Page 38 of The Women of Oak Ridge
On our way back to town, Jonas pointed out the area that had once been a residential neighborhood called Happy Valley, now overgrown with vegetation. The houses and other structures were torn down shortly after the war ended, but during the height of the Manhattan Project, thousands of workers resided there in simple homes, trailers, and the infamous hutments Velvet and Roonie lived in.
“You should check out the library,” Jonas said. “They have a great section on Oak Ridge’s history, plus there’s microfilm of old newspapers from back then. They might be a good resource for your research.”
I immediately made a mental plan to do exactly that Monday morning.
Taking Aunt Mae’s suggestion, Jonas declared I couldn’t return to Boston until I’d eaten a slice of Big Ed’s pizza. Big Ed himself delivered our pie to the table, joking that Jonas, a regular customer, usually ate a large pizza by himself. I had to admit the handmadedough and fresh vegetables were delicious, but the sauce... Oh my. Perfection. Over dinner, we undertook more historical discussions about K-25, the war, as well as the aftermath of the atomic bombs dropped on Japan. By the time we returned to Aunt Mae’s, the sun had already dipped below the hills.
“I had a great time,” I said when we pulled into the driveway. “It was incredible to see where Aunt Mae worked. I understand a little more about what her life was like when she was a young woman here.”
“I had a good time too.” His attention fixed on me. “I don’t know how long you’re in town, but maybe we could have dinner again.”
A warm flutter tickled my belly. “I’m not on any kind of schedule. Dinner sounds nice.”
He seemed pleased. “I’m working late tomorrow, but I’ll call and see when you’re free.”
I nodded and opened the passenger door. “Goodnight, Jonas,” I said, suddenly feeling like a shy teenager talking to the boy she had a crush on.
“Goodnight, Laurel.”
I returned his wave as he drove away, a smile firmly in place. Aunt Mae sat in the living room when I entered the house, the television tuned to an episode ofThe Love Boat.
“I thought I heard a car door.” She stood and clicked off the set. “Did you have a nice evening?”
“I did,” I said. “I’m stuffed with pepperoni and mushrooms from Big Ed’s.”
She chuckled, then sobered. “And what did you think about my former workplace?”
I met her gaze. “It was amazing to see it in person and learn about the work that took place there. You, Velvet, Roonie, Georgeanne, and Jonas’s parents were all part of something bigand important, and it has such far-reaching significance. I’m proud of you, Aunt Mae.”
She exhaled and returned to her seat. I settled on the sofa, hoping my comment hadn’t stirred up the dark memories that kept her from sharing about her early years in Oak Ridge.
“Sometimes I’m not so sure what we did was a good thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Years after the war ended, I read that many of the scientists who worked on the atomic bomb urged President Truman not to use it. Hitler was dead and Germany had surrendered. Some say the Japanese weren’t far behind.” She paused. “One can’t help but wonder what President Roosevelt would have done had he still been alive. Truman had only been president a handful of months when he made the decision to use this new atomic weapon. He hadn’t even known the bomb existed while he was vice president. I just don’t know if it was the right thing to do.”
I heard uncertainty in her words. The same uncertainty I’d heard before in the voices of others who’d participated in the Manhattan Project, especially when I asked about Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I had to admit the situation was a lot more complex than I’d ever realized. Yes, I was proud of Aunt Mae and the others. What they accomplished, knowing so little of the big picture, was truly remarkable. But at the same time, they unknowingly contributed to the creation of a devastating weapon, the use of which on innocent civilians was still questioned to this day.
“The thing is, no one could predict the future.” I hoped my words would bring a measure of comfort to her. “Not President Truman, and not the scientists. Elliot thinks the war in the Pacific could have gone on for years if we hadn’t used the bomb. What a terrible choice our leaders had to make.”
After a quiet moment, she sighed. “I know the work we did for the project here in Oak Ridge was meant to end the suffering, butit also brought suffering to so many. I just wish the war had never happened. It cost too many innocent lives.”
I didn’t have to wonder who she meant.
Millions of military personnel from all over the world had died in the war. The Nazis murdered millions of Jews. Tens of thousands of Japanese citizens were killed and maimed when the atomic bomb, fueled with uranium enriched right here in Oak Ridge, fell on Hiroshima. More perished three days later when the plutonium bomb Fat Man dropped on Nagasaki.
No, it wasn’t necessary to ask who she meant.
Every life lost was a tragedy.
