Page 36 of The Women of Oak Ridge
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:LAUREL
JONAS ARRIVEDat Aunt Mae’s promptly at three o’clock.
“How’s your father doing?” Aunt Mae asked after he greeted us. “I heard your mother was out of town when he injured himself.”
The corner of his mouth tipped. “He’s as ornery as ever. You know how he hates being idle. Mom isn’t going to be happy when she finds out he sprained his ankle, but he didn’t want her to cut her trip short.”
Aunt Mae chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she hears about it anyway. Gossip can travel all the way to Chicago.” She glanced between Jonas and me. “Where are you two going today? It sounded as though you had the full tour of Oak Ridge yesterday.”
“I’m taking Laurel out to K-25,” he said. “Even though we won’t be able to go inside, one needs to see it to understand how big it is.”
Aunt Mae seemed surprised. “I didn’t know you were able to get onto the site.”
As Jonas explained his access to the restricted area, I notedAunt Mae seemed less agitated talking about the wartime plant with Jonas than she had with me.
“It’s been years since I’ve been out there,” she said. “Last I heard, the buildings were starting to show their age. There’s no telling how many miles I traveled inside those walls, riding my bicycle up and down the long corridors.”
“Would you like to come with us, Aunt Mae?” It would be fantastic to hear her reminisce about her time in the enormous building.
A shadow crossed her face. “No, dear, but thank you. I’ll stay here and read. You children have a nice time. I wasn’t planning anything special for supper, so feel free to grab a bite in town.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was encouraging us to go on a date. I hoped Jonas didn’t get that impression. It occurred to me I didn’t know his relationship status, but in the brief time I’d known him, he didn’t seem like the type of guy to spend time with a single woman if he wasn’t single himself.
We left the house and climbed into Jonas’s Bronco. As we drove west through town on the turnpike, I told him about my visit with Velvet and Roonie.
“I admit I was shocked—and still am—to learn how segregated Oak Ridge was during the war. I guess I didn’t expect the government to make distinctions like skin color while fighting for freedom and equality around the world. I realize pro-segregation laws had been on the books for decades, but it seems like wartime practices should have been different.”
Jonas agreed. He said he’d been friends with the Maxwells’ son since junior high school and had played basketball on the same team.
After we left town, we passed a small white building on the north side of the road. An even smaller structure sat directly across the highway from it.
“That’s the Oak Ridge Turnpike Checking Station,” Jonas said. “The station was built after the war and controlled access to K-25 during the late forties and early fifties. Even though the town itself opened to the public in 1949, the plants remained restricted. By then, the Atomic Energy Commission was in charge of things.”
He went on to describe his father’s job as an MP during the war, charged with keeping the secret and the Reservation safe.
“Dad tells the funniest story about a woman who tried to smuggle bootleg moonshine into Oak Ridge. She had it hidden under her skirt, but the jar had a crack in it. As you can imagine, a puddle started to form at her feet.” He chuckled. “Rather than let everyone think she was... you know... having an accident, she fessed up.”
I laughed. “Bootleg moonshine? That’s crazy.”
“People attempting to sneak alcohol into town was a regular problem for the guards. It was banned, but that didn’t stop folks from trying to bring it through the gates. They’d hide it under their hat or behind the hubcap of an automobile. Dad says he and the other MPs had to search every bus, every vehicle, every day, and every night. Rules and regulations were tight if you wanted to live and work behind the fence.”
We traveled past the abandoned guard house, with thick forests and hills all around. “How far is K-25 from town?” I asked.
“It’s about eleven miles one way.”
“Wow. I hadn’t realized it was located such a distance from the main area. Why did they build it so far away?”
He looked thoughtful. “The men in charge of the Manhattan Project had never worked on anything like this before. No one had. Atomic science was brand new and untested. If something catastrophic were to happen during the process to enrich the uranium, they hoped the hills and distance from town would save lives. It’s the same reason General Groves chose the remote location of LosAlamos in New Mexico and Hanford in Washington. Neither of those areas were densely populated.”
His explanation was sobering. “I’d never considered it could have been dangerous to simply live and work in Oak Ridge. It’s a bit alarming to think that most of the residents had no idea they might be putting themselves and their family’s safety in jeopardy by coming to work here.”
“That’s one of the complexities of Oak Ridge’s history. The vast majority of people, like my folks and your aunt, had no idea what was going on. They simply needed jobs, and the Manhattan Project provided them. I don’t believe the government could get away with something like that nowadays.”
It wasn’t long before Jonas steered the vehicle off the main road into a complex of buildings, paved streets, and crisscrossing railroad tracks. We passed through a checkpoint where Jonas flashed his police badge, assured the guard we wouldn’t be long, and drove slowly through the industrial-looking area.
“All of the buildings you see are part of the Oak Ridge Gaseous Diffusion Plant. Some were built after the Manhattan Project ended, and they each have their own code name.” Jonas glanced at me. “Your aunt would be a well of information about all of this. It’s a shame she seems hesitant to revisit those days.”
I nodded. “I’ve thought the same thing.”
