Page 27 of The Women of Oak Ridge
“Laurel, come meet my friend Velvet Maxwell.”
The older Black woman offered a gentle smile. “It’s good to finally meet you, Laurel. Your Aunt Mae has spoken of you and your family so often through the years, I feel as though I already know you.”
We shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you. It’s a beautiful afternoon to sit outside.” I turned to my aunt. “Are you feeling better?”
“I am.” She cast a mock glare at Velvet. “But I made the mistake of mentioning my headache to Velvet when she called earlier. She hustled right over with a chicken casserole and some chamomile tea.”
The other woman chuckled before she met my gaze. “Your aunt is as stubborn a woman as I’ve ever met. Never wants help with anything.”
I grinned. “It must run in the family. My dad is stubborn too.”
“I remember when Harris and your grandmother came to livein Oak Ridge.” Velvet glanced back to Aunt Mae. “You had a time gettin’ that young man to obey all your rules.”
“He was fifteen and had a mind of his own,” Aunt Mae said.
“How long have you and Aunt Mae been friends?” I asked.
Velvet smiled. “We met in 1944 at K-25. We both worked there. I understand you’re here gathering information about Oak Ridge for your dissertation.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve already interviewed Georgeanne, and this morning I met with Elliot Tyson.”
“Elliot?” Aunt Mae’s brow arched in surprise. “How did you know to get in touch with him?”
“Georgeanne gave me a list of people who might be interested in sharing their stories,” I said.
She huffed. “I should’ve known it was Georgeanne’s doing. Always meddling in business that doesn’t concern her.”
“Now Mae,” Velvet said, gentle rebuke in her voice, “you want Laurel’s trip to Oak Ridge to be successful, don’t you?”
I bit my bottom lip. The last thing I wanted was to cause trouble between friends. I was about to take Aunt Mae’s side in the conversation when she heaved a sigh.
“Of course I want Laurel to get the information she needs.” Her shoulders eased when our eyes met. “It was thoughtful of Georgeanne to provide names of people interested in talking to you. I should have done that myself.” She glanced at her friend, a slight smile inching up her lips to replace the frown. “How about Velvet? She and her husband Roonie both worked in Oak Ridge during the war.”
Velvet’s warm laughter told me after thirty-five years of friendship, she was used to dealing with my aunt. “I doubt Laurel wants to hear about how I cleaned miles of concrete floors at the plant, or how Roonie worked on a railroad crew. I’m sure there are others who had important jobs whose stories would be far more interesting.”
“I’d very much like to hear about your time at K-25,” I hurried to say. “And your husband’s job if he wouldn’t mind talking to me. Everyone who lived and worked in Oak Ridge had different experiences. I’m interested in hearing as many as I can.”
She studied me for a long moment before she gave a single nod. “All right. If you’d like, you can come by the church in the morning.”
At what must have been a puzzled expression on my face, she explained. “Roonie is a pastor these days. I work in the church office on Saturday mornings, helpin’ him get things ready for Sunday. It’ll be nice and quiet so we can talk.”
I took a pen from my purse and jotted down the address on the paper Georgeanne had given me earlier. “Thank you. I look forward to chatting with you both.”
Velvet took her leave then, giving Aunt Mae a hug, along with a reminder to rest.
After she drove away, we stayed on the porch, gently rocking in rockers that reminded me of those on the porch at the Guest House. I told Aunt Mae about Jonas giving me a tour of the town and his invitation to continue tomorrow afternoon. I didn’t mention he planned to take me to see K-25. Hopefully Aunt Mae would be willing to answer some questions after I saw where she’d worked during the war. It would help me fill in the blanks of her life in Oak Ridge.
We enjoyed Velvet’s delicious casserole for supper, then watched an old movie on television. Before we readied for bed, I remembered my promise to help Aunt Mae with the garden. But when I suggested I could change my plans with Velvet and Jonas tomorrow and instead take her to the nursery to purchase seeds and plants, she declined.
“Let’s wait until next week,” she said, followed by a yawn. “You keep working on your research. There’s plenty of time to get somethings planted. And if we don’t, it isn’t the end of the world. Oak Ridge has always had farmers markets in the summer. Even back during the war, farmers brought their fresh produce to town. Some sold chickens and milk outside the gates.”
After we bid each other goodnight, I thought over the events of the day.
Thanks to Jonas, Elliot, and Georgeanne, I was well on my way to gathering the information I needed to write my dissertation. When I’d asked Georgeanne and Elliot about how they felt after they learned of Oak Ridge’s role in making the bomb, their answers were similar to the mathematician from Los Alamos whom I’d interviewed. They each expressed sadness about the devastation in Japan, but they were grateful the war came to an end.
So far no one expressed shame over anything they’d done at Oak Ridge. Georgeanne admitted to feeling troubled and sorrowful that the atomic weapon killed so many innocent people, but she hadn’t felt personal guilt. From what I’d read in my research, not even President Truman had second thoughts about his decision to use the bomb against Japan, despite learning of the devastation left in its wake.
Tomorrow promised to be another productive day.
While I looked forward to chatting with Velvet and Roonie, the unexpected opportunity to spend more time with Jonas sent a slight flutter through my belly.
