do and trust that no further catastrophe was going to happen, and just be ready for it if it did. When the reactor was running smoothly, we called it at equilibrium, when we had not changed power by more than 5% in 72 hours. That was sometimes hard to keep your focus, because all the lines are running straight on the charts, and it’s graveyard, nobody wants to talk, and you’ve all told all your stories a dozen times, and nothing much to say. So you’re sitting, waiting, watching. So like the quote about war, hours of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror. Not as terror-filled as they might be, because we were trained and experienced in most stuff. Sometimes—there was always the possibility that sometimes something could happen that was really untoward, really out of the way, that could be really dangerous, really a disaster.
O’Reagan: How much of working in the control room was sort of judgment or sort of work of art as opposed to a sort of objective do-the-next-thing?
Carson: Actually quite a bit of it. One of the things that you developed as you gained experience as an operator—we called it getting stick time. When you started getting enough hours on a console and really starting to figure out how everything actually did work, you developed a feel, just from watching how all the different parts of the console you were on interacted. You got a feel if something was maybe not right, if something started looking a little jittery or a little bit out of its normal range that you wanted. Then you’d have to figure out, what little tweak can I make? Because everything was running in automatic, but you could always make small corrections. What little tweak could I make, given what I know about that that’s going on, that would make it better? And you developed what I always called a touch. Because you didn’t just go up and start twisting stuff. You really—with some instruments, some controllers—some control loops more than others—you didn’t want to put any very large change into it at all, because it was so sensitive. In the action that that controller would take, the input back to, say, the primary loop from changing the speed of one of the makeup injection pumps could just suddenly—if you did too much by accident, you could scram the reactor. Or you could cause it to lose pressure, which would scram the reactor another way. So getting to really develop that unconscious feel, similar to the way that when you’re driving and you pull into a parking lot or a real narrow street, you can actually feel with your body where the corners of your fenders are. It’s developing that kind of feel for a huge complex machine that was really what brought you into being a really good, competent operator. Some folks had it on some systems more than others. The older operators who’d been at it forever, it was just completely unconscious with them. That was just the way they did things was smooth and easy, and you don’t just jump in and start fiddling with stuff. You always think it through before you touch anything. And then when you touch it, you touch it very gently and make the changes as slow and small as you can to get the result that you want.
O’Reagan: So you worked there through the closing of N Reactor, is that right?
Carson: Yes.
O’Reagan: How much did that change over the course, before you got to the closing? Was it—job change a lot over that time?
Carson: While we were still operating—regular operation—it didn’t change that much. Some new things were put in, but overall they didn’t really affect us much. You had to deal with failures. For example, when the reactor was operating, the water circulated through five steam generator cells. We had six, so one was always out of service for maintenance or repairs or whatever, and you operated with five. Well, one of the cells was undergoing a total refit—a total reconditioning. And then another one of the cells, the primary pump developed some problems that were going to require a rebuild. So the decision was made to go ahead and operate at a reduced power level with only four cells online. That took a lot of adjustments. They had to come up with temporary limits that we had to learn and follow. Some of the procedures changed slightly for that temporary period to take into account the fact that you had a lower capacity and a lower rate of heat removal. So just dealing with a change like that, and then that begins to feel normal. And then they bring another cell back online. So you’re back to the way it was that used to be normal, but you have to kind of reset yourself to working that way. Limits were really the main thing we paid attention to as we were operating. All of the nuclear industry—and N Reactor, certainly, they really drilled this into us—it operates in defense of depth. You don’t ever have just a single barrier to something causing an accident. I called it a box-in-a-box-in-a-box-in-a-box-in-a-box. There’s the actual strength of the machine, at what pressures or temperatures will it break because the materials just physically can’t take it. So that’s your outermost limit that you never, ever, ever got close to. Inside of that was your technical specifications that protected this outer box. Inside the technical specifications were the process standards that protected the technical specification limits. Inside the process standards were your operating limits that protect—you never wanted to break a process standard, because you’d have to have an investigation and figure out why that happened and everything. And sometimes there were even special limits inside the operating limits that were even more restrictive. So those limits changed over time, but that was just part of the job. You had to get used to the new ways things were, and just live with it, because that’s the way it was. They taught us why the change was made, and what it meant, and that this was the new limits here and here and here. That’s the kind of stuff we went through during our continuous training. After you’re certified, the training cycle had all the operators, shift by shift, when they would roll around on dayshift, you would have training days. And every two years, you went through the entire certification curriculum again, from fundamentals through reactor operations, through system interactions—all of it, every two years. We had to take a recertification exam every quarter. So every three months you had a job jeopardy examination to keep on top of stuff. So that’s how all that was communicated to us and incorporated into the way we worked and the way things were operated and handled. As we got past the Chernobyl accident, some people knew right away, that was the death knell for N. A lot of us were still optimistic that the differences were so clear and plain and could be explained, and we could continue. They had plans for upgrading some of our equipment to allow the reactor to run for another 20 years, they said. [SIGH] Didn’t turn out that way. So much political fire came down on all of the DoE complex, but Hanford especially. I don’t know if you remember, at the time, we had a senator who was 100% anti-Hanford. I spoke at the time when South Carolina had three senators and we had one. Because he worked as hard as he could to send all the work, all the waste, all the everything to Savannah River, so that it wouldn’t be at Hanford. I’m just griping now, but—it ended up, it was January 7th, 1997 at 07:31 that the reactor was shut down for the last time. It was going to be for an upgrade. They were going to put in a control room habitability system that did actually get put in, and it worked. It was for a time if there was ever a large release from the reactor, we could have sealed up the control room and lived on recirculated air and supplies for up to two weeks. They put that in. There was another big upgrade. Because of the hydrogen bubble that developed inside the reactor at Three Mile Island from water being split by high temperatures and the presence of metal into hydrogen and oxygen. And the hydrogen formed a big bubble that could have—in very, very small circumstances—could have ignited or exploded. They were worried about hydrogen inside the reactor and power buildings at N. So they were putting in a hydrogen mitigation system that would have been able to take all of the hydrogen evolved from the entire quantity of water in the primary loop. If it all split and turned into hydrogen and oxygen, this system could have recombined the hydrogen and taken away the explosive potential. So we all hoped that, yeah, we were going to get these upgrades and we’d be able to start up again and keep going for a while longer. But we never did. So the people who could leave right away did. But the end of ’97, we’d lost a lot of the real sharp engineers and some of the top people in operations. And then as the years went on, and became more and more clear that there was no future for the reactor, more and more people drifted away. I eventually, in late ’89, I took a temporary upgrade to write layup procedures for the reactor. At the time, they were going to keep it in—well, it went through a whole series. It was going to be on cold standby, where the fuel would still be in the reactor; we would still recirculate the loop, but we wouldn’t operate. We would just maintain it ready to operate if we needed it. Then it was going to turn to dry standby, where the reactor would be defueled and we would circulate dry pure air through all of the piping throughout the plant to keep the corrosion away so that if we needed to restart, we could refuel and restart. So that was one of the big procedures that I took the upgrade to write, was the whole valve lineup to establish that flow path from the 24-inch primary and secondary loop main valves, all the way down to the ¼ inch instrument root valves. I had to find every single one and lay out how they were going to be opened, in what sequence. I also wrote a bunch of other procedures. That’s where I first started learning how to write procedures. But at the end of the six months, they did not want to keep me on there permanent, doing that. And I sure didn’t want to go back to operations, which was by that time two years after the reactor had been shut down, almost three. I could just feel the IQ dribble out my ears, because you can only sweep the same floor so many times. Once the reactor was defueled, there wasn’t a whole lot of anything to do.
O’Reagan: How many people were still on doing that kind of work?
Carson: Probably about half the number that we’d had at the peak days. Because you didn’t need as many operators to do what we were doing. So people were going to various places. A lot of people went from there over to the K Basins, to deal with the stored fuel. Some of them are still there, dealing, now, just with the sludge. It just—there was no sense in trying to stay there where I was comfortable. So that’s when I got a job with Tank Farms, writing procedures. So I did that for four years.
O’Reagan: Was that something that you actively thought—you enjoyed the procedure writing, or was that just another--?
Carson: Actually, yes. I’ve always loved writing. For a long time, I desperately wanted to be a writer, a fiction writer or a science writer. And I just never was able to do it. I got a small number of rejection letters from various magazines. Once I started writing for a living, doing procedures, it just knocked all hope of ever writing fiction right out of me. But I enjoyed the process; I’ve always enjoyed figuring stuff out. When I came to Tank Farms, the procedures were horrible. There are standards and—even at that time, it was just coming out of DoE order on how the qualities of procedure has to have—the requirements that it has to meet, in terms of how it’s written, how the data is presented, how things are phrased. So when I came into Tank Farm Procedures, once I got my feet on the ground, I kind of pushed, and we did a complete overhaul of the entire Tank Farms Procedures system. Getting all of the several hundred—I think 740 procedures—getting them all rewritten to current standards. I developed, for the first time at Tank Farms, a standard compliant alarm response procedure. There’s procedures for everything, including when—I talked about all the enunciators in the control room. We had big, thick books of enunciator response guides that told you what tripped it, when it would reset, what it meant, and what you had to do. When 500 go off at once, you’re just doing your trained-in post-scram actions that you know what to do. You don’t look at each individual one. At Tank Farms, they had alarm response procedures, but for a whole facility, the book might be this thick, because anything that happened, the only response was notify management. It was quite a culture shock to go down to Tank Farms, because at N, you needed a college degree of some kind just to get in the door. It was a really fast crowd. Really smart. Even the guys that stayed back in fuels, most of them were really sharp. So we operated at a really high level, had a really high level of in-depth training. Tank Farms, not so much. So I had to get over that culture shock, and then begin to teach the folks that I was writing these procedures for why they’re changing, and what it meant for them, and why it was better to do it this way. So eventually, we did. We were the first group to use electronic photography in procedures. We were the first group to have all of our procedures computerized. And we worked hard and it came out really well. I learned that I really enjoy that process of figuring things out and then of using my writing skills to convey that in the best way possible. I really enjoyed that. After four years at Tank Farms Procedures, a new facility was being built, the 200 Area Effluent Treatment Facility. So I transferred from Tank Farms to the ETF. In part, because they had stuck in a manager that no one got along with. The man was not very—ahem—socially apt. We’ll just leave it at that. I went over to ETF and started developing their procedures as the facility was still being built. That’s where I got laid off. 1995, there was a big layoff by Westinghouse. I got the boot there. So for the next two years—it took me six months to get any kind of job again. And then I was—Fluor Hanford had come in—Fluor Daniels. They had their own built-in temporary company to supply temporary work. So I bounced in and out with that temporary company several times on the canister storage building, a little bit at Tank Farms. And then finally the head of Fluor Northwest just said, we’re done with all these temporary people, because it’s too hard to deal with the temporary company. Just hire them all in. So ’97, I got hired in. And then I got made over into a nuclear safety hazard analyst. That has been my main bread and butter. Hazard analysis, which is a very specific discipline in the nuclear industry, working on safety basis documents, which is the—safety basis defines what you can do and how you can do it, and what you can and can’t do. So the nuclear safety people developed that, the customer—DoE RL—approves it, and that’s what you live by. So we—first we draw the coloring book, then we make sure that everyone colors inside the lines. That’s nuclear safety’s job. Hazard analysis is a part of that, because before you do anything new, or if you’re going to change anything that you’re doing that’s approved now, you have to have a very deliberate process of analyzing all the hazards, figuring out how bad the hazard is, what it could cause, how bad that effect could be—if it’s a real accident or if it’s a no, never mind, that’s already covered by other controls, do the new analysis you need to do, create new controls for it, and get those instituted so that everything is still inside the box.
O’Reagan: When you were working on the Tank Farms, do you think those procedures were just left over from a time when people just didn’t care as much about—
Carson: Yes. Very much so. I guess I skipped ahead. I talked about the culture shock moving to Tank Farms. At N, we had great training, we had really good procedures that were very well thought out and well developed and well proved. We had a deep understanding of all of our limits, why they were there, what it meant if you violated one in a certain way. All that was just ingrained to us. So you did things by the procedure, you lived inside the limits, you knew why, you knew how. There was no problem. Everybody just worked that way. Tank Farms had for years been kind of a dumping ground of the people who couldn’t make it elsewhere. The only lower step was the laundry. And I worked a little bit with some tank farm operators that, shortly after I got there, got transferred to the laundry because they couldn’t make it at Tank Farms. The whole organizational philosophy was the smart guys know what they’re doing, just shut up and do what they tell you, even if it isn’t written down. Don’t worry about that, that’s just for show. Their procedures were—in one case, it was a page-long paragraph that was one sentence. I don’t think it even had a verb. It was like telling a story, and didn’t have any specifics. Nobody understood them. They all hated them, because they were all like that. We changed that; we made it better. The culture shock was coming from a place like N, where, like I said, we were a fast crowd, we were really dialed in, we really knew what was what, to Tank Farms, where there were still people working there—great operators, they really knew their job, they knew what to do—but they couldn’t read. They had a special dispensation to have their requal exams every year orally. Because they couldn’t read. They couldn’t read valve tags. So people would go out with them and tell them what was what. They knew exactly what to do; they were good operators. But that kind of difference in level really caught me short for a while. It took me a while to change my mind to realize that—okay, they want to do a good job, too, no matter how cranky they seem. So don’t look down on them, don’t ride a high horse. Just—they’re people like you, let them to do the job. And it worked out, it did. I made some friends there and we did some good stuff. I helped a lot of them out where I could, explaining things. I think I’ve forgotten what the question was. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: I was just sort of exploring this different or maybe changing priorities about the environment or waste control over time and over different parts of Hanford. It seems like they’re—
Carson: Oh, yeah, okay.
O’Reagan: We’re really interested in safety and such at N Reactor and having these great procedures, but maybe the less sexy parts of it were not as fully developed yet.
Carson: Yeah. This is an example I think that illustrates that. We were among the first to really start taking control of our low-level waste. Every place you come out of a zone, there’s what’s called a step-off pad, where you undress in sequence. You take the outermost stuff off, and you step on one pad, then you take the inner stuff off and step on the next one, so that you’re leaving all of the contamination behind. There were rad boxes sitting there, and so for things like your tape and your surgeon’s gloves, would all get thrown in the rad box. That’s what most of our low-level waste was. That kind of stuff. Nobody used to pay much attention to it; it was just something that you toted down to this room, and then you threw it on a truck and somebody took it somewhere and threw it away. They really started working at following the latest directions for how to properly deal with and account for all of the waste: low-level, higher level waste—anything. Getting the accountability, getting the proper labeling, understanding the proper limits for what could be certain types of waste. We really had that ground into us. And we really griped about it, because we were filling out data sheets and filling out labels and other labels and other labels and double and triple wrapping the boxes and labeling the wrappings as we put them on, and doing all this stuff. The one time I ever had to go down to the burial ground—it’s funny, some jobs some people would catch all the time. You might be there for years and there was things you never got to do because you were never assigned to do them. One of those was taking our low-level waste boxes to the burial ground and throwing them out of the truck into the trench. So we had spent all this time doing all this accounting, doing all this labeling, making sure the packaging was all okay and everything was very carefully set up and everything. And we get to the disposal trench in 200 West Area. So we’re carefully—you’re not supposed to damage the box—it’s a cardboard box inside of a couple plastic bags. You’re not supposed to damage it. We’re just taking them and dropping them over the side out of the back of a truck. And here comes a truck from somewhere in West Area, one of the construction things going on or something. A dump truck with wood and broken plaster and glass and a few rad boxes and stuff. They just wave him up there, and the dump truck backs up and just—pbbt—dumps, and drives away. No paperwork, no nothing. I don’t know what was behind it; maybe there were reasons it was like that. But that was just a contrast that really griped me. But they did a good job at N of explaining why the way we were doing things had to change. Why the new way was actually better, what it meant for stopping releases to the environment, reducing them. Things you should do to lower your impact, lower the amount of waste. That’s where I first really started getting it, and it slowly moved into other places so that things were much more accounted for and controlled. These days, it’s very controlled, it’s very different. It’s much more secure. Nobody uses those rad boxes anymore. The only place I ever see them is in rad update training every year. Everything’s in certified drums. It’s treated certain ways. It’s all measured and accounted for, and inspected before it goes to its final burial to make sure that there is nothing in there that isn’t supposed to be. There’s a whole entire facility in West Area that’s devoted to doing that. Waste Receipt And Processing, WRAP. They get in drums of waste from all over the site, and they do NDA on them to find out how radioactive they are and what kind of radioactive stuff is in them. They X-ray them. If necessary, they will open them up, take everything out, sort it out, so that the stuff that isn’t supposed to be there is out, and then repackage them properly. So everything is very concentrated on making sure that any waste products, whether radioactive or chemical or even domestic waste, is handled and treated properly. And that has really exhibited a standard growth curve. Because when I first started in the ‘80s, there was a lot of resistance, both kind of social and institutional, and among the groups. But the people who understood it just kept pushing, kept pushing, kept getting the message out. Gradually, you saw the same kind of acceptance go up like that, like a normal growth curve. That’s just the way things are done now. So that part’s a lot better. I never really experienced any untoward activities. We were never told to go dump stuff in a hidden place. We were never told to dispose of something in an unapproved way. But a lot of the stuff that we were around wasn’t as controlled or properly packaged or set up as it would be today. That’s all to the good. You used to be able to go just about everywhere and there would be contaminated patches. A lot of those have been cleaned up. People no longer are allowed to just stick something out here and just put a rope around it and call it an accumulation area. There’s very high degree of control and accountability. The job I’m in now with Central Plateau Surveillance and Maintenance, they have a responsibility for all the old retired facilities, the old canyon buildings. And there’s a lot of auxiliary buildings around those and a lot of waste sites and old cribs and trenches. Most of what they do is repeatedly inspecting all that stuff, making sure that anything that’s present is properly in place, that it’s allowed to be there, that they know what it is, that nothing’s going wrong. So that’s all really a lot better. In all of society and all of industry, things are much safer now. People understand chemical hazards especially. We used to be able to go get stuff out of the tool crib that isn’t even allowed to be sold anymore, because it’s carcinogenic. But there, it was an electric cleaner called Swish that was mostly carbon tetrachloride. And you could just get a spray can of it and go and clean things off with it, or kill spiders. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: So I’d love to come back to this, but just to make sure we get to it before we run too long on time, could we step back to your childhood in Richland--
Carson: Sure.
O’Reagan: --and what it was like growing up in Richland? Could you tell us a bit about that?
Carson: Well. Virtually everyone I know, their folks worked in the Area. They never talked about what went on what there or what they did. My dad talked about some fire department stuff sometimes.
O’Reagan: Was that the fire department on the site or just—
Carson: The Hanford Fire Department, yeah. Nobody ever really knew what was going on out there. The closed-mouth, closed-city—you know. I always thought it was amazing. Very early in the morning, my mom would drive me to a baby-sitter down in south Richland. And I always thought it was amazing, she could look out to the northwest and she would tell me which plant was running. I didn’t know they were reactors; I didn’t know what it meant. But she could look at the steam plumes, because even though they weren’t modern reactors with cooling towers, they still had retention ponds before the water went back in the river, and those would steam. She could just look at tell me which plant was running. And I always thought that was amazing. We had a fairly—at least in my experience anyway, as a middle class, my folks were both working, lived in a nice neighborhood up near Spalding School. We had a very safe, nice environment to grow up in, a good childhood. Just a lot of playing in the street, going over and playing in the playgrounds. You go to school, you have all your friends there, and you go do stuff. Not a lot different than most places, but—I loved then, and I still do, and unless you grow up in a place like here, you don’t get the chance to just walk in the desert, way away from anything where it’s really quiet, and you got all the sagebrush that just smells so good. And you just walk way out there somewhere, and no trees around, and just sky and desert and total silence. That’s something you really only get growing up here and somewhere very like this. Everybody knew about the Area, but never talked about it. I do remember, I was in first grade, I believe, when the Mobile Whole Body Counter came to Spalding. They gave us some tours of it, and they said that some people were going to get to go through it after school. Well, I thought it would be really neat. I think what they were probably doing was running some of the teachers through it, just as environmental sampling, really. This was in—this would have been ’64, around there. About ten years after the Green Run, when there weren’t huge releases like that, but there were still some releases going on, a lot of monitoring. I waited around after school for an hour, hoping to get to run through this. They would bring people in and 20 minutes later they’d come out. I got in trouble because I was so late walking back to my babysitter’s after school because of that. But where else is something like that going to happen? The Hanford Science Center was a pretty special place. To us, it was like just an everyday thing—doesn’t everyone have a neat science museum like this? But, no, they don’t. It was no longer—I was born in 1958. So the city was no longer run by GE. But there were still people—and they were still indulged by the city government—who, if a light bulb went out, they would call up the way that they used to call GE up to come and change it. For a while, that still kind of went on, somehow. I remember the air raid siren tests. On the last—in the last week of the month, I don’t remember what day it always was. But I always remember getting kind of scared about that. There’s nothing like that sound of—Richland had three, then two, then one—of air raid sirens going off. And at that age—eight, nine—I was starting to realize what that meant. That if that ever went off for real, it was all over. It was a big deal, a really big deal, to have to go to Kennewick or Pasco, because there was only the Blue Bridge, which wasn’t the Blue Bridge then. It was green and it was called the New Bridge. And then there was that horrible frightening old green bridge that was taken out. So if you had to go to Pasco, you had to go to and through Kennewick, and then go over one of those bridges. The highway between Richland and Kennewick was—I can still remember when it was just one lane each way. There was actually a stop light at George Washington Way, because the highway came in and curved and there was a stop light at G Way before it went up to the bypass part. Right there at that intersection is where the Rose Bowl was. Everybody knew the Rose Bowl, the sewage treatment plant. Great way to be introduced to a town when you’re first coming into it. As far as I know, it was a fairly normal childhood. My friends and I, we did all the normal things. When the hydroplane races started, there was a couple weeks in the summer where all anybody wanted to do was play hydroplanes. So everybody would have their own little scraps of wood they made into a hydroplane, and you’d drag it behind your bike in the street. Or turn on a hose and set it in the gutter and go make a dam to make a big puddle you could run it through like a boat. Day sleeper signs. Everybody—almost everybody worked a rotating shift—ABCD, where you rotate, at the time, from swing shift to days to graveyard[EM1] . My dad worked a rotating shift for 17 years. Once I started it, I understood how bad it had been for him when I was young, when I was little. But you’d walk around, and in the windows, in houses, “day sleeper.” You just understood that probably most of your friends were going to live in a house just like yours if you lived in one of the Alphabet House districts. A lot of my friends had the same or very slightly different models of ranch house all up in that area. So you knew exactly where the bathroom was, you knew where the kitchen was, you knew where the light switches were, because they were all the same. That’s probably somewhat different. There were virtually no African Americans in Richland. In elementary school, I think there was two—there was a boy my age, and his sister who was a little younger. Caused me some problems, because he slapped me around one day after school, and that affected my attitude for a long time. But because there were almost no black people in Richland, I had no idea what they were like or anything. My parents, a lot of their friends were conventionally racist at the time—it would be very racist now. But at the time it was just conventional. And because there were so few of them, they all knew each other because they had their own community that they would get together. I just thought that it was natural that every black person in the world knew every other one. Because they would always say, hi, how are you, and talk to each other like they knew each other. I thought that was normal. So I don’t know how common that is across all of the US, but it was certainly true here. Because Kennewick was a restricted city, Richland was mostly a city for somewhat upper level workers at Hanford, Pasco—East Pasco was where most of the African American people and the Hispanic immigrants went. It was always used as a term of horror—oh my god, we have to go by East Pasco. I’ve been there, now. It’s people with houses and neighborhoods and kids and dogs. At the time, it was just hell to be—this horrible thing. So I just—I grew up with that. Everybody knew the same things about everything, and believed the same way. That was really about it.
O’Reagan: Was going to college when you first sort of left this bubble, if you will?
Carson: Yeah. I went to Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma, which—I grew up in the Lutheran Church. Really white. Going to PLU wasn’t really all that far outside the bubble. There was a little bit, because there was a very large contingent of Taiwanese kids going to school there. I tried to be all friendly and stuff—it was my first experience with the fact that other people can dislike you, too. So that was a problem. But that was—it was a good experience. It was being away from here, seeing some different things, the way different people lived. Met my wife. So that was a really good thing. But at the time, even though growing up here, I still didn’t really know a lot about Hanford or the nuclear industry, I knew a little more than when I was a kid—but not really that much. So I had no real good arguments or rebuttals for the people who—there in the mid ‘70s were already rabidly, no nukes, no nukes. Get rid of Hanford. Clean it up and throw it away. So that was kind of frustrating. There was one thing I was glad when I got hired on out here, I finally had a chance to learn all this stuff. Other stuff growing up here really is just things based on being here in this area. The place to go if you were going to go ride motorcycles or shoot your bow and arrow or pellet guns or whatever, you went down behind the cemetery along the Yakima River in Richland.
O’Reagan: Oh yeah.
Carson: Later on that became a place to go when people would go have keggers or wanted to go smoke or make out or whatever, that was a popular place. I never got invited to do any of those things, so I was only ever down there with my motorcycle. I do remember, as I moved into high school, I started to understand the feeling of isolation that Richland had. Because we had been not really a closed, secret city like a lot of the ones in the Soviet Union were, but just like a cloak of invisibility over all we did here. Nobody ever really knew much about us. I was there when Richard Nixon flew in to authorize Fast Flux Test Facility. He had flown into Walla Walla on Air Force One, because at the time to the Pasco airport couldn’t service a plane that large. And then took the Air Force One helicopter and they landed in front of the PNL sandcastle and chopped down a couple trees. I’ll always remember that, because it came down and just—limbs were flying all over the place. He stood—something you wouldn’t see anymore. He was all by himself. He didn’t have a retinue behind him, around him. The Secret Service was sort of out there, but they weren’t really a visible presence. He just went and stood on the steps and addressed people and talked about stuff and announced FFTF and what was going to go on and everything. That night on the CBS News, Walter Cronkite talked about how Richard Nixon made a stop in Walla Walla and then flew to Alaska to meet with the Japanese emperor. It was his first trip to the United States since World War II. Mentioned nothing at all about what happened here, which was really far more important than a very minor diplomatic meeting that lasted two hours or something. I then did start thinking about, and I noticed a lot of that isolation. People around here just got used to never being paid attention to, to never having anyone know where they were or what went on here. So a lot of worlds kind of shrunk down to just here. You just—your church, your softball league, your friends, the hydroplane races, and that was the extent of life. So I am glad that things have really expanded out and the diversification that first started being talked about in the ‘70s has really taken hold, and so much more is done here now than just relying, almost 100%, on money from Hanford. I think if there was another bust—another one of the endless boom and bust cycles that Hanford has had over the years—if there was another big bust at Hanford, I think the Tri-Cities could probably pull through it—Tri-Cities and surrounding areas—could pull through it really very well.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm.
Carson: So that’s a big difference from growing up here, is the fact that now we’re somebody. We’re a known quantity, we’re actually a desired destination for many different reasons. We’re known for many different things. Not just, oh, all that secret stuff that nobody knows about.
O’Reagan: I understand you volunteered at the CREHST Museum for a while. What was important to you about the history of the area that got you to do that?
Carson: The fact that I was—that was in the six months that I was first laid off. I was trying to get contract writer work. That necessitated my becoming a business and getting a business license. So I ended up starting my own little computer consulting business. Because I did that, I heard from a friend of a friend who worked at CREHST that they were having computer problems. So I went down and I volunteered. I said, hey, I’ll be glad to come through and try and clean stuff and help you. And then in talking with the director, Gwen Leth—she started asking questions and found out all the other stuff I could do. So she really wanted me, and so I started working there at CREHST. They were fairly newly open, and I rewrote some of the displays, because they were not well-written. They had errors and they weren’t interesting. So I did that. I wrote an article for a magazine about CREHST—by request—that never got published. I helped with the computers, helped with some of their equipment. I just did stuff for Gwen. I was the publisher of their paper newsletter for several years. They would send me this stuff to do, and I’d put it all together into desktop publishing and did that. So that was fun, they were great people. I learned a lot about community education and what it meant and what it could be. I got to see all the neat behind-the-scenes stuff that is always the coolest thing about anything. The people there were just so wonderful that when I went back to work, I still kept in touch doing things like the newsletter, and then when I got laid off again, I would just go down and start back down there. Volunteer sometimes 40 hours a week, sometimes just a couple days. Whatever was happening that I could do, depending on what was going on with my daughter and stuff like that. So I had desperately missed the Hanford Science Center. I talked about that earlier, that it was such a great place to go, especially as I learned more and then could see more of what was actually being told me at the science center. But then when it closed down, I desperately missed having that there. Because I wanted to take my daughter to it, I wanted to keep doing it. I had volunteered to do some stuff at the science center, just before it closed when it was still in the Federal Building. So being able to help resurrect a lot of that, keep it going there at CREHST, and even provide input on what they were going to show next and things. And seeing how all of that was coming together and the efforts that they made to really reach out to the community and continue the education and the keeping the history. And keeping the artifacts alive and just being able to go in there and wander through anytime I wanted was just really great. And the REACH center is a fabulous, wonderful place. But at the time I was working at CREHST, CREHST was still going to be the lead, and they had plans for a facility about the same size down on Columbia Point that the REACH part of it was going to be a small part of the CREHST Museum. Turned out the other way. But CREHST—even just the efforts that people made to make it come about, the people that got together behind the scenes and worked with DoE, worked with the community to get funding, worked just to make things happen like moving the building of the FFTF Visitors Center from out there down to where it is now. That’s what that building is. The below-stairs part was new, but the superstructure is the old FF Visitors Center. So getting that to happen was not simple, was not easy, wasn’t cheap. But they kept at it and they did it. So that kind of dedication inspired me to do more along that line, like this.
O’Reagan: Okay. Well there are always questions I don’t know to ask. Interesting incidents, or themes you wanted to talk about or anything like that that comes to mind that you thought might be worth mentioning.
Carson: In terms of work, or in terms of growing up here, or just anything?
O’Reagan: Either or both.
Carson: One of the things I did at N Reactor was I became one of the designated evacuation bus drivers. At the time, because facilities were manned around the clock, and it was 43-and-a-half miles from my driveway to the N Reactor parking lot—a long ways out there—you had to have some way to evacuate everyone that was there, in case there was an actual big accident. On regular dayshift, all of the buses that brought everybody from town were all there. But there were, parked off on the side, a couple of the old, old buses that were there strictly to be evacuation buses. They didn’t have enough drivers to have one on every shift to make sure that was covered, so they just enlisted operators. We got special training in how to drive the old buses and stuff. So on weekend dayshifts or sometimes on swing shift, and even on graveyard a few times, if everything, all the work was caught up, there was nothing going on, we would go out and practice driving. Just drive around all over. So I got to see a lot of the Area that’s really not terrifically accessible now. Because, man, those buses will go a lot of places. They love a gravel road. Drove all over, saw the Hanford Bank. Drove down, found the big boat ramp between F Area and H Area where the Hanford patrol would put their tactical boat in and out, and also where a lot of bald eagles like to hang out in the winter. Drove out to—way out by Vernita Bridge to the old warehouse, the stone warehouse that’s out there—drove out there, and drove around that. Got out and looked at it. At the time, they still had part of the old highway, the old two-road highway that led down the valley and over to Hanford and White Bluffs and serviced all the farms and everything around there. We drove on this dirt road around B Area, and then all of the sudden, here’s a beautiful paved road where the lines are bright and clear and the pavement is not cracked. So we just kept on driving. That was an exciting find.
O’Reagan: Were these evacuation plans pretty well founded already when you got there?
Carson: Oh, yeah. Yeah. I mean, you had—in case of an emergency, you had an assignment to come and grab an emergency response card. There were holders of these in the control room. Everybody was supposed to go run in there and grab one and do what it said. Just one thing, whether it was shutting down some equipment, or going and closing something up, or something. You go and do that job, come back, if you’re done then you go and get on the evacuation bus and it will leave when everybody’s accounted for. So the whole evacuation thing had been practiced and set in place for years and years. Luckily we never had to do it, except in a drill. Oh. One of the funny things—one of the first times, it was just us three or four operators going out for a practice drive without the instructor or anything. It was a really hot summer’s day on the weekend. Those buses didn’t have air conditioning. [LAUGHTER] They did have eyebrow vents—one above the driver and one above the door. And we’re driving along and all the windows are open and it’s just too hot. So one of the other guys on my shift, operator, he gets up and he says, I’m going to open these vents. And he reaches up—I was driving—and he reached up above me and opened that one. Air started coming in. And all of the sudden—he opens this one—and there was a big bird’s nest inside that vent. And the way he was, he pulled it and it went right in his face. [LAUGHTER] There was just this explosion of straw and feathers and dried bird poop and stuff. We all tried really hard not to laugh at him, but—[LAUGHTER] he even laughed at himself, so. That was another thing. I remember when Uptown sat kind of alone. There wasn’t really anything built up around it yet. The big Mormon church had been built across the street, but there was nothing else out around it. And over now where that Exxon station and the Fire & Water store and the restaurant and where Hastings is, none of that was there. There was a couple of old wooden shacks. No idea what they were. But one night, it was a fall night, and we went because my dad was there as part of the fire department. There was some kind of—I don’t know—maybe a fire prevention week celebration or something. They were going to burn the shacks down to show what it looks like when the fire department puts out a fire. So my dad was part of that. And there were hundreds and hundreds of people standing in the Uptown parking lot, watching as they set these two shacks on fire. They let them burn for quite a long time, then they came out and put them out, and there was a lot of ooh, ahh. That’s a fairly early thing. One thing that happened through the ‘60s that I took for granted and then didn’t realize when it stopped until several years later—there were all kinds of traveling exhibitions that did come through here from NASA or the Army or the Navy or the Air Force. They would come and bring an exhibit and set up like in the Uptown parking lot or somewhere. They would be there for a day or two and give their spiel and you could go into their trailers and see what they had. Then they would pack up and move on to somewhere else. There were a lot of those. One that I wish I would have done, but at the time I didn’t think it was important—the X-37 Dyna-Soar—it was a first lifting body design for a recovery vehicle, or an early design for a space shuttle in the ‘60s—to go right around the Gemini program. It was eventually going to become a part of the Army’s or Air Force’s manned space laboratory program that never got off the ground. And they brought the vehicle around on a big trailer with a little trailer museum to talk about it and stuff, and I wish I would have gone to see that. But I was too busy doing something else that I thought was more important. So all kinds of stuff like that would come through. There was always—Griggs brought in a lot of these little, cheap tawdry little traveling exhibits and things. Bonnie and Clyde’s death car showed up there on a trailer when I was a kid. Right after the movie had come out and I was just really fascinated by the whole gangster thing. So of course I made my mom and dad go all the way over to Pasco to Griggs to see that. One I felt bad about then and I still feel bad—they had a dolphin that was in like a ten-foot above ground swimming pool, just barely moving. You paid $0.50 to see that, and I just felt bad. And just the kind of stuff that doesn’t really happen anymore. There was a lot of that still. Because the Tri-Cities, I think, moved into the ‘60s a little more slowly than other places.
O’Reagan: Well, this has all been fascinating. I know our battery starts running out around this point.
Carson: Okay.
O’Reagan: So I guess we’ll have to wrap up now. But it really has been great.
Carson: Great.
O’Reagan: So thanks a lot.
Carson: You’re very, very welcome, and I would be happy to come back and talk more about other things. Anything you’d like to ask questions about.
O’Reagan: Fantastic, thanks a lot.
Carson: Great. Thank you.
Douglas O’Reagan: First off, would you please say and spell your name for us?
Maxwell Freshley: My legal name is Maxwell Freshley, F-R-E-S-H-L-E-Y. Not many people around here know me by that name. I go by Max.
O’Reagan: Okay, thanks. My name is Douglas O’Reagan. I’m conducting an oral interview history here on January 11th, 2016. This interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And I will be talking with Mr. Freshley about his experiences working at the Hanford site. To start us off, would you tell us maybe some of your life up, before you came to this area?
Freshley: Well, I was born and raised in Portland, Oregon. I graduated from the University of Portland in 1951 with a degree in physics. I was offered a tech grad position on the site here. At the time, it was operated by General Electric Company, and this was—I started work here in June of 1951. Okay. So I guess prior to coming here, my having been raised in Portland, and that’s where I went to school, my extended experiences were rather limited. That’s kind of what happened. So I came here in June of 1951, fresh out of school, I wasn’t married at the time. First place I lived was in the Army barracks in north Richland. I can’t tell you about how long I lived there, but while I was living in north Richland in the barracks, I did not have a car. So being kind of isolated out north was a bit of a challenge. So as soon as I could find somebody who would loan me some money, I bought a brand new Ford and that solved a lot of my problems. And then sometime during that first year, I was moved to one of the dorms in Richland. I think the dorms were located on Lee Boulevard. It was close to—I’m calling it a drugstore. But it was kind of like a Payless. I don’t think that was the right name at that time. But they had a restaurant—they served food in this drugstore. So that’s where I would eat.
O’Reagan: Had you heard about Hanford before you came here?
Freshley: Not really. I really hadn’t heard about it. It was all secret, you know?
O’Reagan: Right. Were you aware of the sort of connection with the atomic bomb before you got here?
Freshley: I’d have to say I was not. Although while I was still going to school—still in school—when was the Nagasaki ignited?
O’Reagan: ’45, I believe?
Freshley: ’45?
O’Reagan: I think so.
Freshley: That—oh, okay.
O’Reagan: It was the very end of the Second World War.
Freshley: Yeah. Well, I might’ve heard of that. Yeah.
O’Reagan: What was your first impression of Richland and this area?
Freshley: [LAUGHTER] First impression was living in the barracks out in north Richland-- [LAUGHTER] was not too great. Of course, my first impression was it was darn hot here, coming here in June. It was very warm. My future wife and her mother brought me to Richland from Portland and dropped me off. [LAUGHTER] So things kind of went from there.
O’Reagan: Sure. So we were going to ask about where you were living, but we already addressed that to some degree. What was life like in the barracks?
Freshley: Oh. I would say very basic. Of course, in the dorm rooms that were assigned, you always had a roommate that you lived with. So I became, of course, very familiar with my roommates. When I moved from the barracks to Richland, I had a different roommate. So I made acquaintances with two people like that. They were both scientists, so we got along really well. In fact, one of them is still living in Richland.
O’Reagan: What kind of work did you do at Hanford, and where on the site did you work?
Freshley: Well, first of all, I worked in 300 Area in 3706 Building. I was—they assigned me a position in the Graphite Group. We were studying graphite, the moderator in the reactors. One of the things that was going on at the time—and I can’t tell you what reactor it was—but the graphite core was swelling. It was—I don’t know if it had come in contact yet with the upper shield, but it was growing. I was assigned to two people in the Graphite Group. We went and extracted samples of graphite from the core of this reactor. The thing that they had set up to do that, of course, was already here. So we were extracting samples—core samples. What the purpose of my job was to determine the annealing temperature of the graphite, so that if they raised the temperature in the core to a point where graphite annealing started occurring, then the core would shrink back and not interfere with the top shield. So I think they were looking for somebody—[LAUGHTER] I won’t say it. But anyway, I was assigned the position or job of taking these graphite samples and investigating the annealing temperature. What we used was a Fresnel diffractometer. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of that, but interference rings from this interferometer would be displayed. It was my job to count the rings. It was a very tedious job. I’m sure that these two fellas didn’t want to do that, so they found me, and I did it. These rotations were—honestly I can’t remember whether they were three months or six months, but you would rotate from one position to another. I don’t remember if you could choose your positions—your rotations—I guess it probably depended on whether or not there was something available or not to go to. So I fulfilled my position in the Graphite Group. I didn’t want to stay in the Graphite Group, so I moved on.
O’Reagan: Before we move on, I have a quick question for you. This is a little bit off-script, but I have an undergraduate degree in physics.
Freshley: Uh-huh.
O’Reagan: I was reading a while back that when you started heating up the reactors, it caused that expansion to go back, and that sounds like what you’re describing.
Freshley: Mm-hm.
O’Reagan: But what is annealing?
Freshley: It’s heating to a temperature where the damage caused by the neutron radiation would be annealed physically. So the core would shrink back. But you had to get it up to a certain temperature, and you didn’t want to overheat it, because if you get it too hot, then the core—the graphite would oxidize. That would not be good. But I think the cores were enclosed in an argon atmosphere, as I remember.
O’Reagan: It just surprised me, of course—I expected you get something hot, it expands. But now we’re saying you get it hot and it shrinks!
Freshley: Yeah, that’s right. But when you’re looking at the diffraction rings on the interferometer, you can tell by the movement of the rings when you are reaching the annealing temperature. So either they—and I can’t honestly remember the details here, whether the rings did not move as fast, or whether they might have even changed direction.
O’Reagan: Interesting.
Freshley: So I had an early experience with a graphite-moderated production reactor.
O’Reagan: What was it—you said you moved on from graphite to something else?
Freshley: Oh yeah. My second assignment was in the metallurgy laboratory in 234-5 Building. 234-5 Building now is known as—god. Hm. Plutonium—it’s the one that you read a lot--
O’Reagan: Plutonium Finishing Plant?
Freshley: Pardon me?
O’Reagan: Is it the plutonium finishing?
Freshley: Yeah, Plutonium Finishing Plant where the plutonium buttons were received and machined to a hockey-type shape. Well, they were—actually, they were reduced to form the metal, and I was not involved in that. But I was in the Plutonium Metallurgy Lab, which was at one end of the Plutonium Finishing Plant. I don’t think there are many or any people left around who know of that. I can’t think of anybody that I worked with during that period who’s still around. But we had a Plutonium Metallurgy Lab, and my manager was a very nice fella. This, now, was in the early ‘50s. One thing that he wanted me to do—and I don’t think that what I did was original research, because I think all of the original research was probably done at Los Alamos, which was the renowned weapons facility. He wanted me to investigate the low temperature phase changes in plutonium. So what I did—and that’s important because phase changes in plutonium or any metal creates a dimensional change. And a dimensional change is not something that you want in a weapon or a bomb, because it interferes with the efficiency of the bomb. So here I was, fresh out of school and didn’t know from up. Anyway, I put together what’s called a differential thermal analysis apparatus. Are you familiar with that?
O’Reagan: I know the individual terms.
Freshley: Okay. [LAUGHTER] So that’s what I did. I ran low temperature phase studies on plutonium—pure plutonium to detect these low temperature phase changes, which were very—since they were low temperature, they were very difficult to pick up, because there wasn’t much energy exchange during the phase change. Then, since that was not something you would want in a weapon or a bomb, small alloy additions were added to the plutonium to stabilize the low temperature, so you didn’t have these low temperature changes. All of this at the time was quite classified, which make it extra interesting, I guess. But when I went out to 234-5 Building in the plutonium lab, we were—there were three or four of us—we were assigned a car. So we had a car that we could go back and forth in, to work. That made it pretty nice, because we didn’t have to ride the bus and all of that. Then—this is something else that I doubt very much that anyone knew about at the time. It was the fabrication of plutonium parts for artillery shells. We cast plutonium in what was known as the 231-Z Building. We didn’t do it in the 234-5 Building. 231 was just across the street. In that building, I was not involved in the casting or the machining, but the parts were machined in that building. Then they were brought over to 234-5 Building in the Plutonium Metallurgy Lab. Because plutonium would oxidize and so on—so my job was to produce pure nickel coatings. But I don’t mean coatings like were attached. We used bismuth, which has a low melting temperature and it’s stable, to machine the exact replica of the plutonium part. Then, my job was to make—with electroplated nickel onto this bismuth—and then the bismuth was melted away. My job was to enclose the plutonium parts in nickel. So I had to do that in a vacuum. At first I had to do the electroplating. Then I had to put the nickel—what—the nickel cover, if you want—on the plutonium part, under vacuum, and solder a seal around the edge to make it—so it wouldn’t contact the air. And then it wouldn’t be as—you wouldn’t have to worry so much about contamination. But it had to be done in an atmosphere where, after the nickel part was put on the plutonium part, I sealed it with the vacuum and then it was not contaminated. The interesting part about that—one of the interesting parts—is that we were doing this for the Livermore National Lab, who was also at the time at a weapons facility. There were two: Los Alamos and Livermore. We were doing this for Livermore. As soon as the parts were finished, and I finished them, there would be a representative from Livermore waiting for the part. These parts, at times, were handed off, out the back door of 234-5 Building to this individual, who then took them to town, to the airport. I presume then, they were flown to Livermore. These tests at the time were conducted in the South Pacific—Eniwetok Islands. I never knew anything about the results. [LAUGHTER] Or what happened. But I suspect that these days we have artillery shells with plutonium weapons involved.
O’Reagan: When you were working on all these—all these different processes, what sort of team were you working—were you working mostly on an independent sub-project, or did you have other people you were sort of working with day-to-day?
Freshley: Well, when I did the differential thermal analysis, it was me. And when I was enclosing the plutonium parts in these nickel shells, that was pretty much me. Yeah. The group was small. I would guess—let’s see, there was—oh, three, four, five—I suspect there were less than ten people in the whole group. The machinist—there were two machinists—I guess I shouldn’t say who they were, but—they did very well—one of them did very well in the Tri-Cities. He had a big vision and—
O’Reagan: I ask, because some of what you’re describing sounds—at least to my sort of ignorant ears—like applied chemistry as well as applied physics. Did you have a chemistry background, or was that not really necessary for what you were working on?
Freshley: I did not have a chemistry background other than what you normally get in a four-year program. I did not have a metallurgy background, either. You know? So that all took—I had to get acquainted with that aspect of the world, and I found it to be very interesting. Later on in my life, I was sorry that I probably hadn’t taken metallurgy.
O’Reagan: How much were you instructed specifically what to do versus sort of innovating yourself or figuring stuff out as you go?
Freshley: Well, I’m sure that my manager—he had a degree from Montana School of Mines in Metallurgy. He was a very nice person. He—I’m sure I got instruction and help from him, because I needed it. Here’s this 21-year-old kid, just out of school, doesn’t know metallurgy from up. But I guess I was successful and it worked out.
O’Reagan: Okay. Let’s see. Could you describe a typical workday within those first—you worked there for a long period of time overall, is that right? How long were you working at Hanford overall?
Freshley: Overall?
O’Reagan: Yeah.
Freshley: [LAUGHTER] I started in 1951 and I retired in 1993. Then I consulted for a period after that. So you figure out the years. The first 14 years were with GE, then Battelle came in ’65, and I transferred to Battelle. I had the choice at that point to transfer to either Battelle or Westinghouse. Westinghouse was focused on the FFTF, and the development of that reactor. But I chose Battelle.
O’Reagan: Why did you choose Battelle?
Freshley: I don’t know. I think they were interested in things that I found fascinating. So I switched to Battelle, and have never been sorry. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: So when you were describing—is that amount of time that you were describing up to the end of your time at GE? Or was there still more that you were working on at GE before, or subsequent to—you were describing the different plutonium products.
Freshley: I haven’t gotten to the end of GE yet. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Okay, great. I’d love to hear more.
Freshley: Yeah. And then I got out—I was moved—I got into other things besides plutonium metallurgy. I might say that one of the—while I was at the plutonium lab, one of the technicians was working in a glovebox—do you know what a glovebox is?—that exploded. And it totally, totally contaminated the lab with plutonium. So we spent—the group—spent a lot of time decontaminating that room, and everything in it. We were successful enough that the walls were repainted to secure the plutonium contamination and everything. But then—I don’t know why I changed—but I stayed in 234-5 Building, and maybe—I don’t know, three, four, five years, possibly. Then I got involved in light-water reactor fuel development. That’s where I basically spent the rest of my career. In the late ‘50s, PRTR was under construction. We did—in those days, you were given—at least, in my case, you were given a lot of flexibility to do new things. That was really neat. Then—I didn’t write down the date, but in the late ‘50s, PRTR was under construction, and there was the second International Conference on the Peaceful Uses of Atomic Energy. We contributed to that publication—there were several publications. I didn’t get to go to the conference, but we contributed to that. Then I got involved in plutonium recycling in thermal reactors. I don’t know if you read this morning’s paper: there was an article there about a plutonium fuel—well, it’s called MOX—mixed oxide: plutonium oxide and uranium oxide, a mixture of fuel. This was at Savannah River, and they were building—or are supposedly building a facility for fabricating mixed oxide fuel for light-water reactors. But there have been some problems there, and it’s way behind schedule and over cost or whatever. But that doesn’t affect me. So I’m not involved in that. But anyway, I got involved in, like I say, fuel development—plutonium fuel development for light-water reactors. We had the liberty of doing a lot of different things. One of them was—oh, when we—at first, we found diluents for the plutonium. We irradiated and tested many diluents for plutonium. It had to be diluted—I mean, you can’t use pure plutonium. So I got into that, and we conducted lots and lots of testing of different diluents for plutonium in the MTR and ETR in Idaho—Materials Test Reactor and the Engineering Test Reactor in Idaho. There was a lot of that, and the post-radiation examination was done in the 324 Building, where the major contamination still exists that they have to remove. It’s in the ground, and it’s a major decon project right now with whoever the contractor is, I don’t know. Anyway, we did a lot of testing in MTR and ETR with diluents. We developed a plutonium aluminum alloy spike enrichment element for PRTR. That was one of the activities. An aluminum plutonium spike element—excuse me—is only for spike enrichment in the core. These are spaced around for different neutronic effects. And the reason—it’s a difficult concept, and I don’t know how we got started on that, exactly, because the coefficient of thermal expansion of aluminum with a little bit of plutonium in it is a lot different than the Zircaloy cladding in which it is enclosed. So there were problems with that. Then—ah, let’s see—then I got into recycling the plutonium in thermal reactors, and that was a major government initiative to dispose of plutonium that was no longer needed. So we made mixed oxide fuels of different types. One of the types that seemed attractive at the time was a vibrationally compacted mixture of plutonium and uranium. That is a difficult thing to achieve, because we had to make plutonium—mixed oxide shot, and we vibrated it into the long rods. I remember setting up a shot tower in the basement of 326 Building to make uranium shot. That didn’t work out too good. We didn’t put any plutonium in 326 Building.
O’Reagan: Is this still the late ‘50s or have we gotten into the early ‘60s yet?
Freshley: Well this would be the late ‘50s. Well, we’re getting into the ‘60s, though, yeah. We did irradiation tests of aluminum plutonium spike elements in PRTR. I can’t remember what the plutonium concentration was, but then we started working on VIPAC, or vibrationally compacted fuel. It seemed like it would have advantages, because you’re not working with the small centered pellets. You can just pour the fissionable material into the tubes and VIPAC—vibrationally compact—it. So that—we did a lot of work on that, on VIPAC fuel, because we thought it would have an advantage fabrication-wise. But it had disadvantages, too, of course. You couldn’t compact it to the density that you would get with the centered pellet. There was another concern about it, and that is: fuel elements and reactors, the cladding fails from time to time. Still does. I think they suspect that there is a cladding failure in the Columbia Generating Station now. We needed to look at how they would perform with a cladding rupture. So we performed a test in PRTR in what was known as the Fuel Element Rupture Test Facility, FERTF. We were brave.
O’Reagan: It sounds dangerous!
Freshley: We put together a test element. The elements in PRTR were 19 rod clusters—I forget how long, but quite long. So what we did--we were adventuresome—we put a mixed oxide fuel element in PRTR, but first we drilled a hole in the cladding. John Fox, who you’ve interviewed, still can’t imagine that we did something like that. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: This probably couldn’t happen today [INAUDIBLE]
Freshley: Oh, no. No way. Anyway, in 1966, we had that experiment in PRTR, and everything was going pretty well until they started cycling the reactor power a little bit. Well, from then on, things went from bad to worse. The cladding failed, but I mean, other than the small hole that we had drilled in it, it ruptured for over quite a distance. When it did that, it swelled, and it came in contact with the pressure tube of the FERTF. It caused that to fail also. So this made a horrible mess in PRTR. The reactor was shut down for I don’t know how long during the cleanup and the recovery from that. I can’t remember—I have some pictures if you’re interested—whether or not we were operating with fuel melting at the time. Because we wanted to get as much heat out of the element—or out of the rods as we could. Now, uranium melts at a little over 2,800 degrees centigrade. So we did a lot of work with not only VIPAC fuel—fuel melting in VIPAC fuel, but also in pellet fuel. Of course, you don’t do that sort of thing in real life. In a commercial light-water reactor—I don’t know what the maximum operating temperatures are in the uranium pellets, but it’s a long ways from melting, I guarantee you.
O’Reagan: So did you get the data that you wanted from this rupture test?
Freshley: [LAUGHTER] Yeah, don’t do it. Yeah, and that was kind of actually the end of VIPAC fuel interest. It would definitely not have been commercially viable to have something like that going on in a power reactor. Of course, we learned what the rupture behavior—probably the worst case of what a ruptured VIPAC fuel might do in real life. So that was kind of the end of VIPAC fuel elements. But it was interesting! A really interesting thing to work with and try and develop. We had various—came up with various schemes for compacting UO2 and MOX with using a Dynapac machine, which is a high-energy compaction machine, to form particles. The ideal particle would have been a sphere in a varying size range, so you can maximize the density during VIPACing. But it didn’t work out. And I didn’t get fired. [LAUGHTER] But there were a lot of experiments. Also with looking at the transient behavior of VIPAC fuel, we even conducted some tests in a test reactor. You are placing pure PUO2 particles next to the cladding. Then doing a transient power test on that to see what kind of behavior you would get: how the PUO2 particle would behave. This was done in a reactor in Idaho called SPERT—I can’t tell you what the acronym stands for right now, but it was an interesting exercise. Had some—maybe the reactor was in San Jose; I’m not sure. Anyway, I had some companions who were working for GE; we worked together on that sort of thing. But then, this would have been in 1975, ’76. The light-water reactor power industry wanted to go to higher burnups. That is, leave the fuel in the reactor longer, so they would have longer times between maintenance shutdowns. At the time, the maintenance shutdowns were probably a year or less. So what happened when they went to higher temperatures and higher burnups, the fuel column in—these are ten or 12 feet long rods—would shorten. The fuel column, then, would shrink—would settle. So that caused a great deal of consternation in the light-water reactor power industry, because they had these voids, then, at the top of the fuel columns. Something we called the irradiation-induced densification occurred. So then there was a big effort, commercially, to find solutions to that, so we had—there was what was called a fuel densification program to solve this problem. The fuel industry—let’s see, how was this—they could not tolerate the core shrinking, and then that led to an understanding, or an investigation of N Reactor densification—just the neutron activity. But then they wanted to go to higher burnups. So they started leaving voids in the pellets to accommodate the fission products associated with the high burnup. That didn’t work out to well, either, because of the column shrinking. So that’s when we launched, or got into looking at the fuel densification behavior. The fuel vendors, then, came up with adding materials into the fuel—god, I can’t think of the name now—that would disappear on the high temperature centering of the pellet, leaving voids—controlled voids in the pellets. And they do that today. So the High Burnup Effect Program was a big program here at the lab for quite a long period of time. As a result of that, the fabricators reduced, by using—I can’t think of the name—reduced the density to accommodate the fission—oh, then they put in pore formers. And we, as the lab, were instrumental in coming up with suitable pore formers that would disappear upon centering, during the centering process, to leave these voids in the fuel pellets to accommodate the fission products. As a result of that, this proved to be very satisfactory. It resulted in a stable fuel column and the achievable burnups were increased significantly. You’re probably aware of the fact, now, that the Columbia—the reactor, generating—the Columbia Generating Station, now, can go on a two-year cycle. Meaning they don’t have to shut down for maintenance every year; they can go two years. So the achievement of satisfactory high burnup in reactor fuel was made. All of the other reactors, now—light-water reactors—use that technique. And in fact, as a result of that, the NRC—the Nuclear Regulatory Commission—has imposed a requirement that they test the thermal stability of centered pellets by exposing them to a heat treatment so they don’t shrink any more. Or the shrinkage would be very small. So we were instrumental in coming up with this out-of-reactor thermal test to test the stability, if you will, of the pellets.
O’Reagan: You mentioned working with the light-water reactor industry. Were you working with different groups outside of the Hanford Site and outside of Battelle at that point, or was it still focused within the company?
Freshley: I would say that the company, Battelle, the lab, was instrumental in these investigations. EPRI, the Electric Power Research Institute in Palo Alto, was a partner. In fact, they were kind of the driving force helping us put together a joint program where we had seven other contributors—financial sponsors to this program. We had meetings frequently on the progress of this effort. These seven sponsors came from all over the world: Japan, France, England—of course, the commercial operators in the United States were members. So we had this rather large, difficult to manage international program to develop these advanced fuels for high burnup.
O’Reagan: So this wasn’t classified, or was it more of a sharing agreement with [INAUDIBLE] Not classified then?
Freshley: No, it wasn’t classified. Well, maybe there might have been some—not security, but because the seven sponsors of this program were—they were paying money, you know? And contributing, and they wanted to protect their interests.
O’Reagan: More like trade secrets, then, rather than—
Freshley: Pardon?
O’Reagan: So, more like trade secrets, then, rather than confidentiality.
Freshley: Yeah, but I’d say, most of the—in the United States, the utilities that were operating light-water reactors contributed to this. Another contributor or sponsor was Germany. I can’t remember all of them. That made it real interesting. We had these technical reviews and meetings all over the world. So that made it kind of neat.
O’Reagan: Yeah.
Freshley: Yeah. But the program was very successful. I think I have some documents that describe it, if you’re interested.
O’Reagan: Yeah, absolutely.
Freshley: Okay. And then—I’m not covering this too well—I thought my notes would be more complete but they’re not. [LAUGHTER] Then I got into—this was late in my professional career. There was a reactor in Savannah River, and I didn’t—I can’t tell you the name of it—that produced tritium for thermonuclear weapons. It had to be shut down because of safety reasons. So I got involved in what was called tritium target development for light-water reactors. Because you need tritium for a thermonuclear device. What we did was, the way we did it, we irradiated lithium metal—I shouldn’t say irradiated; we exposed lithium metal to a neutron environment in light-water reactors. The idea being to generate tritium, the gas. Well, what happens is lithium is a metal similar, maybe—low-melting, kind of—to aluminum. It’s not compatible with many cladding or enclosure materials. So we exposed lithium to neutrons to form tritium. In doing that, you had to—because the tritium is an isotope of helium, you had to tie it up some way and contain it. You didn’t want it to get out of the cladding, because we were using zirconium cladding. And then inside of this target, we used a getter for the tritium to collect the tritium and try and keep it enclosed. In fact, I’ve learned recently that there are some commercial reactors back east that have tritium target elements in their cores now to produce tritium for thermonuclear devices.
O’Reagan: I imagine that’s something the government wouldn’t want other places to be doing then.
Freshley: Well, probably not, yeah. You can google tritium production and you’ll get information on the process—well, I don’t know about the detail of the process, but information on producing tritium in light-water reactors. Then as I was nearing retirement, I got out of that and was taken over by a couple other people. But it was interesting, and so that’s kind of—I enjoyed doing this sort of thing a lot. Exploring and testing and so on.
O’Reagan: Was the tritium work also unclassified then, or was that back to the classified world?
Freshley: I think it was in the classified world, perhaps, at the time. Although the lady who currently manages that project at the lab here gave a talk on these elements, these targets, and some of the latest things that they were doing. This was a while back, that she gave this talk. But there were parts of the talk she could not discuss. These parts that she couldn’t discuss are unknown to me and foreign to me, because a lot of that has happened since I retired. See, I retired in ’93—1993. That was—what—25, 26 years ago.
O’Reagan: When you moved from GE to Battelle, did you ever notice any sorts of differences in your work experiences in sort of general terms?
Freshley: No, not really. They were the same people involved, in my case. The big difference is that under DoE at the time—I think it was DoE, maybe AEC—we did not earn credits for service. So 14 years, I didn’t get any—[LAUGHTER]—credits for service which would help my pension, until Battelle came. Then that changed. I do get a GE pension still, but it’s not very much.
O’Reagan: Let’s see. Are there sort of—one thing I’m interested in is how working on Hanford—people’s experiences changed over time as the decades went on, how things changed. Anything sort of leaps to your mind in those regards?
Freshley: Well, one thing that comes to mind to me is things that you do if you’re in the lab and so on, are a lot more regulated now than they were back in the ‘50s and ‘60s. Can you imagine opening the door and getting somebody a plutonium part that he takes off with and goes to Livermore?
O’Reagan: Yeah.
Freshley: You don’t do that.
O’Reagan: Right. Let’s see.
Freshley: So things are a lot more regulated now. And I would say a lot more sophisticated, too. I am aware of the fact that AREVA, here, the fuel fabricator, has developed since my time some very sophisticated models on fuel performance. We didn’t have models like that in those days.
O’Reagan: Interesting. One of the things we’re also trying to get at, which is why a lot of this has been very useful, is what was done on the Hanford site that was sort of innovative or hadn’t been mastered elsewhere? Because you hear sort of both sides of the Hanford legacy, and a lot of these are harder to get at without having classified sources. So the unclassified versions people could tell us about are very interesting.
Freshley: Well, I would say, that except for my time in the plutonium laboratory, things were pretty much unclassified. The development of these different fuels—fuel materials—and testing them and so on. I would say that was pretty much unclassified.
O’Reagan: Interesting.
Freshley: Now, I’m sure that AREVA here has some proprietary interests in their fuel modeling these days. But I’ve seen some of it; it’s a very sophisticated code and model.
O’Reagan: What was it like living in Richland, let’s say the ‘40s and ‘50s first and ask for the later parts afterwards.
Freshley: Well, I can tell you my experience.
O’Reagan: Yeah.
Freshley: First, as I said, I lived in the Army barracks. Then I moved to the dorms that were on Lee. This was before I was married. I was here for a year before I got married, and then when I got married, we got access to one of the Gribble apartments. I don’t know if they’re still there on Gribble Street? I think, maybe, Kadlec has taken all of that over now and destroyed all of the old buildings. But they were two-story apartments. They were really nice. Then after that, we lived in that apartment for five years, my wife tells me. And then we bought a ranch house. It wasn’t a purchase from the government; it was after the ranch houses and the other government houses were sold off by the government. This fella was in a position, a management position, in DoE—I think it might have been AEC at the time. And we bought this ranch house from him on Burch Street in Richland. We paid him $10,000 for it. And then from there—we lived there for a few years, and then we bought a house on Howell. And from Howell, we built a house in Country Ridge. That’s where we live now. We’ve lived there for 20—over 25 years.
O’Reagan: Interesting. I was just thinking back on the timeline there. I know for a long time people couldn’t buy houses in Richland. So I guess you got your first place not too long after you were allowed to?
Freshley: Oh, I think it was very soon. I can’t remember his name, but he was in some management position in DoE and wanted to sell his house. So we bought it from him and got the title and made some changes and so on. Yeah, it was among the first government houses that were sold privately.
O’Reagan: Mm-hmm. What was life like in the community around there? Do you remember any sort of community events?
Freshley: Yup. Town Theater was there. Actually showing movies, of course. Mm, I don’t know how to answer that. I would say it was pretty normal. Did a lot of outdoor activities, a lot of snow skiing at Tollgate—I don’t know if you know where Tollgate is.
O’Reagan: I’m new to the area.
Freshley: Oh, are you? Okay. It’s in the Blue Mountains. A lot of boating activities. We had a canoe and enjoyed that. Things like that.
O’Reagan: Great.
Freshley: Pretty normal, I would say. Wouldn’t you?
O’Reagan: Sure.
Freshley: [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Did you ever feel like the sort of larger scale politics of the day ever impacted your life whether—Cold War security issues or changing Presidents or any of that?
Freshley: I can’t relate to that. I was not politically inclined like some people you know. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Sure. Let’s see. This is sort of a similar question, so we don’t have to go into too much detail. Any memories of the social scene, local politics, or other insights into life in the Tri-Cities over the time you lived here?
Freshley: Over what time period? Oh.
O’Reagan: In the time you lived here.
Freshley: Well, like I said, I’m not politically oriented, so if there were these things happening, I was pretty isolated from them.
O’Reagan: Okay. Could you describe any ways in which security and/or secrecy at Hanford impacted your work?
Freshley: No, I really can’t, except 234-5 Building, every time you went out there, you had to have your badge and security. I think even in the Plutonium Finishing Plant, there probably—I think there were—additional security requirements.
O’Reagan: What would you like future generations to know about working at Hanford or living in Richland during the Cold War?
Freshley: [LAUGHTER] Well, I wouldn’t know how to answer that. I would say, from my experience, it was very normal. I guess if there were security requirements and things like that, you just kind of got used to it, and you didn’t—it wasn’t something that stood out. I think that’s true.
O’Reagan: Okay. So what haven’t I asked about that I should ask about? What else is there I should be asking about?
Freshley: Well, how do I answer that? I don’t know. I think we’ve covered my experience pretty thoroughly. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Well, we don’t have to dwell on it if nothing comes to mind.
Freshley: No.
O’Reagan: It is an open-ended question.
Freshley: Well, what happened, after we bought our ranch house, the government didn’t come around and change our light bulbs anymore. [LAUGHTER]
O’Reagan: Oh, really? Did you have to—how much of a transition was that once you sort of became a homeowner? Was it--?
Freshley: Oh, it was a good transition, from my standpoint. You could do things—like we made modifications to the house. It was our house. It wasn’t controlled by the government—or owned by the government. So that made a big difference. You had a lot more freedom and so on in what you did and how you did it.
O’Reagan: All right. Well, thanks so much. This is very, very interesting, very useful.
Robert Bauman: Okay. All right. My name's Robert Bauman. And I'm conducting an oral history interview with Mr. Bob Petty. Today is July 10th of 2013, and the interview's being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. And I will be talking with Mr. Petty about his experience working at the Hanford site. So, Mr. Petty, if it's okay with you, I'd start with how and why you came to Hanford, where you came from, and when.
Robert Petty: My mother and father came from Arkansas. My dad came in August of '43, my mother in 1948. And I was born and raised here, born in 1948. And I--well, I'm retired from the Department of Energy. I first started working out here at the age of 11.
Bauman: Okay.
Petty: My father was in transportation. He would put me in the trunk of his car. And since his brother, my uncle, was a security patrolman, would wave me on through, or wave my dad on through. And this went on for several years. And my dad kept me hidden for those two years. And on numerous occasions, kind of a funny type of note, people had hit deer and killed them. Of course, my dad being the back woodsman that he used to be, stopped and put the deer in the car. And one particular time, I was in the trunk with that deer. And I am screaming, I want to go home, I want to go home. Well, we didn't go home. But I was a laborer. Helped build WNP out here for the nuclear plants, and decontamination and decommissioning of numerous reactor facilities. Pump houses, power stations, and things of that nature. There were some good times and some bad times. The controls that what I would expect I don't think were in place. And starting in 1971, we started doing D&D, and I was allowed to go anywhere I wanted, with the exception of in the reactor facility itself. And we did go into some potential hotspots. And at no time were we told to wear a mask or have a dosimeter. And at no time—all I had was just a badge that had Bechtel on it. And so nobody ever told us to--you know, working around the asbestos—of which I have asbestos-related disease—that you need to protect yourself from not only asbestos, but from potential chemicals, maybe radioactive contaminants and things of that nature. And so I eventually went to work for the Department of Energy in 1990? '91? '91. And I retired as a management analyst due to my health. And then shortly thereafter, I went to work as a senior technical advisor for CH2M Hill.
Bauman: I'm going to ask you to go back a little bit-
Petty: Sure.
Bauman: And go back to the stories first of as an 11-year-old, your dad taking you out to the site. So he was in transportation?
Petty: Yes.
Bauman: And do you know--so he came during the war, correct?
Petty: Mm-hm.
Bauman: How did he—from Arkansas. Do you know he heard about Hanford--?
Petty: Well he--my dad originally was in the Civilian Conservation Corps in central Arkansas. And he had heard about this place out in the desert. And when he got here, I do remember him telling me--he passed away in '82, that, oh my god, what have I got myself into. It is hot. There are windstorms that you just couldn't believe how bad they were. And so he came up here. My mother and father were married at the time. And my mother did come out several times, and then went back home, and eventually settled out here later. And so he was a truck driver, then a bus driver. And then after my mother moved out here, she worked out here from '48 to I think about 1950, working next to a hot box. And she became contaminated. And she eventually died of lung cancer, bone cancer, skin cancer, and multiple myeloma. But when she was contaminated, she was pregnant with me. And I am involved in litigation over this. But trying to prove something is not easy.
Bauman: Where was she working at the time?
Petty: She was working in the 3--I think the 300 Area. I don't remember which building it was. I am not positive the location, but I think it was there.
Bauman: And what was her job?
Petty: I really don't know. No, I couldn't say that for sure. My mom has been dead for a number of years. And so there's a lot of questions you don't get to ask that you would like to have asked.
Bauman: And you were born in '48?
Petty: Yes, November of '48.
Bauman: And did you have other siblings?
Petty: Yes, I have three sisters. Four sisters, one is gone. So I have three remaining sisters. And one now works at Oak Ridge, and I have two that live—one in Pasco, one in Kennewick.
Bauman: And when your dad first came to work here, he came basically by himself? Your mom would come visit sort of, and then--
Petty: Yes, yes.
Bauman: And did they have any kids at that point, or it was just the two of them?
Petty: No, no. My oldest sister wasn't born until June of 1944. But my mother had went back home, then came back numerous times.
Bauman: When your mom was working here, and you said she had symptoms of being exposed, did she know what she was working with at the time, do you know?
Petty: Not really. And now there are procedures in place where if a woman is pregnant or think they may be pregnant, they're not allowed to go in any potential hotspots. That was not the case back then.
Bauman: So your father would basically sort of smuggle you, I guess you could say, into the site?
Petty: Lack of a better word, yes.
Bauman: With the help of your uncle.
Petty: Yes.
Bauman: So what would you do when he got to work with you, then? What did you do during--
Petty: My dad originally started out as a house mover. And one of my particular jobs was I'd get underneath the house and cut the piping loose, take all the asbestos off of the piping, snakes, cats, dogs, dead or alive, indifferent. And odd jobs around that he thought I could do, and so—oh yeah.
Bauman: So what houses were you moving?
Petty: Back in those days, most of them were structural wood buildings from the Hanford site to whoever wanted to buy them.
Bauman: So houses that were on the Hanford site, had been there prior to the war? Some of the older houses?
Petty: There may have been several, but most of them were either on-site or from Camp Hanford.
Bauman: Oh, okay. And so his job was to move those off.
Petty: Right, correct.
Bauman: You crawled under—
Petty: And there are many, many of those still around today.
Bauman: And so how long did you do that?
Petty: Up until after my dad passed away 1982, I decided to sell the remaining equipment and what we had. I didn't want anything to do with that portion of the business. And so from then, I started going back to school. And I have numerous college degrees. And so eventually I went to work for the Department of Energy.
Bauman: So when you were 11 and 12 and out onsite helping your dad, were there other workers there who knew you were there?
Petty: My dad tried to keep me isolated. There were the people around, and they knew what was going on. But they didn't say anything. And there was kind of some camaraderie—you scratch my back, I'll scratch your back. And so they didn't say anything.
Bauman: So you were born in '48. Did your family live in Richland, then?
Petty: Yes. Originally came to Pasco, lived in Sunnyside, then shortly moved on to Richland.
Bauman: And where in Richland did you live in the '40s and '50s?
Petty: I think it was 1311 Marshall.
Bauman: And what was Richland like at the time as a sort of place to grow up?
Petty: Richland, since August of '43 through December of 1958 I think it was, was a government town. And they came in and said, you're going to do what we tell you to do. And since this is a government town, secrecy was of utmost importance. And I didn't remember a whole lot about that per se. But I do remember numerous times where we had to duck and cover in grade school. And we had drills and things of that nature. But on the whole, I do remember Richland being very hot, maybe because there were hardly any trees. And there was so much construction going on around Richland, new homes being built.
Bauman: My sense is that people, workers, families, came from a lot of different places. Was that sort of true? Did you experience that the families that you knew, friends growing up, that they had come from all over the United States?
Petty: My dad did tell me when he first came out here there were people from all over the nation, just about every state in the union. And the men stayed in the men's barracks and the women stayed in the women's barracks even though they may have been married, until their name came up for a house. And times like that were very tough on my mother and father. And I do remember meeting numerous people when I was young telling me that they were from maybe New York or Connecticut or something like that. Yeah.
Bauman: And when you were growing up, do you remember any special community events, parades, any of those sorts of things in Richland? Frontier days?
Petty: I do have pictures of parades. And I have a book from Richland--or Hanford, Hanford Days, Richland Days, I think it is. And it shows parades in there also. And I do have several pictures of parades that we had here in town. And so those were good times. Played Little League baseball, we formed a baseball team and didn't do very well. But on the whole, I think pretty much the only thing we did was--well in summertime—was go swimming. They had a small pool in Howard Amon. But for the most part, we didn't do very much.
Bauman: Okay, let's talk more about the work you did at Hanford. When did you start working at Hanford? Not with your father, but--
Petty: I first started in earnest--I became a laborer in the local laborers here in town. And went to work at FFTF back around '70, the early '70s. And some things that went on, I won't say on camera, because they're not very nice. And when FFTF was first started, it was projected to be about $79 million in costs. And that particular job, being a cost plus contract, ended up being almost $800 million, which you see today, in fact. And my job was just basically a laborer. A broom, shovel, hammer.
Bauman: During construction--?
Petty: Yeah. And it was not uncommon at all to have six or eight laborers on a one-man job. That was very common.
Bauman: And that was--you were working for what contractors?
Petty: Working for Bechtel, Chicago Bridge & Iron. Yes. I think Mellon brothers.
Bauman: And that was in the early 1970s.
Petty: Yes.
Bauman: And then earlier, you had mentioned going places--you said you were allowed to go sort of anywhere, no dosimeter. Could you talk a little bit more about that, like what sorts of places you were talking about?
Petty: A lot of the buildings that you see--or have seen in the past, you'll see pictures of them, many times there was as much below ground as there is above ground, like in the water treatment facility, for instance. We would go down below ground and take out all the scrap iron and stuff like that, all the wiring, all the piping. There were wells, numerous wells around those sites that we went in. And they had a thick brass shaft. We would go down into the well and cut that off and scrap the brass out. And there were numerous of those around.
Bauman: And this was sort of all over different places on the site?
Petty: Yes, yes. And so subsequently, the--I was young, but--and then when I became a laborer, and we pretty much just had the free run of all the facilities, with the exception of the reactor itself. And at no time did I ever think I was in danger. I was born here, lived here, raised here, and worked here. I have no problems going out there today.
Bauman: Now I know, especially during the war and early Cold War years, security obviously was very tight. You had to ride in the trunk of your dad's car to get through. When you were actually a laborer, was there still a lot of security? Did you have to have any special clearances, anything along those lines?
Petty: There was security, but since my dad was a private contractor, no. Although you had to go through a checkpoint—several checkpoints in fact, entering and leaving. And they would check your vehicle for maybe any contraband, drugs, weapons, or alcohol. And if your car did not have a sticker on it, it had to be searched. But since my dad at times had special privileges, was not. And so here's a little story that—I put myself through school. And I was working weekends, but working full-time here. And I gave a tour to a group of senior citizens from Boston. And I got everybody on the bus, and a little old lady with a cane sat up next to me and we got to talking. And she says oh goody, I want you to take me out and show me where the cowboys can shoot the Indians. And she actually believed that they did that today out here. And she asked me what kind of work I did. And I says, well, this is a former nuclear weapons plant. Well, what do they do out here? Well I said, they made plutonium production for nuclear weapons. And she got up and moved to the back to the bus. And that paradigm has not changed in many people's minds. And so they still have a perception of if they get anywhere near here, they may become contaminated. Potentially, maybe yes. But highly unlikely. Highly unlikely. And so I had the perception when I worked out there I'm not going to get contaminated, or I'm not going to get sick or something like that. Well, I was wrong. But I have no compunction about going in places like that.
Bauman: So you worked for Bechtel. And then in '91 you moved to DOE? Is that right?
Petty: Yes.
Bauman: Okay. And what sorts of work did you do there?
Petty: I started in procurement, since I have a procurement degree, working contracts. And after three years there, I moved to the different side of the house. Worked on environmental safety and health as a management analyst. And I was more of a technical person, wrote, maybe, technical reports, read them, made recommendations to the assistant manager, who was the boss of my director. And although I have numerous college degrees, I am not a scientist or anything like that. I'm more of basically just a paper pusher.
Bauman: When you were working out at the site, were there ever any sort of events that stand out in your mind or things that happened? Fires, or anything--incidents like that, I guess.
Petty: I was involved in a very serious accident in which my dad was demolishing and standing too close to a building. And I don't know if you've seen a very, very old silent movie where a silent film screen star was standing in a building and the entire wall just came over on top of him. But he was standing in the doorway, and it missed him. And that's what happened to me. The entire wall came down, and I was standing right in the doorway, and it missed me with the exception of one of the beams had come down and caught me on the head. And I have permanent damage as a result of that. There was a very large fire here which I think covered about 240,000 acres at one time. On national news, people had the perception of this is going to be the end of the Tri-Cities if something goes wrong. Well, nothing was going to go wrong. And there are too many protections in place, and these buildings are too well-fortified to have anything escape.
Bauman: The incident where the wall fell down around you, how old were you at the time of that event?
Petty: I was about 15--16, something like that, yeah. Child labor laws weren't very stringent then. And so I think people got away with a lot more than they should have. Not only with work environment, but it's also--if I can put this very delicately--men living in men's barracks and my mom living in the women's barracks, and there was a barbed wire fence separating them. And my dad told me that the only way that they had relations was through a barbed wire fence. And during the day, they didn't see each other very often. But they would go to dances, and maybe occasionally a vacation. But I don't remember any of those.
Petty: Did your dad have any other stories about his time here before your mom was here permanently?
Bauman: You know, I remember when my mom came up--well, she went back home numerous times in the '50s. And everything she cooked was fried. Fried everything. And she would take the grease and make into gravy, and I thought that was the best food in the world. But now my veins kind of cringe. And that was the way—predominantly, I think, a lot of the diet that people had back then. But I do remember catching several rattlesnakes out here when I was young, at a young age. Which—I don't remember playing with them, I do remember catching them. And I would just let them go.
Bauman: President Kennedy visited the Hanford site in 1963.
Petty: Correct.
Bauman: The NPR. I wonder if--you would have been 15 at the time, roughly?
Petty: Yes, I was 15 at the time. At the time I seen him, he was maybe 40 feet away. And of course my mom thought he was the best-looking man she'd ever seen. And I thought it a very, very interesting, very cool, you know, I get to see the President of the United States. Which he wasn't the first--or he was the first, but he was not the last. But overall, I thought John Kennedy was very, very likable.
Bauman: What else do you remember about that day or him being here at the time?
Petty: When he first arrived, I looked out there and I'd seen a mass of people. And I do remember first thinking, all these people can't be here for the president. But they were. And I really didn't grasp the ramifications of maybe his political influence being the president. And I really wasn't interested in that type of thing when I was growing up. And it kind of dawned on me that this is important. He's a very important man, one of the most important men in the world. And so that had kind of a profound effect on me, and I eventually went into--took government courses in school.
Bauman: Any other times when you were working there at Hanford that you remember dignitaries coming, or other presidents or anything like that?
Petty: We were working on-site one particular day. And somebody was using a cutting torch, and we had started a fire. It was during the summertime. And tremendous amount of cheatgrass around. And I do remember we had started a fire, and it got out of control very quickly. And I thought the building that we were working on was done. But luckily, we got the fire department there in time. And it had consumed several acres and a portion of the building that we were working on, but we ended up saving it. A little scary.
Bauman: About when would that have been, roughly?
Petty: '72. Yeah.
Bauman: And what area of the site might that have been?
Petty: That was 200 West, I think. Yes.
Bauman: Overall, how would you describe Hanford as a place to work?
Petty: In the '40s, '50s, '60s, there was a mindset that it was just a job. And even when I worked out here in the '70s and '80s, I felt it was just a job. And then when I went to work for the Department of Energy, the mission had changed from nuclear production to cleanup. And so to kind of put it in perspective, my grandfather worked out here, my dad worked out here, his brother—in fact all his brothers, all his sisters, all their kids, my sisters. And people have the perception of, well, I'm from here. All my relatives worked out here. Well, you owe me this job. Well, that's not true. And when I worked at DOE, the manager came in one day and we had an all-employees meeting. And he said, all you employees are very well-educated, make very good money, have numerous college degrees. We do not owe you a job. And that's true. And I feel that's the same way here at Hanford. We do not owe them a job. Most of those people are very well-educated. And so in the next 20 years, things are going to be ramping down, probably more so than they are now. And today's paper said that one firm here in town was going to be reducing their staff by 90%. And I think people need to become aware well, the well is going to run dry. It was good while it lasted. And I made very good money here. And I knew my time wasn't going to be here forever. But people I think need to change their paradigms, and I certainly changed mine. And we had some very, very good times out here, and a few bad. And since we have changed to environmental cleanup, everything we do is scrutinized. And from if you spill a quart of gasoline or paint, it has to be written up and you have to make a report. Just to give you an idea of--very, very stringent.
Bauman: When did you notice that change? Was it when it shifted from production to cleanup more, or was it--?
Petty: I think I first started to know the change about 1988, I think it was, when they first--what happened at Chernobyl. I think that was a major turning point. And then they seen the similarities between Chernobyl versus the N Reactor. Although I don't think that could have happened at the N Reactor. And I think from that point on, from the point they shut it down here at the N Reactor, they started to focus more on environmental cleanup.
Bauman: I want to go back a little bit and ask you a little bit more. One of your first jobs was working FFTF?
Petty: Mm-hm.
Bauman: That became somewhat of a controversial facility, to a certain extent.
Petty: Very much so. Not so much--well, it was a cost plus contract. Not so much during the construction and operation. In the initial operation it actually was never really used. There wasn't a whole lot of controversy. But the controversy came later when the government wanted to shut it down. And that's a tremendous amount of money just to let loose of. And it could have done a lot of good. But the government finally decided that it would be best if they shut it down. And a great number of people think it was political, which it may have been. I don't know. Although I'm going to keep my thoughts to myself, and I'm not going to say anything about that. Although when they did shut it down, I do remember doing a number of correspondence with different people from Washington, DC, here at the Hanford site and at DOE here regarding to the FFTF.
Bauman: I wonder for--you said things have changed, obviously, at Hanford site over the years. And I wonder for future generations, people 20 years from now or 50 years from now, what would you like them to know about working at the Hanford site, what it was like?
Petty: Well going back to 1943 when the site was first picked, this isn't something they had ever done before. And their number-one priority, number-one goal, was to end the war. And now their number-one priority is to clean up this mess. This isn't something they'd ever done before, either. This is the largest cleanup project in the world. And subsequently, I think that a lot of this new areas that they're going into is how do they clean up these certain types of chemicals or radiation or contamination. And there's so many things that they don't know and they don't know how to treat. They've never done it before, like the Vitrification plant. This is never something that they've done before. And they say it's going to work, take this liquid sludge and turn it into glass logs. It'll probably work, yes. But it's not something they've ever done before, and I think generations down the road need to realize that we cannot stop plutonium production. There are many, many environmental groups out there, but other countries in the world, all over the world, are now getting nuclear weapons power plants, the potential to produce nuclear weapons. It is not going to stop. And if we stop producing plutonium, uranium, for weapons, nuclear power plants for nuclear or electricity production, then if we're not moving ahead, then we're falling behind. And we are falling behind now, at least in my estimation. And so I think we need to change the paradigms of our youth that this can be a good thing, or it can be a bad thing. And if we make it safe enough, with the controls in place, there should be no problems.
Bauman: Is there anything that I haven't asked you about that you think would be important to talk about, or any other memories from your experiences working here that you--
Petty: No.
Bauman: --want to share?
Petty: Have you been on-site before?
Bauman: Yes.
Petty: Okay, so you kind of understand what's going on out there and the history portion. I do hope that the B Reactor museum comes to fruition, because I think we need to leave a legacy for our children and our grandchildren and generations farther down. And I think it's extremely important not to forget that, but also be respectful and mindful of what we did and hopefully never, never, ever again.
Bauman: Well thank you very much for--
Petty: Sure.
Bauman: --coming in and talking to us today. We really appreciate it. Thanks a lot.
Northwest Public Television | Hendrickson_Wally
Robert Bauman: If I'm not talking loud enough, let me know.
Wally Hendrickson: Okay.
Bauman: And if you need to stop to take a drink of water—
Hendrickson: Oh! Okay.
Bauman: Fine, no problem. Whatever.
Hendrickson: Though Hanford wasn't involved, I once went to Vietnam to remove the highly enriched uranium fuel at a research reactor. But that was out of Idaho Falls.
Bauman: Oh, okay. So it wasn't it directly connected to your work at Hanford? Sort of? [LAUGHTER]
Hendrickson: Peripherally, some of the fuel came to the 300 Area and was used in the TRIGA Reactor here for work done on FFTF.
Bauman: I think it would still be interesting to talk about that at some point during the interview. Are we all ready to go?
Man one: Yup.
Bauman: Well let's start by first of all just having you state your name.
Hendrickson: I'm Wally Hendrickson.
Bauman: Okay, great. And my name's Robert Bauman, and we are conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. Today's date is July 30th of 2013. So I thought we could start by first of all just telling me how, when, why you arrived at Hanford.
Hendrickson: It goes way back. My mother's cousin worked here from the early '40s on. And I knew about the reservation because of family visits. But I first came to work here in 1955. I was an engineering student at University of Idaho and got a summer job here with General Electric--that was a contractor at that time--for the summer. Oh, it really suited me. I've been very interested in science and technology all my life. In high school I wrote a paper on disposal of radioactive waste. And I have four engineering degrees. I've really enjoyed technology. And I had the idea--idealistic young fellow [LAUGHTER]--that engineers could do a lot of good for the community.
Bauman: And so what was your--you said you had like a summer job here when you were a college student. What sort of work did you do then?
Hendrickson: Yes, it was for technical people—technical students. And it's to give the student a chance to get an early experience with a large technical organization. And, of course, the managers here would look at the students and wonder if they would want to have them when the students graduate. And I've worked here for one year in 1957 - '58, and I was a tech grad, with a few the listeners may know. At that time, a technical graduate like an engineer, or a physicist, or a mathematician would be given four three-month assignments to work in different areas at the site. And I remember—oh, later for that. I was really pleased at that opportunity. And one of the four three-month assignments I remember so well was water treatment. We treated Columbia River water for its use as cooling water in the breeder reactors—or production reactors, I think they're called—that we had here to make plutonium for weapons. And we cleaned more water than the city of Chicago. And our criterion was solid particles, not dissolved stuff, but little dust things that float around in the river and organic things. And I believe we sought to have the particles no more than 0.01 parts per million. And we had tricks that, I think the rest of the world still hasn't caught on to. [LAUGHTER] After the normal type treatment-- Is this dragging on too technical?
Bauman: No this is interesting, keep going.
Hendrickson: Well, most municipal water treatments were much like ours, except ours was really jazzed up. And they'd put in a chemical that would form a flock. It looks like a tiny piece of cotton floating in the water. And when it forms it readily picks up some dissolved material, but particularly particulate material. And that would settle when the water flowed through a very, very large swimming pool. And then water would go to filters. And they were really fancy filters. I wonder if the rest of the world has caught up with that technology. And we'd add Separan, which was like Lucite, a polyacrylamide, which would give a particle in water with a number of valences so it would attract particulates and enmesh them. And they would settle out or be filtered out. And I was able to work with two really great guys. One was a lawyer. [LAUGHTER] He'd minored in chemistry in law school, and graduated during the Depression, when you couldn't buy a lawyer's job, so he taught chemistry in high school. And there was a law, whose name I don't know, that enabled the government to essentially draft people with skills critical to the war effort. And he first went to a munitions plant, and then here. And I remember he set out to educate me. [LAUGHTER] He told me about the first breach of promise suit in America; that was during colonial times. Where a man died, his life agreed to marry the neighbor, and then thought that oh it's too soon. And he sued her for breach of promise, and was given property from her. That's because in those days it wasn't thought quite proper for women to have property in their name. So he actually lost something.
Bauman: So what was this lawyer's name, this man's name? That you were--
Hendrickson: I can't remember now. He was big, and I think he died in the '70s. And I talked to his wife when I came back here in the '80s, and she said he remembered me and would talk about me.
Bauman: So that was one of the four areas you worked during your--
Hendrickson: No, that was a full time employee. But I was a tech grad during that time and three months in water treatment. Oh, and another very interesting assignment was looking at the water of the river--or rather, looking at the contamination that mostly the cooling water for the reactors would contribute to the Columbia River. And one bit of--I guess it's a biological thing—that amazed me, phosphorus-32 would be made by fast reactor, fast neutrons, on the aluminum cooling pipes in the reactor tubes. And it would produce phosphorus-32. I think I'm mixed up here. I'm not sure what the target was, but anyway it would get into the water and algae would pick it up--hungry. They're hungry for phosphorus. And the concentration of phosphorus on a weight basis of the algae is 300,000 times what was in just the water. And my colleagues, they would say, well, what does that mean? How is it does it affect health? And they found that whitefish--if they didn't eat the algae, they ate something that had eaten the algae. And it would get into their bones. Now, when you eat whitefish, you usually don't eat the bones, but they didn't calculate—they didn’t take that into consideration. And they knew that some people fished quite a bit out of the Columbia and feed their family the fish. So they calculated what this exposed people to. And if they fished all through the year, and ate all of the fish and ate the bones, they would be getting close to limits for nonprofessional radiation workers. And I was really surprised when I heard about people saying the information regarding exposure of citizens was kept secret, because the very year I was here, '57-'58, the Public Health Service studied radioactivity in the Columbia River and wrote a report, and I had a copy of that report.
Bauman: So were levels of phosphorus sort of the main finding from the work you did in terms of the possible impact on—
Hendrickson: Yes, though I believe some aquatic worm at the mouth of the Columbia would pick up cobalt-60. And they were hot. Of course, people don't eat the worms. And I don't know if the fish do or not. There was so much work to study what became of the radioactive materials in the effluent, and what kind of hazard that was. And I remember—I'm sort of a chemist too. I remember reading the reports of the radiochemists about the techniques they developed and applied to analysis of radioactivity in the water—either effluent or the river itself. There are people that got to go up and down in a motorboat catching fish for some of this. [LAUGHTER] But much of the radioactive analysis had to come after quite a bit of chemical separation. A lot of things will get radioactive. And if you try to count a dry sample, it would be impossible to distinguish between those radioactive material, or nearly so. And they would use standard inorganic chemistry to separate different isotopes. And this place ran 24/7, and they liked to keep close track of the effluent, so they would build automatic systems to sample and automatically go through the chemical separations. If you've ever been in a hospital that has their own lab, you'll see big machines that are just amazing at being able to analyze for different organic chemicals in the blood. It's all automated. Nowadays, it just comes out printed on a sheet, sounds easy. But there was a time when it was very laborious.
Bauman: Do you know if there were any changes made to any procedures in terms of water after the results of phosphorus and that sort of thing?
Hendrickson: Well, changes--now I don't think there were many. They did they spend a lot of time finding out what was in the effluent, and what it would do to people. And my recollection is it that it was quite a ways away from any limit, any conservative limits that we operated from. I had heard, though, that the water treatment plant at Kennewick in those days filtered out radioactive particles. And if one went over to the filter bed—I suppose this is after the water's gone down—with a Geiger counter, it was quite radioactive. That was in 1957. Yeah, let's see. Oh! Yeah, this is embarrassing. My bosses said, well, some reactors are better than others in reducing phosphorus-32 material, why is that? Is it a function of the water treatment? So I was set out to set up one reactor. It had split water supply systems. So one reactor ran as normal, and the other half of the reactor ran a little dirtier. And we ran it for quite a while. Stuff builds up on the tubes, fine particles. If you see something in a pond, you might—well, certainly you'll see algae growing on it, but you might see accumulated clay particles. And then we purged the reactor. We ran in diatomaceous earth, which is nearly pure silica from little diatoms, the bodies of little diatoms. And that would scour the fuel elements. And this is done periodically to keep the amount down that we generated. And we took samples, then, during the purge, and they didn't make sense. And a couple weeks before that, I'd gotten some records from an accountant who was stationed over at the coal fired plant that generated steam. And I told him I need to see these records, and this is why. And he says, well, but there is no correlation like you suggest. And I got the records, and yeah, there was no correlation. [LAUGHTER] And my bosses had to admit that they didn't realize that. I suppose they'd gotten some idea during a short period of time that wasn't typical.
Bauman: So, how long as a whole did you work at Hanford, and what other areas did you work in?
Hendrickson: Well after '57, I started a doctoral program in physical chemistry at Washington State University. It was a very difficult time for me. Let's see, we had gotten a raise as teaching assistants there, up to $200 a month. And I had a bachelor's and master's in chemical engineering. So I didn't have as much chemistry as the other graduate students. It would pretty hard. And I kind of washed out, partly for financial reasons, and took a full time job at the research reactor in Pullman. Now it's called Harold Dodgen Radiation Center is the name. And he was a wonderful man--full professor of both chemistry and physics. Wonderful man, and so well trained. He was from Berkeley, as were some of the other faculty that I had. Well, I eventually got another master's in nuclear engineering and a PhD in engineering science. And then I came here for six months as a summer prof, they call them.
Bauman: So what year would this have been?
Hendrickson: That was in '71—July of '71. I came and unloaded my earthly possessions on a day that was 113 degrees. Oh! When I went to Pullman, I left the 13th of September, and the heat wave had not yet broken. And to that date, we had had 100 days above 90, and 30 days above 100. That was before anything like air conditioning in buses was thought of for [LAUGHTER] the people that worked here. Yeah, I would be away from home 11 and a half hours a day, be picked up by a shuttle bus that would deposit me at the big bus lot and then take a big bus out to wherever. And it was a toss-up of whether we should have the windows open or have the windows closed, because the air was so hot.
Bauman: As so what were you working on then?
Hendrickson: The four tech grad assignments. And I've spoken of two—water treatment, and another looking at the radiation impact on the Columbia River. And then I worked with the group that--they called them material and processes. And when something had to be done--a lot of things fell in that category—and they would finish up engineering if it were a new piece of equipment. And then see to procurement. Or they would work on a better decontamination material. When something gets into the contaminated water, the contamination will absorb onto the surface and stay there. And to get it off, you have to do some pretty strong chemistry. And [LAUGHTER] I've seen car loads of decontaminating reagents laying out in the sun, and I'd go test them. It's amazing what industry--Turco was a supplier of these decontaminating chemicals. And they would send us batches of new stuff that they'd worked up. Then we would test them here with our contaminants, and we give the results to them. But they wouldn't tell us what was in the samples they had given us. And I thought that was kind of a dirty trick. And then, I remember one fellow was working on epoxies. And I'd used epoxies at the research reactor in Pullman, so I knew something about that and thought it was interesting. Now there's a fourth one, but I can't remember what it was. Well, after I finished the doctorate, I came here for six months and then had two and a half year postdoc at the Naval Ordinance Laboratory. Then I worked at Idaho Falls at the chemical reprocessing plant and got run out of there and came to the DOE at Hanford for 20 more years—ten years with FFTF and ten years with the radioactive waste tanks. The waste coming from reprocessing fuel--reprocessing to recover the plutonium. And for a while, they were recovering the uranium, because we had huge quantities here that they wanted to use. They would put it back into service at another reactor. When I was here for six months as a summer prof--excuse me. That was really challenging, and when it was all over, I finally realized that what they had done was given me the unsolved problems of 17 years of operation. And it was daunting. One thing I worked out with caveman techniques—no computer, [LAUGHTER] nothing like that. But I had to know the chemistry used to separate CCM and strontium from the radioactive waste. And they were separated and put in a different place at high concentration. And then, those long half-lived isotopes, fission products, would not be in the humongous million-gallon tanks of waste. And they can use ion exchange resins to take out strontium. It's harder to do cesium, but they could do that, too.
Bauman: What years would this have been that you were working on this stuff with the tanks and so forth?
Hendrickson: Well in '71 as a summer prof, I did six months. And then, when I came back in '80--I came back to Hanford in '80, and I worked through the end of the century. The last ten years I worked on the tanks and the tank farms. Because of my technical interests, I would often get safety issues and the documentation that money is spent on in great quantities at facilities like this--environmental and safety documents. What was your question again?
Bauman: Oh, my question was just about the time period that you were working on the [INAUDIBLE].
Hendrickson: Oh, time period. Yeah. It was in the '70s. And at the post-doc at the Naval Ordnance Laboratory. I worked for a man that had been extracting and measuring cesium in natural waters. That means in a lake, a river, in the coastal waters, and up, I want to say Kamchatka. There's a string of islands that go from Western Alaska down, almost to the Siberian coast. And a lot of bombs had been tested in the atmosphere, and the fission products go up. They absorb on bomb casing material and sand and whatever happens to be for it to absorb on. And then it falls into natural waters. And the government, through its various agencies, keeps a track—kept monitoring this. And my mentor at the ordnance lab had been following cesium. And the sodium, potassium--oh my goodness, what's next? I want to say--it's been a long time since I had a chemistry course. They're very difficult to remove from anything. They don't readily form insoluble products. But there are a few compounds that can be precipitated from an aqueous solution to a salt that's insoluble that will take out some of these very soluble ions. And for cesium--cesium was a third one. Below sodium is lithium. If they mix a solution of nickel chloride, nickel sulfate, with a solution of sodium or potassium ferrocyanide, a precipitate will form. It'll be nickel ferrocyanide. And it starts with a couple of these getting together, and then some more bump into them, and more and more, until you get a real crystal. Well, when this goes on, the cesium is picked up, just as if it were a sodium. No, that's not right. It gets into the crystal structure. It's a foreign body, but it is incorporated into the crystal structure. And it's really a good extractor. It sucks up cesium to a very low concentration level. Well, then they can filter that out, and the cesium, as I said before, doesn't go to the big, million-gallon tanks. And that was good. We liked to keep track of our radioisotopes. Now these waste tanks, million-gallon waste tanks, everything goes in there. It's a dog's breakfast of processed chemicals and some things that shouldn't be in there. Now, as a kid, I knew about black gunpowder—potassium nitrate and sulfur and charcoal. And I knew how it would explode. Well, our tanks are chock-full of nitrates, which give off oxygen for the burning of sulfur and charcoal. It's an explosive, and a good one. Well, there you've got this oxidizing agent in huge quantities. And you've got nickel ferrocyanide intimately mixed with this oxidizer. And the cyanide radical is a carbon and a nitrogen. And carbon gives off a lot of energy when it's oxidized with CO2 or CO. So people would naturally wonder what might happen. And people study it, and people write papers on it, and senators say, oh my god, you find out what's going to happen! So they had a $25 million program to find out what happens in this mixture of oxidizer and ferrocyanide. And they assigned it to me. I had published in the area of cesium extractants and knew something about the chemistry. [LAUGHTER] And before I got very far into it, I tried to find out what was known about it. And there are guys here they call the graybeards. It was a senior process chemist. And they had thought it over and decided it's safe if it's wet. So that was in the back of my mind. And you may know about the—what is that? Committee? Nuclear facility safety committee, I think. Really smart guys, cream of the crop that really know their sciences. And they were set to looking at the government's nuclear facilities, because there were a lot of noise--horrible things are going to happen or have happened and the government's covered it over, that sort of thing. Well, that became one of their concerns. So, I've worked in civil service all of my life. I say I've never had an honest job. When problems come up and our government says that there's a problem, and we got to fix it, then a bunch of people are gotten together as part of a bureaucracy, and they take care of it. A lot of times, after that problem's gone, they still take care of things. But a very capable--Westinghouse at this time--man, and I can't remember his last name, Jim. He's a PhD physicist. He wrote up a program to thoroughly study this issue. And it was just talk what this National Committee wanted--that kind of approach. So we did five years of really good chemistry. And at the end, well, we proved that if it's kept wet, it's safe. But more importantly, we learned that the cyanide is decomposed. It's a rather energetic substance and readily reacts with other things. So it's not a cyanide anymore. And it's soluble in water, it's in the salt cake. Well that was a fun time. And I quickly learned that, okay, what is needed to satisfy the committee is to do good science. And by doing that, we may very well find a solution. And then the contractor and I had to close these issues. I think there were four or five reports we had to write to convince people that we have conscientiously studied and assessed the hazard and then state what remnant hazard there is, and get their buy off, and then I could go do something else. So there's a lot of management or bureaucratic processes that bedevil the technical manager nowadays.
Bauman: Mm-hm. During that time when you were working at the tanks, were there any problems with leaking or any of that sort of thing at that point?
Hendrickson: Oh, that and another things. [LONG PAUSE] I'm kind of uncomfortable talking about some of that, because there are people screaming the sky is falling! And there are some real problems, all right. [LAUGHTER] But throwing them into public conferences is kind of difficult. But it'll be handled with bureaucratic methods. And I--[LAUGHTER] when people say all things are terrible at Hanford, I say not to worry, there are plenty of hardworking taxpayers. And I'm afraid that they take it in the neck many times. But then, what is done out here in the cleanup is just amazing. I have always been concerned about radiation on health. And, of course, the bureaucratic approach, which worked very well--the health physics people here—Parker, an amazing man. What was done in radiation protection here at Hanford was first class, and, I think, very conscientious. I've heard about the very earliest limits of radiation exposure. At the time we started fissioning here, started the reactors operating, most of the data came from radiation therapy given to people, usually for cancer, but other problems as well. And the radium dial painters--do you know what that is?
Bauman: Mm-hm, yeah.
Hendrickson: People would get watches and clocks with radium mixed with the phosphorus, so it would glow. It glows all time, but you can see it in the dark. And they would be painted in, and the ladies that did that had little artist paint brushes. And they'd dip it in. And if they had to make a fine line, they would put it in their lips and rotate it. And died horribly from--radium's chemistry is like calcium, it goes to the bone. And it's a bad way to go. But they started out from that level. And I think they were very rational and very conservative. Since '44, we've learned a great deal, and we've lowered the limits.
Bauman: You mentioned earlier that you spent a period of time working at FFTF.
Hendrickson: Yes.
Bauman: I was wondering if you would talk about that a little bit at all? What sort of work you did there, and your experiences in that work?
Hendrickson: Bear in mind that in World War II, there were a number of things that were very useful and high technology. And America developed them and used them, and they contributed significantly to the successful outcome from our viewpoint, anyway, of the Second World War. And, of course, radar is one, sonar. I lost my train of thought. [LAUGHTER] Just a minute. Of course, I think the power levels of our early, primitive, first-built production reactors was up in several thousand megawatts of heat released. They were pretty big reactors. And people in the know said, that's a lot of power. Can we use it to power submarines that would not have to come up except for food and water, and could be submerged for a month? Well, smart guys in the Navy and the Atomic Energy Commission made it happen. And very soon, they had prototype power reactors online making electricity, putting it into the grid. And according to the cost estimates of the time, it would be very economical to produce power that way. And a lot of utilities got into that. And big companies like Westinghouse and Combustion Engineering, Babcock and Wilcox, and GE made power reactors and sold them, and they were run in this country and largely were very successful. And so people say well, let's look at the slope of this line. And by, I think it was the year 2000, we're going to have 1,000 big power reactors operating. And that's going to eat up the world's known supply of uranium. What will we do then? And, of course, a physicist said well, you can breed plutonium, and it makes a fine fuel for power reactors. And they proved that. And FFTF was a big part of the technology developed. And because of this projection, they made decisions in the late '60s—projections of 1,000 power reactors being used in America in the year 2000. In the late '60s, the Atomic Energy Commission committed itself to developing breeder reactors and started a really smart program to get the kind of knowledge necessary to use that kind of a reactor system. And for generations, the electric power generation in America had been increasing 7% a year. And people that we never give a thought to had seen to having that power available for us. And they put reactors in. They thought reactors were good, and safe, and economical. Well, the FFTF was kind of the last of the great efforts along this line. And they were going to build a demonstration plant at—not Chalk River. That's Canada. Do you recall that—?
Bauman: No.
Hendrickson: Well, they were going to build a prototype. It means a big, nearly full sized reactor. And the lead time on some of the stuff, sometimes the lead time is three or four years just to get billets to run through the rolling mills of a special alloy needed. So there was a lot of planning going on and ordering components. And the Arabs don't like our politics in the Middle East. And cut off delivery of oil, the price went way up. I'd heard that the cost of oil at a seaport in Saudi Arabia cost $0.25 a barrel, because it's so easy to drill, and it's easy to get out. And you can plan ahead on things like that. But our growth rate just, phew, and growth rate of electrical demand went down. And I don't know where it stands now, but the whole world went through [LAUGHTER] a technological crisis when that happened. And we had kind of a recession in this country. And a lot of the industry did not build in anticipation of growth. And they stopped building reactors. They finished the ones that were being built. And this projection of meeting 1,000 reactors in 2000 was way off. I think we've had around 200 power reactors. I'm not sure, something like that. But we kept this program going in spite of economic changes and projected electrical demand changes. Though what we did here was wonderful science. The Japanese just shook their heads when we decided to shut down FFTF. In their country, they don't do things like that. They should have run FFTF until the wheels fell off, because we'll need that data some time. And the materials development that took place at FFTF is just amazing. I have thought of NASA as doing wonderful things with science, and big projects that cost billions. But I think what was done here in fuel and materials developments is of that quality and that nature and being a very big effort.
Bauman: Let me ask you, during your working at Hanford—the different times you worked here—what you see as your biggest rewards working here and maybe your biggest challenges.
Hendrickson: Well, [LAUGHTER] certainly from my standpoint, a wild technologist, I appreciated that technical experience they were great things done here. And it's easier, just off the top of the head, it's easier for me to say the benefits I got. And I got to go to work in very large, very focused management systems. And I saw quite a bit of development of the individual engineers. The contractors were good at that, at least when we had long-term missions. Well, of course, in the early days when plutonium was the product, I didn't have any qualms about that. I kind of trusted of the government to be halfway humane if it were used in war. But at some point, I realized the system was crazy. The CIA in 1972 said that--I think it was '72, in a newspaper clipping I read--that we had more bombs at that time than we would ever use in a war. And we just kept producing until the environmentalists used the environmental regulations to shut down the production facilities. The CIA was dead right about having all we needed. And bureaucracies, once they get started, are self-fulfilling.
Bauman: You just mentioned the shift from production to clean up. Obviously, the mission changed. And you were here during both phases, I guess. I wonder, can you talk about how that shift impacted your work at all, or changes you saw as a result of that sort of change in mission?
Hendrickson: Well, the turnaround of the mission occurred before I got here in '80. It was thought--when I got here, we were deep into clean-up. When I worked as a summer prof in '71, I talked to the old timers. And they told me this one tank level goes up and goes down--up and down on a rather regular basis. And they didn't know why. I had no idea why. And now we know very well. I think we spend around $100 million getting that knowledge. And it was touted as a great incipient disaster. We're going blow those tanks up and blow that waste all over. So it was known, and it wasn't worried about at one point. People do get complacent, I guess. But then again they sited these facilities out in this unpopulated desert. Some people from the east--when they came out here--they come to the airport and get in town, and then they have to drive 55 miles out to the facility. Most of the world doesn't think that way. So we built in great depth of protection in simply where we sited it. One thing that they did--they released huge quantities, industrial quantities of carbon tetrachloride that was used in extraction and cleanup of plutonium. And they released it to the ground. I think there were thousands of gallons. And that's not smart to do that sort of thing. We released radioactive streams to the ground that were very, very, very low in radioactivity. And I don't worry about that sort of thing. It's not going to lead to any harm—in Wally's opinion. But some things [LAUGHTER] that they found out there are really amazing. These old timers that worked around the tank farm said they would throw radioactive tools, dirty, contaminated tools down in the tanks, and they would throw radioactive machines that they didn't want any more down in the tanks. This is just hearsay. [LAUGHTER] And the tanks whose level would rise and low were studied. I think it was around $100 million. They found out that there were radiolytic gases given off, and gases given off by chemical reactions. Even after decades in the tank, still going on. Well some of the gas attaches itself to particles so it doesn't bubble to the top. And that heavy sediment at the bottom gets lighter, and lighter, and lighter, and then it rises up and goes to the surface. And the gas bubbles expand, and they break. And you've got explosive gases in the tank. Well, guys told me that some of the fellas would like a match and drop it down the tanks, and light a piece of paper and let it float down into the tanks and go, woof! That's not firsthand information. [LAUGHTER] But people sure can get worked up about things.
Bauman: Security and secrecy are sort of always connected with Hanford. I wonder if you could talk about that all in terms of maybe the first time you were here in the 1950s--did you have a special clearance at all, and did security, secrecy change at all from the time you were here in the '50s--you were here later in the '80s?
Hendrickson: That's a subject I have strong feelings about. I think they did a very good job. And I trust their judgment that it was necessary. Yeah, it was part and parcel of living in Richland. I was told at one time, you had to have a security clearance to live in the town of Richland. And I think there a lot of the old timers here. I believe Richland has a very low crime rate, a carryover from those times, I think. People that they wouldn't give a security clearance to lived someplace else. They didn't come here. Of course, I was young, and what's the word? Impressionable. And I saw all of the guards and had a badge and would flash it. It got so when I'd go to a grocery store, I'd take my badge out. [LAUGHTER] Nuclear weapons kill people by the hundreds of thousands, or millions for the big hydrogen bombs. And we wouldn't want the technology, or bomb material, or the bomb itself in the hands of people that we don't want to have it. And when you think of the consequences of failure in the security area, you realize why they are so thorough. Now the rules are thought out carefully by experienced people. And the rules are pretty well written out. And people are able to follow those rules. So I think we owe a lot to the safeguards and security programs that have been part of this world.
Bauman: I wonder if you could talk about, overall, your thoughts on Hanford as a place to work.
Hendrickson: I was surprised when I came as an undergraduate at how happy the people were with the Tri-cities. They liked it. I'd come from mountainous timber land. [LAUGHTER] Being out here in this sandbox was something different. I think people like it here. As a technical guy, I was glad I was in this environment. I think the Richland Police Department is a couple notches above the average. I think that's a carry-over from the effort made in this area by the Manhattan Project. One bad thing about Hanford is that it would have economic ups and downs, really severe ones. And a number of times in my experience here, I've seen weeds growing in cracks in the sidewalks and closed businesses. It looks like we'll have a good economy here, this handling the cleanup is going to take decades. And I think they even haven't planned too much for the very end.
Bauman: Before we started recording, you were talking earlier--you mentioned something you had worked on during the Vietnam War. I know it's not directly related to Hanford, but I wondered if you might want to talk about that a little bit more.
Hendrickson: Well, there was a connection with Hanford. After I left that post-doc at the Naval Ordnance Lab, I worked at Idaho Falls with the Atomic Energy Commission, within a group that looked after the fuel reprocessing plant. And we would call it the chemical plant. And after I'd been there about a year, a message came from headquarters that they wanted volunteers to go to Vietnam to take out the highly enriched uranium that fueled a TRIGA-type reactor at Da Lat in South Vietnam. And they wanted people with health physics and TRIGA-reactor experience. Now I'd worked on a TRIGA reactor for ten years, and kind of by that a lightweight health physicist. And my buddy was a GS-14 health physicist at Idaho Falls. And he had been president of the western section of the—let’s see—the Health Physics Society. So he and I talked and said, yeah, we'll volunteer. And we were the only volunteers out of about 20,000 AEC people. When I worked at the radiation center in Pullman, I chummed around with a lot of the graduate students and post-docs. I really enjoyed that. And one of them developed into a friendship. He was a Vietnamese physicist trained at the University of Saigon. And some of their degrees are taken as the same level as the Sorbonne degrees in France at that time. And he worked on a nuclear engineering master's program. And he was earmarked to return to work at the reactor that was being built. It was quite a complex--they even had their independent power--diesel electric generator. Well, he wanted to stay for a doctorate in radiochemistry and started on that, but his country demanded he come back. And he worked at the reactor. And he and I corresponded. And he told me about meeting a small pharmacienne—I guess that's the technical—the feminine form of pharmacist in French. And I'd hear about his courtship and had a baby. And then he didn't answer my letters. And when I was in the DC area at the Naval Ordnance Lab, I called the Vietnam embassy, and the man I got had been my friend's boss at the reactor. And Ti was dead—La Banh Ti. And I'd learned about his experience- - he, and his wife, and his little girl Christine had gone up to Hue, where Ti's father lived for the Chinese New Year. That's a real big thing in Asia. Well, of course, that was in the time of the Tet Offensive. And Hue was overrun, including the citadel. And the American and Vietnamese forces eventually pushed them back. Ti had been seen by some of the Viet Cong, and one fellow knew him and fingered him. And he was taken as prisoner to a park and kept there. And after the Viet Cong realized they'd better retreat, the prisoners were taken out to the edge of the city and put in a ditch and shot, which isn't as bad as it might be, because sometimes they would douse them with gasoline and light it. Well I knew about the reactor in Da Lat from my association with Ti. And we--John Horan and I--John died probably 20 years ago--he was an airman in the Second World War. We said, yeah, we'll go. And that was sent back to Washington. That was Friday. And I went with a scout group up in the hills outside of Idaho Falls. And I'd made two toboggan-like things out of old skis with the seat on it, and the boys played with that. I went hiking, and I came across a pregnant doe. And I followed the tracks. I heard the noise, and I realized eventually that it was a pregnant doe, so I broke off. But I was doing that on the weekend. And Monday I took flight for Vietnam. And I didn't have a passport. So we made arrangements for special treatment with a passport office in San Francisco. [LAUGHTER] It was a hassle. The guy that was supposed to take care of that detail had gone to a dentist and not told anyone. When Horan got back, he wrote a bad letter to that guy's boss. But we got it. We finally got it--we got a visa from the Vietnamese and flew over--that's a long flight. And we were met at the airport by the first secretary--political military. He was a career department of state man. I think he's still alive. He's in his mid-90s. Just a first class person. Well the first thing he did when he recognized us was remind us that we were volunteers. It went downhill from there. We were to go up in a small plane just to reconnoiter, see what conditions were at the reactor. And, let's see--that must have been a four-seater. There were four of us that went up. Jay Blowers was his name. What was it--Air America, run by the CIA. And I couldn't see the compass--I sat in the back. But I could tell the direction by the sun. Instead of flying from Saigon north-northeast to Da Lat, we went directly east out over the South China Sea, and then north-northeast, and then directly west. And when I'd figured that out, I said why? And they said, well, the Viet Cong has very respectable anti-aircraft capability between those two cities. And I thought, okay. But when we got there--I think it's at 5,000 plus feet, and it's a wonderful place after you've been down at sea level in the tropics. And the French used it—developed it as a vacation area. And there was a college there, and a school for noncommissioned officers. And I saw all kinds of agriculture—oh, yeah, there was an agricultural school of some kind. Well, we came to an area that was nothing but clouds. And there were mountain peaks around. And we went round, and round, and round, trying to find a hole. And we were just about to the point where we would have to leave because we only had enough gas to make it back to Saigon. And the pilot saw a hole, and he went shoo! like that and leveled. And we were going straight towards a mountain. He went shoo! like that. And there was a landing field and plopped down on the field. It was so fast, I didn't get to react. I wasn't used to that kind of flying. Well we found the reactor in very good condition. And they had a fork truck which wasn't in good condition, and we needed a fork truck to lift shipping containers. The ones we got were brought by air from Bethesda Naval Hospital in DC. And they were 55 gallon drums. And they had a pipe--an ordinary plumber's type pipe. It was kind of big, though. Must've been six inches. And there were some lead around it. And then concrete around that. And they were pretty heavy. So we needed heavy handling equipment. And they had a bridge crane. Now, a lot of research reactors are built like this one, which is that in a round building, straight walls, and then a dome. And there's a ridge up at the top that a crane—polar crane, I think they call them—goes like this. And they had some problem with it, but they said it would work. And the water was in excellent condition, though they had shut it down since '68. The head of the reactor, the manager became a close friend, and he has died. You know this was in '75, March of '75. This is interesting; Wally did something smart--two things smart. When we were in Saigon, we quickly went over to the Vietnamese atomic energy office and said we're from the government, and we're here to help you. And we’d gotten sign off by the political type that was over such things as research. And we said we want your help, we want to go up and see what's there, and what we need to get the fuel out. And how hot is the fuel, stuff like that. Of course, they didn't know, because they hadn't fooled with it for seven years. And they had shut it down. I thought whenever, in the nuclear field, they do something like that, they write a safety report. So I asked, do you have a safety report? May I see it? And in the report, typically they do the thought experiment of, well what happens if the fission products are dispersed in the air, the whole bunch. And so I saw that they had figured out the amount of cesium and strontium. Those are the long half-lived elements. They wouldn't have gone down a little bit in seven years. They had that all worked out. And I said, well, from that amount of so many curies, at this distance, you'd get this dose rate. But we'll only take out one fuel element time--piece of cake. It's no problem. But anyway, we took out a fuel element, because we wanted to survey it. And Horan had bought our emergency response box. We had dosimeters and radiation instruments--some of them we got from Berkeley. I don't know how that was arranged. And we would take the fuel out with a long hose that had a gripper at the end. The TRIGA had a little post sticking up that was sort of arrow shaped, and a neck. And metal--a mechanical thing on this garden hose went on that post and clamped onto the neck. And we'd pull it to the surface. And that particular hose system had a history of dropping the fuel elements. So we immediately grabbed the fuel element in the bare hand and disconnected it. And a guy over there, about eight feet, would read it with a G-M tube. That's what this case was. Well the guy with serving instrument was down on the steps a ways. And he walked up, which also brings him closer. And we could hear the count rate--zeeeeee. And it stops. And people experienced with high sources and G-M tubes know [LAUGHTER] that it's saturated, and it's really hot, and you better get away. And Horan says oh, we got a divide by ten thing. We'll put that on it. Well, the thing that goes bad in counting the radioactivity is in the Geiger tube itself. So the divide by ten was useless. And we got--I said, well, let's just stand back farther. [LAUGHTER] And we got a good reading, a valid reading. That tickled me, that the Idaho health physicist hadn't picked up on the instrumentation they had for emergencies. Well let's see, I guess this might have been the second trip up there. But anyway, there was a little fence around the grounds and a guard's house at the entrance, and a lean-to made of bamboo on the side. And a family was living under that lean-to. And they had several children--one was really small. And I talked to them, and they didn't know English, but I talked to them anyway. And the little girl had--I don't know if they call it harelip, but anyway her two front teeth were growing on jawbone that was in front of her lip. And wars are expensive, and a lot of things are neglected because of that. I really hate to see war anyplace. Problems like that can be dealt with so easily. But I had some time, and I offered to give the children a tour through the reactor. I guess the guard spoke enough English. So I took them, and pointed to the crane and pointed to this great—oh dear, the reactor was in a silo-like concrete shield with water. And then we climbed a step up to the top. But anyway, I pointed to different things, and then I took them into the chem labs, and there was a model of the reactor. And I said--oh, see that reactor out here? Here's a model. And the oldest girl, you could just see her face light up. She understood, and she explained to the kids what it was. Well, then we went back to Saigon. And communicated with headquarters—Atomic Energy Commission headquarters. I found out that this was handled at a very high level. The White House decided who was going to pay for the recovery, and an Air Force general was given responsibility for transportation. And an AEC fellow course handled the AEC part. And I've met him.
Bauman: And the connection to Hanford was--
Hendrickson: Well. Oh! Oh yeah--do you have time? I can tell more about actually moving the fuel.
Bauman: Just a little more, yeah.
Hendrickson: Well, we got the fuel out. The C-130 was overloaded, and we didn't know it. And the airport runway was on top of a hill, and we had to fight off people that wanted to take refuge in our plane and be taken out to the south. And the plane was backed up. And the engine revved up as high as it'll go with the brakes on, and then the brakes are released. And it starts out about like a baby buggy, just rumbling along and the engines are straining. And it did pick up speed, but at this time I could see out the pilot's window, and we didn't so much take off as we ran out of runway and there were farmhouses outside the wings. And we got back. And then these heavy casks were loaded on a different kind of airplane--C-141, and taken to Johnson Island, and then to the States. And some of the elements came here to Hanford and were used in the FFTF complex for experimental work. And I met the director of that reactor. He is a good man.
Bauman: Now, that's quite a story. Are there any—beginning to wrap up here--anything I haven't asked you about or anything you think is important to talk that we haven't talked about yet?
Hendrickson: Anything else I think might be important?
Bauman: Yeah, that I haven't asked you about or that we haven't talked about yet that you'd like to say sort of briefly here at the end?
Hendrickson: Oh, there are a number of things--I probably could think a little bit. Maybe I'll make some notes and contact you.
Bauman: And we could always schedule another,
Hendrickson: If it seems worthy, I'll contact you.
Bauman: Okay. I want to thank you a lot for coming in today. I really appreciate you sharing your memories and your experiences.
Hendrickson: Yeah. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: All right.
Northwest Public Television | Roop_Betty_Jane
Robert Bauman: Ready to go? All right. OK, we'll go ahead and start.
Betty Jane Roop: Okay.
Bauman: Let's start by having you say your name and spell it for us.
Roop: Okay. My name is Betty Jane Roop. R-O-O-P is the last name.
Bauman: Thank you. My name is Robert Bauman and today's date is July 22nd of 2014. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And you go by Jane.
Roop: I go by Jane. Mm-hm.
Bauman: So let's start, Jane, if you could talk about how and when your family arrived here in the Tri-Cities. What brought your family here?
Roop: Okay. My dad ran away when he was about 13 years old, 14 years old and he ended up in the Roundhouse at Pasco. And eventually made his way back home, but always remembered this place. And so when he was out of the service for World War II, he decided we'd move here because there was work. And so we came in 1949 and lived here until the Army base closed down in North Richland in '56, '57. And so that's how we got here.
Bauman: And how old were you at the time?
Roop: I was about five.
Bauman: And do you have any memories, or what are some of your earlier memories of the area?
Roop: I guess the earliest memory was living in what's called old Navy housing in Pasco. That was kind of a community and I remember playing there as a kid. And then we lived there for a while. And then we move to the trailer court in North Richland and I started kindergarten there. And some of my earliest remembrances are how cold it was walking to school. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: What was the trailer camp like? Could you describe that at all?
Roop: Well, it was the largest trailer camp in the world and we were very proud of that. And it was just block after block of trailers. And there was approximately, oh, I don't know, let's see, 20 trailers on each side of a block and they were usually divided up, and there was a big bath house in the middle. Because at that time, a lot of the trailers didn't have washing machines or even bathrooms. So in the middle of that block was a big cement house, bathroom, wash room, and that kind of thing. And it was a wonderful place for kids to grow up. There were lots of kids around all the time and we would live very close and I remember it just being a very safe environment, especially during the summer when we would play until it was dark, and often hid in that bath house.
Bauman: And what about the school? What was the school like?
Roop: Well, at John Ball, it was a huge Quonset hut school. It had a long center part, kind of like a centipede. And then off of that long center part came the classrooms. And again, one of the things I remember as a kid is that you couldn't get in. And during the winter, you had to wait until the halls were open to get inside and it was very cold. And at that time, girls, you weren't allowed to were dresses—or pants. You had to sort of wear pants underneath your dress. So you would dress kind of double layer with a dress on top and the pants underneath because it was so cold and you had to wait outside to get in. But my first goal was to become a hall monitor so I could get in out of the cold. [LAUGHTER] And the younger, the first, second, third grades were on one end and the fourth, fifth, and sixth were on the other end. And it was a small school, a relatively small school. But I remember lots of fond memories of that school and I started kindergarten there and left in sixth grade when they closed it down.
Bauman: And was it like K through eight, or do you know how--
Roop: I don't think we went through eighth grade. I think it only went through sixth.
Bauman: Okay.
Roop: Yeah. I'm pretty sure. It was just through sixth. And I think they went into Richland then, to one of the schools there.
Bauman: So what sort of job did your father have then?
Roop: He was first a teamster and worked loading, getting people to and from the site from a major--there was a huge bus center. In fact, I think it's still there to some extent. And he worked there as a teamster. And then after a few years, he took training and became a pipe fitter and was a pipe fitter out there until it closed down.
Bauman: And where had you lived before this?
Roop: We came from Oklahoma. My dad was in the Navy until, I think about after the war, '44, '45. He was stationed in Hawai’i. And after the war, we came out here, because it was a time of just finding work and it was a lot of work here.
Bauman: And did you have any idea what sort of place Hanford was, what sort of work was being done at Hanford?
Roop: You know, as a kid, what I remember most is all the kind of secrecy and the whispering. Like you didn't know what was really going on, but Rattlesnake Mountain to us kids was always a very mysterious place. Because it was like over there, there was something really big and scary. So I remember that being—because it dominates the landscape even today. And nobody really talked about their work, but you knew things were going on there that you couldn't talk about.
Bauman: So you lived in the trailer camp from about 1950 or so?
Roop: Yeah, it was about '50 to '56, '57, and there was a big Army base out there. And when they closed the Army base, they closed a lot of the trailers. It shrunk in size. So a lot of people moved from one part of the trailer court to another part if they were still employed. And so it kind of shrunk and it's mostly where Battelle is right now--
Bauman: Right. Right.
Roop: --where that area where all the trailers were and the school and everything.
Bauman: And what about your family then? What happened to your family?
Roop: After they closed down, my dad worked, I think it was only less than a year and then he went back in the Navy. And from there then he went for training in Oklahoma, and then he went to the Philippines, and then we moved as a family to Midway Island, and then came back here. He got out of the Navy again in about '61, '60, I think it was, and then we came back here to this area and lived here pretty much ever since. Until my dad died, he lived here—1991. So we came back in about '60, '61 and he was here until he is death in '91.
Bauman: And he came to work at Hanford?
Roop: He didn't. He did for a while, and then he became an independent trucker, which was always his passion.
Bauman: And so how old were you then when you came back?
Roop: I was a junior in high school when we came back. So I left when I was in sixth grade and then came back when I was a junior.
Bauman: And which high school did you go to then?
Roop: Col High. Columbia High. I was a Bomber, still a Bomber.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And what was the community like when you came back and high school? Could you describe that?
Roop: Well, when I came back, of course, North Richland was no longer here. And all those usual signs and maybe people have talked about this—well, where we're sitting now was an area where we did some hunting and bringing our dogs down next to the river. And then on the other side of the GW Way was a huge outdoor theater right below that hill. And all of these kind of landscape—that landscape was pretty much gone by then. And we moved into a smaller trailer court for a little while on Stevens Drive, right off of Stevens Drive. And then my dad did go—I think he might have returned to work for a little bit out at Hanford as a pipe fitter, but as soon as he kind of got himself organized, he bought a truck and started trucking in the area.
Bauman: So going back then to your earlier childhood in North Richland, were there services there and in the trailer camp, grocery stores or something?
Roop: Yes. Yes, there was. There was a theater that I remember very well, and it was actually on the Army base and almost everything was. There was a grocery store and I can't remember the name of it. There was a post office. There was a theater. There was a beautiful little park that we used to ride our bikes to that kind of looked at the grocery store. Maybe there was a block between or maybe a quarter mile, but a nice little park there.
Bauman: Like a park with play equipment, sort of thing?
Roop: Not play equipment, but trees and benches. Yeah. And we didn't really leave the area to do grocery shopping at all. If you wanted to go, there wasn't any place to really eat. There was not like diner or a cafe. And I remember we used to go into the Thrift Way into Richland every Friday night for a roast beef sandwich dinner. [LAUGHTER] And my mother worked in that grocery store for a little while as a checker.
Bauman: Do you remember the name of the theater?
Roop: I don't remember the name, and it was just right there on the Army post. And then, of course, later, the one downtown--well, there's the old, The Players where The Players are now. But there was another theater, sort of where the Desert--I'm remembering the old name, but where the Red Lion Hotel is. But there was another theater there in that block, a regular movie theater. And I can remember going there as a child and mostly seeing war movies that scared me, because they made a lot of stuff like that after the war, about the war.
Bauman: Were there any doctors’ offices in North--did you have come into Richland for medical appointments?
Roop: Yes, yes, we did. I don't remember them being any doctors and I had asthma as a child and I was often—4:00 in the morning we were heading somewhere. But mostly all of those kind of services were actually in Richland. And certainly in '62 when we got back, it was all still in Richland. And I was a patient of Dr. Corrado’s for many years. And he's a well-known physician in the neighborhood, in the community.
Bauman: Right. So at what point did you become aware of what was being made at Hanford, the work that was being done at Hanford?
Roop: I don't think I really understood for years what was really going on there. I think I was an adult before I really knew that they were making plutonium and uranium and things like that. Because we just didn't talk about it. You just didn't talk about it. And I guess the only thing, really, I would say was that we had to do the drills that you do that most kids did by--with their head over, you know, putting--
Bauman: Desk cover.
Roop: --underneath your desk and all that. We—in fact, that is one of the poem I wrote that's in Particles on the Wall is about. Our drill was too right to go outside and there was a huge, sandy ditch, huge, long ditch--I don't know if you've ever seen a picture of it, I brought one--where we had to go outside and lay down in the ditch face down with our hands like this, in this ditch. And so we always knew it was often very scary and we knew that we were in a place that was targeted. I think kids felt that. That we were in a dangerous place because of the area, but we didn't know why. And we didn't know what it was. And I was trying to remember when exactly I knew what they made. And it wasn't--I think for sure I was an adult. And I talked with a fellow who worked in one of the plants out there. He explained to me how those plants really worked, like a pressure cooker and everything. And do you know something? I think I was 30-some years old before I really knew. So you just had all these--the innuendo of it.
Bauman: You had some sense it had to do with defense or something.
Roop: Defense, and it was scary. And of course, in high school, we knew of the bomber, so we knew of the bomb. I think I must have realized that part of what they did out there was making that bomb, but I can't tell you exactly how I got to know it.
Bauman: Right. So you were in North Richland from about kindergarten through about sixth grade, you said.
Roop: Mm-hm.
Bauman: Did you stay in touch with any of the families or any of your friends in that school?
Roop: Yes. There were the Keyeses. Yes, they had kids my age and we played together an awful lot. So there was three families that I sort of knew after that, but the Keyeses I did stay in touch with and they had a son a couple years younger than I was and he died about 10 or 15 years ago. He was younger and his brother died even at a younger age. I did stay in touch with them in knew them many years after. But it's funny. I know that there are other families, but we didn't stay too much in touch. There was about four families that every now and then we'd run into. But we didn't socialize and didn't get together like that except the Keyeses.
Bauman: You mentioned a little bit earlier the drill of laying down in the ditch in the sand. Were there any other things that you remember from growing up that were connected to Hanford?
Roop: Like the secrecy?
Bauman: Yeah, the secrecy, or anything.
Roop: Well, I knew that you couldn't go across--you could only drive out on the highway that goes north so far and then there was a checkpoint. And of course, when I grew up, there was no road that you could drive across to Vantage.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Roop: Okay. That was all restricted area. And I think you could go as far as what was the first gate and then take sort of a left and go west to Yakima, but all of that area was off limits. And you know, I can't even remember the Geiger counter things that I know some of the people, the poets who read in Particles on the Wall, they remember the Geiger counters and that kind of thing. But I can't say I even remember that. Yeah.
Bauman: So in looking back at those years, overall, how would you describe your childhood, I guess, in North Richland?
Roop: Well--and that's what my poem is about--in many ways, because it was a small community and we all lived very close together, pretty much everybody knew what everybody else was doing and all the kids played together or didn't, but everybody knew who was fighting with who. That was a wonderful part, but it had this dark kind of cloud over it that was kind of scary as a kid. And the other thing that I remember from that time in the trailer court is that we had a ghetto inside the trailer court. And not too many people really remember this, that there was still segregation and all of the black people lived in one block, sort of in the middle of the school. And I only remember--and I went back and I saw pictures of John Ball's schools, each class, and there was one black boy named Maurice in there, but he was the only one. And I used to love walking through that area because it smelled so good, of all kinds of smells, cornbread and black eyed peas and greens and stuff. And so I remember that area and one person that I was describing that to who read my poem was very upset. She said, well, that's not true, but it really was true. We did have that area.
Bauman: Well, yeah. I know much of the Tri-Cities was segregated at the time too. So about how large of an area was that then, with the trailer area that was the black area, I guess.
Roop: It was very small. I would say it was one block. Just one block, maybe on each side. So we're talking maybe up to 30 or 40 families, maybe, but very small and one child, one black child in that school.
Bauman: And they only had one child in the school.
Roop: Mm-hm.
Bauman: And that was like that as far as you can remember, the whole time you were--
Roop: Yes, that there was a segregated area, yes.
Bauman: Interesting.
Roop: Yeah.
Bauman: Do you have your poem with you?
Roop: Yes, I do.
Bauman: I wonder if it might be good to have you read it.
Roop: Okay. I would be happy to.
Bauman: Because that would tie in with the answer you've been giving to my questions and so forth.
Roop: Okay. And I have that and then I also have--it's kind of a bad picture, but I can't get it any better, and you might off the internet—but of the children actually lying in the ditch. That was in The Tri-City Herald, and I found it on the archive site for the Col High Bomber site. And it does tell on that site--and I do have it at home, I just didn't bring it—of who took the picture. And I believe that that was taken somewhere in the early '50s.
Bauman: Do you remember how regularly these drills happened?
Roop: About once a month.
Bauman: Okay.
Roop: About once a month.
Bauman: Wow. Okay.
Roop: And so if you want me to do this, I'd be glad to do that.
Bauman: Yeah. That would be great, I think.
Roop: Okay. And took a class in how to read your poetry, so let me get in the mindset here.
Bauman: Sure.
Roop: Because I've read it a couple of places and--Okay. "North Richland Childhood," by Jane Roop. "We came from Oklahoma, Momma, Daddy, and me after the war, dirt poor, to live in a 20-by-8-foot trailer on a 30-by-30-foot lot with other electricians, pipe fitters, teamsters, janitors, proud to be part of this atomic business, living in the largest trailer court in the world. Big enough to have our own ghetto, two blocks of dark, delicious smells, frying fish, boiled greens, hot cornbread. Once a month, from the top of tall poles, warning sirens wailed. The schoolchildren, black and white, raced by swings, monkey bars, the tetherball ring, to the sandy ditch behind John Ball Elementary. Strung ourselves down like paper dolls, clinching our fear behind closed eyes. A useless attack, a defense against a nuclear attack, but we would have been easy to bury there." And I did find out later that there was some science behind being in a ditch. According to one of my scientific friends here now, they thought that if you were in a ditch and sort of down that the wave would pass you by. But as a child, it never made any sense. But that's the poem and that's traveling with Particles on the Wall.
Bauman: Right. Thank you very much for reading that. That's great.
Roop: You're welcome.
Bauman: As you were talking, I thought of one other thing that I hadn't asked you. Were there any places of worship, any churches--
Roop: Oh, yes.
Bauman: --at camp there?
Roop: Oh, yeah. I don't remember them being in the camp. We went to the Lutheran church on George W. Way that is now the Chinese. And then, of course, there was, still is the huge Baptist church there. And so during my childhood, I attended both of those at different times. Yes, but I can't remember and I'm sure there must have been on the base something for people, but we didn't attend there. We went into Richland.
Bauman: Okay. Great. Is there anything I haven't asked you about or that you think is important to share that you haven't been able to mention yet?
Roop: Well, I was just trying to think. It was just a special time, special memories. It's funny. As kids, you do remember things that were scary.
Bauman: It's also very unique. I mean, not a lot of people grow up in a place like that, connected to something like that.
Roop: Yes. And of course, we were always afraid of the rattlesnakes. [LAUGHTER] And the river because at that time the river was very fast when we first moved here. It wasn't dammed up, and it was always a great threat. And one of our things was not to go to the river. You don't go down there. And of course, that's where we went, you know. That's the way kids are. But I can remember that being very frightening.
Bauman: Right.
Roop: But other than that, yeah. Good memories too.
Bauman: Right. Well, thank you very much for coming and sharing your stories today.
Roop: You’re welcome.
Bauman: I appreciate that very much.
Roop: Okay. Yeah.
Bauman: Do you have a couple of minutes?
Man one: Yes.
Roop: And I was trying to remember because I lived at 825 E Street. And I think it was A Street, down by the river, but I can't remember exactly.
Bauman: Oh, okay. We'll go ahead.
Man one: Would you mind your adjusting your microphone?
Roop: Oh.
Man one: It's sort of just kind of twisting a bit.
Roop: There. Does that do it?
Man one: Excellent. Thank you.
Bauman: So I wonder if you could talk about the housing differences with the different classes of workers.
Roop: Okay. Sure. What I remember most, of course, is that all the administrative people and scientists were living in houses in Richland in the ABC houses and that kind of thing. All the blue collar workers, electricians, pipe fitters, janitors, anything like that, North Richland trailers. And then there was sort of a mixed class that lived in houses down along the river, close to the river, but parallel to the trailer court, and they had houses as well. And there was approximately, I'm trying to think, maybe one row down kind of on the river, then one row kind of back just a little bit. And I believe that that was A Street—A and B. I lived on E Street. So that's how I remember that. And then, of course, there was the Army base where people lived there as well.
Bauman: Right. So you were you aware of that sort of growing up?
Roop: Oh, yes. You betcha. Oh, yeah. Yes. Because living in a trailer house was always at least then, rather, I mean, you were poor and you knew you were poor. And you knew you were poor, for me, because I couldn't wear the same kind of clothes that other kids wore. And that goes back forever, doesn't it? That I can remember it was a very big deal to buy a Pendleton skirt, a wool skirt. It was very expensive, and my mother bought me one, one time. And that was a great treat. Do you remember Laverne and Shirley and the poodle skirts and that kind of thing? That's the way it was then. Yeah. So there was very definitely class distinctions.
Bauman: Did you talk about it in your family at all or is it just sort of an understood thing?
Roop: I think the only way it really came out was, for me, was the clothes. I don't remember--as soon as you could, you moved up into a trailer, the first one that we lived in, like in the poem, didn't have a running toilet and I don't believe a shower. So the first thing that you did was try to get a trailer big enough and wide enough so that you could have a bathroom. We never had a wash room and you hung your clothes up on a big drying area. They had clotheslines in the bath house region. And I've always thought, I bet you that's the reason everybody use Clorox because in those days, everybody got to see your linen and your underwear. [LAUGHTER] Everybody could tell whether it was white or not because that's the way things were then. And I can remember getting washed in one of those big, square, cement tubs when I got like a ringworm. What do you call that? And you had to go and be washed in that kind of thing and that was the biggest place where I could be in something like a bathtub. So I was washed in that big bathtub in the wash house. But then as soon as you could get a big enough trailer, and then, of course, the next step was to try to get a house.
Bauman: A house.
Roop: Yeah.
Bauman: Right. All right. Thank you very much.
Roop: You're welcome. You're welcome. Yeah.
Northwest Public Television | Sutter_Sue
Robert Bauman: Well, I think we're ready to get started.
Sue Sutter: All right.
Bauman: So let's start by having you say your name and spell your last name for us.
Sutter: Sue Sutter, S-U-T-T-E-R.
Bauman: Great, thank you. And my name is Robert Bauman, and we're conducting this oral history interview on July 23rd of 2014, on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So I wonder if you could start by telling us, first of all, when you came to Hanford and what brought you here.
Sutter: Well, it all started when I was in college. I was at Washington State. It was a college then. And they came up there and interviewed, and they gave most of us jobs. They needed warm bodies down here. And so I had a job when I came down here in June 21st of 1948.
Bauman: And what did you major in in college at WS--?
Sutter: Chemistry. They needed a lot of chemists. And then when I came here, my folks brought me over from Seattle in a car. And we came to North Richland. Well, I signed in downtown, and we came out to North Richland, where I was supposed to go. And where I was assigned to live, at least temporarily, was in North Richland. It had a wire, a cyclone fence around it, topped by three rows of barbed wire. I think it was made for prisoners of war or something like that. I didn't think my parents were going to leave me there, but they did. And I'd never seen one before. They had a community shower, you know, like the men have. I was the only person there. And the next day, they found me a place downtown. I was in W5. W5 was the women's dorm. And it was right above the Green Hut Cafe, where everybody ate all the time, because that's about what it was, that and Thrifty Drug. And when I was there, I met some of the—it was when I was going through the hospital, one of my friends from college was working there, and she happened to be in the same dorm. And I went. That was about it. And I don't remember starting work. And where do you want to go from here now?
Bauman: Well, what was your first job? What sort of work were you doing?
Sutter: Oh, what they called essential materials. It was in 300 Area. And everything that came on to the plant had to be chemically verified. And that was what that job was. And I was working there for about three years. And then I got married. That's where I met my husband. He was in the lab, too—a chemist.
Bauman: What were your first impressions when you arrived in the area here? Do you remember?
Sutter: No, I don't. After you've gone away to college, I went over on the train from college, you're used to things changing at that time. It didn't strike me as odd at all. What was odd was that when I first came, I was in North Richland and I had to eat out of the cafeteria there. And it was all full of construction workers. [LAUGHTER] But I survived. But I was only out there a couple of days, and then I moved to town.
Bauman: And you said you worked for three years out at the 300 Area then?
Sutter: Yes.
Bauman: And you met your husband. Was your husband also working there?
Sutter: Yeah, we were in 3706 Building, which has long since been destroyed.
Bauman: And you mentioned your dorm was right above the cafe.
Sutter: Yeah. Oh, that's it. And there were a lot of young people here. They had money and no place to go. And so every weekend—a few of them had cars—so we all left town. And we went down to Lost Lake in Oregon on one trip. And I remember one trip we went to Long Beach, Washington, and just various around here. Because there was nothing here. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: I was going to ask you, was there anything in town for entertainment?
Sutter: Oh, I think there was a movie theater. And Thrifty Drug. I don't recall any particular entertainment. Of course, we were here for working. Well, that's why we left town.
Bauman: So after three years working at the 300 Area, you got married. Where did you live it at point then?
Sutter: Oh, we were able to get a house. Houses were assigned to married people. We lived on Farrell Lane. And we lived there for about three years. And then they decided they were going to sell all the houses, and that's when we bought the house in Kennewick. You have the information on selling the houses.
Bauman: Right, yes.
Sutter: We were the junior tenants in a duplex.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Sutter: And we moved to Kennewick, and we stayed there ever since. We were lucky to find a house that worked very well for us over there.
Bauman: So let's go back to your work, then, a little bit. What was your work like? How was it as a place to work, the 300 Area, when you were there?
Sutter: It was just a lab. There were a lot of funny people working there, different people working there. One of the technicians, she stole all the cheesecloth, and she wrapped it around her head and took it out with her every day. [LAUGHTER] But I can't remember much of working. I'm sorry.
Bauman: That's okay. That's fine. And did your husband continue working then there at the same area?
Sutter: No, after I got pregnant, I stayed home. And it was 1965, I think, when I went back to work. I worked for Battelle. And I worked there until I retired.
Bauman: And what kind of job was that?
Sutter: Well, it varied. At Battelle, you do whatever needs to be done. And I was—I've forgotten. I was working at a lab at first. And I ended up helping with quality assurance for some of the people. That was a good job.
Bauman: And how long did you work there, then?
Sutter: I retired in 1968. Is that right?
Man one: I think it was after I got out of high school. Did you tell them about you were a wind tunnel scientist?
Sutter: Oh, yeah, I worked in atmospheric sciences after some time at Battelle. And I operated a wind tunnel. And this was for—they were trying to find out how much would blow around out on the site. And so we went out and picked up samples on the dirt. And then we put measured amounts in the wind tunnel and see how far it goes and how long it stayed there, that type of information. And all this went into the environmental impact statement that they had to make when they were operating. And the annoying thing is, everybody thought my husband did that work. [LAUGHTER] It's the way it was.
Bauman: When you first came in 1948 and were in the women's dorms, did you take buses to get out to the site?
Sutter: Yes. But I don't remember anything. I know we had to take buses. You could not drive cars in on the site then. Oh, that's it. We took one bus, and we went up to the bus lot, and then you got on to the bus that took you out to where you were working. Quite an operation.
Bauman: And when you then went back to work in the '60s, were you still taking buses? Or were you driving your own car out there?
Sutter: There were still buses. I've forgotten where I was working. And then for a while, when I got transferred out to the atmospheric sciences building, the meteorological station, I rode out to that area with my husband. Because he was in 2-West at that time. He was a supervisor.
Bauman: And when you started working in 1948 as a chemist, were there are a lot of other women chemists at Hanford at the time?
Sutter: There were several of us, about five or six—I mean, considering all, yes.
Bauman: So you lived in Richland for a while, got married, then you moved to Kennewick. Is that right?
Sutter: Yes.
Bauman: Okay. One of events that happened, I know, was in 1963, President Kennedy came to dedicate the N Reactor. Do you remember that at all?
Sutter: Oh, I remember it. I took my three children out there with me. I was not working then, and then we drove out there. And all I can remember is this one over here, she ran away. And I decided I wasn't going to even be worried about her, because I wanted to see Kennedy. He was quite a charismatic person. And Paul was there, too. We were all there. And I have another daughter, too.
Bauman: Do you remember much about the day itself?
Sutter: It was about 80 degrees. Oh, and I can remember Kennedy was so surprised when he started the reactor with a probe of some kind. A lot of traffic. Took me a long time to get home. My husband had gone out there. Everybody who worked there went there on buses, and so he got home way long time before I did. [LAUGHTER] It was well attended.
Bauman: Do you remember any other events or incidents, things that happened when you either were working at Hanford or living in the area here?
Sutter: I can't think of any right now.
Man one: What about your dorm social clubs?
Sutter: My what?
Man one: The social clubs in the dorm?
Sutter: Oh, yeah, we belonged to the dorm club. That's the one that we went someplace every weekend. That's just the dorm club. Oh, and they had dances in town, too. In fact, I think I brought over a picture of one of those if you—you can have them.
Bauman: Great.
Man one: The Sadie Hawkins Day dance.
Sutter: They don't have Sadie Hawkins anymore.
Bauman: They do, actually.
Sutter: Do they?
Bauman: The high schools do.
Sutter: Okay, but we were all just a little bit older. But you just had to make your own entertainment. And that was a good one.
Bauman: So did you and your husband meet at work?
Sutter: Yes.
Bauman: At the 300 Area?
Sutter: Actually in 300 Area. Oh, and another thing we used to do is everybody drank beer. We'd go out by the Yakima River and drink beer after work in the evening, swing shift or something. It was just fun.
Bauman: Mm-hm. So you've seen a lot of change in the time that you--
Sutter: Oh, my Lord, yes.
Bauman: Obviously one change that happened at Hanford was a shift from production to cleanup.
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: I don't know if you want to talk about that a little bit.
Sutter: Well, all I did was run the wind tunnel. We generated information so they could do the environmental impact statement before they started doing something out there. And we'd go out in the field, and I know they had picked up all kind of material to run through the wind tunnel to see what happened to it.
Bauman: I know there was a lot of emphasis on security at Hanford and secrecy. Can you talk about that at all, what that was like?
Sutter: It was pretty straightforward. You had a badge, and you had to show it every time you went in and out. And it went pretty easily.
Bauman: Were you able to talk about your work at all?
Sutter: You weren't supposed to. But it wasn't interesting work, so I didn't want to talk about it anyway. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And what about the community itself? How did that change over the years?
Sutter: Well, the community, they built the ranch houses. And we got a lot of bad dust storms then. And I was home with children, and you just don't get out in the community much. There wasn't much here that’s all.
Man one: Mom?
Sutter: Yes?
Man one: Did you ever talk about an incident, I guess you were down on the river and security came out to see what you were doing or something like that?
Sutter: I don't remember anything like that.
Man one: Oh, okay. I thought I—Or boating or something and the army showed up?
Woman one: Well, there was a--
Sutter: You should have prepped me for this.
Woman one: Wasn't there a military base, too?
Sutter: A what?
Woman one: A military base out there, Camp Hanford?
Sutter: Well, yeah, Camp Hanford was there for a while, yeah. I don't remember. I wasn't working when it was Camp Hanford. I can remember baking a cake for the soldiers. That's about it.
Bauman: Oh, did you?
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: Was there a specific reason for baking a cake?
Sutter: Oh, I belonged to a club. And that was their project that they were on, and so I've participated, just once that I can remember. We lived in a B house. Oh, and all the coal was furnished free, coal furnace in the basement. [LAUGHTER] You don't know about those. My husband called it the iron monster because you'd have to bang it so it would start the next morning. He was on shift work, and it's not the best way to go.
Bauman: So were you renting the B house then?
Sutter: You paid some rent. There was nominal rent. It was cheap. And as I remember, they furnished the coal. And if something happened, you just called down, like my dear son, he's flushed potatoes down the toilet. And you'd call somebody, and the plumber comes out immediately and takes care of it.
Man one: And what did you do that night for dinner?
Sutter: I gave you potato soup. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So a lot of the service or repair work was--
Sutter: It was done by somebody. They were just like a landlord. But you had to mow the lawn and water it.
Bauman: You had to take care of yard, that sort of thing. So how long did your husband work at Hanford then?
Sutter: Until he retired. I think he worked there for 50 years. No, not that long.
Woman one: Well, if he was working in '76 when I was in high school.
Sutter: Yeah, I don't remember how long. But he worked there until he retired. It was a good job. You could move from job to job at that time because it was all under one contractor. And he worked in 2 East and 2 West as well as I think North Richland.
Bauman: So what was the most challenging--was there any part of your work that you did at Hanford that you would think was sort of the most challenging thing that you did or the most rewarding?
Sutter: I think the most fun was just before I retired. It was when I was running a wind tunnel, and it was out in 2 East Area in an old evaporator building. I remember there were just the two of us. I was there with a technician, and we had a wind tunnel. And all these things that we’d gathered out on the terrain, we'd put them in the wind tunnel to see what they were going to do and how far they would go. And then this was put into a report that I wrote. And the annoying thing is, everybody thought my husband wrote it. Because they just put it with your initials.
Bauman: What were the findings of that report? Do you remember what did you--
Sutter: I have no idea. It didn't matter to us. This much went along, and if you're a researcher, you just give them the results. I think they were able to do all the work anyway. But it was fun. You'd go out, and you'd gather up these—there were rabbits out there. And they liked to sit on top of the hills. And so that was a rich place to get samples. Research is really fun work. Because it doesn't matter. You get an answer. And that's the answer. If they don't like it, that's their problem.
Bauman: Overall, then, how was Hanford as a place to work?
Sutter: Well, I unfortunately had a manager—I shouldn't--he was Mormon. And he didn't think women should be working. However, the next level up really believed in women. So he's the one that--I was treasurer for the local ACS. And I wanted to go to the meeting in Hawai’i. And my immediate manager wouldn't let me, but the next one up sent me. When you're an officer, they usually will let you go to something like that. So that's how I got to Hawai’i. I figure all the men do it, and so I was trying to do the same thing.
Bauman: That's a good place to go for a conference.
Sutter: Yeah, oh, yes. One of the women from another contractor was there, and she even came to the meetings in her bathing suit, if came at all. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: When was this about that you did that?
Sutter: Well, I was still working, so I don't really--
Bauman: The '60s?
Sutter: Yeah. I can't remember that long ago.
Bauman: Is there anything I haven't asked you about yet or that you haven't talked about that you think is important to talk about?
Sutter: No, I can't think of anything.
Man one: What was it like being a woman and working in this area, predominantly male?
Sutter: Well, that didn't bother me except some of them are prejudiced against women. And actually, when I was out, we had the lab out where the wind tunnel in 2 East. And the fellow I worked with was really good. He was a farmer from over in Pasco. He raised apples. But he would just do anything that needed to be done. It didn't matter whether you were a woman or man. He'd do anything. Oh, the funny thing about that is the building that we had, they had a restroom in it. And they didn't have a door on it. So my manager had them put a door in it. But they put a door in it with a window. [LAUGHTER] So they had to change the door.
Bauman: That didn't help a whole lot, did it?
Sutter: No, but there were just the two of us working there. We had to report over to the Atmospheric Sciences building and then drive over to where the wind tunnel was.
Bauman: Oh, I see, okay.
Woman one: Mom, you shared with me the difficulty at getting a raise, the difficulty getting a raise in pay.
Bauman: Did you have difficulty getting a raise?
Sutter: Oh, yeah. My manager said the raise is--this is more than I wanted to give you. He wanted the raises for the men, because they have a family to take care of. He doesn't realize I have all these kids to take care of, too, and one daughter who went on to college and is now an engineer out there.
Bauman: Were you able to get the raise?
Sutter: Oh, yeah, oh, yes. You have to be persistent.
Bauman: Do you happen to remember what your salary was, say, when you started in 1948 at all?
Sutter: It's about $100 a week. I don't really remember. It was adequate for the time.
Bauman: Do you remember any other challenges being a woman working there in the 1940s and 1960s?
Sutter: Well, like that this one manager who just didn't believe in women.
Bauman: But you said the person above him--
Sutter: Just fine person, yeah. And that's always helpful.
Bauman: Right. I don't think I have any more questions for you.
Man one: Oh, excuse me. What was it like raising us kids in an area that didn't have a lot of support services and it was just all your contemporaries and nobody had any relatives in town or anything like that?
Sutter: I never thought about it.
Man one: It was what it was and you just coped with it?
Sutter: Yeah. Oh, and then I remember we babysat back and forth. I remember my friend Dusty was babysitting and Paul, all he'd do is hide in the closet. [LAUGHTER] That was a long time ago.
Bauman: But you'd find ways to help each other out?
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: Take care of the kids.
Woman one: And Dad was from--where was Dad from? New York?
Man one: Yeah, he went to University of Buffalo and was recruited out there.
Bauman: So you mentioned you went to Washington State College. Where were you from initially? When did you grow up?
Sutter: I was grown up in Seattle.
Bauman: Oh, okay.
Sutter: And I went to college starting in home economics, and that's a dumb major. They don't give you anything challenging. And the only thing I liked the first year was chemistry, and that's why I majored in that.
Man one: I was curious. I kind of recalled once hearing a story about the way you met Dad was you accidentally left some battery acid on a stool or something like this? And it left a stain on his pants?
Sutter: I don't remember anything like that. No, he was just out there in the same lab. And then he was in this group that went on trips. He was one with a car!
Man one: So that made him popular?
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: So he went on some of these trips. You were part of the group?
Sutter: Yeah. Oh, we went down to Lost Lake in Oregon. I can remember that. And I knew Steve Buckingham. We were up there. Snow was on the ground. And he went in the water. And he said, it's warm! I can remember that one.
Man one: How many people would go on the trips?
Sutter: Yeah.
Man one: I mean, it was like four or five?
Sutter: Yeah, about that, because you just had cars. You didn't have anything big. There were no buses or anything taking you.
Woman one: So lack of family support, you built some really good friendships that you still have now.
Sutter: Yeah.
Bauman: About how often did you go on these trips?
Sutter: Oh, I'd say once a month or something. There was various degrees. It depends on what came to mind, what the people wanted.
Man one; What about the one where you left town and you got someplace and set up camp in the middle the night and Steve Buckingham found a--
Sutter: Oh, yeah, we were going over to Orcas Island. That was where we were going. And so we camped near Anacortes, and it was dark. And when we woke up, we found we camped in the garbage dump. [LAUGHTER] We went on our trip.
Bauman: That's a great story. Well, I want to thank you for coming in today and sharing your stories. And we're going to go ahead and make copies of the photos that you brought in.
Sutter: Oh, yeah, they're over there. I don't know. A lot of them you don't want.
Man one: Oh, I don't know. There's a lot of them that were--
Northwest Public Television | Stratton_Monte
Camera man: Okay. I say we record.
Robert Bauman: Yep. All right. All right, let's go ahead and get started. Get some of the official stuff out of the way first. My name's Robert Bauman, and I'm conducting an oral history interview with Mr. Monte Stratton. And today's date is July 16 of 2013. Our interview is being conducted on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. I’ll be talking with Mr. Stratton about his experiences working at the Hanford site. So first of all, thank you for coming in and letting us talk to you today.
Monte Stratton: Well, first off, you can call me Monte. I like to go by my--
Bauman: Will do.
Stratton: --nickname.
Bauman: All right. Well, Monte, I wonder if you could start by just telling us how and why you came to the Hanford site and when you came here.
Stratton: Well, going back to the early days of my working career, I was at an ammunition plant in Kings Mills, Ohio. This would have been in 1943. And at that time, the war was in its heyday and actually beginning to wind down to some extent. And I had been given a deferment up to that point, because I was at an ammunition plant. But they needed some personnel here at the Hanford site which was being built, and I was interviewed by the person who eventually became the plant manager to start with. That would have been Walt Simon. They were looking for people that had backgrounds similar to mine. I was an amateur radio operator and had some electronic experience. I'm an electrical engineer by profession, and they needed someone with that background for the instrument field. So as I said, I was interviewed and accepted the offer. I came to the Hanford site in February of 1944, and that's when I got started here at Hanford.
Bauman: And what was your very first impressions of the place when you arrived?
Stratton: A long ways from home. [LAUGHTER] I don't recall any particular impressions. I know that I arrived in the wee hours of the morning, came in by train into Pasco. And were met by plant personnel who escorted me over to Richland, and I was given a room in the—trying to recall what—the hotel that was originally in Richland. And I spent a week there and then I was given a room in the last men's dormitory that was built. This was K8. But my first impressions of this place were so different from the East Coast, where I'd grown up. So it took me a while to get used to it. But I soon learned to survive.
Bauman: And so you stayed—you were living in a dorm, a men's dorm at the time then. Could you describe that, like--
Stratton: For--
Bauman: --the size of it, or anything along those lines?
Stratton: There were eight men's dorms here in Richland. And there was a two-story building. I don't think any of them are still around, but they used some of them for facilities afterwards. I was on the second floor, and it was--I don't remember too much about any particulars of the dormitory. At this point, I might mention something about the dust storms that were prevalent in those days. They were called termination winds, and I recall one day I was laying across my bed. This was probably a Sunday afternoon, just resting, left the window open, and one of those termination wind dust storms came up. And when I woke up, I was covered with dust. [LAUGHTER] That was one experience that I had in the early days. Another experience that I had while I was there in the dormitory, and this relates to security—in those days security was very prevalent. There were a lot of security agents assigned here as everybody knows. And one afternoon once again I was laying across my bed and I got this strong knock at the door. When I opened the door the person walked right past me and came over to a radio receiver that I had on the table. And this receiver had a send/receive switch on the front. And he says, we have to put a seal on that. This happened to be the receiver that I'd brought out with me. Being an amateur radio operator, I brought my receiver along. We were taken off the air, of course, during the wartime, but I had my receiver just to listen to whatever was of interest. Well, I had a hard time explaining to this security person that this switch on the front of this receiver did not do any transmitting. That's what he wanted to make sure, that there was no transmitting involved. So I opened it up and let him look in and explained as best I could. Actually, the switch only controlled some external device if you wanted to hook it. But I managed to get past that one.
Bauman: And how long did you live in the dorms then?
Stratton: About one year. As I recall, I was in the dormitory for approximately one year. During that period, I met the person that I ended up marrying. And when I married this person, I moved from the dorm into a house that had been assigned us.
Bauman: And where was the house?
Stratton: The house was a duplex, a B-type house located on Judson Avenue in Richland. And we ended up having two children and we moved out of that B house to where we're presently living, which is an H-type house, [INAUDIBLE].
Bauman: And how did you and your wife meet? Was she working there as well?
Stratton: Oh, now you've asked a nice question. [LAUGHTER] It just so happens that I had a crew of people maintaining doing repair work on some of the instrumentation which I was assigned to. We had a shop in Richland, and one of my personnel was this girl that I became acquainted with affectionately and ended up marrying her. She was one of my, actually one of my workers.
Bauman: And where had she come from to work Hanford?
Stratton: She had come from Denver Ordnance Plant in Denver under similar circumstances that I came. At that time—this is a matter of interest—ammunition plants in different parts of the country had stockpiled their ammunition to the point where they were slowing down. A lot of the plants were either closing or slowing their operations. And the girl that I married had been working at one of the ammunition plants, and she was transferred here to the Hanford plant under very similar circumstances that I was.
Bauman: So, let's talk about the work you did then at Hanford when you first arrived. Could you describe the sort of work activities you were involved in?
Stratton: Well, when I first got here, I was assigned to a shop activity in the 300 Area. It was an instrument shop. And they were maintaining instruments that were being used throughout the project. And after that latter part of 1944, I was transferred to a new shop that had just been built in the 700 Area, an instrument shop. And that's where we were maintaining instruments that were being used throughout the project.
Bauman: Okay. And how long did you end up working at Hanford, and what other sorts of jobs did you have?
Stratton: Oh, I worked at Hanford here until I retired in 1982. I worked in all the different areas, starting at the 300 Area, then to the 700 Area. I was sent out to F Area at the startup of that reactor. And then came back to the 700 Area and was there for several years, and finally was sent out to the B Reactor. The B Reactor started up and operated for a short period of time. Then it was shut down—I don't recall for how long—a year or so maybe. And I was sent out to the B Reactor about that time--or was at B reactor about the time that it started up on its second run of operation.
Bauman: And about when would that have been?
Stratton: I'm guessing, and I was looking at my notes the other day, trying to figure out exactly when that would have been, but I'm guessing around 1949. I could be wrong on that date, but that's approximately.
Bauman: And what was your jobs at B Reactor when you were there?
Stratton: To start with I was actually a mechanic doing maintenance activity. But after being there for a while, I was elevated to a supervisor again. And I worked in B Reactor and several of the other reactors over the years. I went to the K Reactors when they were just being built and followed those from ground up, spent about roughly ten years, either as a supervisor or in maintenance engineering at the K Reactors.
Bauman: So you worked at several different areas then on the site.
Stratton: I did. I sure did. After the K Reactor started slowing down and—I'm trying to recall the date. I think it was 1972 when my work in the K Reactors had gotten to the point where I was no longer needed there. And so I came to the 200 Areas and spent another ten years there in field engineering.
Bauman: So could you maybe explain a little more, what would field engineering entail? Like, what sort of things might you typically do on a work day when you were working in the 200 Areas?
Stratton: Well, for instance in the K Areas, it would be going out and checking on the operation of the equipment, seeing that it's functioning properly and making repairs if they were minor, or otherwise I'd call a mechanic to come and do the repair work. In the 200 Areas, I was doing both field engineering and field inspection for new instrumentations that were being put in place.
Bauman: I want to go back a little bit to you said you first started working in Hanford in 1944. Right?
Stratton: Correct.
Bauman: Did you know what you were working on? Did you know it was--
Stratton: I've been asked that question many times.
Bauman: A lot of times?
Stratton: When did you find out that the—what they were doing here at Hanford? I might say this. My background being an electrical engineer and ham radio as a hobby, I had enough electronic experience in my background to begin to figure out from the instruments that we were using pretty much what was being done here at Hanford. So it took a while before I got all the details, but I started figuring out in the early days what was really happening here.
Bauman: And do you remember when you first heard the news that the war had ended, anything along those lines?
Stratton: I might relate one interesting experience. When they first made an announcement of what was being done here at Hanford, it was just a limited amount of information that was released to the news media. It so happened that my wife and I—this was in 1945—my wife and I were on a vacation trip, and we were at Mount Rainier. And when the news came out, of course, being the closed-mouth person I am, I didn't even say, boo, that I had worked at Hanford. However, my supervisor back in Richland was so afraid that I was going to start talking and say things that I shouldn't about the work that was, that he frantically got hold of me there at the—I think we were at Paradise Inn at the time. He was all concerned that I'd start talking. And I let him know right off the bat that I know not to keep—to keep my mouth shut and not talk—[LAUGHTER] other than what's official or released.
Bauman: So he called you while you were on vacation to make sure you--
Stratton: He called me to make sure that I didn't blab my mouth, something I shouldn't say.
Bauman: So you sort of mentioned a couple of times the security at Hanford, obviously. I wonder, and you lived in the dorms initially and then lived in a house in Richland. So in terms of security, getting onsite to work every day. Did you drive your car? Did you take a bus? How did that work?
Stratton: As I recall, I was using the transportation that was provided, bus transportation. Speaking of security, reminded me of another instance. I might back up a bit here. The people that I had working with me in the 700 Area were available to maintain instruments out on the Hanford Project. We had certain instruments that we would go out and take a look at. So one day I sent one of my personnel out to look at this equipment out in one of the remote areas. And she had a run-in, so to speak with the guards at the gate. She had been doing this job quite a bit, got to know quite a few of the guards at the gate, and she would kid them going through. And this particular day there was a guard at the gate that apparently she had not become acquainted with. And she made—when he asked her something about the equipment that she had—some of the equipment would be taken out for maintenance purposes. He asked her what she was carrying, and she made some remark about it being explosive or something along that nature, which—that was the wrong thing for her to say. And she had quite a hard time explaining herself out of that one. Another instance of security that I can recall—we had some instruments that were manufactured and when they arrived, the meter on the front of the instrument read millirankines. That was a no-no from an information standpoint. We did not want people that were not familiar with what was going on—that was the very early days—what we were actually measuring. And we had to take every one of those instruments out of the case and blank out the word, paint over the word millirankines to keep people who were not privy to the information to be able to read it, know what we were measuring. That gives you an idea of how strict security was in those days.
Bauman: And did you have to have a special security clearance to do the job that you had?
Stratton: I was issued what was called a Q clearance at the time. I think it was the popular security clearance for most people that would have access to classified information.
Bauman: Sure. I want to go back a little bit, again, to that first period during the war when you were living in the dorm. What sorts of entertainment was available on site for all the workers who were living in the dorms? Were there things to do for entertainment?
Stratton: [LAUGHTER] I don't recall too much that I got involved in as far as entertainment is concerned. I was never much of a entertainment type person. I didn't do carousing around like some people did. I don't recall too much in the way of entertainment. I might say took some hikes. Four of us actually climbed up the side of Rattlesnake Mountain. That would've been in the early part of 1944. And on another occasion I got out and hiked up to the top of Badger. But I don't recall too much in the way of entertainment that I got involved in in those days.
Bauman: And you said that you moved to Richland. You and your wife got married and moved to Richland. What was Richland like at the time as a community in the 1940s and the 1950s?
Stratton: Well, in the early 1940s, it was a closed town, of course. And you had to have a reason to be here. I don't remember too much about the details. It just wasn't a lot of interest from my standpoint in the early days.
Bauman: Can you think of any events or significant happenings, things that happened at Hanford while you were working there. I know President Kennedy came in 1963 to visit the N Reactor. I wonder if you were there at that time or any other events that stand out in your mind?
Stratton: I remember going and seeing Kennedy when he came. I was off at a distance. I was working out in the 100 Areas at the time. And I remember going and seeing him at a distance. I'm trying to think of any other events of particular interest. I can't think of anything to mention right at the moment, Bob.
Bauman: Okay. Were there ever any emergencies, fires or anything along those lines that happened while you were working that stand out at all?
Stratton: Gee, I can't think of anything of particular interest at the time, Bob.
Bauman: You worked, so you worked at Hanford basically from 1944 to 1982, right?
Stratton: Right.
Bauman: That's almost 40 years. My math.
Stratton: Almost 40.
Bauman: Long time. You must have seen a fair amount of change take place on the site, in the technology that was used or maybe some of the procedures or policies. I wondered if you could--
Stratton: Probably the biggest change would be in policies—that I can think of. Of course, equipment was updated tremendously over that period of time. And what we started with in the early days was antique by the time I retired. But I think maybe policies were some of the biggest situations that I can relate to.
Bauman: Are there any particular policies or practice that stand out that changed?
Stratton: Nothing that I can relate to right at the moment. I can't think of anything in particular, but—
Bauman: Hanford obviously at some point, it was for years about production and at some point shifted to clean up. Had that started to happen when you were working there?
Stratton: Not really. No. There wasn't a whole lot of that activity. Clean up pretty much started after I retired.
Bauman: I wonder if there's—what you would like future generations, people who never worked at the Hanford site to understand, to know about working at Hanford during World War II and the Cold War era?
Stratton: Well, the thing that some of the people wonder about—we were producing plutonium. Was that a good thing? Well, you have to look at it from the standpoint that the war effort was brought to an end primarily because of the work that we started here with the production of plutonium. It undoubtedly brought the war to an end. That's what the way we have to—the way I would like to look at it.
Bauman: And you said you worked there almost 40 years. There were a lot of people who didn't. The termination winds sent a lot of people packing.
Stratton: Those were—that’s true.
Bauman: You know, what was it that kept you here for almost 40 years?
Stratton: Probably getting married. [LAUGHTER] That would be probably the main reason that we decided to stay and raise a family here. I was working in a field that was of interest to me. Like I mentioned, I was a ham radio operator from way back. And I was in the instrument field and the work that I was doing was of real interest for me. And so I had no particular desire to move away from here. So I think that is one of the things that kept me here. Of course, we started our family and from then on this was home.
Bauman: So overall, how would you describe Hanford as a place to work?
Stratton: Well, for me it worked out to be a very good place. Young people that came along after I'd been here for a few years, like tech grads coming in for a short stay and they wanted to know, do you think this is a good place to try to continue working here? And I would always encourage them to go ahead and apply for employment here at the Hanford Project. Because I think if it was in their field of interest or field of training, that would be a good place for them to work.
Bauman: Is there anything I haven't asked you about that you think would be important to talk about or any special memories or specific memories that you think would be important to talk about?
Stratton: I think you've covered it very nicely. Well, I can't think of anything in particular to add to what we've covered so far.
Bauman: Well, great. I want to thank you, Monte, for coming.
Stratton: Oh, you're sure welcome.
Bauman: I really appreciate it.
Stratton: Only too happy to do what I could to--I don't know whether this will help the cause very much.
Bauman: It's terrific. Yeah. Thank you very much.
Stratton: Oh, you're sure welcome.
Northwest Public Television | Lewis_Doris
Robert Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And, yeah, I'm sure it will be.
Man One: Yeah, I am too.
Doris Lewis: Because I think I've forgotten more than I remember.
Man One: Me too.
Lewis: [LAUGHTER]
Miriam: So mom, I won't chime in unless you ask me to.
Lewis: Yeah.
Miriam: Okay?
Lewis: Okay.
Man One: Going here.
Bauman: Okay, we’re good to go?
Man One: Yeah.
Lewis: Well--
Bauman: All right.
Lewis: --see, you were born in--
Miriam: 1958.
Lewis: Yeah, October.
Miriam: Why don't we let them ask the questions?
Bauman: We'll go ahead and get started, yeah.
Lewis: Okay.
Bauman: So let's go ahead and get started. And first I'm going to just have say your name for us.
Lewis: Now?
Bauman: Yeah, go ahead.
Lewis: My name is Doris Lewis.
Bauman: And my name is Robert Bauman. And today is August 14, 2013. And we are conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So let's start by having you tell us about how and why you came to this area.
Lewis: Okay. I came to this--I got married in Seattle. I got engaged back in Minnesota and I came out west. And we were married in Seattle in--what was it?
Miriam: 1944.
Lewis: Yeah, 1944--December 5, 1944.
Miriam: So can I--Mom, but you came out here--you guys were waiting to get married for Dad to get kind of a good job.
Lewis: [LAUGHTER] Yeah.
Miriam: And so he got a job out here, right?
Lewis: Yes.
Miriam: When did he get the job out here?
Lewis: Well he got the job--let's see. We were married in--he got the job in '43.
Miriam: So you didn't even have your house when you moved out here. You came to Seattle, got married, and then moved into your house here?
Lewis: Yeah, we moved into a one-bedroom prefab, of which I have a picture.
Miriam: So you came out here because Dad got a job here. And that was what allowed you guys to get married. And that's when you moved here.
Lewis: Yeah. That's why I moved here, yes.
Bauman: And so what sort of job did your husband have?
Lewis: He was a photographer, a patrol photographer.
Bauman: And his name was?
Lewis: Walt--S. Walt--It's Sam Walter Lewis, but everybody knew him as Walt.
Bauman: And so he got a job working as a photographer at the Hanford site?
Lewis: Mm-hm. He was on patrol here, working on patrol. But he was a photographer.
Bauman: Oh okay, so working for the Hanford patrol? I see. Okay. What was Richland like when you came here in 1944?
Lewis: Well, Richland was still being built when I came here in 1944. And they put up prefabs to get housing up quickly. And since we were a couple, we got a one-bedroom prefab. It was on Sanford and Symons--a lot different today. And the sidewalks were that macadam. And asparagus was growing up on the sidewalks, as I remember, right across from our prefab. I have a picture here of myself sweeping off the porch--
Bauman: That's great.
Lewis: --of the prefab. You may have it.
Bauman: We'll film that later. Yeah, that's great.
Lewis: Mm-hm. So anyway, that was my first home here. And it was really darling. I bought yellow chintz with blue figures on it. And one of the women here helped me make drapes. People were very friendly. And she not only helped me, she just made the drapes. [LAUGHTER] And we used to get together and have parties. And we formed a community. It was a lot of fun.
Bauman: Mm-hm. And I'm guessing there must have been people coming here from all over the United States?
Lewis: All over, from every--the people I saw a lot of happened to be Southerners. And they were really warm and friendly.
Bauman: And you said your first house was--
Lewis: A one-bedroom prefab. And it was darling. It had a living room. And then it had a curtained off area for the kitchen and bathroom and bedroom. And it was adequate for a couple.
Bauman: And how long did you live there?
Lewis: You know, I don't remember. Not too long. So we moved into a two bedroom for a while. I've lived in every house in Richland. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So when you first came here, you talked about it being a very friendly place, very friendly community. Were there things to do, entertainment, places to shop, those sorts of things?
Lewis: Oh. They still had--big bands came here. And Hanford was still running. I went to their house, open house, where they served meals and stuff. They were still serving meals. And they served family style. The waiters came in with huge plates of food and put them on the tables, a lot of food. And they still hand entertainers come in. There were some big time bands. I don't remember now who they were, but they were notables. They were a lot of fun, too, because everybody was friendly. You danced with whoever asked you. And my husband was taking pictures. So I didn't get to--he didn't help me. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So it must have been quite a bit different than Minnesota, or Seattle.
Lewis: Oh, yeah, quite a difference, yeah.
Bauman: I've heard people talk about the heat and the dust and the winds, you know, the termination winds.
Lewis: And the place was dug up. So we'd have terrible sandstorms. And I would come home at night to my house and the couch--you know, these were prefabs. So they're not too well built. I come home to my house and my couch was covered with sand. You couldn't see the pattern on it. And then we had to sweep out. [LAUGHTER] We were young. And it didn't matter. We took everything in stride.
Bauman: Do you remember any community events or anything like that would go on in Richland at the time?
Lewis: I'm sure there were. I don't remember. I'm sure there were.
Bauman: Yeah. I understand that there was not a synagogue at the time that moved here and that you and your husband were involved in--
Lewis: Yeah, there were about 12 of us, eventually. And we got a group together. We held services every Friday night in our homes. And we formed a Jewish community. Yes. As I say, there were only 12 of us. I don't know when we built the--we built the synagogue when Jerry was--
Miriam: There was the 60th anniversary recently.
Lewis: Huh?
Miriam: Recently, there was the 60th anniversary.
Lewis: Yeah.
Bauman: So sometime in the 19--early '50s.
Miriam: Yeah.
Lewis: But we opened the synagogue when Jerry was about two or three, I think. A Seattle architect, a Jewish architect, drew up the plans--didn't charge us. And we had Meyer Elkins, who was--he supervised the building. He worked for AEC. And he was in charge of our synagogue building. We hired an architect from Seattle, and I cannot remember his name. But he was a very good architect. And our original synagogue has been enlarged to twice its size. There was an addition put on that was as big as the original building. Now I don't know when that was, either--I mean the date.
Bauman: Right.
Miriam: All right, can I ask a question? Mom, how did you guys raise the money to build it?
Lewis: How did we raise the money?
Miriam: And how many more--you were 12 originally, but how did the congregation grow?
Lewis: Well, it grew. There were 12 of us that built it, the synagogue. We pledged to pay over a period of years. And the bank loaned us the money. And now what did you just ask me?
Miriam: Just--there were 12 of you to start with, but when the synagogue was built, did people start hearing of it and start coming? Sorry, I'm--
Lewis: Yeah, well I don't know. I don't know when--it took a while to build it. And once they built it, then we had regular services every Friday evening and Saturday morning. And we celebrated holidays there. The synagogue was a central point for us. That's where we held all our activities. That's where we met. And that's how we really functioned.
Bauman: And you said there were 12 initially. Do you remember any of the other individuals who were involved early on?
Lewis: Any what?
Bauman: Any of the other people who were involved early on?
Lewis: Oh yeah, well most of them are dead now.
Bauman: Sure.
Lewis: There was Meyer and Tilly Elkins. And Meyer was a--he was a builder. He was an engineer. But he did building. And he supervised the building. And I'll tell you, it was perfect. [LAUGHTER] He was very, very concerned about every detail. We have a good, solid building. And if it weren't for these dedicated people, we wouldn't have had anything. Because we pledged the money for it, which at that time seemed like a lot of money. You couldn't do it today. And I don't remember the amount, but I think it was only about $16,000. I'm not sure of that.
Miriam: So mom, who were the rest of the 12 people?
Lewis: Now that's a good question.
Miriam: The Francos.
Lewis: The Francos.
Miriam: So that's Bob and Eileen Franco. The Kahns? Were the Kahns?
Lewis: Well yeah, Herb--
Miriam: Herb and Albert--
Lewis: --took charge of the financing, took charge of the banking.
Miriam: So that's six out of the 12. Who were the--oh, the Goldsmiths. Were the Goldsmiths?
Lewis: Yeah, I don't think they were early, no. I'm trying to remember. You know, I don't remember.
Miriam: That's something my brother could probably actually give you the information on.
Lewis: Well it might be in the book.
Miriam: No, this is Kennedy.
Lewis: Oh, yeah. Yeah, I don't know what Jerry remembers. But he was, I think, about two years old when they built it.
Miriam: But we can ask Jerry. Jerry can give them the information about the rest of the 12 people. Because I'm sure he will know.
Bauman: That's fine, yeah, sure.
Lewis: Okay.
Bauman: I was going to ask you then, obviously, your children were born here?
Lewis: Who?
Bauman: Your children were born here. Is that correct?
Miriam: Yeah.
Lewis: Oh, you--Miriam was born here and Jerry was born here.
Bauman: And how was Richland as a place to raise a family? How did you experience that?
Lewis: It was a wonderful place to raise a family. Because families were very important. And we got everything for free. They needed people here. And they did everything to keep us. Because it was a population that moved in and moved out. Many of them came, looked around, and left. They wouldn't stay. [LAUGHTER] But I think it was a very nice little community. We loved it here. We made friends, and we had activities. And we were busy. And then, of course, I had a job. I was a secretary. I worked first it was still under DuPont until I think '45 when GE came in.
Bauman: And what part of the Hanford site did you work at?
Lewis: Well I worked down--I was downtown then in the Ad Building. And I worked for--I can't remember what--Overbeck was one of the fellows. I was one of the top secretaries here at that time.
Bauman: And how long did you work?
Lewis: I worked a long time. [LAUGHTER] I quit working when my son was born. And that was in '55. And I quit for six or seven years. And then I came back to work again. And I worked part time for a while. But secretaries always had jobs. They needed secretaries. And I was an experienced one. They used to say if you knew a typewriter from a washing machine, they'd hire you. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And what did you think of working at Hanford? How was your experience or your experiences working there?
Lewis: What did I think of working there?
Bauman: Yeah, how was it?
Lewis: I liked it. It was interesting work. I didn’t know--I wasn't engineering knowledgeable. I didn't really know what they were doing. But it was a big secret. And in August 1945--I think that was when the first bomb was dropped. I remember working in the Ad Building there. And all the managers, everybody was on edge, waiting to hear the outcome of the dropped first bomb. Yes.
Bauman: Is that when you first knew what was going on, what had been happening at Hanford?
Lewis: Yeah, it was all very secret. And it didn't get out. Very few people knew what they were doing. Because very few people--it was a new art, or whatever you call it--a new technical thing. And they never knew, until it went off, if it was going to work. I worked for W. P. Overbeck. I worked for Vic Hansen from DuPont. He was one of the managers, a very good man. But he was only there for about six months after I hired in.
Bauman: So when you first came for your jobs at Hanford, what did you know about the place? Were you just told it had something to do with the war effort?
Lewis: We weren't told anything. I don't remember them--we knew we were working for the government and that it was very secretive. And that's all we knew. And I wasn't educated enough to know what we were doing. Now, some people may have surely knew. But as I say, engineering was something I didn't know anything about. But I learned some things. And I helped the wheels go around.
Bauman: Yeah, did you have to get a special clearance to be able to work at Hanford?
Lewis: Yeah, I had--we wore security badges. And before I quit, I got a top security clearance, because I'd been here a long time. And I worked for some of the top fellows. G. G. Lale--I can't remember what he was, but he was assistant to the man that was in charge. I think W. E. Johnson was in charge then. I'm not sure. Things are jumbled together for me. Because I'm so old I can't remember too accurately either.
Bauman: You're doing great. [LAUGHTER] You're remembering a lot.
Lewis: [LAUGHTER] I don't know.
Bauman: So your husband working for the Hanford patrol as a photographer. How long did he work at Hanford?
Lewis: He worked here a long time. And then he finally quit and went to Oregon--Gresham, right outside of Portland, and established his own business. That was a dream of his all his life. He wanted to have a studio, photographic studio, so he bought one. But however, he didn't look closely enough at it. And he spent a year trying to build a business. But he never could accomplish one that would keep us. And I was supposed to join him in about three months, quit my job and join him. But in three months’ time we knew that he needed my financial help. So I stayed on. And we visited back and forth. And he finally quit and came down here. And he got a job here as a photographer.
Bauman: I wanted to ask you about President Kennedy's visit in 1963.
Lewis: Yeah, that was--we went out. It was a hot, hot day. It was when the Dual Purpose Reactor--it was a D Reactor--was being dedicated. And Kennedy--it was a very hot day out in the desert. And there was a big crowd--I don't know, 40,000 50,000--a lot of people. And a friend of mine and I--Bonnie Goldsmith. They were here early. And we took our kids, Philip and Jerry, but--
Miriam: Not me.
Lewis: Not you, no. And they were what, about five or six?
Miriam: No, it was 1963. They were seven or eight.
Lewis: Yeah, and they immediately ran around, got lost. We had to find them. But Kennedy spoke. He was the most impressive, the most glamorous man I think I've ever in my life seen. And he was a marvelous speaker. It was just a pleasure to sit down and look at him and listen to him. He was fantastic. And he had this magic wand that started the reactors at D Area. But this desert—I think there were 40,000, 50,000 people there. And it was a hot, hot day. And the cars were--length of cars there. I remember--when was D activated? I can't remember the date. But everybody spoke. It was a wonderful, wonderful affair. And it was so impressive that waving the wand started the reactor. So it made both electricity and the others.
Bauman: And your husband took some photos that day?
Lewis: Mm-hm. He took photos. And we have some of the photos in this book there. The information is there. My son gathered it all together. He published not very many of these. He just did--something that he wanted to do. So you may look at it, because the pictures and the information on there are much more accurate than what I'm giving you. [LAUGHTER] I don't remember a lot. Miriam might remember stuff when she started school here, too, that might be of interest. Okay?
Miriam: Well he can ask the questions, and if he wants to ask me I'm sure he will.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Well I was going to ask are there any other major events that happened while you were working at Hanford that you recall or--
Lewis: Oh, well no doubt there were a lot of major events. But I don’t—I mean, if you ask me the question, I could answer specifically. But as a whole, the work went on daily. The scientists were working on it all the time. And when they dropped the bomb in, what was it, August? Was it August?
Bauman: August, uh-huh.
Lewis: Everybody was waiting. We didn't know what they were waiting for. But they were waiting. The top fellows knew that the bomb was going to be dropped. And we did get the information, finally. It was terrible, really. It was a terrible thing to do. But they felt that they really saved lives by dropping that bomb. Because they stopped—I mean, they weren't winning, they weren't losing. It was a very iffy situation. And that, of course, stopped everything. It was terrible.
Bauman: I was going to ask you—Richland initially was a government town, federal government. At some point it became an independent--
Lewis: They sold the houses to the inhabitants.
Bauman: So were you able to buy your house at that point, then, buy a house?
Lewis: Yeah, we bought--what was the first house we bought? I think it was a B house.
Miriam: Was that the house where I was born?
Lewis: Yeah, it was a B house.
Miriam: Yeah.
Lewis: Two-bedroom house, a duplex.
Bauman: And do you remember, were people in Richland excited about the possibility to do that sort of thing, to have independent--
Lewis: Do they have what?
Bauman: Were people in Richland excited about being able to buy their own homes, be sort of independent?
Lewis: Oh, yeah. By that time they will permanently implanted here. And the job was going to go on. [COUGH] Excuse me. And they sold the houses for pittances. Especially the expensive houses were real bargains--the prefabs not so much, because they didn't cost much in the first place. But I think I was living in a B house then, a two-bedroom duplex. And I bought the whole house. And we rented out the duplex. And I lived there for a while. And then we sold it and bought a ranch house. [LAUGHTER] I've lived in, I think, every house here. I lived in a B house, in a ranch house, and in a--what else? In our house.
Miriam: I don't have the letters memorized. [LAUGHTER]
Lewis: Yeah, right.
Bauman: Is there anything that we haven't talked about yet, anything that--
Lewis: I kept upgrading myself.
Miriam: In terms of history, probably not, although you did ask about--Mom, I was just curious, because this is of course what I like to know, where did you grocery shop and stuff when you first came here?
Lewis: Well we had a Keiser's store, a grocery.
Miriam: When you first came here in '44?
Lewis: Well you know, I don't know what we had then. We had a Keiser--we had grocery stores. I think Safeway was here then.
Miriam: Oh, really?
Lewis: Yeah, right.
Miriam: Yeah, I was just curious.
Lewis: Mm-hm. I don't remember a lot. But I think there was plenty of shopping.
Miriam: Mm-hm. Were you happy with the schools you sent us to?
Lewis: Yes, I was active in the schools. And my relationships were very good. Our teachers were excellent. They were dedicated, because they came out here in the middle of nowhere. [LAUGHTER] What did you think about your teachers?
Miriam: Well I just thought--this is my impression, is that because there were so many scientists here that education was a value and that I remember that school levies, when I was growing up, because I born in 1958, the school levies always passed. Nobody considered that they shouldn't be spending public money to support education. And I always thought that was because of the heavy concentration of really highly educated people that came here.
Bauman: So what schools did you go to then?
Miriam: I went to Jefferson Elementary, Chief Joseph Junior High, and Richland High School. And my brother--Jerry went to Jason Lee to begin with. Mom, do you remember? Jerry didn't start at Jefferson.
Lewis: No, he didn't.
Miriam: Jason Lee?
Lewis: I don't remember.
Miriam: I think so. Anyhow, he started a different school and then went to Jefferson when we moved to the neighborhood where we--
Lewis: Lived.
Miriam: --Grew up. And where Mom still lives.
Bauman: And so, those elementary schools must have been pretty much new when your kids started there, or close to.
Lewis: Yeah. Jefferson was just built, I think. It wasn't very old.
Miriam: Yeah, I don't know.
Bauman: And just given the influx of population suddenly, all these young families, there had to have been a new school being opened that served the population there. Anything else you can think of that either one of you--we haven't talked about, or--?
Miriam: Well just that I think, Mom, you never thought that you would come out here and spend the rest your life here. [LAUGHTER]
Lewis: No, never. I never thought that. And it was away from my family, and from friends. However, we managed. We went back to Minnesota every summer. [LAUGHTER] Our families were there.
Miriam: But I want to come back a little bit to the synagogue. Because as a very, very tiny minority here, we families banded together to build the synagogue, it was a very, very strong community. And still, it's not as strong now in that same way, but these people were all like additional parents, or like aunts and uncles to all of us. And my mom was called Aunt Doris. My dad was called Uncle Walt. That was how we addressed the parents in those families, us as children. And that it's interesting to have this group of Jews wandering in this particular desert. [LAUGHTER] Because it really has a very, very--it's a microcosm of the whole Richland thing, where you have people coming from all over and creating a very strong, very close community, because they are away from all of the places they came from. And our Jewish community reflected that same phenomenon.
Bauman: Absolutely, yeah, right, thrown together from all these disparate areas.
Lewis: As time went on, we never intended--at first, we intended to move back to Minnesota when this job was finished. It was never finished.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] It just kept going.
Lewis: Yeah, so we stayed on. And it was our home. We loved it here. I love it here.
Bauman: That's a similar theme I get. A lot of people who I've talked to come here thinking they'll stay here for a little while and then end up staying for 40 years or 60 years or however long. [LAUGHTER]
Lewis: Yeah, right. A little while became forever.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Right, right. Well I want to thank you very much for coming in today.
Lewis: Yeah, I'm afraid I wasn't much help, because my memory's so bad. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: This was terrific.
Lewis: But it was fun. It was a wonderful experience. We loved it here. I still do.
Bauman: Well thank you again. Appreciate it.
Northwest Public Television | Knutson_Lucille
Robert Bauman: Yes, she was one of the first ones we had out here. Actually, it probably was in June then. She was one of the first people.
Lucille Knutson: She's quite a lady. She's a character. [LAUGHTER] We belong to the Model T Club together.
Bauman: Oh, really?
Knutson: There's where met her.
Bauman: Oh, okay, great.
Knutson: They restored Model Ts and so did we.
Bauman: That's how you got to know each other.
Knutson: Yeah.
Bauman: That's great.
Knutson: We've been good friends for 20 years.
Man one: We're rolling here.
Bauman: Ready to go?
Man one: I'll adjust this as you go.
Bauman: Okay, we're going to go ahead and get started, if that's okay?
Knutson: Okay.
Bauman: All right, so I'm going to start by having you say your name and then spell it for us.
Knutson: Okay, my name is Lucille Knutson. L-U-C-I-L-L-E. Knutson is K-N-U-T-S-O-N.
Bauman: Okay, great. All right, and my name is Robert Bauman, and today is August 13th of 2013, and we are having this interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. So, Lucille, let's start by just having me--I'm going to ask you to tell me about how you came to the Tri-Cities, what brought you here, when you came, that sort of thing.
Knutson: Well, in 1940, Palmer and I were married. We ran away and got married in Baker, Montana. And in December the war broke out, so anyway--or was it a year later? Anyway, there was a call for carpenters to go to an ammunition depot in South Dakota. So my husband and his brother and his father, who were all carpenters, went there, finished that job. There was a call to go on to Mountain Home, Idaho for Air Force base. They went there, and then that job was ending, and friends from there had come out here and sent us a letter because there were no telephones, no cell phones in those days, and told us to come here because there was work here. So we went down to the ration board to get gas and tires to come here, and they said, where did you hear about this place? There's nothing going on there, no jobs that are affiliated with the war. So we got the gas and tires and came here. They give us gas and tires to go home, but we came here instead. So we landed in August of 1943 in Pasco.
Knutson: Yeah, we came to Pasco. Our instructions were to go to the employment agency, so we did. Oh, my word—hot and windy, and I thought we'd come to the end of the world, when we got here. So these friends that had come previously had written to us and gave us some instructions. So we head out toward Hanford, and we come to a farmhouse called Barnett's farm. It had a big sign near the mailbox. So we turned in there and found our friends, and we never did go to Hanford to the trailer court. We stayed right there. So we had eggs and milk and everything right from the farmer, and it was perfect. We weren't out in the hot sun. It was really neat. And the fellows went to work, and we stayed here. And my son was two years old, and I was pregnant with the next one--no hospital in Richland, no hospital in Hanford at that time. So she was born in Lady of Lourdes, and Lady of Lourdes was—[LAUGHTER] well, everybody out at Hanford had to go there, the people that were having babies, and they were in the hallways. I mean, every spot was taken for those in the maternity ward. And we stayed here ‘til my husband got called to the service. So we moved to Sunnyside to be near relatives because I didn't want to go clear back to Wisconsin, where my folks were, with two little ones, so we went to Sunnyside. So he was to report at the--the buses were taking them to Spokane, and when he got on the bus, they said because he had a family at home--it was near the end of the war by that time, so he didn't have to go. So we came back to Richland to work on the plant here.
Bauman: And so what sort of work did your husband do?
Knutson: He was a carpenter, so he worked out building out there and also then started building the homes here in Richland because there was nothing here. When we came from Pasco that first day, there was a cow tethered down by Jackson's Tavern in Richland, and there was John Dam's Grocery Store and a bank and one other building. I can't remember what that was, but there were three buildings in the downtown area and a few houses where the people lived here. And this is Mr. Barnett's farm out there, he had sold it to the government but had gone to work for the government, so he got to stay in his home. So that's how come we rented space from him.
Bauman: And so you stayed there until you moved to Sunnyside. When you back from Sunnyside, where did you move to?
Knutson: By that time, we got a three-bedroom prefab. So we were in that a short time, and by then, they were trading houses. If you lived in one, you could trade it. It was before houses were sold. So we traded and got the B house that we're in now. So we've been in that house for over 60 years, but we remodeled it into a single unit.
Bauman: So you mentioned first arriving in the heat. Any other first impressions of the place?
Knutson: Oh! [LAUGHTER] First impression of this area?
Bauman: Yeah.
Knutson: It was beastly hot. It was around 100 degrees, and we knew that we were headed for our trailer court out there at Hanford, which wasn't very inviting, but we didn't have to go. But there was nothing here. I just thought we'd come to the end of the world. It was just--couldn't hardly wait for this job to get over with, so we could go home again—never, ever expecting to stay.
Bauman: And then you said your husband, after the war, was involved in building homes?
Knutson: Yes, they were building—I don't know exactly when they started building the houses here in Richland, but he built—the prefabs were moved in kind of as pre-fabricated houses, but then he worked on the other houses also. And then when the war was over and the houses were sold, he went into business, and he put basements under existing houses. So it was quite a lucrative business because everybody, every house in Richland had a half basement. So he was a busy guy. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So you said you had one child already, and then you had a second child. What sort of community was Richland like into the late 1940s, early 1950s for you and your family?
Knutson: Well, in the '40s, when we first got here, we had to stand in line for everything--the grocery store, post office, everything. And as it was later on, the town began to develop, then there was Central United Protestant Church. I think the city fathers thought there would be one church that would serve everybody, but that didn't happen. The Catholics and the Lutherans and the Baptists, if I remember correctly, wanted their own. So they branched off from this and started their own. So schools were built. Churches were built. It really was a nice place to live.
Bauman: So you saw a lot of growth taking place?
Knutson: Oh, yes, from the original houses here in town to the houses that were built--the alphabet houses. And then, of course, later on, when everybody owned their homes, then people started building some of their own homes. But there was an awful lot of remodeling, and it begin to look like a regular town instead of a government town.
Bauman: But at some point in the 1950s, the city became an independent city, right, from the federal government control.
Knutson: Yeah, I remember our first mayor was a lady. I don't remember what her name was. But, yeah, it began to be a normal town--schools, churches, stores.
Bauman: Were you able to--did you rent your house initially?
Knutson: Yes.
Bauman: Did you have to buy it at some point?
Knutson: Yes, in the '60s the houses were sold, so you had a chance to buy your house, and we did. In fact, we bought some of the prefabs too, and they wanted them moved. So we bought some of those and moved them, set them up. I think it was in the Highlands of Kennewick. But you know, those prefabs are still standing. Some people have put basements under them. All of them needed foundations because it was temporary, but the alphabet houses were more permanent because they had basements.
Bauman: And you mentioned Central United Protestant Church being established. Do you remember when that was, around when that was?
Knutson: No, it must've been soon, and I really don't remember. But that was the first one, and then it branched off to south side and north side and the different--some were Baptists. The CUP was Methodist-based, so other denominations began to build their own. But it must've been in the '60s.
Bauman: And I imagine there must have been people coming here from all over the United States.
Knutson: Oh, of course, and when you had the termination winds, carloads of people would leave. When we first got here, we were really lucky. We had a trailer house. Because some people were living in chicken coops. Because some people were living in cardboard boxes, I mean, until the barracks got built out there. I mean, there was nothing here. So we felt real fortunate to have a house to crawl into. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: As you mention, a lot of people sort of came and then left--stayed for a while and then left, either because of the termination winds or whatever. What made stay? What made you and your family stay?
Knutson: Yeah, we stayed. We're still here.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] And was it just because your husband had employment? Is that one reason why you stayed?
Knutson: Well, we liked it, and he was busy. He worked at Hanford, building that, and then he worked on the houses here in Richland. And then when they were sold, why, he went into business for himself, so we just stayed. We like it.
Bauman: I wonder if you recall any sort of community events that happened in Richland during that time, in he '40s, '50s?
Knutson: Well, we had Frontier Days. That was the big thing--parades and celebrities coming. That was one of the things. But I don't know. You kind of had to make your own fun because there was nothing here. So we took advantage of the river. We had a boat, and we had a boat dock down at the river, and our kids grew up down there. Everybody was in the same boat. We had square dances because we had to make our own fun. And some of the square dances were held in the schools. I remember we square danced at Jefferson. And there were other square—in the '60s, early '70s, that was kind of the thing. There were square dancers all over. That's kind of faded out, but there was a big one in Kennewick that we attended. So it was kind of a do-it-yourself entertainment program. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And what was Richland like in terms of a place to raise children?
Knutson: Oh, it was great--great place to raise kids. There was schools and churches and Boy Scouts and the river, and our kids were so busy, they didn't have time to get in trouble. And remember, this town was all young people. We all had children. We just did our own thing--our own clubs, our own—and it was great to raise kids. By that time, we had a swimming pool, and it was this time was really conducive to children, because we all had kids.
Bauman: You mentioned when you first arrived that there was only a few businesses downtown. Were there places to shop and things like that, or at what point did those things come in?
Knutson: Well, there was nothing here when we came. There was John--like I said before, the one little grocery store, and you stood in line around the block to get into the store even. And pretty soon there was—grocery stores started popping up. And the Uptown started to grow. Businesses came in. I think that was probably in the '60s also. I don't really know. But I remember a grocery store in our neighborhood over on Goethals. And then in the downtown area there was a department store. I can't remember the name of it. And a few restaurants started to happen. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Let's see, so you came in '43, so you were here then. Were you here or in Sunnyside when the war ended then?
Knutson: We were in Sunnyside when the war ended. And up until that time, we really didn't know what—the secret was really held good. We really didn't know. But the day that the war ended, the farmers came in from Sunnyside, and they threw watermelons. The downtown area on Sunnyside was just a big mess, and the armory came out with hoses to clean everything down. I mean, there was quite a celebration. Why they were smashing fruits and vegetables, I don't know, but they were. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So it wasn't until then that you and your husband found out--
Knutson: That's when we realized what was going on out here, mm-hm.
Bauman: So when you first came here, it was something for the war?
Knutson: That's it; it was a war effort over here, but we didn't know. We suspected, but the secret was really kept really good. When we first came, when the Mountain Home job was done, friends were here. I don't know how they found out, but they wrote to us. But the Ration Board didn't know there was anything going on. It was a secret then, too. It was very well kept, this secret.
Bauman: Do you remember what your response was when you found out, or what you thought?
Knutson: Well, no, not really. It was the war effort, and it was--I remember when we first came here how angry some of the farmers and some of the people were that their farms were taken away from them and so forth, and all the promises that were made, I hope they're carried through, but--
Bauman: And I was going to ask you then, when your husband--obviously, 1943 is very early in the construction of the project and so forth, and he was working in construction, right?
Knutson: When we first came, he worked out at Hanford building that, and then he came into town to build the houses. When they realized that it wasn't going to be a temporary thing, that all these people that were here and staying needed a place to live, so they built the houses. And then, of course, when they were sold, then he stayed here and put basements under most and did a lot of remodeling, too.
Bauman: When he was working out at the site, the Hanford site, how did he get to the site? Were there buses?
Knutson: Buses, there were buses, mm-hmm.
Bauman: And did he--it was obviously a very secret sort of secure place. Did he have to have a clearance to go work out there?
Knutson: Oh, yes, he had to have a clearance, and he had a Q clearance because he was in all the areas. And later on in the late '60s, I went to work for the government. I worked at the Federal Building. I had a Q clearance also. And it was interesting; in 1969 another couple and Palmer and I were going to Europe because our neighbors that lived—he was Atomic Energy Commission--was in the embassy in Austria, and they invited us to come. So two couples of us went over there, and the Q clearance came into play because before I left, security called me and interviewed me to tell me what to do in case I got stopped over there, captured, or whatever. I didn't know anything, of course, [LAUGHTER] that was going on out--but that's how careful they were. Just let us know what to do just in case something like that did happen.
Bauman: Right, and so your job at Federal Building was with Department of Energy or--?
Knutson: No, my job at the Federal Building--there was a little post office then set up, taking care of the Hanford mail, and I was in charge of the certified and registered mail. So all of the Hanford mail came through our place before it went into the post office, I imagine, to check--another check.
Bauman: Sure, so you have been in Richland, for the most part, since 1943 other than a little bit time in Sunnyside. You've seen a lot of changes.
Knutson: Oh, yes.
Bauman: What do you think has changed the most, or what have been the most significant changes you've seen?
Knutson: What do I think--
Bauman: What do you think have been the most significant changes that you've seen since you've been here?
Knutson: Well, probably the development of the town. It turned into--we have everything we need here. We've stores, and we've taken the city, and everybody's taken advantage of the river. It's just a nice little town that's developed from all of this.
Bauman: Is there anything I haven't asked you about, any stories you have from those early years or memories that you'd like to share that you haven't shared?
Knutson: Stories, well—[LAUGHTER] An interesting story was when it came time for this baby to be born--no hospital in Hanford, no hospital in Richland. So we went over to Hanford at Lady of Lourdes, and she was a preemie baby, so there was no way they could keep that baby in the hospital. There were babies in the hallways and everything. So the nuns gave us instructions of what to do with this tiny, little three-pound baby. So we came home, and my husband built a shelter in our bedroom made of cheesecloth with a window. And so people couldn't get to her, like relatives and friends that came to see her. And our instructions were to take care of this child with as least bit of handling as possible, because it took too much energy from her. So she grew into a—we did it. We followed all the instructions that they gave us and took care of this baby at home. But it was pioneer days, it seemed like, in those days. It was just you did the best you could with everything. And then it came time for Paul, our son, to go to school. The neighbors next door, their children were going on a bus to a Lutheran school in Kennewick. So they took him along on the bus every morning. So his first year of school was over there. Then we moved into the B house, where we are now, and he went to Jefferson then. Because the schools in those days were just barely being built, and so this was an easy way for us for him to get a good start.
Bauman: Pretty much brand new schools.
Knutson: Mm-hmm, so it's been great.
Bauman: Okay. Well, I want to thank you for coming in today and talking to me and sharing your stories.
Knutson: Well, [LAUGHTER] okay, I hope I gave some information that you could use. I don't know. I hope this fellow over here can edit this real good, so I don't look like an idiot.
[LAUGHTER]
Man one: Boy! I'll give you my word.
Knutson: Okay, good, make me look good.
Man one: You got it.
Bauman: Well, thanks very much, Lucille. I appreciate it.
Knutson: Oh, you're welcome. Was it okay?
Bauman: Oh, yeah, it was great, thank you.
Knutson: Okay.
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 | Hungate_Frank
Woman one: That’d be kind of cool if that was that.
Man one: That’s exciting, because they pop when they do that.
Robert Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Well, it’d wake you up, anyway, right? [LAUGHTER]
Man one: Yeah.
Bauman: Wow.
Man one: Okay, are we about ready? Yeah? OK? Go ahead and roll. Is it rolling?
Woman one: Record.
Bauman: All right. Well, let's get started then. Let's start by having you say your name, and then spell your last name for us, please.
Frank Hungate: Frank Hungate. And H-U-N-G-A-T-E.
Bauman: All right, thanks very much. And my name's Bob Bauman. And today is August 14, of 2014. And we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri Cities. So I'd like to start maybe by asking you to talk about when you came to Hanford, and how that came about.
Hungate: My wife and I came in August of 1952. And previously I had been teaching at Reed College, and had been doing some work in radiation, including treating a patient—helping advise and treat a patient who had advanced melanoma. And that was quite exciting because we were at Reed College, and we were consultant to the local physician. And this woman had big nodules the size of a fist around on her body.
Bauman: Wow.
Hungate: And we gave her a massive dose of I-131. And I prepared it and gave it to her. And the bottom line was I received Christmas cards from her from over ten years. And it was far as I know, was the only case that I ever heard of where that treatment was efficacious. And I guess partly because of that, and also I had become acquainted with the person from at the MAAC who was hiring. And they convinced me to come up here to Hanford. And we came in August, and it was bloody hot. And we were assigned a ranch house out on Cottonwood. And I guess one of the things--I came up a month early. And then my wife sort of cleared the house. And at that time, General Electric was the hiring person, there the governing body. And they paid for the move and everything. And it was sort of interesting, because when they moved, and we opened up the truck, here was a garbage can full of garbage to increase the weight that they could charge to you. [LAUGHTER] We moved, of course, from Portland. So that's sort of the basis on which I come up here.
Bauman: Okay. And so what position were you hired into when you first came?
Hungate: I was hired in as a research scientist in the biology department. And that department again, I had become acquainted with Harry Kornberg, who is the Director of the Biology Department at that time.
Bauman: About how large was the biology department, at that time?
Hungate: As I recall, the biology department at that time was about 110 or 120 people. And of course, at that time, it seems strange now, but at that time, we knew basically nothing about what the effects of radiation on living systems were. So our goal was to elaborate and expand our knowledge of the effects of radiation on living systems, and whatever system.
Bauman: Right. So how do you go about testing that?
Hungate: Well, of course, in addition to understanding the effects, one of the big problems was to monitor and determine the extent and magnitude of the dissipation of radiation from the reactors and from separations. And of course at that time, I-131 was a major factor. So we had extensive monitoring programs to evaluate where the radiation is going, how much was being released. We sampled milk from farms all over the Northwest here to determine the spread extent—potential impact on people. One of our programs was for monitoring rabbits, because they were a stand in for cattle. And we would monthly go out in the same area, collect half a dozen jack rabbits. And they were always plentiful. [LAUGHTER] And then evaluate their thyroid gland for the content of I-131 as well as bones for other isotopes. So monitoring was a major problem. And then of course later, this program was expanded to look much more widely. And we had a very extensive program on people. And Alaska was a big place, because it was observed that the Eskimos up there had periodic very high levels of radiation. I say high—that's relative to nothing—levels of radiation. And it was interesting because we discovered that the content of cesium--that's a law fairly long lived isotope that was prevalent in release. And this of course, was not from Hanford release, this was from bomb testing release, that we expanded to Alaska. And there the cesium became a significant factor. And we observed a number of things. One of the things I found quite very interesting was the seasonality of intake of--or our observing higher levels of the cesium in the Eskimos didn't appear to be like it should be. It was sort of displaced by six months. And we discovered that the reason is that the Eskimos hunted the reindeer during their migration period, after they had been browsing on lichen. That was their forage during the winter. And then the Eskimos would deep freeze these caribou—or reindeer--deep freeze them in their permafrost pits. And then they would eat them during the following six months, so that the high levels of cesium were offset. [LAUGHTER] And lichen is an interesting plant because it does not die back like annual plants. It continues to grow, and that's the reason that it accumulates, because it accumulates from the time it starts exist until it's eaten. And so you have an accumulation of material over a period of time. [LAUGHTER] As I think about it, another interesting thing, to me at least, was that among the cities that had levels of strontium higher than others was San Francisco. And we puzzled about that and finally concluded that probably the reason they had a higher level was that they ate a lot of whole wheat bread. And the whole wheat would contain typically higher levels of calcium. Well, strontium is a counterpart of calcium, so it would be taken up just like calcium would. And that's the only reason we could think of why San Francisco would have higher levels of that. So it was exploring not only the effects of radiation, but the distribution of radionuclides, not just from the plant here, but worldwide.
Bauman: Interesting. So you mentioned that you studied rabbits onsite. What sort of findings did you have? Did they have any unusually high levels of iodine?
Hungate: Well of course, they were very close in to the plant. And so their content of iodine was higher than as you go on out. So they sort of gave us an indication of any variation which would be interesting to follow up on.
Bauman: So you came in 1952. How long did you work at Hanford?
Hungate: Well, I really can't remember exactly when I retired, but I worked here close to 30 years. And then I had a very interesting period of about five years post-retirement from Pacific Northwest labs. I was hired to examine record literature. The cardboard boxes that contained all of the research notes, everything pertaining to Hanford, which had--amazing to me--had been stored and was looked at. And it was looked at because suddenly people became very interested in potential effects on people. And this came about during that period when there was quite a little agitation to reimburse people who could have taken up higher levels of radionuclides, either workers or downwinders, or whatever. And I had the opportunity of looking through the boxes. And I was telling my son, Tom, that one of the things that I was so interested in, and I was able to read the diary of Matthias, who had located this land. And also the descriptions of the construction. Our labs, at that time, in the earlier part, were out of 100F. Were just across the road from 100-F Reactor. And I was so interested to see the comments that were made during construction of it. This is--and I don't remember the dates--but those reactors were built in basically a year, when we knew nothing about radiation. Now of course, it takes about 15 or 20 years to build one, because there’s all kinds of hurdles to go through. Anyhow, as I was reading, why, here was this diary of the--and I can't remember his name—the officer who was in charge of the construction. And it said, and we've finished the third layer of carbon block today. [LAUGHTER] It was just very exciting.
Bauman: You mentioned when you arrived in 1952, that it was really hot.
Hungate: August, August, yes.
Bauman: Yeah. What were your other first impressions of the area? Had you been here previously at all?
Hungate: Well, I was born in Cheney, and we—many times we were driving down to visit my brother in Vancouver, or go to California, or one thing, and we had seen this area. In fact, I don't remember why, but on one occasion my wife and I were traveling with the children back from Priest Lake, and we came through on the 4th of July, late. And I remember we didn't know what was going on here at all. And here was fireworks-- [LAUGHTER] --celebration out in the midst of nothing. And so it was a bit later that then we discovered when the--of course when the bomb was used everything became very public. And I also had had an earlier sort of indirect exposure to this area. My brother's brother-in-law used to teach out at White Bluffs. And it was very notable because I remember they had a very heavy duty problem because Norm had come into Kennewick for some kind of a party or something. Movie maybe? And on the way back home, some kind of an accident occurred, and the fellow teacher was killed. And the whole family of course was quite upset, and trying to console Norm and make him feel not too miserable with the whole arrangement. So I had known a little bit about this area. In retrospect it's interesting, as a kid all this area between Spokane and here was sagebrush. Just endless sagebrush. Rolling hills of sagebrush.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] What was the community of Richland like when you arrived in 1952?
Hungate: The big barracks that had been out at North Richland, had already been moved down to Vanport in Portland. And one reason that I know that had occurred was that they had the big Vanport flood while we were still in Portland. Where the dikes broke, and those huge dormitories went floating out into the Columbia on down the river. Anyhow, but we still had a lot of basically what I'd call shacks out in North Richland. And the town was sort of in a stage of recovery from heavy duty construction to operation. And the bypass was in place. We had the wind break around there. And that was a godsend, because those wind storms coming through were—I know our neighbors out on Cottonwood—we had a ranch house assigned to us—and our neighbors reported that previously when they had one of those dust storms come through, they'd put their--moist their towels and put them inside the windows, and still they'd have wind rows of dust. [LAUGHTER] And of course those were called termination winds. Termination because a lot of temporary construction disappeared. Blown away. And a lot of workers disappeared, moving away. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: And when you moved into the ranch home on Cottonwood, I know Richland was a government town at the time. Were you able to own the home at that time?
Hungate: Oh, no. That was assigned. We felt extremely fortunate in getting a reasonably nice sized home for the family and actually lived there three years, but then felt the pressure of needing a bigger place, and build over in Kennewick. It was sort of an interesting occasion because my wife and I, that night, each discovered that we found a piece of land that we were interested in. And when we went, we'd each seen the same piece. [LAUGHTER] A two-acre piece over in Kennewick.
Bauman: I guess it worked out that you saw the same piece, then? [LAUGHTER]
Hungate: It was fortunate it was the same piece.
Bauman: So let's go back and talk a little bit more about the work you were doing. So you came as a research scientist in the biology department. I interviewed Bill Bair a while back, and he said that you hired him?
Hungate: Yes. And I think after--there were a number of sort of group heads out there. Roy Thompson was a very heavy standard part, and gave me a lot of counsel in coming in. And I think it was either two or three years after we were here that we were able to get Bill to come and join us. And of course, he took over a lot of the animal work. I was initially a research scientist, and then became the head of the--I think it was called at that time, Plant Nutrition and Ecology, or something like that. And that's when I was in charge of monitoring the distribution of isotopes in Alaska, and one thing, and another. And then later the ecology group was split off. And I think I was then in charge of the Plant Nutrition Group. And instead of continuing to do individual research, I then carried on a program and gradually moved away from my prime field of genetics into a variety of other things. And I became heavily involved in looking at the use of radiation in foods. And became with my research, very, very much a positive--or my attitude was that it's very unfortunate we don't use radiation more in processing foods. I remember at that time they were using, and they may still be using, chemicals to inhibit sprouting in potatoes. And we found that a dose of--really a modest dose of maybe 5,000 rads--would inhibit sprouting. So I had access to it. And I typically always irradiated the potatoes I took home, because my wife really felt that they just kept much better. And so we used irradiated potatoes essentially all the time we were here. And one of the foods that I was very aware of was the papayas that—coming in from various places, and Hawai’i was a major one. They were treated with chemicals. And they came in and spotted and just not very--I had tasted and used when I was over on the island, irradiated papayas. And if they'd used irradiation instead of chemicals, they would have come in as basically just like they picked them off the tree. And the radiation of course was used—or the chemicals was used to get rid of noxious insects, pests that you didn't want to come into this country. Quite legitimate treatment, but I just felt they were using the wrong thing when they used chemicals. Then at a later stage, we became quite interested in just an evolving bone marrow transplant to treat leukemics. And one of the major problems that that kind of treatment, moving tissue between people is rejection. And early rejection was very serious when I first got involved. And we thought that there would be a possibility that irradiating the irradiation preferentially kills off actively dividing cells. And those who would be the white cells that cause leukemia, and also are the initiator of rejection. And so we scratched our head and came up with an idea for a blood irradiator. And that led to some work, and we evolved a unit using the radio isotope thulium as a radiation source. And there were three of us. Roy Bunnell was the chemist involved, and he made the units. Bill—hmm, can't bring up his last name—was the person who put everything together, and I was the sort of coordinator. I had to conceive the idea. Anyhow, we made and tested these blood irradiators in a variety of animals, mostly dogs. And our test was to transplant a kidney into the dog from another dog, and then determine how long it would survive as compared with unirradiated—dogs that had not been treated with the blood irradiator. And we found that there was always a significantly longer period of retention of the kidney. And in one particular case, there was—and I don't remember why it was so notable in that dog, except that he was on a little longer than others—when we autopsied, as we always did, to see what was going on, we examined the spleen. And a spleen typically is a mass about that size. In this case, it was hardly the size of an eraser on a pencil. It was just—all of the lymphocytes had been taken away. And that's the home for the lymphocytes, is in the spleen. And it shrunk the spleen down to basically nothing. But about the time we were well into that program, then they discovered a chemical—and I don't remember which one it is—which was very effective in suppressing rejection. And so there was a lack of interest in pursuing the blood irradiator. I think it's a possibility for treatments, various treatments that are resistant to other thing. One of the interesting features of the thulium is that you can make your object in the laboratory with no radiation whatsoever. And we use vitreous carbon to be the housing for the thulium. You put the thulium in whatever form you want, and then you get all your material formed, then you put it into a reactor and activate the thulium to become radioactive. So it's a very neat way of getting a radiation source where you don't have the problem of exposure during fabrication. Because of the advent of the chemical, there was no incentive to pursue and develop the blood irradiator into a human application. So although we had a patent, of course it's long lapsed.
Bauman: Around what time period was this that you were working the blood irradiator?
Hungate: I beg your pardon?
Bauman: Around what time period would this have been that you were working on this?
Hungate: Oh, I suspect we may have worked on that for I guess four or five years, maybe.
Bauman: During what time would this have been? What years would it have approximately been?
Hungate: I lose time. [LAUGHTER] I lose time. It's not--
Bauman: Yeah, that’s all right. I know in talking to Bill Bair, when he used dogs for his experiments, he used beagles. Did you use beagles for the experiments as well?
Hungate: Yeah, we used the beagles as they say for--as our prime material. We also used both sheep and goats. And I look back with a great deal of pleasure because the goats were so interesting. They're quite an individual animal. And I remember of course, with the animal, the blood irradiator works by putting in what you call an AV shunt. An arteriovenous shunt. And the arterial pressure pushes the blood through. And the trick is to make your irradiator, or whatever it is, so that it doesn't cause clotting of the blood. And that was another part of the scenario, but I won't get into that now. But I would, at least once a day, check to make sure the flow was going. I used a Doppler flow meter, which measures the flow rate. And I remember as I was working with a goat, checking, and suddenly I realized that he was cropping my head. I didn't have much hair, but what little hair there was here, he was cropping. [LAUGHTER] He was trying to find something to munch on. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] That’s crazy. Where did you get the goats, and sheep, and dogs, were you able to [INAUDIBLE]?
Hungate: We had, let's see, we had dogs, we had goats, we had sheep, we had miniature pigs. These were our primary experimental animals. And there were a lot of different experimental programs going on simultaneously. In fact, one of the programs that was going on was we were looking at the possibility, it wasn't my group, the possibility of using plutonium-238 to drive a heart pump—have an artificial pump for the heart. And one of the things that was relevant was whether the body could easily dissipate the heat associated with the decay of the Pu-238 in the amount that would be needed. And I remember one autopsy that was performed. And we would take an electrically--a battery driven electric heater and put in the dorsal aorta to simulate what the plutonium-238 heat would be. We were looking at whether the body could tolerate that much extra heat. And so they had these electrically-driven battery pack driven heaters. And on one occasion we autopsied a pig that had had one of these right in the thoracic dorsal aorta, and discovered that the heater had somehow fractured and broken, and yet we had never seen any sign of body function failure or anything. And it's quite amazing to think that the auxiliary circulation could take over so immediately from the failure of that main thing that feeds the kidneys, the gut, the whole thing, back legs, everything--but the auxiliary circulation had taken over without ever noticing any big damage. Quite amazing. The body is an amazing function—amazing machine. Another major program that I have always looked back on was the use of what we call void metal in bone replacement, or bone fracture, or whatever. And the theory—we would have these things that we were putting in—basis for teeth—basis for repairing a break in a bone. We'd have our metallurgy department make these void metal prostheses, and then put them in and the tooth work was done on pigs. And we'd put in this post in the pig. And then put the cap on, just like is done now in artificial teeth. And then the pigs would be chewing on metal bars, and one thing or another. And we never lost one. And I remember on one occasion--this was not my program, this was in biology department--on one occasion, we took a section of femur out and put in a sleeve of void metal. Put it in there and repair the—suited up. And put the goat right out to pasture. Never saw any effect. Goat walked around just as though it had nothing except a slight—the operation itself. And as a consequence of all this, when I had my hip transplant back before I retired in fact, I had had a bad injury on the hip. And when I had a hip transplant, I had the void metal put in. And they were available. And I still have that. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So you've benefited directly.
Hungate: Yeah. I've benefited from my knowledge. Yep.
Bauman: So, you and your unit worked on a wide variety of research projects.
Hungate: Well of course, some of those--the void metal and many of those were not in mine. I was simply involved as one of the team that was interested in what's going on.
Bauman: Right. So when you came in 1952, you worked for GE, is that right?
Hungate: Yes, and they were here for basically 10 years. I felt GE was an excellent organization to work for.
Bauman: I guess—what made them an excellent organization to work for?
Hungate: They had a policy where if there were corporate meetings, everybody in the company would know within 24 hours what happened. They were very interested in everybody being interested in the company. And since retirement and so forth I—on a number of occasions—have run into former GE people, and uniformly I have found that they were all pleased with working with that corporation. And I guess, I believe, GE is the only member of the original--what do they have? 25 corporations that form the basis for one of the big evaluation, the national evaluations we have. And I think they're the only one of the originals that still is a member.
Bauman: And then when GE left--
Hungate: Then GE of course, found itself in a conflict of interest situation where they felt that they could not operate this for the government, and then be building reactors for private applications. And they bowed out. And that's when Battelle took over. And again, Battelle is a very, very good organization to work for. Nothing but pleasure.
Bauman: I want to ask you about President Kennedy came out to the site in 1963.
Hungate: [LAUGHTER] That was--what a flap!
Bauman: What do you remember about that?
Hungate: Well we, along with large numbers of others, went out and at that time my son, Jess, was a member of the band that was asked to play when he came in. And so we were all crowded around there and watching, and then here comes a helicopter. And the band the strikes up Hail to the Chief. Well, this and that got out. Not Kennedy. So then another helicopter comes in, and they strike up the band. Some people got out, not Kennedy. I think there were at least three or four that came in before Kennedy actually came in. [LAUGHTER] It was quite--but the band played for every one of them. And he gave a very, very good talk. I thought it was quite a nice occasion.
Bauman: Mm-hmm. During your roughly 30 years or so that you worked at Hanford, you obviously must've seen a lot of changes take place.
Hungate: Oh yes, of course.
Bauman: Obviously one of them being the change from GE to Battelle. But what are other changes?
Hungate: Well, of course, one of the most dramatic changes. We used to have this lab out—a cement block building out there, three or four stories, right near F Reactor. So that we drove out and went through the security and all that kind of thing. And I must say, those drives were sometimes pretty exciting because we carpooled. And I guess I got the reputation of being a fairly speedy driver. And I remember one occasion we were driving out there, and we'd had a freezing rain. And it was just sheet—slick. In fact, it was so slick that when I stopped out here on Harris to pick up the last member of our carpool, I put on the brake and we just sort of kept on going. That's when I learned that with an automatic, you do not just let it drive; you put it in neutral, and then put on the brake. Because the driving force—the engine is still pushing you, unless you take it out of gear. So my philosophy on driving was when you go quite a distance and it's a fairly straight road, you keep your momentum going forward. And so I guess I developed a reputation for being a fairly rapid driver on that kind of road. But we never had any accident in that occasion. I guess the worst time was one of our members of the car pool at one time was a young woman who had one of these cars that had the high fin on the back. And as I got out, having gotten through security, the security checkpoint, not the first one, the second one right as we went into F Reactor, I inadvertently slammed the door and didn't get my finger out, and cut off one of my fingers in that fin. So I had to take me back in, get it sewed back in place. But it's still there. I just have a little scar there. [LAUGHTER] Anyhow, the driving out, then—and I can't tell you when it was--they abandoned that lab and moved Biology into a lab here in the town, next to town, still on government land. And that of course negated the big drive out, so that we didn't have that big commute. That's one of the major things. Then of course, as initially when we were with GE, the object was a very general one. Of studying the effects on whatever living system it was. One of the projects that I was involved with, we were very unsure what was the rate of deposition of I-131 on vegetation. So we set up a tower and deliberately released I-131, and then monitored downwind at a distance, to see what the deposition on the vegetation was. It was this kind of thing. As I mention this, another of the programs—and this was not our program, but one that we had reviewed and approved was there was no knowledge of the recovery of cells from radiation—the ability of cells to recover. And one of the men—scientists from Seattle had proposed a system where they could irradiate the testes and then recover cells, because that's a fairly rapid reproducing system. Recovering cells at periodic times. And they used inmates at Walla Walla for that program. And later that become extremely critical--there was a great criticism of that program. I had mentioned earlier reading these boxes of literature. It was interesting, I came across a letter from an inmate, a Walla Walla inmate, complaining that he had not been selected to go into this program. [LAUGHTER] This was done--the reading of the letter—my reading was at the time when all this heavy criticism of that program. So times change. When you learn more about things, then you become more interested in some of the details. And we wanted the big picture. We wanted to explore the big picture of effects. And I don't remember where we were in the discussion, but—[LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Yeah, you were answering a question I had asked about changes taking place. And you mentioned a couple times security, having to go through security. Obviously, security was very much emphasized at Hanford. I wonder what ways that impacted you at all? Your work in any way? Or was it more just everyday you had to go through security to get--?
Hungate: Had to be sure you had your badge. I guess in the security, that's a mixed bag. I guess one of the most troublesome times I had--and I don't remember what timeframe this was, except it was very early--was during the McCarthy era where we were forced, if we wanted to continue employment, to sign some kind of an agreement they were non-communist. I don't remember what it was. And I had quite a lot of soul searching to determine whether I was going to sign it or not. Because the whole era I felt so strongly was not appropriate. But when I actually read what was there, I decided I would sign it and stayed on. But if you didn't sign it, you were let go.
Bauman: Did you know people who chose not to sign it at all?
Hungate: I think I knew two or three, but there was a general signing, yeah. This was the era of course, when so many of the people in Hollywood were being heavily hit with this whole attitude. They didn't have to sign, but they certainly were abused.
Bauman: Mm-hmm. Did security at the site get relaxed at all over the years? Or was it always pretty--
Hungate: Always pretty rigorous, yeah. And of course speaking of security, one of the things that I learned early on is how to put clothes on and take them off without getting any contamination on yourself. [LAUGHTER] You learn techniques of clothing, and how to handle radiation so that you are not seriously exposed, damaged. And we had very excellent so-called health physics people who monitored how we handled things. And if we were working with radiation, we always had a health physicist right there indicating—if we made a misstep, they'd tell us right there. Now that's not security; it's security in a different manner. But as far as I guess in security, very early on, we would, several times a day, see a security car going around through town. And almost immediately when we moved in, there was a security guy came and checked to make sure it was appropriate. And speaking of driving through town, that was a period when DDT was extensively used, and we were sort of appalled by—the mosquitoes were a serious problem. They had the potholes around the rivers here and so forth. And they had heavy duty sprayers going through town, putting out a fog--literally a fog--of DDT in this—whatever the carrier was. And it was so sort of shook my wife and me to see kids riding their bicycle right in this heavy fog following these foggers around town [LAUGHTER] breathing diesel or whatever it was that they were putting out, plus the DDT. I guess the kids survived well. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Going back, you've mentioned the special gloves that you wore, what other precautions did you have to take when you were working with radioactive material? Did you have other special clothing you had to wear?
Hungate: Oh, yes. You always--when you were working, you always used at least a lab coat. If you were working where there was any potential for anything, then you had--you would have a coveralls, your shoes would be covered with canvas. Everything would be taped so that you were basically--here your face would be out, but nothing else. Your hands--these would be taped to the sleeves of the coveralls so that you were using--and when you got out of it, then you had to take these off in a manner so that if there was contamination on the clothing, you didn't get yourself contaminated. Now again, always with a health physicist.
Bauman: And did you have to go through any sort of training—safety training for that?
Hungate: No, we just really sort of were guided by the health physicists. And of course I had--while I was still teaching at Reed--I had taken a one-month course at Oak Ridge. And that had sort of prep me for this whole program. I took that because Reed had a reactor. And may still have it. I don't know. Anyhow, and that's of course why I got into that treatment of that patient who had the melanoma, because I had had some training in the use of radioisotopes.
Bauman: You've mentioned a number of different research programs or projects that you were involved in. I wonder, in your 30 years working at Hanford, what were some of the more challenging aspects of working Hanford? Some of the challenging things you worked on, and maybe some of the most rewarding?
Hungate: Well, of the things about being a research scientist, is that you sort of set your own agenda. And I guess after Battelle took over, there was not a ready access to overall programs. And one of the challenges that we had to move into was writing a proposal for funding. And that came with Battelle. And then your program was dependent on that being accepted for use during the next year or two. And I think many of us found that one of the more challenging problems. And of course any scientist nowadays is doing the same thing every year—writing a program by which they get funded. And as a scientist, I think that's one of the biggest challenges that you have. Once you get the funding, then you have different challenges, but they're much more easily visualized and taken care of. That it was quite an awakening when we moved from the overall general funding, where there was a great deal of cooperation among different physicists, chemists, whatnot, biologists, to having individual programs that were funded. And at the time, we thought it was a regression. But it was just simply a maturation of programs that had to occur.
Bauman: And how about the most rewarding aspect of working at Hanford, what was it?
Hungate: Oh, I think we had a great group of people to work with. And I think the association with minds and people that were similarly involved was in my opinion, just wonderful, quite great. I had the great opportunity of being asked to spend a year in Greece as a consultant to the Greek Atomic Energy Program. And that was--let's see. That happened in--was still with GE at the time. So that would have been in the late 50s. And the family and I—there were a number of us. Spent a year in England, various places. I think one of--Jack Cline spent a year in Tunisia. One of my biology--Bob Euler spent a year in England. So there was quite a lot of worldwide exchange. And one of the features that I look back on that I don't remember--I think we had about five or six groups in biology--and when we would have an annual research get together, an international get together, and be hosts here, then our group--all our heads would get together with Harry Kornberg and whatnot, and host these. And we would have these people come to our home. And I remember one occasion when Harry Kornberg was hosting. And he had a big barbecue pit behind his house, and somehow or other, a little over hot, hot. And he was having these chickens on--with huge flames coming. [LAUGHTER] It was somewhat seared. But as a group, we just worked together to make these nice occasions. And I had a couple of acres over in Kennewick, and I had planted pie cherry trees, because when teaching at Reed, Reed had some pie cherry trees. And they had you pick, so you could go and pick. And I thought that was so great, so when I had this acreage, I planted about, as I recall, something of the order—30 or 40 pie cherries, and the same number of peaches. And so I produced the pie cherry. I discovered that you could not allow people to pick peaches, because the branches were much too brittle. They'd break the branches off when they'd reach. Pie cherries are much tougher, and you could allow you pick. Anyhow—and I had all--quite a little excess fruit which I then began to ferment and make into wine. And on one occasion, we were having a group over to our house for the dinner and evening, and I was serving wine. And it was in the fall. And I looked around, and practically everybody's glass had at least three or four drosophila. You know, these fruit flies had settled in their glass of wine. [LAUGHTER] So it's just one of the things that happens, particularly when you have a lot of fruit around. So anyhow, these sort of personal reactions were very, very gratifying.
Bauman: I just want to go back a bit and clarify, so what building did you work out of initially? Where were you located?
Hungate: 100-F. And I forget the number of the building. That brings up another idea. When I was in charge of a cesium irradiator. And it was a big tub of lead, and had six tubes. And the cesium was stored down in this big tub of lead for shielding, so you could access without having exposure. And then you would have these pellets of cesium raised up into tubes that you could adjust to different sizes and spread. And you'd close a big door this thick of concrete, to provide shielding. And then irradiate. That's where I had to rad my wife's potatoes. And we, at one stage, became involved with a group over in Seattle who was interested in the same kind of thing that we got in with the blood irradiator, providing sterile food to the people who had the bone marrow transplants. So they wouldn't become infected with something that they couldn't fight off because they were being compromised in their immune reaction. And so we had, I'd say two or three years, where we were working with the head of food to irradiation over there, Fae Dong, and her students, looking at ways of producing in that case, primarily dairy products. And we examined the radiation of ice cream and things you can't sterilize really, any other way. And a lot of them were just great. It turned out that milk and some of the milk products, develop what's called the Wet Dog Syndrome. You know the odor of a wet dog? Well, this food developed that kind of odor. But we were irradiating with massive amounts. Somewhere on the order of 5 million rads to get it totally sterile. These are the same kinds of treatments that the astronauts--the kind of food that the astronauts had--they were treated with similar kinds of doses—very massive. And I also used the irradiator as a service unit for various people in the industries. I know I irradiated some soil samples for folks up in the Forest Service in Idaho. And there was a private guy who was developing high yield mint. Mint used to be a big crop around in this area. He was from Corvallis. And maybe two or three times a year, he would bring me slips of mint, and then I'd put them around this irradiator and irradiate them. And the reason you're doing that is you're creating mutations. Then he would take them and plant them, and then select those that produce the higher amounts of mint oil. And I think we were quite successful in improving the rate of mint production by his process of selection. We did a number of—I was working with another man over in Pullman. He was interested in irradiating beans, as I recall. And in talking with him later, he said that, you know, those beans that you irradiated, they cooked in about half the time that it normally would take to cook. Well, that makes good sense, because ionizing radiation breaks long bonds. And that's basically what happens with cooking. So you're pre-cooking your beans with irradiation. [LAUGHTER] And as far as flavor is concerned--oh yeah, mentioning flavor. We were also working with a group—I don't remember which one of the big canning corporations—and they were bringing in corn. And we irradiated corn with massive amounts of radiation. Sterilizing amounts. And then we would take the irradiated and the non-irradiated around, and have the folks around the lab taste them. And I was very interested because when we did this, the preference on the average, was they preferred the irradiated corn over the normal corn, unirradiated corn. The flavor was enhanced by the irradiation.
Bauman: Interesting. Wow.
Hungate: Yeah. That's one thing that I think we've really missed the boat. I think we should be using nuclear power more, much more. And I think we should be using irradiation much more. And you’d never know until you get into using something, what are the things that are positive versus those that are negative. And it's just a process of experimenting. And one reason I became convinced in that was that corn experiment we did. Where people were actually preferred the irradiated over the non-irradiated. I wouldn't have believed it until we did it. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: You mentioned earlier when we were talking about chemicals being used on foods versus irradiated foods. So why do you think that that has been that we haven't done more of that irradiated foods, or used chemicals more than radiation?
Hungate: The press has chosen to make irradiation a very bad thing, whether it's for generating power or whatever. And my wife commented that had we been introduced--had the public been introduced to electricity with the electric chair, their attitude toward electricity might be quite different than it is. The US public was introduced to radiation with a nuclear bomb. They knew basically nothing about it. In fact, I remember going in to shoe stores and sticking my foot into an irradiator to see how my foot fit in the shoe. You thought nothing about it. And I think her comparison was quite apt. It gave the press the pressure to be a negative thing about radiation.
Bauman: Well—
Hungate: And also, so few people have the opportunity of working with it like I did. To realize that it's just there, and you just treat it with respect. And I guess also, I am—and there is some literature to back this up—I have for a long time felt that a small amount of radiation is a very positive thing. The literature that I refer to is some studies that were made in the spas, these hot springs in Europe, where people went in and sat in these caves or whatever. Those were high radiation situations. And the studies that I am talking about looked at those people who worked in these facilities, where there were periods of eight or 12 or whatever hours, compared to a comparable number in the town—comparable people in a town who did not work there. And they found that the average health and longevity was better among those who worked in those facilities than in those that did not. And I remember my uncle and aunt used to go over to Montana and go down in a mine and sit in a radiation exposure mine. And so I think that furthermore, all life has evolved in much higher radiation environment than we now have. By the nature of radiation, the earth is gradually losing its radiation, because it's decaying. And so we literally are losing the radiation to which we have grown up with and evolved with. So personally, I think a low level radiation is a positive thing. That's contrary to the current philosophy.
Bauman: Let me ask you one more question. That is, I teach a course on the Cold War. My students are all too young to remember the Cold War. [LAUGHTER]
Hungate: The Cold War? Yes.
Bauman: Why do you think it's important for people to learn about Hanford and some of the work that was done there?
Hungate: Well, I guess my feeling is that, as I said earlier, few people have had the opportunity of working with radiation. And the more you know about people who have worked with it, and—for instance, myself. I'm 96, and I've been working with radiation a long—major part of my life. And I think it's essential that people learn more about everything. For instance, very few people realize that the radiation put out from burning coal is more than you get from a nuclear plant. That does not make me a person who is interested in more coal to get more radiation, despite my comments. [LAUGHTER] But I just think we need to know more about our history and things that we don't get in touch with on many occasions. It's like everybody's interested in Cousteau because he's in an environment that we really aren't able to get into. It's that kind of attitude.
Bauman: Well, I want to thank you very much for coming in today and sharing your stories about all the work you did. I really appreciate it.
Hungate: It's my pleasure.
Bauman: Thanks very much.
Northwest Public Television | Donahue_Curt
Camera man: Rolling here. I'll set this while you do your--
Bauman: Okay. We'll go ahead and get started. I'm going to start by just having you say your name and then spell it.
Donahue: Oh, okay. It's Curt Donahue. It's C-U-R-T D-O-N-A-H-U-E.
Bauman: Thank you. And my name's Robert Bauman. Today is August 7th of 2013. And we're conducting oral history interview with Mr. Donahue on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. And we'll be talking about Mr. Donahue's experiences working in the Hanford site. So I'd like to start maybe with having you talk about how you came to Hanford, what brought you here, when you came, and that sort of thing.
Donahue: Okay. In 1944, my father was out of work, and we lived in White Salmon, Washington. And the superintendent of schools was receiving a job here in Richland as the principal at one of the schools and asked my dad if he was interested in having a custodian job here. And he was. He wanted any job. So we moved here in September of 1944 and lived in one of the original houses. I was nine years old, and I tell people now I used to roam the streets of Richland before they were streets. It was a very unique period to grow up and a unique town to grow up in. There were so many things that we were able to do that kids just can't do today. So when I graduated from high school, I went to work in the 700 Area to begin with. And, after a few months, transferred out to the 300 Area and ended up working really all over. I was in regional monitoring and then radiation monitoring.
Bauman: So let's talk a little bit first about your years growing up here. You mentioned that there were sort of things that kids could do here that—
Donahue: Yeah, we—
Bauman: Do you have any stories or memories about that?
Donahue: Yeah, one of the things that I remember most, and that was to be able to sleep outside. Just take a blanket and a piece of canvas and roll up in the backyard and sleep outside. The only hazards were the mosquitoes, and sometimes I'd wake up with an eye shut and a fat lip. And then there was a stream from an irrigation flue that ran along Wellsian Way. And my wife doesn't believe me, but there used to be a lake there. And there was a wooded area right where the flue emptied. And it was kind of a pool there and a sandy beach. And several of my friends and I would go camp overnight there, three blocks from home. But we were off in another world, and we really enjoyed having that freedom.
Bauman: So this is near Wellsian Way? Is that sort of near where Fred Meyer is now?
Donahue: Yeah. Where Fred Meyer is right now is actually the spot that had the sandy beach. And we would bring potatoes from home and bury them in the sand, build a campfire over them, and then have a potato snack before we went to sleep. [LAUGHTER] It was a lot of fun.
Bauman: And you said you moved into one of the early homes. Where was that, what complex?
Donahue: That was on Fitch, right on the corner of Fitch and Douglass. And the people that lived in the other end, the Browns, actually had the first option to buy, but they chose not to, so my parents bought the house and remodeled it and lived there for a good many years. 38 years, I think.
Bauman: So what schools did you go to then?
Donahue: I went to Lewis and Clark. In fact, that's where my dad was a custodian in those early years. And then I also went to school at Bethlehem Lutheran in Kennewick a couple of years. And my freshman year of high school, I spent at Concordia Academy in Portland, and then came to Columbia High School in Richland for the last three years. In fact, we're having our 60th anniversary this year.
Bauman: So '53?
Donahue: '53, yeah.
Bauman: How big was the class, do you remember?
Donahue: I think the class was 159. I know I graduated 59th out of that group. I was kind of in the middle.
Bauman: Other memories of Richland at the time? Were there community events, any sort of special events that you remember?
Donahue: Yeah. Atomic Frontier Days, of course, was our big event every year. And the church that I went to, the youth group usually put together some kind of a float. Sometimes it was maybe dressing up in something patriotic and riding on the back of a flatbed truck. But it was fun, and the people enjoyed it. And also, there was a group called the Mini Singers, and I was a member of that group and put on concerts every year until I outgrew it and was no longer considered a Mini Singer. When your voice changes from soprano to tenor, you are no longer invited. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: My sense of Richland at the time, especially in 1944, there's still wartime--'45, that there were people coming from all over the United States to work here. Is that your experience growing up?
Donahue: Oh, yes. Yeah. Every other classmate was from a different state, and it made for interesting living. They all had stories. Some of them were worth retelling, [LAUGHTER] and some of them were not.
Bauman: Let's talk about your work, then. You said you started basically right after you graduated high school, working at Hanford, 1953.
Donahue: Yeah. Actually, in August of that year, I got hired on. I worked in the reproduction shop in the 700 Area. My first job was a back tender on an ozalid machine. And that merely meant that when the ozalid prints came off that machine, they'd come out in a continuous sheet, so you'd have to trim each one, fold it up, and package it according to the orders. So you had to be rather speedy to keep up with the machine. And I managed to work my way through several different promotions in there and got to run a good number of the machines—Photostat machine, offset printer, things that we don't use anymore, really, because of the new reproduction facilities.
Bauman: So what sorts of things were you printing up there?
Donahue: It was configurations of equipment that was being built out at the project, buildings, and a lot of floor plans and that sort of thing. You really didn't have time to look at what it was, other than here’s the edge of it, cut it, and fold it up and keep moving.
Bauman: I want to go back quickly to before you started working there. Growing up here, how much did you know about Hanford and what was going on there?
Donahue: We knew nothing until they dropped the bomb. And then the Villager newspaper had that massive headline, and the word got out what was going on here. And there was a parade leaving town. There were, I guess, a goodly number of people who wanted no part of it or were afraid of it, essentially.
Bauman: So your recollection is a lot of people left at some point after that.
Donahue: Yeah.
Bauman: But by the time you went to work in '53, obviously, you knew what was--
Donahue: Oh, yeah. Yeah, we did.
Bauman: So you said you started the 700 Area, and then at some point, you moved to the 300 Area?
Donahue: 300 Area, and a group that was called regional monitoring. And the function there was to gather samples of vegetation, water, soil, and air samples and bring them back to the lab. So all we did was drive around the country, collecting samples and bring them back.
Bauman: So you would get samples from various parts of the area?
Donahue: Yeah. One route might be picking up water samples in all of the 100 Areas. Another route would be vegetation samples along the highway from 300 Areas to Two West. Soil samples in most anywhere. And then we'd do, with a Geiger counter, monitor about a 100 square foot area plot, here and there. And if we found large radioactive particles, we’d scoop them up in an ice cream cup and bring them back to the lab for their analysis.
Bauman: So at that point, it’d go to someone else who would do the analysis? Or were you involved in that analysis?
Donahue: I'm sorry. I didn't hear.
Bauman: After you brought it back to the lab, that would go to someone else?
Donahue: It would go to the lab. Yeah. We were not really part of the lab, other than we were the collectors. So we didn't know what the results were.
Bauman: And so if you detected something that seemed to suggest that there was something present, you would scoop it up and--
Donahue: No. On one trip—it was a cross country trip through the sagebrush. And on my way to Rattlesnake Mountain, and an eagle, a golden eagle, jumped up alongside of me and got about five feet off the ground and right back down, and running, and it turned in front of me, and I hit it. And it was injured, so I killed it and brought it into the lab, and they did an autopsy on it and gave it back to me, frozen. And so I had it mounted. It was a 59 inch wingspan. Beautiful bird. It was a shame to have hit it, but I didn't know why it wasn't getting off the ground until they gave it back to me. It had a whole rabbit in its stomach. It was a little too heavy [LAUGHTER] to lift off the ground, I guess.
Bauman: Too much weight. [LAUGHTER] So about how many people were, in terms of number of people, were involved in going out and giving this monitor?
Donahue: As I remember, about 15, I think.
Bauman: And so how long did you do that?
Donahue: Oh, almost two years, I think. And then I went into radiation monitoring.
Bauman: Okay. And so with the radiation monitoring, what did that involve?
Donahue: Dress up and tail a pipe fitter. Make sure it's okay where he's at, what he's doing, that he doesn't get over exposed. And just keep monitoring that process. And that was primarily what I did in the Hot Semi-Works in the 200 East Area. And then the last months that I worked there, I was going school at CBC and wanted to be on a rotating shift. And so then I monitored for the mobile x-ray crew. And we might end up anywhere in the area to x-ray something that they were interested in.
Bauman: And so your job was to make sure that people didn't too much exposure?
Donahue: To set up a barrier, and we'd find out what it is we're going to x-ray. And the technician would say, well, I'm going to have to use this much amperes and so on. And so I'd get an idea of, really, how far away do we need to keep people? And we'd set up that kind of a barrier and then do the job and get out of there, go do another one somewhere. It was interesting.
Bauman: Yeah. And were there dosimeters or something that you would check out? Was that part of it, as well, or--?
Donahue: I had a—I don't remember the name of the instrument now. That's a long time ago. It read rads, rather than millirads as a gauge. And so that's the tool that was used to monitor that operator and myself. And also would walk the perimeter to make sure that we had the level as low as we needed to.
Bauman: So this was in sort of mid to late 1950s?
Donahue: Yeah. I left in November of 1957. I got caught in an ROF and, having just got into radiation monitoring, I was in the lower 10%, and that's about—I think I was the last one in that group to be laid off.
Bauman: And what did you do, then, after that?
Donahue: I went into fraternal life insurance for a short time over in Olympia and applied at Boeing. And because of the time I spent monitoring for mobile x-ray, I got on as an x-ray technician in the Boe-Mark tank shop. And then worked my way from there through engineering. And then my last assignment before I retired was the engineer operations manager for Commercial Avionics Systems.
Bauman: And that was all at Boeing and--
Donahue: Spent 36 years there.
Bauman: So during your time in radiation monitoring, was there ever an incident where someone did—was exposed to too much or anything along those lines and sort of incidences?
Donahue: We had a problem—excuse me. At the Hot Semi-Works, there was a rupture in one of the lines going to tank farm. And so they brought in a big drag line to dig that up and connect to it and get a loop around the other side of where the break was. And I was monitoring that, and—it was a TP instrument that I was trying to think of earlier—and had it on a probe, a 30 foot probe. And I was halfway down in the hole, monitoring every scoop that the drag line brought up. And he finally brought up one that meter went off scale, and I come scrambling up out of the hole to get to where I could get a reading to determine what exposure I had and what the people up around it had, because there was 15, 20 people watching this excavation. And when I come running up out of the hole, they went running away. I was in the office, I think, for two weeks after that. Just kept me out of any more exposure for that length of time.
Bauman: Right. And was that sort of the practice if someone had been exposed, they had to stay--
Donahue: Yeah. Depending on what level of exposure you got, I knew guys who had to sit for a couple of days was all. And some had even longer than I did. Those things happened in that kind of business. And you deal with it the best way we know how.
Bauman: Yeah. Obviously, secrecy, security were very much a part of Hanford. Did that impact you at all?
Donahue: Well, security was, I think, very good, and you were checked everywhere you went. And by the time I was working out there, there wasn't so much secrecy anymore. Processes were, and it didn't seem like any one person knew the whole process. And the kind of work that I did, I was not interested in the process. I was interested in keeping somebody safe and myself safe. So processes weren't high on my priority list.
Bauman: Did you have to have special clearance to--
Donahue: Oh, yeah. I had a secret clearance.
Bauman: In terms of getting on the site, did you drive your own car? Did you take buses?
Donahue: No, drove cars and Jeeps and Dodge Power Wagon. I had the distinction of getting a Dodge Power Wagon stuck twice. Once because of a coworker told me, oh, you can get through there, and got about 15 feet into this wash that soaked to the running boards. It took two of those large Mack wreckers to lift that thing out of there. And then the other time was down by Horn Rapids. In the wintertime, the ground had frozen and then had thawed, so there was about an inch of thawed mud on top of the ice, and you could not get any traction at all. And it had to drag it out of there. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: What you would say were sort of the biggest challenges in working at Hanford for yourself, and what were some of the best rewards about your job there?
Donahue: I think the challenge was—particularly the jobs that I had on the project—were one of being alert to whatever radiation aspects, whatever exposure you were getting. Make sure you were alert to it so that you knew how to deal with it, how to handle it. And, of course, out on the project, when you're running around with a Geiger counter out in the sagebrush, you're pretty alert for rattlesnakes, too. And some of us had those experiences. But I guess I never considered what challenges we were facing. I have a very healthy respect for radiation, radioactive material. I was never afraid of it. And I think that the guys I worked with had the same attitude.
Bauman: And so the most rewarding part of working there, then?
Donahue: I think that when you took a guy into a cell in Semi-Works or a PUREX facility, and you brought him out, and you could tell them that, hey, you didn't get anything significant today. And the thanks that they showed and displayed, thanks for watching my back, so to speak. That was the most rewarding. That, and just the people you worked with. I can't recall anyone I worked with that I had really dislike for. Everybody was fun to be around.
Bauman: A lot of the students that I teach now were born after the Cold War ended. Obviously—you were working at Hanford in the 1950s, which was, really, in many ways, the height of the Cold War. I wonder if you have any thoughts about that in part for people who were born post-Cold War, things that you think would be important for them to understand about that period and working at Hanford during that time?
Donahue: I don't think people who were born really do understand. We grew up having the fear—in fact, the day that the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, we lived in White Salmon, and we went to church in Hood River, Oregon. And that toll bridge that we crossed, the toll taker told us that we had just been attacked. So on the way back from church, as a six-year-old, I'm looking downstream, afraid they're coming up the river. And that's kind of what we lived under for the next several years. And, of course, when those wars with Germany and Japan were ended, and it wasn't very long and we were into the Cold War. And lived again with, get under your desk, and this is what you do, and we practice it. And then the whole time working out here, well, until Gorbachev became the Premier of Russia, we lived under that threat. And so that was just the way you grew up, and I don't think people who have lived since then or even were real young in those latter years can really comprehend what that was like. And would I live that way again if I needed to? Yes. It was a time when everybody pitched in and did their part.
Bauman: I wonder if there are any other incidents or events or humorous things that happened during your time working at Hanford that sort of stand out to you?
Donahue: Yeah. The night after we found out the Russians had launched Sputnik, the x-ray technician and I, at the time that we were told it would be passing over, we stopped and got out where we were away from light, and we saw it going across the sky. And I just remember the eerie feeling to be able to look up there and see something that people had put up there. And it was working. And what did that mean? Where are we going to go from here? And of course, we've gone a long ways from there. And fortunately, we caught up and passed everybody. That was probably the thing that I would say stuck out most as a happening.
Bauman: Sure. And then how would you overall sort of assess Hanford as a place to work during your years there?
Donahue: I'm sorry. Say again?
Bauman: How would you assess Hanford as a place to work? How was it as a place to work?
Donahue: Oh, I was happy there. If I hadn't gotten laid off, I'd have retired there, I'm sure. I think it was a good place to work. I had fair management, and I thought I was paid a fair salary for what I was doing. I was very happy there. And I was disappointed to get caught in that kind of a situation, but I understood that it was seniority, and so you just roll with the punches and deal with it.
Bauman: Is there anything that I haven't asked you about or that we haven't had a chance to talk about yet that you'd like to?
Donahue: Hm. I have to tell one story. We were about 11 years old, I guess. The superintendent of schools at that time was Mr. Fergen, and his youngest son was the same age as me, and they lived in the house next door to the first house we lived in, one of the original homes, just east of the laundry dry cleaners. And Truman and I would wander, like I said, the streets before they were streets. And he was just wild about animals and plants and that sort of thing. And that's what he ended up doing in life, too. He studied biology. And one day, we were wandering around, and here was an irrigation ditch that had pretty well run dry. There was a dead muskrat. And he got so excited, and he picked that muskrat up, and he cradled it like it was a little baby, took it all the way home, and I thought, Truman, you're nuts. You have no idea what that thing's been—the next day at Lewis and Clark, he had it on a cart with the principal and going around to each classroom and giving all kinds of details about how the muskrat lived, and showing them their teeth. And I just—blew me away. I thought when he got home with that thing, his parents were going to tell him to throw it in the garbage can. [LAUGHTER] Here he showed the whole school!
Bauman: Good story.
Donahue: Ah, there's lots of other stories. My first job was selling newspapers in the cafeteria. And the cafeteria is the old buildings right across from the Federal Building. And I'd sell a Spokesman Review, and there were a number of men who would, when they finished reading their paper, as they went out to get on a bus or on one of the stretch cars, would give me the paper back, resell it. So it was kind of fun.
Bauman: This was a cafeteria for Hanford workers?
Donahue: Yeah. There were some big shots in there that would, because they had these stretch '42 Chevys, I think they were, that they'd piece together, and they had about four doors, five doors on each side. And some of these guys rode those, so you knew they were pretty much up there. And I believe that one of my customers was Enrico Fermi, because he was here incognito, and when I see pictures of him, I guess one of the guys that gave me my paper back. You don't forget those guys.
Bauman: So what year would this have been around when you--
Donahue: Well, that would have been in '44, early '45.
Bauman: Shortly after you got here.
Donahue: Yeah. And then about mid '45, I got a paper route of the whole south end. Then I was in the big money. Right? [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: So what paper was that?
Donahue: Spokesman Review. Yeah. I earned enough to buy a brand new Columbia bike, and I used that for the next several years, delivering papers. That was a proud moment.
Bauman: [LAUGHTER] Sure. Well, I want to thank you for coming in today—
Donahue: Certainly.
Bauman: --and sharing your experiences and memories. I appreciate it.
Donahue: I'm glad to be here, and it's fun to reminisce, too. So it's been fun for me.
Bauman: Good, great.
Northwest Public Television | Copeland_Harold
Robert Bauman: Well, we can go ahead and get started with the interview.
Harold Copeland: Sure.
Bauman: So first I'm going to have you say your name and then spell it also.
Copeland: Yes. I am Harold Copeland, Harold Curtis Copeland, H-A-R-O-L-D C-U-R-T-I-S C-O-P-E-L-A-N-D.
Bauman: All right. And my name’s Robert Bauman and today is August 6, of 2013. And we're conducting oral history interview on the campus of Washington State University Tri-Cities. And so we're going to be talking about your experiences working in the Hanford site. So I wonder if we could start by having you tell me first, how you came to Hanford, when you got here, any first impressions of the place, any of that.
Copeland: My wife and I came here from Denver, Colorado in October 1947. I was working for the Bureau of Reclamation. They were decentralizing their main office, sending people to all the field offices. General Electric came in recruiting and they had received word of this decentralization, looking for engineers. So there were a number of us that thought that's a good opportunity, so we came out here, 1947. We're driving our little three-window Ford Coupe and towing my Harley motorcycle on back. And the first impression of Richland was pretty grim. We came into town and all we saw were these flat-topped, prefab houses. They didn't have their peak roofs yet. And there was dust in the road and not hardly any trees. But we came here. General Electric said there's a job for five years. Well, for the first four or five years, we kept thinking, when do we go back to Colorado? I grew up in Colorado. See, it's a neat place in Fort Collins and I graduated from CSU there, so naturally, it was like home. But after five years, we began to like this place. We had the Columbia River, the Yakima River, had the Blue Mountains, the Cascades, and the ocean, and fishing in the ocean not too far away. So we made it our home for all these years.
Bauman: And when you and your wife first came, what sort of housing did you live in first?
Copeland: They were building houses rapidly. The A and B houses, a lot of those were up and people living in them and prefabs, as I mentioned. Our first few months, we were living with Lee Hall and his son, 700 Sanford, in a two-bedroom prefab. And a wife and I got the small bedroom. She was pregnant when we got here. December 7, the Pearl Harbor Day, but in 1947, our first daughter was born and there was pretty cramped conditions with the baby beside the bed and then a two-bedroom prefab, well, the crying at night. She had not gotten used to sleeping at night. But Lee Hall said he had one bad ear. He says, put her out in the living room and let her cry out there. I'll just turn my good ear down and I won't hear her. So we did and the crying session and nothing happened from it. Finally got the message to Diane that she was supposed to sleep at night, so that was nice. And Lee Hall was so glad to have a woman in the house to do cooking and do furniture. She did curtains and changing paint and putting a woman's touch on the house like women can do that men don't have any idea about. Well, she did that and he was very pleased to have us with us, but they were building the pre-cut houses. And we get in along about in the '48, it was probably in March or April, the pre-cut houses were ready to be occupied. We moved to a two-bedroom pre-cut. Lee Hall was most depressed and dejected because we were leaving and taking all his good drapes away. So we lived at 700 Sanford for several years until about, I think it was 1973, our second child was born. So on the housing list, we were eligible for a bigger house, a three bedroom. We were in a two bedroom. It so happened I was working with the engineer, Verne Hill was his name. And he lived out on Atkins. And he said, they had a housing list. Big board behind the glass, a housing list was posted. You'd go down and apply for housing that became available. Verne told me his next door neighbor was moving, so I applied for that house before it was posted, see? So I was first on the list of eligibility for the house and we got the house at 209 Atkins because of Verne. And it—they were well-built houses, number one grade lumber, and it's been a very durable and good place to live over the years.
Bauman: Where was this housing list that you mentioned? Where was that?
Copeland: They had sort of a housing department located in the vicinity, very close to where the Richland Police Department is, across the street from the Federal Building would be. But they would post this housing list and people that were eligible to move would go in and apply.
Bauman: And how would you describe the town of Richland at the time in the late '40s and early '50s? What kind of place was it to live?
Copeland: Very safe place. Good schools. Good housing. No crime. Everybody that worked at Hanford had had their background checks. They wouldn't hire any criminals or background violators. So we could leave our cars unlocked, we could leave our doors unlocked, and it was a very safe place. The main thing was security for the plant. The plant operation security was very, very strict then, but living conditions were very good. They had 700—420 Wright Street. We rented the house. $38 a month. It's a two-bedroom pre-cut called a U house. And the electricity was furnished, the water, the sewer. They even give you grass seed to plant your lawn, and if you had some maintenance to be done in the house, call them up and they'd come and fix it. The wind blew a lot. There were no ranch houses at that time. And the wind came—they started building the ranch houses. The soil was all very fluffy and stirred up and we would get one of those terminator winds as they were called, the way they would blow dirt into our yard. And there was a terminator wind and there was probably three to four inches of sand blew into our front yard. The way they took care of it was the fire department came out with their tanker trucks and hoses and hosed this off of our lawns. They also learned, they gave you the plant seed, but they only gave you enough seed for just about one quarter of your lawn at a time. When you get it going, then they give you seed for the next section. Trying to water it and keep it growing, the whole thing they learned, was too much for the residents. So it was a very safe, good place to live.
Bauman: Do you remember any community events, any special events sort of things in the community during that time?
Copeland: Community events, the one that comes to mind, there were probably some but I can't think of was the boat races. And it was called the Atomic Cup, which nowadays is not politically correct. They call it the Columbia River, then it was the Atomic Cup for several years. And it used to be a nice place to go and watch the boats, but recent years, they're so crowded and unruly people that I don't have any reason to go down there. [LAUGHTER]
Bauman: Let's talk about your work in Hanford then. What was the first job that you had when you first came to Hanford in 1947?
Copeland: Well, my degree is in mechanical engineering and that's what I was doing in Denver with the Bureau of Reclamation. They came out here and I had an engineering job in the--I think they call it the 1100 Building. It was a single story Army barracks type of building. It was in the location of, I would say where the parking lot is now on the lower side of the Federal Building. That was its location. And so I worked there until I got my Q clearance and then I was sent to 200 Area after I got the clearance. After I got to the 200 Area, they were in search of instrument engineers. No college courses taught instrumentation. The one up in Yakima was teaching good technicians and the one up at Milwaukee had good technicians, but no engineering. Well, I'd been in the Navy and my training in the Navy was with electronics gear: radio, transmitter, receiver, sonar, LORAN, and there might have been something else. So I had a lot of this electronic training and I had one semester of electrical engineering at Colorado State. So I transferred over to instrument engineering and shortly after I got to the 200 Area and followed that through all my time there as an instrument engineer.
Bauman: So what sorts of duties did you have then? What sorts of things might you do on a typical work day?
Copeland: Well, I would work with the instrument technicians, help them with their work. If they needed new parts, I would go write purchase orders. If some of the instruments were getting old and wearing out and needed total replacement, I would write orders for those and oversee the installation and help the craftsmen, the instrument techs with calibration. There's one funny story that I just can't forget. Most of my work, some, not all, but most of my works in the 184 steam power plants, which provided the steam for emergency use during outages. And this took place at the N Reactor, at the 184. And he was an instrument specialist. And he was the--what do you call them? The steward. He was the instrument steward for their craft, Jay Lettingham. And we'd gotten all these new Foxborough DP cells in that we were installing to replace some other instruments that were obsolete. There's a much, much better system and we were in this little instrument shop in the 184 Building and I was reading the manual and he was trying to turn the screws and nuts to get it calibrated. And he tried and it didn't work and he tried and it didn't work. And then what he did, well, he said, here, you take these tools. And so I did it and showed him how to do it. He being a steward, see, I wasn't supposed to pick up a tool or touch one, but he had me do it. [LAUGHTER] I thought that was a real amusing situation, but we got along. We worked as a team.
Bauman: Mm-hm. And how long did you work at the N Reactor then?
Copeland: Well, N reactor from about 19--probably '66 to '87. I retired in 1987. But my first work was assigned in the 200 Areas. And I was fortunate. One day, I got in on the startup of the 234-5, which they now call the Plutonium Finishing Plant, but in those days you're probably aware that they named the plants and the facilities in a name that did not relate at all to what they did. See? Plutonium Finishing Plant would have been giving away a secret, so it was 234-5. Everybody referred to it as the Dash-5 Building. I was there on the construction and startup of 234-5, mainly working on heating and ventilation. Had three big air supply filters and washers and fans for the building and it was a real tough ventilation because there were three separate pressure zones. The office zones were the higher pressure and then there was an intermediate zone. And the zone where the hoods and the work was done was the lowest pressure so that all contamination wouldn't flow from the work area to the shops and clean areas. And it was very difficult to get those pressures to be stable and maintained. I got in on the construction and startup of REDOX plant. And then I also got in on the construction and startup of PUREX. Now, part of the PUREX work, I had an office under Webster in the 3000 Area, North Richland, where we were working on design work and approving drawings and specifying the type of instruments to be procured. Then I got to go out to the field and saw them being installed. And I worked for Copeland, R. W. Copeland. That was a coincidence. No relation that I know of, but he was a good guy to work for. He was, I think, Blaw-Knox Construction, if I remember right, that he was in charge of all the construction there. So I got well acquainted with a lot of welders and pipe fitters and electricians, and everybody worked together. It was a very cooperative effort in those days.
Bauman: Your first job was with GE, right?
Copeland: General Electric, yes.
Bauman: And then what other contractors did you work with?
Copeland: Well, it was, I think about 1964. GE's contract was running out. They chose not to want to extend it and so United Nuclear came in and took over the contract for the 100 Areas and I think Westinghouse had a contract. There were several contractors for the 200 Area, so Uniroyal and couple others. I don't remember the name, but anyway, United Nuclear took over the 100 Area, so I worked for them and retired for them. And the plant was down in 19--I got my neat belt buckle. 20 years, 1964 to 1984. So the plant went down in 1984, but I retired in 1987. The neat thing I remember doing there, our maintenance work could only be done when the reactor was down. The reactor running was producing plutonium and steam for the steam plant. That was a money earner, so the downtime was kept at a minimum. When it went down for good and we thought that it was always going to restart, we went in and replaced a lot of tubing and instruments, valves with upgraded material, upgraded design. And we thought—I believe that that plant was in better condition, had better equipment than when it first started up and we always had that hope that—we didn't have any doubt at that time--that it was going to start up again and that all this good stuff in it was really going to run good. But then because of the Chernobyl incident, the politicians shut it down. It didn't make a scientific and engineering gradual shut down, which would have saved a lot of money in handling nuclear fuel and processing it. But they shut her down because of Chernobyl. And I'm not a real good nuclear physicist, but they think it's a two factor or an n factor. You'd have to talk to a nuclear person. But it was designed in this N Reactor so that it would not run away and meld itself like the Chernobyl plant did. It was impossible, but the politicians didn't know that.
Bauman: Obviously, security, secrecy were a big part of the Hanford site. Can you talk at all about how that part of it impacted your work at all in any way or any interesting stories about security?
Copeland: Yeah. Some of the security men would hang out in restaurants or bars. I never experienced this or saw it happen, but I've heard about it. And if the customers in there talked anything between themselves or anyone else about anything, the work they were doing or what was going on out there, they were out the door. And most people knew that and obeyed it very, very strictly. For a long time, my wife and my daughter, see, they didn't know what I did out there. I couldn't tell them. I'd go to work in the morning and come back in the evening and ride the bus. So it was that tight. And another funny story, the kids in school were talking about what does your daddy do out there? Of course, they didn't know. And they'd say, my daddy is making toilet paper. He brings it home and his lunchbox. [LAUGHTER] It was one of the answers that the kid that didn't know what's going on was doing because, I guess toilet paper at the times was not readily available, but there was still always lots of it out at the plant.
Bauman: JFK, President Kennedy came to visit.
Copeland: What's that?
Bauman: President Kennedy came in 1963--
Copeland: Yes.
Bauman: --to dedicate the N Reactor [INAUDIBLE] came. What are your memories of that day?
Copeland: He dedicated the reactor. Well, I was working that day and didn't see it, but my wife and daughter went out and got to watch Kennedy designate. He moved the radioactive wand over the receiver and the motorized shovel, big, earth-moving shovel, scooped the first scoop of dirt out there, so the way I heard about it, he started it up.
Bauman: Okay. Were there any events that sort of stand out in mind from the years working? Any unusual happenings or strange occurrences, sort of, when you were working out at Hanford at that time, or funny stories?
Copeland: Yeah, I think of one that was very amusing. The instrument techs who I worked with, all of them were a bunch of good guys. They would play jokes. They had subtle humor and played jokes on people, harmless type of things, nothing to harm. This occurred in the 221-T, the separations building in the 200 Area, 200 West. And I'd often go over there early in the day, see the instrument foreman, what he was going to assign to the technicians and what was going on, what was to be done that day so that if it involved something that I needed to know, I would be there to hear about it. And one time, we had these ring balance instruments, we called them pen draggers. They had little pens. They would make a mark on a round chart, a moving chart and they were a very small pen with ink in them and made a very small line. And we were having this, I guess, a safety meeting was finished and we were talking to this--they had a secretary. The instrument foreman had a secretary. I think she was Eleanor, but I'm not sure. Well, one of the guys rigged up one of these ink pens, held it about waist height and he had a squeeze bulb with water in it and he squeezed it right at Eleanor. So she became all wet on her front side there and everyone was smiling and giggling and she didn't know what was going on until she looked. [LAUGHTER] You couldn't see the stream it was so fine, see? It was a fine stream. I thought that was funny! Another one in the same building, at quitting time, the guys that have their lunch buckets set on the workbench and when the bell rang, it was time to go rush out and get on the bus and go home. So this one guy, he was especially quick at grabbing his bucket and getting out so he could get a seat on the bus that he wanted. Well, we had a lot of lead bricks. They're the same size as red bricks that we have. This was a lead brick. They put it in his lunch bucket and he came along and grabbed this lunch bucket and all he got was the handle on the top part. [LAUGHTER] That was a funny one.
Bauman: I wonder what you see as were some of the more challenging aspects of working at Hanford were and what were some of the most rewarding parts about working at Hanford?
Copeland: Challenging and rewarding. Well, the challenging, and to a certain respect of keeping the secrecy of the plant, one of the challenging things was the dust storms called the terminators. And the rewarding thing, I think, was the men that I got to work with. They were all good guys, cooperative, pulling together. There was no territorial protection. If somebody knew something that the other guy didn't know, he would share it. That was very rewarding to me. There were different technical problems that I was faced with during the time, which we were able to take care of and never had any bad accidents.
Bauman: And you were there for 40 years--
Copeland: Yes.
Bauman: I imagine you must have seen some changes take place.
Copeland: Many.
Bauman: Either technological changes, or instruments. I wonder if there were any changes that you saw that you thought were important?
Copeland: Yeah, there were a lot of changes. The older instruments in the power houses were--can't remember them. But they ran on a five to 25 psi signal. Then we got these newer Foxborough instruments and then they were three to 15 psi. And before I left, they were going to forward a 20 milliamp electrical instruments and controls. And the computer age was just getting started when I retired. And they would allow computer measurements—I was in the 100 Areas by then, of course—instruments, they would measure pressure temperature and position, could be done with computers, but the control the people had, the men, the operators had to maintain control. They allowed no computer control of the reactor. That was a limit at that time, but that's gotten past that, present day. But we had computer programs on the old IBM cards, punch cards, that punched the little square holes, and there was a giant computer in the basement of the Federal Building. There was a Boeing computer facility and all the cards went down there to be processed and problems and answers, solutions work out from that. That was just the beginning of that age that I just got in on the start of it, but not anymore.
Bauman: The site, of course, at some point, shifted from focus on production to focus on cleanup. I wonder if that shift impacted your work at all, the sorts of things you did?
Copeland: Yeah. Well, to back up a little bit more, at one time, we had nine reactors up and down the river operating. And N Reactor was a first one in the country and maybe in the world that produced power. It was one of the first power reactors, of which there are quite a few of them now. So that was a neat thing, but--give me your question again.
Bauman: Oh, I was asking about the shift from production to cleanup.
Copeland: To cleanup. I got in on a little of that before I started working at N reactor, the other BDF and DNDR were all being shut down and I worked for Wind Chimer, WW Wind Chimer. We were on--I was probably for about a year--helping with some of the cleanup on that and our motto, our mission was, drain and dry the piping and store the mercury. That was our mission that we were doing. The other groups were doing other things, but I know that we were tending to that for the shutdown. And at that time, it was shut down, not that we were not involved in the cleanup yet.
Bauman: But the shutting down of some of the reactors.
Copeland: Mm-hm.
Bauman: I wonder if you could—so in a sense, overall your experience working at Hanford for those 40 years--
Copeland: What about the overall?
Bauman: Yeah, what's your overall assessment of your 40 years working at Hanford? What are your thoughts about--
Copeland: Oh, very proud. Very positive. I'm proud that I was able to work out there and support the Cold War effort. My first job out of college was with Fairbanks Morse, Beloit, Wisconsin where they made the diesel engines for the submarines, the OP, opposed piston engine. So I got to help with the war effort. Then I got the letter from my draft board that said, greetings, you are a selected volunteer, so that's when I got into the Navy. So I got into the Navy parts and then, as I told you I didn't have to get shot at, but I was working during the war time, then out here for the Cold War. So I had those three parts of my life, I think, contributing to the growth and the safety of our nation.
Bauman: I want to ask you about your running.
Copeland: Oh, yes.
Bauman: At some point, you got involved in running. When was that, and how did that get started?
Copeland: Elijah Galloway. Dear, dear friend who’s gone now. He was the Brown Shoe Air Force, that's the Army Air Corps. Before the Air Force—the present day Air Force was formed, the Air Corps was a part of the Army. He said I was part of the Brown Shoe Air Corps. So he flew missions and did things, but one of the jobs where he got started running was CIA, Russia. Both he and his wife got trained. They had probably most of a year of training in Russian and how to conduct themselves as observers, but really getting spy information, but they were just called observers over in Russia. And then he participated in all the Russian parties. They had lots of caviar and vodka and pretty soon he was overweight. And his doctor, when he went to Germany for a checkup or leave, he said, you need to lose weight. So he encouraged him to start a running program, which he did. And he lost weight and he lost weight and whenever he would go out on one of these surveillance programs, he'd just go out walking, then he got to running. He'd count the number of insulators on the power pool, just simple stuff that he could observe while he was out, then there was always a Russian counterpart that was with him and following him. He was a runner. And pretty soon, Elijah got so good he could run out and leave this guy. [LAUGHTER] And so one time, the story he told me, he went out for his run with his counterpart, Russian guy, and he finished his run and then he told the Russian guy, well, let's go out and run your course. Now, I want to run your course. He was too tired to do it. [LAUGHTER] He was a specialist on antennas, jamming and communication, that was his specialty in his work. He had an electrical engineering degree and antennas was his thing. And so he was involved in a lot of that communication and jamming for the US over there. The one amusing thing that was taught to his wife. The Russians would have a big parade. They would have these big wheel movers with the missiles on them and they'd have a big parade celebrating how great we are. And Elijah and his wife, Beryl, would have their trench coats on and have their Leica cameras down at waist high, just barely pointing out between the buttons. And they would take pictures and just the time they'd click, they'd go, [COUGH]. And there were always Russians around spying on them. If they heard a camera click, well, then bad news for them. But they could cover this up with [COUGH]. Just cover it up the click of the camera. That was one of the neat stories that he told me. But from his experience with losing weight, he retired and his home was in San Antonio, Texas. And he couldn't stand being retired. And he'd gone to school with Paul Venter, a name that I mentioned. I think it was probably at Whitworth. I'm not positive, but he knew Paul and he kept in touch over the years and Elijah didn't like being retired and he had this electrical degree and Paul says, why don't you come up to Hanford? There's some jobs here. Elijah came up here, got a job. He was my office partner and I think I already told you part of it, that he and Jerry and I, in my office one day, Elijah said, let's go out on our noon break and go for a little run. Because it had meant so much to him and he felt so much better getting down to a trim weight that he wanted to influence other people to enjoy that same feeling and the euphoria—the endorphins get into your body when you're running to where you just feel like you're just going and can go forever. Of course, you can't, but you have that wonderful, elevated feeling. He wanted to share that with everybody and I wanted to share it with other people too that I have run across in my running years. So that was Elijah. It was about 1972 that this happened and I started running and within a year later, I ran my first marathon. He coached me on how to train for a marathon. It feels good, but don't keep going further than, you know, increasing not more than 10% or a few miles each day. Hold a very strict schedule of gradual training and conditioning. Because if you do try and get too much, you get injured, disappointed, then you quit running. That has happened, so one thing that he taught me and another people. And so we ran the old Cheney Marathon up at Cheney, Washington. And that Cheney Marathon only lasted, I think, about three years and they discontinued it. But the neat thing, I still hold the first place for 50 age division at the Cheney Marathon. No one came along later and beat my record because the marathon was stopped. [LAUGHTER] A lot of other marathons, why, someone else comes along when they turn 60 and they beat my record. That's how I got started running and I'm a advocate of—if not running, I swim or bike or kayak, whatever suits your fancy, whatever you feel good doing, do it, but keep doing something.
Bauman: Sounds like you were running pretty regularly at your last time period working at Hanford.
Copeland: Pretty regular. My routine for many years was up at 4:30. Do my toileting, strap on my shorts and shoes, out the door at 5:00. I'd run 7 miles in an hour and I was back to the house and Evelyn would have breakfast. I'd quick shower and get breakfast and then I'd catch the bus at 6:30, about a two-block walk from my house, catching the bus. That was my routine, seven miles every weekday morning and then six miles at noon with the guys at N Reactor. So I got 13 miles a day, weekdays. Saturday was the long run day. Do 20 or 22 miles. You have to have some long distance training to train your body to learn to burn fat when you run out of glycogen. And the person I did that most with was my dear Chinese running friend, Yao Ming Chein. “Chee-in.” We would meet Saturday and run our 20 to 22 miles. Sunday was a rest day, so I'd ride my bike about 15 miles. That's a different exercise. It rested your running muscles. But Chein, I remember, he would, at one of our wedding anniversary parties, Yao Ming and is wife were there and I was introducing him and he says, Chein, E before I. He says I before E and everything except Chein, C-H-E-I-N. It wasn't C-H-I-N as Chin, but he was Chein. That made a difference to him. So he's still around. He lives over in Bellevue. I talk to him every once in a while. We formed a—a lot of marathoners, you form a bonding, a marathon bonding with these people that you run 26 miles with and you look for them and wonder how they are and if they're not at the next marathon, you wonder if they're ill or accident or anything happened. It's a bond that, it's hard to describe, but it's there.
Bauman: Is there any things that I haven't asked you about in terms of your working at Hanford that you think is important to talk about and would like to talk about that you haven't talked about so far?
Copeland: There's one more funny that I didn't include. We were working at the PUREX plant, 200 East. And this instrument specialist, Web Madison was his name, he--to back up a bit, they needed instrument technicians that could find work and work on instruments. So they were looking for watchmakers, all search the country. Watchmakers would qualify. They knew how to do fine, delicate work. Well, there were a lot of watchmakers out there because there was no training for them early on except, later they had the Yakima, forget the name of it, instrument school and the one in Milwaukee. But Web had tooth problem, teeth all decayed. So he had upper and lower plates, all new plates. Had them built by the dentist, you know, nice. And then the one thing that I'm leading up to, if an instrument needed a part and you couldn't buy it, they could make it and they could build parts that were broken and replace them, they were so good. So Web got his new teeth and he looked at them real close. He built himself a set of stainless steel teeth, a whole set of stainless steel teeth. And one night when he come off shift and through the badge house, the guard always looked at you and looked at your badge and he'd know who you are and he knew who he was. They checked him out. But he flashed those stainless steel teeth at the guard and the guard just about fell over. It was a riot. [LAUGHTER] Another thing they did, they were practical jokers. Another thing they did there to the going off shift, I didn't observe this, but I heard about it. An instrument tech, they were getting ready to go off shift and they called up at the badge house and said, we're going to flush the phone lines. And we want you to unhook your phone, take your phone off and just hold it while we flush the lines. And so he did that and they took some air nozzle and made some noises. It sounded like flushing noises. And then he went up to check out to catch the bus and they really ribbed that guard. What in the world are you doing on the phone. Oh, they had him put it in the basket. They had him put it in the wastebasket. What are you doing in the wastebasket? Practical jokes like that. There are so many of them that—so, good to think about.
Bauman: Yeah. Well, I want to thank you for coming in today and sharing your stories and experiences. I appreciate it.
Copeland: It was my pleasure. I am hopeful and I'm sure that what you're doing will be very educational and important to your students over the coming years. So I want to thank you for doing this work.
Bauman: Well, I'm glad to be a part of it. Thanks again.
Copeland: Mm-hm.
Northwest Public Television | Cheyney_Ed
Laura Arata: Plus, if you make him mad, he's got a cane now he can smack you with.
Ed Cheyney: Well I got one I’m not doing with.
Arata: Nice.
Man: I guess it just--
Arata: That would be our first on camera cane dueling.
Cheyney: Right. [LAUGHTER]
Man: Okay, whenever you're ready.
Arata: Okay, we’re ready to go. All right. So if we could start out by having you say your name, and then spell it for us?
Cheyney: Sure. My name is Edwin Cheyney. C-H-E-Y-N-E-Y. It's also been pronounced chee-nee, with the extra Y in it. I was corrected many years ago that you're pronouncing it wrong. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: Really? So you learned about it, too?
Cheyney: I said, I didn't care, as long as it didn't get any worse.
Arata: Fair enough. My name's Laura Arata. Today is November 12, 2013, and we're conducting this interview on the campus of Washington State University, Tri-Cities. So I wonder if we could start off by just having you tell me a little bit about when you came to Hanford, and what that first experience of coming to Hanford was like, and why you initially came here.
Cheyney: Okay, well, first of all, at that time, I was going to Spokane Technical and Vocational School, which is now Spokane Community College. And basically, the only way you could get out of class time is to go interview. Well, I was on—it’s three and a half years, and so, I was on the, actually, the last few months of my course. And this guy says, hey, let's get a carpool going, and go down to Hanford. Well, where's that? And he says, well, they're looking for employees. I think it was 13 at that time, for a special program with General Electric. So we get down there, and the first thing, and we got here early, at seven o'clock promptly. We were all escorted back into a room that had separate booths, and we were given time tests from seven o'clock till 12 noon. We were tested on about every kind of conceivable test that I could imagine, but it all related to my field of electronics and instrumentation. So anyway, it was about two weeks later. The ones that were in the carpool with me said they already got their rejection notice. And my teacher--I wasn't one of his favorite ones--and he just says, came to me, and says, well, you'll get yours. And I said, well, I'm sure I will. A month later, I get a call from my grandmother. I was living in Spokane and taking care of two of her apartment houses. And she says, you've got a registered letter. So I went to my teacher, and I said, I need to take my grandmother to the bank. He said, I've never heard of that one before. [LAUGHTER] So he let me go, and I got there, and I had a registered letter from General Electric. I really got excited. And it says, offered me a job. And I went back to the school. I plopped it down to the teacher, and says, well, there, I got my letter. He says, so what? And just turned his head. So, well, that's fine. At least I got proof. And I went to my two other instructors from previous years. They stopped everything. He said, look it. He's the only one out of the whole school's that's been offered a job down in Hanford. I still didn't know what I was getting into. [LAUGHTER] But I figured it was worth it. And we had to agree to the fact to go to three and half years more to CBC to special programs that GE selected. And that was no problem either. And then we worked only an eight hour shift, except on weekends, we could work overtime if that case came up. So basically, that's how I got in the front door. And it's sort of interesting that when I first came down here, my mother wanted to make sure that I got in a decent environment because I'd never cooked or anything. And so, GE, they'd recommended the best place where most go is the Statler Hotel. Well, I thought, well, let's go there. Well, we went in there, and my mother, of course, with me. When she saw the three gals there wearing mini-skirts and the whole thing, she almost ripped my arm off, says this isn't the place for you. I didn't see any problem with it, but she immediately took me up to the parish house, and says, is there somewhere decent that I could live? And she introduced us to this woman that was very motherly, very heavy set, very good cook. And said she'd board and room me. Well, of course, I got out on the project. There was lots and lots of indoctrinations that this is classified work, and you're not to discuss anything whatsoever. And the home then I was staying in, her husband was one of the managers out at D Reactor. And so first thing, he asked me, he says, what do you do out there? I says, I just work out there. He says, I know you can't describe anything, but he says, you can at least say your title. You're not getting yourself in trouble with that. I says, well, are you sure? He says, I wouldn't put you on the spot. And I says, I'm an instrument and control technician. And so, he didn't push me any further. And the one thing, before I left the neighborhood of Spokane, the FBI was checking up on me. And I had neighbors say, what kind of trouble are you in anyway? And I says, what do you mean trouble? And they says, the FBI was out checking on you. And I go, that's great. He says, what's great about it? I says, I think they're interested in me. [LAUGHTER] So that's basically how I got in the front door. And I started in the 300 Area, basically the canning lines. And with GE, you were only in a spot roughly three months to six months, and they rotated you because they wanted you to get the full feel of the different expectations that they had of you, and the way you could handle your so-called position, as far as instrument control calibration of all kinds of instrumentation, which, to me, I found really exciting because it was a new challenge. There was never, seemed like there was never a day that it wasn't something different. And I like that. And the challenges were quite different. And riding that bus for a nickel a day. You couldn't afford to drive anywhere. The only thing is, those buses didn't have air conditioning or anything. And when it started, when they moved me to the K Reactor--first it was B, C Reactors. When you had 100 degree weather, it was no fun after a shift, getting on the bus about 4 o'clock. It's good and hot and everything. About all you could do is just sit there and bear it. I usually just closed my eyes, and just figured, well, I'll get home pretty quick. And I just figured, well, it's good for a common cause. Also at that time, the salary was real good for someone that was just out of a tech school. My dad had a master's degree, was teaching five solid subjects, and the superintendent of schools at Hogan, Montana. And the first year, because I was living with the landlady's, their home, she also made use of me, and took me to grocery stores to help her carry stuff. And she took me to Zale’s and talked me into buying a men's diamond ring, which that's the last thing in the world I was really interested in, but I got talked into it. Well, I go up to see my dad, and he sees that. And he says, is that real? And I says, of course, it's real. But I says, it was stupid that I bought it. And I took it off, and said, you can have it. And he said, well, what kind of money are you making? At that point in time, I had made a little over $2,500 more than he'd made. And that really changed his whole attitude about tech school because when I graduated from school, I had to be in his classes, and I took lots of insults. And when he asked me when I graduated, what are you going to do? I says, I'm not sure yet. And then, when I told him I was going to tech school, he says, you just will be a grease monkey. Well, that changed his whole attitude, that maybe--He says, I just can't see why and how they can pay you that kind of money. I says, Dad, they pay you for what you can do with your hands, too. And from then on, he had a whole different feel about it. So that's getting off of what I was doing in Hanford. But going to the different sites, like I said, the challenges were always different. And I think the thing that really impressed me the most is the feeling of the power and energy that was going on. And especially when I was given the tour to go, first, up to the water treatment plant. That was massive enough. I was told could easily take care of the whole city of Los Angeles. And they showed me a wet well, and in it was all these lights with no insulation or anything. And they're on. I says, how come they don't short out? He says, in pure water, there's no conduction. And the mass of water that was going down through the pumps, and through the reactor core itself, the ground just vibrated. I'd say it was at least a good two city blocks, if not longer. You just feel the rumbling. And it's just a massive power. And you go in the reactor area, you just hear all this rushed water. Another thing that was impressive, you look outdoors at this big million gallon tanks of boiling water coming right off the reactor. It could be 100 degrees outdoors, and it had a 200 foot plume at least. And it really made me think, especially in later years when you start realizing what all is going on. It was a graphite core reactor, the same kind of reactor that Chernobyl had. They were foolish in what they were doing. They weren't using nuclear engineers or physicists, and doing all kinds of dangerous experiments. But they reminded me that when I went in to watch, and a lot of times we referred to it, we're controlling a nuclear bomb. And when the operations, especially at operations, they start pulling rods, waiting for things to go critical, it got real exciting, real quiet. And they had two to three guys watching everything, all the instrumentation to see when things were starting to go critical. And it just really amazed me how smart they were, and how careful they were in their operations. And at the same token, it made you well aware that we're really controlling something really massive. And later, roughly, I'd say about every six months or so, they rotated you. They moved me to the K Reactors. Now those were the two world's largest producing plutonium reactors. And that was even more exciting. And of course, a whole lot bigger, and a whole lot more things going on. And eventually, I don't know if it was because of my interest, or my attitude or what, they gave me the opportunity to go into the irradiation testing group, which was a whole lot more involvement. And that was going into, I won't go into a whole lot of detail. They were putting, I'll say samples, into the core of the reactor during operation for different tests for Atomic International, NASA, and there was a few others. But they had a lot of instrumentation, monitoring, and analyzing what's going on. Of course, because being rotated around, actually, what happened then was I just became journeyman, and General Electric announced that they're phasing out. That was a real scary thing for the simple fact they were laying off thousands of people, not hundreds. And being that I was on their special training program, they had an agreement with the union, only take a certain percentage of us to lay off. And go off, like, they lay off 2,000 workers, they might take three or four of us. But when it got down to the last two weeks at General Electric, I was down into the last group. Now when they put me on that status, then they immediately transferred me out of the K Reactors down to the canning lines. And that's where they actually had, oh, what do I want to say, molten metal for sealing the canisters for the fuel for the reactor. And so, when you knew when you were down there that you were on your way out--Well, on Friday, the last Friday of the second week of GE, I got my lay-off notice. Well, this probably about does it, but I put in my name. I thought, well, I want to stay nuclear. I put in my name for the nuclear bomb testing down in Nevada. I immediately got results back. We'd like to hire you, and the only thing is, they're offering me basically the same salary, but I had to move myself. And I thought, well, to heck with that. The following Monday, so I got a notice on Friday, the following Monday, my supervisor comes to me, and he says, how would you like to work for Douglas United Nuclear? I says, I'd love to work for Douglas United Nuclear. He says, well, you'd be doing the same thing you're doing. And so, tear up your lay-off notice. So I stayed with Douglas United Nuclear. And not to go into a whole lot of details of the same thing, it wasn't long they announced shutting down more reactors. The handwriting was on the wall. You aren't going to be here very long. And so, I put my name in with Battelle Northwest, and I put my name with KEPR TV station, because at school I had earned a commercial FCC license, so I could go that way. I thought, all right. I'll get out of government. I'll go into this. Well, it was on a Thursday night. I got called by both Battelle and by KEPR. And I said, well, I wanted to—to Battelle, I told them I wanted to just check into this one job first. Well, it turned out real quick that that didn't have anywhere near what to offer that Battelle. So I went to Battelle. It was through Battelle, then, I got into a whole lot more avenues of the nuclear field. And they moved me everywhere where they felt that they wanted me or needed me. I worked--first, they were going to move me out in the areas, or that's what they promised me, and the first day on the job, they put me in the 300 Area again in the fabrications department. Well, Battelle's in everything. And the next thing, I was assigned on an engineer. He basically gave you a schematic, or a drawing, of what he wanted, and you had to from there, get everything you need, put it together, wire it up, test it, and turn it over to the engineer. Well, that was really exciting because it was a whole different challenge, including making your own printed circuit boards, which I'd never done. Basically, it's a photographic process, and I've always been interested in that. And so, it wasn't long—they wanted, the engineering department then wanted me, and moved me down to the sand castle. And of course though, when they have a contract that ends, so does the job. But in the meantime, they had the computer lab at the sand castle for the FFTF mock up. And I guess, my understanding was the first time they ever had analog digital computers working together to simulate FFTF. That went great until Governor Dixy Lee Ray came down and removed that job, that responsibility from Battelle. Well, I got moved out into the 300 Area again, and different labs, and HTLTR, PRTR, and all the different ones. But again, every one of them was exciting. Every one was a different challenge. Well, in the meantime, there's a gentleman that got hurt at home. And he worked out at the 200 Areas, and that was top secret work. And so that required having more checks on me. And then when you were approved, you had a blue tag on your badge. The only thing that I really feel comfortable disclosing was the fact that, again, it was really exciting. The big thing was that they assigned you to specific cells only. And no one had the same cells, and no one was-- basically, I was told because this way, you'll never try to put things together. You just do your job, and mind your own business. And that's fine with me. And then, as soon as this gentleman was able to come back to work, then I was put on with, they asked me if I'd like to work at the weather station. That's out at the 200 Areas also. That, I was to work on the telemetry stations. I thought that's really neat because it had weather stations at a 65 mile radius that I traveled every day, checking stations, and setting them up for monitoring radiation, temperature, wind speed, and et cetera. And the only thing is, it was a great adventure, watching, or being at the different areas. And that's when it came to my light, I didn't realize that during the time I was out in the 100 Areas, I don't know when because I never saw it, that they had Nike missile sites. And where that refreshed my memory is when I was out a K Areas one night, on graveyard shift, and I was with a gentleman. And we were outside, and we had just got through with, they had stack flow monitors to see what kind of effluents are going through, to make sure we're staying within limits. And he says, you know, it was really sort of funny. One night, he wouldn't say who, and I can see why, inflated a big air balloon, a weather balloon, and tied a flashlight to it, and set it up. Well, after it went up so far, next thing, a big—I think two military jets came flying over to see what the heck that was flying in the air. So some people had ways of—no one wanted to be identified on that one because they did have missile sites. I found that one out on my weather stations out at the Wahluke Slopes, but they pretty well destroyed everything. And I thought this was really, really, was pretty well covered and protected. Which thank God it was, but we weren't aware of that stuff. So it was full of excitement. And I never knew what I was going to be stuck with the next day. The only thing is, like with Battelle, and that's while I was doing the weather stations, I was watching--one of the sites I had was right out on the Hanford site, and it was right out there where they were starting up Whoops, and they were digging this massive, massive hole in the ground. And we had to set up a weather station there. And so I got really interested in that, and basically, I thought, you know, I've always wanted to see something like this being built from the ground up. So I put my name in there, and three months later I was hired in, and spent the last 27 and a half years there. But that's basically in a nutshell what I was involved with. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: Sounds like you were involved in a lot of different jobs, and I wonder--you mentioned that you worked at B, C, and K Reactors. So I wonder if you could talk just a little bit about what maybe some of your different jobs there were. Whatever you're comfortable with.
Cheyney: Oh, sure. Well, especially in the B, C Reactor Areas, like I say, while I was going to school, you weren't allowed any overtime. But on weekends, you were. Another interesting thing when you're back home, if they wanted you, like, for a reactor goes down, they call you up, you say yes, they send a person out in a car. They pick you up, and take you out there, and they also bring you back home. Some of those jobs, I actually was out at the plant for two days at a time. But one of them, like in the B, C Reactor, especially now that we can go visit and everything, it brought back the recollection of the reactor had gone down, and they were doing repair of thermocouples. That's temperature measurement. And you had to go to the rear face of that reactor in a wetsuit, and, of course, PCs under that, and go in there, and go behind where those tubes are, pull out this little two conductor wire, and take and cut it, splice it, and basically bond it together, and then solder it there. And here you've got water's dripping from 100 feet up. You're trying to heat this thing up enough to make it bond. And then call the control. Now are they getting an indication? And then, of course, you'd have to re-insert it back down into the well it was in. That was one of the things I'll never forget because it was so dark back there and everything. You did not want to be claustrophobic. You could easily touch the back of the wall with your back, and you'd have the tubes in front of you. Of course, the interesting thing there is before anyone ever goes in there after a shutdown, they discharge all those tubes down into 15 feet of water, and you see all this blue going down there below you. That never bothered me either, other than thank God, it's down 15 feet under water. Well, in the K Reactors--the B Reactor, I just had a lot of general routines of, like in the powerhouse, there's all kinds of instrumentation for controlling those big boilers. Of course, that was coal fired. And the water treatment facilities, measuring the pH of the water, and the chemistry that goes into it. And then K Reactors, I got to go in. Now they were putting in the high speed scanning system for measuring temperature. And instead of using thermocouples, they used RTDs. And they were going into, I think it was about the second year I was at K Reactors, that again, they shut down to replace all those. Well, again, I get called, I come out there. It's at midnight. I'm well over 100 feet up in the air running these thermal bulbs down through in between the tubes while there's another guy riding the elevator down to the point of what tube it was to be installed into. And it was sort of relaxing up there. It was interesting, but it just seemed like forever. Another incident—of course, as soon as you finish your college requirements that they put on, I was immediately put on D shift. And it just--I didn't like shift because it was one day a week, swings, days, and graveyards on a continuous cycle. I was with the technician this one day. We were up in full operation at this point in time, but they were wanting to check—they were having problems. And so, he and I were assigned to go into the control room. They had—I won't give the exact number; I'll say there was well over 3,000 pressure gauges called panel gauges. They're monitoring the pressure of the water of the tube itself, and that's 3,000 plus. And this panel, you're in the control room, you hear all this click, click, click, click. And they're all moving. If anything, if any one of them goes over pressure or under pressure, immediately, it dumps that whole complete plant. Everything comes through a massive—you hear lots of equipment slamming shut, and the control rods drop. Well, anyway, I guess I was still considered a trainee at that time. We had to change out one of those little pressure gauges. Behind the panel, it's all full of tubing and wiring. They're all in series with each other, so that means if any one's interrupted, it dumps everything. So to get around that, to replace a gauge, you had to take, you had jumpers. So you put a jumper, and you jumper off that gauge. And then when you're all ready to try to dismantle, and pull it out and put another one, you pull the jumpers out of it. Well, the gentleman that was taking me through this, showing me and telling me how careful, as soon as he pulled the one jumper, boom. The plant went down. [LAUGHTER] Oh no. I don't know what color I turned, but I know that he says, oh no. He went out, he says, we did it, we did it. They says, hold on. They had to check it. And it turned out it was something else, but it happened at the same time that we pulled that jumper. So there was times that it made you plenty nervous because you don't make anyone happy if you dump the plant. You don't get fired, but the embarrassment of it—you try to take a lot more pride in it than that. And so, that's basically, sort of in a nutshell the B, C Reactors. It's really interesting to go out there and look at it now. I certainly encourage anyone that has the opportunity. It brings back a lot of memories. The biggest thing I remember is you go in the control room there, the first one that they let off. You go in the control room there, it looks like a little dinky space. It didn't seem that dinky to me then. But if you go into the K Reactors, it looks like a gymnasium compared to that, as far as the size of the control room and the equipment that was there. So a lot to compare it with, but the things that just always impressed me was you could feel from the tremor of the grounds and everything, that there was massive power. And it had to be to generate that much heat, and have that much steam coming out of those millions of gallons—I don't know exactly what. The only thing that disturbed me, and I questioned it at the time, riding the bus, going past the 200 East Area, a lot of times, the winds would bring down that brownish plume. And it'd come right in the bus, and your nose would burn. And I'd say, isn't that bad for you? Why is it on a big stack, and it's coming down here? Oh, nothing to worry about. Well, thank God, I don't think I ever got anything from it. There was a lot of things that went on that you could question, but you probably wouldn't get much for an answer. In fact, when I—I get bounced around on things—when I was doing the weather system for them, in the winter time, we were given snowmobiles because we did Rattlesnake Mountain, and the whole bit. And so they had their own trailer with the snowmobiles. Well, I had to go into the Two West Area, and immediately, this one guard, he must have been new. He says, pull over there, and don't go anywhere. Well, this is new. And he comes up, he says, sir, I hate to tell you this, but you can't be bringing your recreational vehicles in here. I said, sir, would you mind reading what's on those snowmobiles, and read what's on the trailer? It says property of the Atomic Energy Commission. He looks at it. He thought it was crazy. He says, well, I'm sorry. [LAUGHTER] So you're all the time being tested. But in general, I always considered it probably one of the greatest experiences. I'm really thankful to the good Lord that I worked 44 and a half years. I'm not trying to brag, but I was never unemployed. They kept me plenty busy.
Arata: It sounds like it. It sounds like you had many different jobs.
Cheyney: Well, with instrumentation and monitoring everything under the sun, temperature, pressure, level, et cetera. Even one, that reminded me—not to go on and on and on—but in the 300 Area, while I was down there, they sent me to the so-called bursting facilities. And I thought, now what the heck's that? Well, we'll find out. And I go there, and they had these different cells, and they had high pressure systems. And they take different materials of piping, and they hook up all these apparatuses on both ends. And they put it in a cell, and put on all kinds of monitoring equipment to test pressure, temperature, et cetera. And what they do, when they get ready to test, you get out of there, you go back in the control room, and they run up until that pipe virtually breaks open. And again, for studies. But they had a lot of studies going on before they ever used a lot of material. So it was, like I say, always exciting. I enjoyed it, but you never knew what you were going to be assigned with. And it seemed like they didn't mind sending me around.
Arata: Sounds like it. I wonder if I could have you talk just a little bit about starting in the '60s, and then having this great 44-year career unhampered. Certainly, the technology changed a great deal in that time. Could you talk a little bit about what sorts of technology changes you encountered working there?
Cheyney: Well, sure. It's sort of interesting. When they first put me out in the 300 Area, of course, I was assigned with different technicians almost every day. And anyway, this one technician—and you've could sense when right off the bat, well, you're a fresh one from out of school, so you probably don't know much or anything. And I was given this elderly gentleman, and he takes me to his own little shop area he had. As a matter of fact, it happened to be where the bursting facilities was, and he says, what do you know about recorders? I says, well, I was thinking of electronic recorders, a magnetic tape type recorder. I says, well, if you're talking about magnetic tape recorders, I says, I think I know quite a bit about them. What do you got? He says, well, what do you know about recorders? What do you know about L&N recorder? And I says, not a thing! Can you show me what you're talking about? He brings out this great, big, heavy, old chunk of iron. It's an L&N recorder. It has a galvanometer movement in it. I knew what that was. But I thought, what do you with that piece of junk? I'd use it for a boat anchor. [LAUGHTER] But I didn't say that because I knew it would disrupt him a lot. He says, do you know how to calibrate—or wind your own resistors for the bridge that it requires for it? I says, no. You give me a formula, and I'll work it out. He said, great. So he gives me what values he wanted. Okay. So then he hands me this spool and this wire. He says, all right, make your own resistor. I said, what is this? [LAUGHTER] He says, you've got to make your own resistor. So I kept going down on wire until I got exactly the resistance, cut it off, then I had to treat it and the whole thing. I just followed along with him. And I make these several spools of resistors, and put it in. And then he had me taking, apply a signal to see where the galvanometer would move, and the whole thing. I thought, now just how antiquated can this get? [LAUGHTER] He didn't like it too well or anything, but I thought, I could learn something from everybody. And it was really interesting because as I got out into the K Reactors, well, now they had all, at this time--that time--they had vacuum tube amplifiers. And yes, they had their own bridge circuits and stuff, but you didn't go winding your own resistors or anything. In fact, it all came from the factory pre-certified and et cetera. And so, I saw a big change there in the counting type equipment, and the measuring of temperature. Things changed tremendously. Now in the pneumatic end, that's air-driven instruments, which I never really was fond of. I liked electronics. It was a lot faster. Air-driven, even though that is very accurate for monitoring pressure, and the whole thing, is very slow. You make a move. You wait. Electronics, it's right there. And that was a big change I've seen. And of course, as they got—especially like that K Reactor—so much more massive and everything, they had to be a lot more sophisticated. And so, I could see one heck of a change. And poor old B Reactor was about as old-fashioned as you could get. But it amazes me how they handled the whole thing from the ground up, and we didn't have any major catastrophe. They did have at K Reactors—and I didn't realize the possible danger I was in—they did have where the core did catch on fire. And at least with the monitoring equipment they had, it was where they could respond fast enough to start changing control rods. But it took them a while to get that out. But at least it wasn't like Chernobyl. Chernobyl, they had no chance. In fact, we had videos of--and I'm jumping clear into--where we were shown videos. The fact that when they cut off all the safety systems, they apparently had no knowledge of how fast, when a chain reaction starts, how fast could it be when it goes critical. Because it totally blew everything up, and that's with a graphite core. And unfortunately, people think that, like Energy Northwest out there, that has water as a moderator. There's no graphite whatsoever, a whole different thing. And graphite does burn. And the sad thing is, understand, I've heard that there wasn't a single person that was around Chernobyl that was trying to save the area that is alive today. At least, thank God, we do have a lot more safety concerns. But I don't know if I've totally answered what you're looking for, between the difference, but it was a massive difference. Of course, then when I went over to Energy Northwest, the equipment, as far as recorders, they didn't even have vacuum tubes. Everything's solid state. Pretty much, the current state of the art, or even making changes to be more current, to the more current methods. So it always gave you a different challenge. But I like the changes. And I learned real quick. No matter who, you learn from everyone. And I know my first supervisor, he was sort of like a dad, and he'd, after about two weeks there, he called me in. And he says, I see that you were really raised strict. I says, why do you say that? He says, you don't let anyone disturb you, but you don't come back with any smart aleck remarks. I says, everyone's got something to offer, good or bad. I says, I'm not here for that. I'm here to learn, and I'm here to carry out what you want me to carry out. It was always exciting. And I have no regrets. In fact, most thought that I would never even quit. I quit when I was 66. I figured, well, maybe I should take time out to enjoy life. And I'm glad that I did. I don't miss it. I never tried to think about retirement, or play it into my mind until, I think it was about--well, the last day, I even went out, worked regular assignments until the last four hours. And then, finally, my boss says, well, come on in. There's no use to go any further. And I thought, well, now I can lay everything down, and walk out that gate, and I won't feel like I'm in a pen. [LAUGHTER] It was a great experience.
Arata: It sounds like it. I wonder if you could tell me a little bit about the K Reactor shut down. And I understand there was some talk of maybe starting it back up, and that ultimately didn't happen. Since you worked there--
Cheyney: Right. Well, I heard mostly about that, of course, when I was away from there. And I thought, it was really, really a disappointment. It was really sad. In fact, I think it was pretty much getting into that process when I was down at Battelle. And they were doing some tests out there, and I got to go with an engineer. He wanted me to go out there and help with some equipment. And going in there, everything's stone cold. Everything's stone quiet. Such a massive structure doing absolutely nothing. I thought, what a waste. And what are they going to do? Like I said, I didn't hear a whole lot about it, but it came and really hit home when I went in there, and they're worried about rodents and everything else. That isn't the reactor that I saw. And the excitement that was behind it has just, all is dead. And going back through some of the corridors, and into one of the areas they were experimenting with, just hardly could see around. They had some test equipment. I didn't question exactly what are they monitoring. I'm sure a lot they're looking for, is there any possible contamination concerns or anything? But speaking of contamination concerns, it's just like when any of those reactors had what they call a rupture. That's where a fuel element breaks open, and the material’s going out into that water stream. And what they do is they immediately divert it to, they had a big open area, a pit area where all that high contaminated water went into. And guess what's out there in the winter time? Ducks are swimming in that hot water. And I thought, I wouldn't eat anything around here. [LAUGHTER] But I think there's quite a bit that substantiates all that. In fact, Battelle's doing a lot of research in animals and stuff, and even the materials that they've, the feces material and everything is, like, up in the 5R range, which you wouldn't even want to be near that. And I thought, they've got a lot to learn out there of studying the habitat around there, but I wouldn't want to eat anything. [LAUGHTER] Again, I'm off on another subject. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: That's okay. So overall, I wonder if you could just talk a little bit about any aspects of your work that you found the most challenging, and sort of the most rewarding. Or just overall, how Hanford was as a place to work during the time you were there.
Cheyney: Well, during the time I was there, as far as—I was really impressed with General Electric. They always gave me a feeling of a positive attitude. Also, a very strong feeling that you don't talk about your exact work because it's for the security of the country. And at the same token, I think where it became more rewarding and more relaxing to me is actually when I went to work out at, at that time, Whoops. And at that time, seeing all of the things that go into making a plant, you learn to respect things different. When I went to terminate from Battelle, they says, why in the heck do you want to go there? They're never going to ever operate. I says, well, I'm young enough yet. I want to see what I can learn out of it, and if it don't work--They says, if it don't work, come back here, we'll give you a job. I thought, I bet you will. [LAUGHTER] But I think maybe they were sincere, but I found it really rewarding there. I got involved with--and I never dreamt that I would—is working with robots, going into highly radioactive zones to do monitoring, and to observe what's going on, like steam leaks or anything. So you're not putting anyone in any danger. Out of that, I was surprised, I got an award from, I can't think of the name right now, from the company that was behind it. It was back east, and they sent a plaque awarding me that I contributed to something that basically made things safer, that didn't expose man to. And yet, I found it really exciting because I've always been excited about cameras, and this was working with cameras and with remote control of a little robot. And I made quite a few improvements, and so, I considered maybe that was one of the highlights. It was rewarding. I wasn't expecting anything. I just enjoyed that they let me go on it. And I also worked—I wore two hats in the last years at Energy Northwest, in that I volunteered because they couldn't get anyone else that would go there to write procedures. There was five originally that volunteered, and we all five took on the challenge. And inside of a couple months, it was down to two of us. It ended up, it was down—it was basically myself. And the main reason is, is because you're writing the instructions for that technician to go out and perform a function. If that causes anything like dump the plant, or any kind of danger, you go before the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, and you may be serving time. Well, to protect myself, I always went before engineering, and discussed, and made them put their name on the dotted line with me that, yes, this is right. This is the only way to go about it, or the best way to go about it. And it was rewarding to me from the standpoint that if they needed an extra hand, they'd pull me right off of that, and I was back out on the plant. So I got away from it, just continuing. Like I say, the challenges seemed to never end. And I really, for a while, thought, I don't know, maybe I won't quit. They always teased me that I would be there when they shut the lights out. Well, I'm glad I didn't because getting away from it, as I get older, different medical issues. But I'm still blessed with the fact that I can get around. [LAUGHTER]
Arata: Mm-hm. Is there anything that I haven't asked you about, that we haven't had a chance to hear you talk about that you'd like to share? Any other humorous incidents? Or just anything that stands out in your mind from that time?
Cheyney: Well, it wasn't a humorous incident, but one thing that GE pointed out, well, I guess it was an incident as far as, and of course, it was to teach everybody a lesson, is this one gentleman saw this real neat tool in his eyes. So he decided he'd take it home with him. It turns out it was a contaminated piece of equipment. And so, when they detected that it was missing, all they had to do was they got out their radiation monitors. They had an approximate idea. They could go right to his doorstep. And they went in, and they cut out chunks out of his carpet. Everywhere he'd been in his house, they were cutting out samples. And so I think it was a lesson well learnt. Keep your hands off of it. [LAUGHTER] In a way, I thought it was sort of funny. It's not really funny, though. But taking that kind of, obviously, carelessness, at least it really hit home. It isn't worth it.
Arata: All right. So I wanted to ask you, for general purposes, most of my students were born after the Cold War. They don't remember this time. So what would you like, sort of, that generation or future generations to know about working in Hanford, as this very important aspect of America's place in the Cold War, and winning the Cold War?
Cheyney: Well, I think the main thing is, the big thing is, I'm just trying to figure out how to put it. You shouldn't be afraid of nuclear. If you really know all the facts behind it, and all of the precautions behind it, it is one heck of a rewarding career. And it is something that I think I'm probably a whole lot healthier, and a whole lot that I know that have never had anything to do with nuclear, and yet, my whole life, basically, has been out there. And it definitely is rewarding in regards to the financial side. Well, I can relate it to my older son, when he was graduating, I says, well, what are you going to do? Because I'd never heard him discuss anything. He says, I'm going to be an instrument tech. I said, where'd you get that idea? [LAUGHTER] And he says, well, I want to do what you did, and I want to make the money you've made. And he went to Perry Tech, and he did real well. And I even, through my supervision, of course, was instrumental, and got him on a few outages out here. But he went on down to the only place where you got a permanent job. But again, instrumentation, the same, similar type of equipment for different purposes down at SCH, where it was making silicon wafers for all these integrated circuits. All the latest technology, it's a Japanese firm. They're very stern, very strict. Well, he had the most seniority and everything there, I think it was 12 and a half years. When it came to lay off and cutbacks, because they're very competitive, he was one of the first ones to let go. Now to try to find work, well, he's been able to get on to outages all throughout the country. So, even though he's had nothing there, right now he's in Raleigh, North Carolina. A month ago, he was down in Florida. And he's getting to see country that I haven't seen, and there's a lot of adventures yet, but he's still dealing with nuclear. It’s definitely, it's nothing to be afraid of; it's something to respect. And I'd say it definitely has a lot of opportunity if a person really wants to make the good money. I know, like I say, it's what you can do with your hands. Of course, you have to use your head too, but there's opportunity that you can really do well.
Arata: I want to thank you very much for coming in, and sharing your memories with us. We really appreciate it.
Cheyney: Well, I hope I've contributed something that's--I enjoy talking about what I can talk about it. It's left me with memories I'll never forget. And I thank you for the opportunity.
Arata: Well, we are very happy to have you. I love your description of standing behind B Reactor, and looking down in those kind of cool, glowing--