Science in lux f
Science in lux f

by

Mark D. Bowles

The NASA History Series

National Aeronautics and Space Administration

NASA History Division

Office of External Relations

Washington, DC

June 2006

NASA SP-2006-4317

NASA’s Nuclear Program

at Plum Brook Station

1955 – 2005
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Bowles, Mark D.

 Science in flux : NASA’s nuclear program at Plum Brook Station,

1955-2005 / by Mark D. Bowles.

 p. cm. -- (NASA SP-2006-4317) 1. NASA Glenn Research

Center. Plum Brook Station--History. 2. Nuclear

energy--Research--United States--History. 3. Nuclear

rockets--Research--United States--History. 4. Nuclear

reactors--Ohio--Sandusky--History. I. Title: NASA’s nuclear program at

Plum Brook Station. II. Title. III. NASA SP-2006-4317. 

 TK9230.B69 2006

 621.48072’073--dc22

 2006005497
Table of Contents

Preface vii

Introduction xv

Chapter 1: Removing the Farmers 1

Chapter 2: Building for a Nuclear Airplane 35

Chapter 3: Going Critical with NERVA 79

Chapter 4: Experimenting with the Reactor 117

Chapter 5: Living with Radiation 167

Chapter 6: Halting Nuclear Momentum 215

Chapter 7: Restoring the Garden 245

Conclusion-- Disappearing in the Night 273

Appendices 281

A. A History of Atomic and Nuclear Experimentation

B. The Fission Process and How a Test Reactor Works

C. How a Test Reactor is Designed

D. Other Research Facilities at Plum Brook

E. Interviews Conducted for this Book

About the Author 304

Index 305

NASA History Series 325
For Nancy and Isabelle
Preface

In June 2001 I was part of a group of historians and archivists visiting NASA’s 

idyllic-sounding Plum Brook Station, located in the rural countryside outside Sandusky, Ohio. I had been to this place before when I was writing a book on the history of the Centaur rocket and knew that the scientific community considered it 

one of the leading rocket-testing facilities in the world, where experiments on the 

Arianne rocket, Mars Pathfinder, and the International Space Station had been performed.1

 But the reason for my visit that day was the two nuclear reactors housed at 

Plum Brook, the only such facilities NASA had ever built. I was going to write the 

history of these reactors and tell the story of why the government built them and 

was now in the process of tearing them down. 

Plum Brook is an intriguing place that inspires an air of mystery. In 2001 the 

facility played a role in Dan Brown’s best-selling thriller Deception Point, as a site for 

a scientific cover-up. His protagonist, Rachel Sexton, was an intelligence analyst who 

was “hardly able to believe she was going to talk about . . . a private test facility called 

Plum Brook Station.” 2

 In this fictional world, the secrets of Plum Brook were not to 

be revealed to the public. But Brown’s story about the mysteries of the hidden region 

was familiar to local residents who told rumors about unexplained lights, weatheraltering devices, secret research, and even stories about UFO sightings beyond the 

guarded fences.3

 One Plum Brook director told a newspaper reporter in 1998 that 

many believed that the reason he would not let the public into Plum Brook was 

1

 Virginia P. Dawson and Mark D. Bowles, Taming Liquid Hydrogen (Washington, DC: NASA 

SP-2004-4230, 2004). John Mangels, “NASA Testing Facilities Count Rivals Among Customers,” 

Newhouse News Service (27 July 1999): 1. David Herman, “Following the Bouncing Ball on Mars,” 

Mechanical Engineering 118, 5 (May 1996): 106. James Ewinger, “NASA Glenn Powered Research 

into Solar Cells for Space Station,” The Plain Dealer (28 November 2000): 1B.

2

 Dan Brown, Deception Point (New York: Pocket Books, 2001), pp. 371–373, 493.

3

 One Plum Brook UFO sighting in 1967 was published in Brad Steiger and Sherry Hansen 

Steiger, UFOs Are Here!: Unmasking the Greatest Conspiracy of Our Time (Citadel, 2001), p. 78.

vii
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ix

because NASA was doing “something secret” like “housing a flying saucer.”4 Radioactive research often spawns tales of fear and conspiracy among its neighbors. I was 

eager to explore beyond the Plum Brook fences and enter its dormant and nearly 

deserted nuclear reactors that had sat unused for a quarter-century. 

On the first day of research, once inside Plum Brook’s main gates, we drove 

down a narrow road through what scientists consider to be one of the best examples 

of natural prairie and forest in the Midwest. Its other important natural feature is 

that it sits on the alluvial plain and has the lowest level of seismic activity in the 

entire United States—an important geological feature for nuclear research.5

 There 

were few people on site that day, and once we were away from the guardhouse and 

administration buildings, it was rare to see anyone else about. Plum Brook had once 

employed nearly 700 people, but by the late 1990s there were only 12 civil servants 

on site. When we finally emerged from the trees, we entered a grassy area to see the 

nuclear facility—once the second most powerful in the United States. 

Typically one thinks of the massive hourglass-shaped cooling towers that define 

power reactors. But nothing of the exterior of the Plum Brook reactor indicated 

what was inside. There was only a low, domed structure tucked into a 117-acre site 

with a water tower, several adjoining office buildings, and temporary trailers housing workers. As we parked the car in the gravel lot, we had to verify that this was 

the right place. 

I would later read accounts of others who had researched nuclear facilities and 

discovered that my first impression was not out of the ordinary. Hugh Gusterson, 

who wrote a study on the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory, experienced 

a similar initial reaction. He wrote, “When I first saw the laboratory, I was disappointed. Instead of the conspicuous high security, industrial landscaping, and 

impressive modern architecture I had expected, I found a ragged, non-descript 

sprawl of scrubland and trailers punctuated by the occasional modern concrete-anddark-glass building.”6

 The public perception of nuclear facilities and the true nature 

of life behind their fences are often at odds with each other. Plum Brook was much 

like the place that Gusterson described. Trees dominated a landscape disturbed only 

by sporadic, drab buildings, temporary worker trailers, and a domed building that 

hid inside its potential for unique scientific research. 

4

 Robert Kozar, quoted in Ulysses Torassa, “10,9,8,7 . . . Little-Known Ohio NASA Facility Tests 

New Rockets, Jet Engines,” The Plain Dealer (19 April 1998): 1J.

5

 Michael Mecham, “Big Room, Big Vacuum,” Aviation Week & Space Technology 159, 1 (7 July 

2003): 46.

6

 Hugh Gusterson, Nuclear Rites: A Weapons Laboratory at the End of the Cold War (Berkeley: 

University of California Press, 1996), p. 25.

There were two reactors at Plum Brook, the main “test” reactor, and a smaller 

“research” reactor. Our plan was to actually go inside the main reactor and try to 

envision what it used to do when it housed a vibrant nuclear research program in 

the 1960s. Before we could enter, protocol dictated that we listen to a lecture given 

in the trailers and read through a procedures manual about radiation safety. To 

ensure that we understood what we were told, we had to take a multiple-choice test, 

my first since my undergraduate days. After we passed the test, an engineer led us 

into the reactor security building, where we affixed pen-shaped dosimeters to our 

jacket pockets. These gauges could tell us if we were exposed to any unexpected 

sources of radiation. With a final warning not to eat or drink anything in the reactor 

(eating a meal next to a nuclear reactor was the last thing on our minds), our guide 

led us inside. 

As we entered, the reactor we felt as if we had stepped back in time into the 

1960s. It was like a modern-day ruins, an eerie Pompeii-like place where the material culture of its final days lay untouched, with papers still on desks, equations 

on blackboards, and tools left on workbenches. All Plum Brook nuclear research 

had ended abruptly in 1973, when the government canceled the program without 

warning, forcing nearly 700 scientists and engineers to begin looking for new jobs. 

A skeleton crew consisting of only a few individuals ensured that the closed reactor remained environmentally safe for the next several decades. The government 

kept the reactor in this standby condition until 1998, when NASA finally allocated the funds and received the Nuclear Regulatory Commission’s (NRC) approval 

to decommission it. (The NRC’s Code of Regulations defines decommissioning as 

the “safe removal of a facility from service and reduction of residual radioactivity 

to a level that permits termination of the NRC license.”)7

 The decommissioning 

team established an interconnected series of trailers just outside the reactor, which 

served as the base for their efforts. They informally called this trailer region “Timmy 

Town,” in reference to Tim Polich, the leader of the decommissioning team. He 

managed a group of experienced workers in the slow process of tearing down the 

reactors and transporting truckloads of contaminated waste to landfills in Utah and 

South Carolina.8

Tom Junod, a former “health physics” officer at the facility, told me that he 

7

 John L. Minns and Michael T. Masnik, “Staff Responses to Frequently Asked Questions 

Concerning Decommissioning of Nuclear Power Reactors,” Nuclear Regulatory Commission, June 

2000, Box 8, Folder 6, Plum Brook Archives.

8

 John C. Kuehner, “NASA Reactors Take Final Voyage,” The Plain Dealer (27 June 2002): B10.
Science in lux . . . f

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xi

always had an eerie feeling when he walked back inside the building.9 (“Health 

physics” was a term developed by Manhattan Project scientists during World War 

II to describe the mission of individuals whose job was “radiation protection.”) He 

said, “You almost feel like the place is haunted.”10 At the very least, it is like walking 

into an abandoned museum or a time capsule from the past. Posters from J. Edgar 

Hoover and the FBI reminded the employees, “A theft from your government is a 

theft from YOU!” The engineers had built ashtrays into the walls next to each of the 

hot laboratory manipulator arms, because smoking during the handling of radioactive materials was then a common practice. The massive control panel consisted of 

row after row of identically shaped buttons, with no apparent thought to ergonomic 

organization. It looked like the control room of the Star Trek Enterprise—the way 

the future looked as depicted by the original series back in the 1960s. It reminded 

me that visions of the future have an unusual way of becoming dated. The Plum 

Brook reactor was once state of the art. It now looked like a cannibalized museum 

relic. 

As the Star Trek characters voyaged into the final frontier, we were exploring what 

once represented the leading edge of NASA’s nuclear frontier. Though obviously 

one was fictional and the other real, the two had one other element in common—

rockets and the exploration of space. Inside the dome was the containment vessel, 

where for 11 years NASA had performed experiments on materials and devices to 

support the development of a nuclear rocket and nuclear electric power supplies for 

space exploration. One hoped-for application of this research was a planned nuclear 

rocket to transport humans to Mars. 

Once we finished walking the empty halls, viewing the dry canals, and investigating the abandoned instruments, we walked toward the exit. On our way out 

we entered a room with two full-body radiation counters. Down the center of the 

room was a piece of tape. One side was contamination-free and the other was for 

all people or things exiting the reactor. Though the tape comically reminded me 

of Les Nesman from the 1970s sit-com WKRP, who defined his office walls in 

tape, the engineers stoically assured me that no one inadvertently crossed it—and 

neither did the contamination. Safety was a very serious issue, and no one seemed 

to appreciate the pop-culture reference. Even though our dosimeters read that we 

had encountered no radiation, we each stepped into full-body radiation machines 

to measure any minute traces of contamination that might be clinging to us. Alarmingly, my machine beeped when I was inside, and the electronic diagram of my body 

9

 Len Ackland, Making a Real Killing: Rocky Flats and the Nuclear West (Alburquerque: University 

of New Mexico Press, 1999), p. 102.

10 Interview with Tom Junod by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

indicated potential high levels of contamination in the cranial region. Before I could 

utter, “What does THAT mean?” the engineer guide reassured me that I had simply 

not placed my body properly in the device. I repositioned myself and was given the 

OK sign. I tried to pretend that this was a normal occurrence in my life. 

I was ready to begin investigating the significance of the facility and telling the 

story of its life and death. But I left with many unanswered questions. Why had 

NASA built these reactors at Plum Brook? What did they do? Despite now being 

closed and inoperable for over 30 years, the main Plum Brook reactor is still today 

the eighth largest nuclear test facility that the United States has ever built. Why 

had the nuclear research ended so abruptly? What had the scientists and engineers 

accomplished with their experiments? Why was Plum Brook itself shrouded in mystery that made the conspiracy stories of Dan Brown seem plausible and the tales of 

mystery behind its fence common? And why was the government now spending 

over $150 million (and likely much more when the project is finally completed) to 

tear them down when it cost only one-tenth that amount to initially build them? 

I was ready to begin my journey into the history of this nuclear relic from NASA’s 

golden age of space exploration. 

As I finish writing this preface it is September 2005, fifty years to the month 

since Plum Brook broke ground on its nuclear reactor. Over the past half-century 

NASA’s reactor program at Plum Brook has had a compelling history, even though 

the reactors were engaged in research for approximately one-fifth of this time. The 

telling of this story has required the assistance of a great number of people. I would 

first like to express my gratitude for the dedicated work of Robert Arrighi, who was 

my co-author on an earlier monograph on the Plum Brook nuclear reactor, NASA’s 

Nuclear Frontier.

11 Although that book was primarily a photographic history, I used 

much of the research and oral interviews that we performed as a springboard for 

writing this book, Science in Flux. I also thank Dr. Virginia P. Dawson at History 

Enterprises, Inc., for her valuable insight into NASA history and her comments on 

successive drafts of the manuscript. Both Virginia and Robert also assisted with the 

interviews for this book. 

Kevin Coleman, of NASA-Glenn Research Center, was indispensable for his 

coordination of this project and his advice throughout all phases of the research, 

writing, and photograph gathering. He is a true NASA asset. I also acknowledge 

the valuable assistance of Deborah Demaline, Jan Dick, Jim Polaczynski, Quentin Schwinn, and Bruce MacGregor of InDyne, Inc.; Michael Blotzer, chief of the 

11 Mark D. Bowles and Robert S. Arrighi, NASA’s Nuclear Frontier: The Plum Brook 

Reactor Facility (Washington, DC: NASA SP-4533, 2004).
Science in lux . . . f

xii

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xiii

Glenn Research Center’s Environmental Management Office; Rich Kalynchuk 

at Science Applications International Corporation; Project Manager Timothy J. 

Polich and Senior Engineer Keith M. Peecook of the Plum Brook Reactor Facility 

Decommissioning Team; Steve Dick, NASA Chief Historian; Stephen Garber at the 

NASA History Division; Roger Launius at the National Air and Space Museum; 

Galen Wilson and Scott Forsythe at the National Archives; Nan Card at the Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center; Deborah A. Macdonell of the United States 

District Court Northern District of Ohio (Toledo); Linda Gattshall at the Milan 

Public Library; Margaret Baughman of the Cleveland Public Library Photograph 

Collection; Joanne Cornelius at the Cleveland State University Special Collections 

Department; Jerome Cooke at the Department of Energy; Judith A. Scalf and Patricia Bonecutter at the Northeastern Cooperative Regional Library Depository; Will 

Currie at the Firelands College Library; and all of the retirees from the Plum Brook 

Reactor Facility who graciously gave their time to be interviewed for the history 

projects. Lynn Patterson provided transcriptions for all of the interviews conducted 

for this book, as well as data entry services for some of the charts. She has been an 

important colleague of mine for nearly ten years. 

A talented group of professionals handled the production of this book. Heidi 

Pongratz at Maryland Composition oversaw the copyediting of this book. Tom 

Powers and Stanley Artis at NASA Headquarters acted as invaluable coordinating 

liaisons with the graphic design group at Stennis Space Center. At Stennis, Angela 

Lane handled the layout with skill and grace, Danny Nowlin did an expert job 

proofreading, and Sheilah Ware oversaw the production process. Headquarters 

printing specialists Jeffrey McLean and Henry Spencer expertly handled this last 

and crucial stage of production.

A special debt of gratitude is owed to the manuscript reviewers (anonymous 

peer reviewers and NASA and former Plum Brook reactor employees) who provided important suggestions for this and the previous monograph. They include H. 

Brock Barkley, Jack Brooks, Earl Boitel, Bill Brown, Don Johnson, Jack Ross, Dean 

Sheibley, and James A. Dewar. A special recognition goes to Olga M. Dominguez, 

Deputy Assistant Administrator for Management Systems at NASA Headquarters 

in Washington, DC. Without her support, dedication, and foresight in the preservation of the history of this facility, this book would not have been possible.

This book is dedicated to my wife and daughter. My wife, Nancy, has always given 

me the freedom and support to follow my dreams, and we have been on a wonderful 

journey together for the past 15 years. Our five-year-old daughter, Isabelle, is a 

magical joy in our lives. Each night before bed she peers out her window, excitedly 

trying to find out what the Moon, or Luna as she affectionately calls it, looks like 

that evening. This joy and passion to explore the unknown of space, if even with the 

naked eye, is a common thread that unites all those who gave their lives and careers 

to NASA—an agency of critical importance to the United States. May those dreams 

never be extinguished.

Mark D. Bowles

Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio

September 2005

Introduction

In 1970 Robert Earle wrote a science fiction novel called Hot Lab, the plot of 

which centered on the use of radioactivity as a scientific research tool. It took place 

at the fictitious Pine Valley Laboratories, a remote rural facility, where engineer 

Richard Rendfel, the book’s protagonist, moved with his young family to work. This 

was a reactor that produced streams of neutrons for experimentation, not power for 

energy consumption. These “neutron fluxes” were very intense beams of radiation 

that experimenters directed at various materials in the hopes of learning new secrets 

about their atomic makeup. Researchers exposed the objects to the radiation near 

the reactor core for a specified length of time and then moved them via underwater 

canals to the “hot laboratories” for investigation. These were shielded cells aligned in 

a row where the engineering operators stood side by side, peering into them through 

thick plate-glass, oil-filled windows. They interacted with the materials through 

the deft use of robotic manipulator arms, which were huge claw-like devices that 

enabled the engineers to perform experiments on the materials without exposing 

themselves to high levels of radiation. After Rendfel’s first day on the job, his supervisor told him: “We get nearly everything you can imagine—bottles of irradiated 

calf’s liver, elastomers, transistors, timing devices, sledge hammer handles, and static 

eliminators for tape recorders. It seems that everybody wants to irradiate everything 

they can lay their hands on in hopes of a scientific or commercial breakthrough.”1

 The term “irradiation” refers to the placement of materials near a radioactive 

source such as a nuclear reactor. After World War II, irradiation studies became a 

new and exciting field of science. The narrative in Hot Lab reflected this importance, and Rendfel’s fictional experiences were typical of those who worked inside 

and lived on the outskirts of a test reactor devoted to irradiation experiments. Rendfel participated in the scientific research and devised ways to maintain and repair 

various aspects of the facility. He learned about the history of the laboratory, which 

was as an old munitions factory, and worked daily in its “dreary glamor.” He helped 

1

 Robert Earle, Hot Lab (New York: Vantage Press, 1970), p. 18.

xv
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xvii

Brook nuclear test reactor in Sandusky, Ohio, from 1959 to 1965.3 Though the 

plot of his science fiction story was a fabrication, he based all of the surrounding 

elements on fact. After World War II, the government, universities, and private 

industry built numerous nuclear research facilities to study the effects of radiation. 

The experiments included irradiating materials used to construct future power reactors, develop nuclear weapons, and study radioisotopes in medicine. Research reactors also played pivotal roles in developing future propulsion systems for nuclear 

submarines, airplanes, and rockets. Other elements of Oldrieve’s story were also 

true. The munitions factory, radiation damage, volunteers, antinuclear protesters, 

hot lab manipulator-arm operators, public demonstrations, astronaut visits, professional bonding, health physicists, personal radiation safety, the Cold War, nuclear 

fear, and the research on nuclear rockets were all things that he experienced while at 

Plum Brook.4

 The science of the book accurately portrayed a thriving United States 

test reactor in the 1960s, and his concerns about the impermanence of nuclear 

rocket research were predictive of the future. 

The Importance of the Neutron Flux

Testing and research reactors as scientific tools are more common than most 

people realize, and their history remains largely untold. There is an important distinction between these two types of reactors. A test reactor is one that operates 

above the 10-megawatt thermal power range, whereas a research reactor operates 

between 10 kilowatts and 10 megawatts.5

 Power reactors that generate electricity 

(and operate at much higher power levels) frequently appear in newspaper headlines 

and are conspicuous because of their size and potential for disaster, whereas research 

reactors can be quietly tucked away, even located in the midst of a college campus. 

Since the completion of the first nuclear research reactor in 1942 at the University 

of Chicago, 672 facilities have been built throughout the world. The United States 

was the most prolific research reactor-building nation, with 227 sites, followed by 

the former Soviet Union with 97. These American reactors were constructed by 

national laboratories (Argonne, Oak Ridge, Brookhaven, and Los Alamos), univer3

 Robert E. Oldrieve, “Plum Brook Reactor Hot Laboratory Facility,” Box 252, Folder 12, Plum 

Brook Archives.

4

 Interview with Rosalie Oldrieve by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

5

 National Academy of Sciences, Subcommittee on Research Reactors Committee on Nuclear 

Science, National Research Council, “Survey of Research Reactors,” 1970, Box 252, Folder 2, Plum 

Brook Archives.

gauge the power of the reactor by measuring its neutron flux. He studied problems 

of corrosive fuel and the concerns about radiation damage to the reactor itself. He 

witnessed the protests by antinuclear activists and speculated that the nuclear industry had brought some of the attacks upon itself by its own self-criticism. In awe he 

watched the proficiency of hot laboratory engineers who used their master-slave, 

robotic claw arms to manipulate the irradiated materials removed from the reactor 

core. During quiet moments he saw them practice their craft by attempting incredibly meticulous tasks like threading a string through the eye of a needle in their 

radioactive cells. The engineers performed this demonstration of their skills for the 

frequent visitors to the laboratory, and especially for the “red carpet” tours by astronauts. Rendfel also attended the numerous laboratory parties and quickly felt the 

tight collegial bonds between the engineers and technicians. 

With safety an ever-present concern, Rendfel frequently interacted with “health 

physicists” whose job was to take air samples and monitor the amount of radiation 

each employee received. Since many people speculated that radiation effects accumulated slowly over time in people, he helped enlist volunteers to work in highradiation areas for short periods of time to perform critical tasks. Rendfel always 

carried a dosimeter with him to register the radiation that his own body received, 

and when he was exposed to too much, health physicists sent him to the Radiation Control and Treatment Laboratory for immersion in the whole-body radiation 

counter. Safety was on the minds not just of employees at the reactor but also of the 

country itself, because the United States was locked in an “atomic stalemate” with its 

rival superpower. The nuclear standoff between the nations created a “world based 

on fear.” 

For the employees at the fictitious Pine Valley there was a more immediate 

concern. There were rumors that the government was about to cancel all work on 

nuclear-powered aircraft and rockets. If this were to happen, the entire Pine Valley 

Laboratories would be vulnerable, because this was one of their primary areas of 

research. Rendfel realized, “The place could be shut down.” Despite the importance 

of Pine Valley’s research for the nuclear aircraft and rocket program, Rendfel knew 

that his job was in constant jeopardy. He said, “The final irony . . . is that . . . the 

entire Pine Valley Plant could be completely closed down without anyone being the 

wiser—or really caring if it never reopened.”2

Robert Earle, the author of Hot Lab, was not a professional writer, nor did he 

even exist. The name was a pseudonym chosen by Robert Oldrieve, an engineer 

who wrote the book while he was the hot laboratory supervisor at NASA’s Plum 

2

 Earle, Hot Lab, pp. 56–57.
Science in lux . . . f

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Introduction

xix

tion levels—high radiation fluxes . . . Experiment sponsors from around the country 

came to the Plum Brook Reactor because of this ability.”9

 This was one of the key 

factors that made the Plum Brook reactor such an important research facility. Boitel 

said that comparable fluxes were not possible at other reactors, and for the few that 

could equal or better this performance (Engineering Test Reactor or Dounreay), the 

sponsors had to wait so long in line to get their experiments run that they almost 

became outdated before researchers could complete the tests. 

The wait to perform experiments with radiation demonstrated the growing 

demand for research reactors after World War II. These facilities evolved quickly 

because the United States and other emerging nuclear powers believed that they 

would play a key role in developing more massive nuclear weapons and propulsion 

systems. One observer wrote, “After the war, the development of reactors, with their 

ability to produce neutrons in unheard-of quantities, even beams of them, promised 

to revolutionize nuclear physics, solid-state physics, and any field in which radioisotopes could be used.”10 In an age of increasing specialization, both professional and 

technological, the research and test reactors became unusually versatile instruments. 

In 2005 the Nuclear Regulatory Commission stated that these reactors made significant experimental contributions to almost every scientific discipline, including 

physics, chemistry, biology, medicine, geology, archeology, and the environmental 

sciences.11

The neutron flux became a basic science tool for a wide range of disciplines. 

Nuclear physicists used reactors’ neutrons to help understand subatomic behavior. Solid-state physicists and chemists used neutrons to discover the properties of 

matter and materials. Biologists and physicians used neutrons to study radiation’s 

effect on tumors and organic tissues. Engineers used neutrons to design better 

nuclear reactors and electrical components. Environmentalists and geologists used 

a powerful technique called “neutron activation analysis” to measure trace elements 

like pollutants in air, water, and soil. But it was in the area of nuclear propulsion 

and nuclear rockets where some scientists and aerospace engineers believed that 

research and test reactors would make the greatest contribution.12 Nuclear engineers 

9

 Interview with Earl Boitel, 22 January 2002.

10 Robert P. Crease, Making Physics: A Biography of Brookhaven National Laboratory, 1946–1972

(Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1999), pp. 11, 153.

11 “Fact Sheet on Research and Test Reactors,” U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission, found at

www.nrc.gov/reading-rm/doc-collections/fact-sheets/research -reactors.html. Accessed 11 May 2005.

12 L. Kowarski, “Report on Research Reactors,” in Nuclear Reactors for Research, ed. Clifford K. 

Beck (Princeton, NJ: D. Van Nostrand Company, Inc., 1957), p. 3–27. L. D. P. King, “What a 

Reactor Can Be Used For,” Nucleonics (April 1954): 11.

sities (North Carolina State, Penn State, MIT, etc.), private industry (Westinghouse, 

General Electric, etc.), and the military. In 1961, the year that the Plum Brook reactor went “critical” (meaning that it was ready to conduct research with a sustained 

nuclear reaction), there were 120 nuclear research and test reactors in operation 

in the United States. At 60 megawatts of power, the Plum Brook facility (along 

with its 100-kilowatt mock-up research reactor) was the second most powerful test 

reactor in the country, at the time second only to the Engineering Test Reactor at 

the National Reactor Testing Station near Idaho Falls, Idaho. Worldwide, only the 

Soviet Union, Britain, and Canada possessed more powerful test reactors than Plum 

Brook before it went critical.6

The World’s Most Powerful Test Reactors prior to June 19617

1 United States Engineering Test Reactor, ETR 2 Sept 1957 175,000 

2 Canada Chalk River Laboratories, NRU 3 Nov 1957 135,000

3 Soviet Union SM-3 10 Jan 1961 100,000

4 Soviet Union 27/BM 1 Jan 1956 70,000

5 Soviet Union 27/BT 1 Jan 1961 70,000

6 Britain Dounreay 1 Nov 1959 65,000

7 United States SPERT-3, Phillips Petroleum 1 Jan 1958 60,000

8 United States WTR, Westinghouse 1 Jan 1959 60,000

9 United States NASA Plum Brook Test Reactor 14 June 1961 60,000

The Plum Brook Reactor Facility was important not just for its power capabilities, but even more so for its neutron flux. Plum Brook could pass 420 trillion 

neutrons per second through an area of one square centimeter.8

 Only the Engineering Test Reactor in the United States had a neutron flux equal to that of Plum 

Brook. Earl Boitel, an engineer at the reactor, said, “The Plum Brook Reactor was 

designed such that it could enable you to expose materials to very, very high radia6

 The Plum Brook reactor went critical at low power on 14 June 1961. Harold W. Giesler, Harry J. 

Reilly, and William A. Poley, “Low-Power Tests of the Plum Brook Reactor,” February 1963, Box 252, 

Folder 14, Plum Brook Archives.

7

 Data compiled from International Atomic Energy Agency, “Nuclear Research Reactors in the 

World,” http://www.iaea.or.at/worldatom/rrdb/. Accessed June 2002.

8

 Hugh Murray (Nuclear Experiments Section), “Comparison of PBR Fast Flux with that Obtained 

in Other Reactors,” 25 June 1963, Box 252, Folder 4, Plum Brook Archives.

Rank Country Reactor 1st Criticality Power, KW
Science in lux . . . f

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Introduction

xxi

develop nuclear propulsion systems and atomic batteries. Scientists and engineers 

also needed to learn how various materials would respond to radioactivity over time. 

Plum Brook’s powerful neutron flux facility promised to be an essential experimental test site for this research. 

The motivation behind this program was political as well as scientific because 

America was in a “race” to accomplish its goal. Politically this was the era of the Cold 

War and was shaped by the real and imagined U.S. confrontation with the Soviet 

Union and the ideological struggle between capitalism and communism.14 Nuclear 

capability represented one component of this conflict and was one way to evaluate who was winning the race between the two nations. A month and a half prior 

to Kennedy’s “Urgent National Needs” speech the Soviet Union had achieved its 

latest visible scientific and engineering success, when Yuri Gagarin became the first 

human to orbit the Earth. In 1957 the Soviets had also placed the first unmanned 

satellite into orbit when they launched Sputnik. It appeared to observers in the West 

that the Soviet scientists and engineers might be amassing not only the technology 

and skill to dominate space, but also the world.

An important element of this Soviet potential was the opening in 1956 of a 

facility called “27/BM,” a massive research reactor at the Institute of Physics & 

Power Engineering. Five years later the Soviets finished construction on SM-3, 

with a 5,000-trillion neutron flux. Just months after Plum Brook went critical, the 

Soviets also opened another test reactor with the largest neutron flux capability in 

the world. The Scientific and Research Institute of Atomic Reactors operated this 

100,000-megawatt facility, and it had the potential of producing ten times the neutron flux possible at Plum Brook. The Soviet nuclear research capability, as well as 

rumors that had been circulating for years about its possible nuclear airplanes, left 

Americans increasingly concerned. The Moon and the universe beyond represented 

a second chance to redeem the American scientific and space initiative and secure 

a symbolic and potentially strategic victory on a new frontier. But many questions 

needed to be answered. For example, what type of energy source could be used to 

propel astronauts to the Moon and sustain their life systems while on the surface? 

The answer, according to some, was nuclear power. One nuclear scientific journal 

promised, “Nuclear rockets will get him there . . . Nuclear rockets will sustain him 

there.”15

The Plum Brook reactor was completed and went critical just in time to play a 

role in Kennedy’s vision for the future. The 11 years of nuclear research conducted 

14 Walter LaFeber, America, Russia, and the Cold War, 1945–1996, 8th ed. (New York: McGrawHill Companies, Inc., 1997).

15 “Special Report on Nuclear Energy in Space,” Nucleonics (April 1961).

required a tremendous amount of research in order to make nuclear rockets a reality. 

Government support of facilities like NASA’s Plum Brook nuclear reactor promised 

to make the dream of a nuclear rocket possible, as long as it received long-term 

political support. 

The Changing Politics of Flying Reactors

In 1955 the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA) began 

designing Plum Brook to help support the goal of a nuclear airplane with a nuclear 

test reactor to enable engineers to conduct materials testing. The advantages of 

having nuclear propulsion for an airplane were numerous. Most importantly, in an 

era before ICBMs and conventionally fueled planes that could circumnavigate the 

globe, a nuclear airplane promised the first chance for the American military to fly 

from the United States, drop bombs over the Soviet Union, and then return home. 

But technical and environmental problems overwhelmed the political and military 

potential of this program. Although John F. Kennedy helped to inspire the dream of 

nuclear rockets, ironically he also terminated the research program Plum Brook was 

originally intended to carry out. Kennedy suspended the nuclear airplane program 

in March 1961, after over $1 billion and 15 years of work. Less than 3 months 

before the reactor was to start operation, Plum Brook’s main research program lost 

its political support. The public perceived nuclear airplanes as too costly and dangerous, and chemical fuels began providing many of the advantages once thought 

possible only with nuclear propulsion. This would be the first time that politics 

dramatically shaped the future of Plum Brook’s scientific work. It would not be the 

last. 

Although the government had terminated the nuclear airplane program, Plum 

Brook and the research potential of its neutron flux still represented a valuable capability. Just 20 days before the Plum Brook reactor began experimentation, in May 

1961, Kennedy delivered his famous “Urgent National Needs” speech before a joint 

session of Congress. He talked about his dream of putting a man on the Moon, 

but he also talked about pushing the envelope further into the solar system itself. 

This, he believed, could be done only with a nuclear rocket.13 Although government 

and industry organizations would become involved in the nuclear rocket program, 

Plum Brook became one of the primary centers for conducting experimentation 

on materials and devices for the project. A great deal of research had to be done to 

13 John F. Kennedy, “Urgent National Needs,” 25 May 1961 (Washington: Department of State, 

1961). For an excellent history of the nuclear rocket see James Dewar, To the End of the Solar System: 

The Story of the Nuclear Rocket (Lexington, KY: University of Kentucky Press, 2004).
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xxiii

wounds for a day or two.”20 It took 6 months for the reactor to be safely sealed up 

in what was called a “mothball” condition, and it remained vacant for nearly 25 

years. As the engineers began looking for other jobs, they lamented that one of the 

most powerful test reactors in the world, with one of the highest neutron fluxes, 

was closed in the midst of some of its most important experimental cycles. Ironically, Oldreive’s fictional world from his science fiction novel Hot Lab had become a 

reality. Much like his character Richard Rendfel, Oldrieve likely speculated: Would 

anyone even care if Plum Brook never reopened? 

A Commitment to Science

This book traces the history of Plum Brook and examines the relationship 

between government support and the success of long-term basic science. It is devoted 

to more than just the intricacies of nuclear experimentation. The Plum Brook reactors were in operation for just over a decade, and this book reflects the extraordinary 

effort that spanned four other decades to conceive, build, suspend, maintain, and 

demolish those reactors. 

The story begins when the government first appropriated the Plum Brook land 

from local Ohio farmers to use as an ordnance works during World War II (Chapter 1). Then, in the 1950s, NACA (NASA’s predecessor organization) decided to 

construct a test reactor on these lands and use it for research on nuclear airplanes 

(Chapter 2). When national goals shifted from a nuclear airplane to a nuclear 

rocket, the Plum Brook reactor and its nuclear facilities remained a vital tool of 

basic research in support of the nuclear rocket or NERVA program (Chapter 3). Scientists and engineers commenced their experimental program at Plum Brook in the 

1960s, using the reactor’s radiation to test materials and power systems for space and 

environmental applications (Chapter 4). Several of the appendices expand upon 

some of the technical and scientific details associated with nuclear experimentation 

(Appendices A-C). One problem in operating this reactor was its proximity to rural 

residential communities, and health physicists carefully established precautions to 

help prevent the possibility of accidents and ensure the safety of the population 

(Chapter 5). Even its excellent safety record could not prevent rumors of dangerous radiation escaping into the air and water around Plum Brook, and the fears of 

increased deaths and incidence of cancer.21

 Despite efforts to produce valuable experimental results and protect the public, 

20 Bruce Lundin, audiotaped Shut Down Speech, 5 January 1973, Plum Brook Archives.

21 Tim Sowecke, “Radiation-Death Claim Repeated,” Sandusky Register (26 July 1973): 1.

at Plum Brook’s reactor facilities provided important insights into irradiated materials and helped increase the American nuclear knowledge base. However, nuclear 

power was not the propulsion of choice for the Apollo program, and the Nixon 

administration eventually recoiled from taking long-term financial risks in space 

and implemented a reduced, flat budget. These cuts forced NASA to shut down the 

entire Plum Brook facility because the government no longer supported work on 

nuclear rockets.16 This announcement devastated the 700 NASA scientists and engineers who suddenly lost their jobs. They first learned of the plans to shut the reactor 

down at noon on 5 January 1973, when Bruce Lundin, director of NASA’s Lewis 

Research Center in nearby Cleveland, Ohio, called them all into the Plum Brook 

auditorium and told them about the nation’s new post-Apollo vision for space. This 

vision included a new initiative called the Space Shuttle, but not a nuclear rocket. 

Without a nuclear rocket there was no need for NASA’s only large-scale nuclear test 

reactor. The closure was to take place immediately.17

The government had spent nearly $120 million constructing the various facilities 

at Plum Brook (see Appendix D). This included over $15 million for the reactor, 

$30 million for the Space Power Facility, $14.5 million for a spacecraft propulsion 

research facility, $6 million for a hypersonic tunnel facility, $.5 million for a cryogenic propellant tank laboratory, and $50 million for other capital improvements 

and research facilities. After the Lundin announcement all of these facilities, including the reactor, were going to be shut down.18

The stunned and dejected Plum Brook employees returned to their reactor in a 

somber mood. They felt like they were witnessing the reactor’s funeral, and yet there 

they were inside a facility that continued to operate at peak performance. It was still 

conducting the same experiments that earlier that morning the engineers thought 

were vital to the national space program. That afternoon they gathered together in 

the control room and shut the reactor down for the final time. One Plum Brook 

engineer recalled, “That was a very traumatic experience. There were a lot of tears 

in people’s eyes.”19 Lundin described his own reaction: “You suffer a shock that you 

can’t quite believe it, a feeling of pain and anguish, of course, and then you lick your 

16 Harold M. Schmeck, Jr., “NASA Cuts Programs to Save $200 Million in Current Budget,” New 

York Times (6 January 1973): 11.

17 Bruce Lundin, audiotaped Shut Down Speech, 5 January 1973, Plum Brook Archives.

18 “Plum Brook Station Research Facilities,” 10 January 1986, Box 106, Folder 1, Plum Brook 

Archives.

19 Interview with Earl Boitel, 22 January 2002.
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reactors have nothing to do with power generation. They are in fact a research tool 

comparable to other tools used in basic engineering and scientific research. Although 

these reactors do sometimes appear in the official histories of national laboratories 

like Brookhaven, Argonne, and Oak Ridge, they are a sidelight to the story of the 

institutions that built them. One history of Los Alamos fails to mention the subject 

of research reactors at all.26 While the Plum Brook history is a study of only one test 

reactor and one research reactor, it is hoped that it will reveal important elements 

common to similar types of reactors and stimulate further interest in the subject. 

And the subject of our nuclear past is one that is now becoming more interesting 

to scholars. For example, Gabrielle Hecht’s award-winning The Radiance of France 

(1998) and Paul R. Josephson’s Red Atom (2000) describe the nuclear histories of 

France and Russia.27 Ignoring the research and testing reactors has left a void in our 

understanding of our nuclear past. 

Second, the Plum Brook story is important because it describes a culture of scientists and engineers on the frontier of an emerging science. According to Howard 

E. McCurdy, “The frontier mentality is very much a part of NASA’s technical culture.”28 This mentality in many ways defined the experience for the scientists and 

engineers who also worked at NASA’s largest nuclear reactor. Plum Brook Facility 

Chief A. Bert Davis said, “We were young and eager and we felt like we were pushing back the frontiers of science.”29 The Plum Brook reactor became the home of 

NASA’s nuclear frontier—the boundary between what was known and unknown 

about the effects of radiation on materials and the performance of devices. Taming a 

frontier requires long-term support, commitment, patience, and cultivation. Without it no scientific pioneer can survive. 

The design of the Plum Brook reactor began as a NACA government project, the 

precursor to NASA. The NACA culture was one that preferred taking on complex 

tasks in-house, with limited use of contractors (NASA emerged in 1958 out of the 

demise of NACA, though it did not continue its model of in-house research over 

26 Jo Ann Shroyer, Secret Mesa: Inside Los Alamos National Laboratory (New York: John Wiley & 

Sons, Inc., 1998).

27 Gabrielle Hecht, The Radiance of France: Nuclear Power and National Identity after World War 

II (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1998). Paul R. Josephson, Red Atom: Russia’s Nuclear Power Program 

from Stalin to Today (New York: W. H. Freeman and Company, 2000).

28 Howard E. McCurdy, Inside NASA: High Technology and Organizational Change in the U.S. Space 

Program (Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993), p. 72.

29 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.

the government shut Plum Brook down in 1973 before it was able to conclude 

much of its research (Chapter 6). The reactor lay dormant for nearly a quarter-century before the Nuclear Regulatory Commission finally decided to decommission 

and tear down the reactor, a project that continues today (Chapter 7). When the 

decommissioning team finishes its work, it will cost ten times more to dismantle 

the reactor (low estimates are between $150 million and $160 million for ongoing 

work) than it did to construct it ($15 million), and the effort to demolish it will 

last nearly as long as the time the reactor was operational.22 Had NASA decided to 

decommission the reactor in 1976 it would have cost the government only $1.2 

million.23 This story of the cost of nuclear cleanup and the time required to safely 

dispose of it is an important one in our nuclear past.24

The history of the Plum Brook reactor is important for several reasons. First, 

there has been virtually no historical analysis of the development of research and 

test reactors in the United States. The twentieth century represented the beginnings 

of the atomic age, and various histories have explored its cultural, scientific, and 

political meanings. The “atoms for war” authors tell about the development of the 

bomb, the Manhattan Project, the Cold War arms race, nuclear fear, and political 

negotiation of atomic weapons reduction. The “atoms for peace” authors discuss the 

rise of the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC), the emergence of nuclear energy, the 

fight of antinuclear protestors, the environmental movement, and the concern over 

accidents at places like Three Mile Island. One story about the twentieth century’s 

atomic age has not been told: the use of nuclear reactors for basic research in science 

and technology. Today there are 36 research and test reactors in operation in the 

United States; 5 more are in a “possess but do not operate mode,” and another 13 

are in the process of being decommissioned.25 Two of these in-process decommissioning reactors are at Plum Brook. 

Because nuclear reactors that produce electricity often generate significant environmental controversy, they are often confused with research reactors. Research 

22 Reactor costs found in AEC, “Quarterly Report on Status of Reactor Construction,” 7 November 

1961, Box 1, Folder 5, Plum Brook Archives. “New Reactor Started in Ohio,” New York Times (18 July 

1963): 16. John Mangels, “NASA to Dismantle Two Ohio Reactor Devices at Plum Brook,” The Plain 

Dealer (30 October 1999): 11B.

23 “Review of Plum Brook Station Standby Statuses,” (28 September 1976), Box 106, Folder 3, 

Plum Brook Archives.

24 Michael D’Antonio, Atomic Harvest: Hanford and the Lethal Toll of America’s Nuclear Arsenal 

(New York: Crown Publishers, Inc., 1993), p. x1.

25 “Fact Sheet on Research and Test Reactors,” U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission, found at 

www.nrc.gov/reading-rm/doc-collections/fact-sheets/research -reactors.html,. Accessed 11 May 2005.
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xxvii

testing or experimentation.31 Plum Brook was an engineering reactor that was built 

and operated not by scientists, but by engineers. Furthermore, one of the ultimate 

goals of NASA itself, building and flying a nuclear rocket, was far more of an engineering dream than a scientific one. As Vannevar Bush once said, “...when we sent 

the first astronaut to the moon, the press hailed it as a great scientific achievement. Of course it was nothing of the sort; it was a marvelously skillful engineering 

job.”32Plum Brook was like a wind tunnel, a huge test rig, or a giant experimental 

tool.33 It was not, by contrast, similar to a university scientific research facility. Nevertheless, “science” appears in the title of the book. I am sure that many who have 

studied the shades of distinction between what scientists and engineers do will find 

fault with this terminology.34 But “science” was chosen purposely to convey a concern for the larger pursuit of knowledge, and in this sense I allow science to subsume 

the pursuit of engineering knowledge as well. As a result, science (and engineering) 

in flux, along with the ramifications of this often unstable pursuit (for both the 

people involved and the infrastructure that supports them), is the central theme of 

this book. This theme is explored through the lens of the Plum Brook reactor. 

U.S. Representative Charles A. Mosher, the local Sandusky, Ohio, Republican 

congressman, took great interest in the Plum Brook reactor. He served in Congress 

for 16 years, from 1961 to 1977, and was a strong advocate for the reactor as the 

ranking minority member of the Science and Astronautics Committee of the U.S. 

House of Representatives. He also served as the executive director of the House 

Science and Technology Committee.35 In a private letter written after the reactor 

closed, he expressed his dismay over the lack of long-term commitment and vision 

to government-supported science. He wrote, “Among the major mistakes we make 

in government are our very wasteful, erratic ways of ‘on and off,’ firing up programs for short periods and then cooling them down. NASA’s Plum Brook facility 

at Sandusky is a costly example of that.” He argued that efficiency, cost control, and 

31 The Wordsworth Dictionary of Science and Technology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 

1995), p. 789.

32 Vannevar Bush, Pieces of the Action (New York, 1970): 53-54.

33 Correspondence with Virginia Dawson, author of the history of Lewis Research Center, Engines 

and Innovation (Washington, D.C.: NASA SP-4306, 1991).

34 Edwin Layton, “Mirror Image Twins: The Communities of Science and Technology in 19thCentury America,” Technology and Culture 12, no. 4 (October 1971): 562-580. Eugene S. Ferguson, 

Engineering and the Mind’s Eye (Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press, 1993). Walter G. Vincenti, What 

Engineers Know and How They Know It: Analytical Studies from Aeronautical History (Baltimore and 

London: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1990).

35 Harry J. Lorber, “Mosher Says He Won’t Run Again,” Sandusky Register (12 December 1975).

contractors).30 The responsibility to build the Plum Brook reactor fell upon the 

shoulders of the Lewis Research Center’s scientists and engineers, who had little to 

no nuclear experience. Engineers like Sam Kaufman, Benjamin Pinkle, and Alan 

“Hap” Johnson scoured the non-secret nuclear engineering textbooks to literally 

teach themselves how to build a reactor. They helped create not only one of the 

world’s largest nuclear facilities, but also a place with a thriving organizational culture. The successful operation of Plum Brook was due to the round-the-clock work 

by hundreds of scientists, engineers, administrators, safety officers, technicians, and 

maintenance crew who devoted 15 years of their lives to their work. They were able 

to transform a remote piece of government land into an active research center and 

used the reactor’s neutrons for a variety of experimental purposes, most importantly 

the nuclear rocket program. That nearly all of these workers had to cease work, relocate their families, and find other employment in a matter of a few months reminds 

us all that there is a human side to every policy decision. 

Finally, the Plum Brook story is significant because it reveals an essential truth 

about the scientific process. Basic science requires commitment: it requires the 

commitment of scientists and engineers who are willing to invest their lives and 

careers into their research; it requires the commitment of time to allow for uncertain 

speculation and experimentation into new frontiers of research; it requires the commitment of tolerance to accept false starts and missteps; and it requires a political 

commitment that has the patience and the funding to see what was started appropriately concluded. Without these areas of commitment, the value of basic science 

and research goes unrealized. The Plum Brook story demonstrates what happens 

when political conditions change and commitment evaporates, revealing the Achilles heel of government funded science. It becomes science in flux. 

This double entendre is intentional. “Science in flux” describes the history of the 

Plum Brook reactor in two ways. First, its scientific results came from the value of 

experimenting with its high-powered nuclear flux. “Flux” in this physics terminology relates to the rate of flow and the number of nuclear particles passing through 

a space. The Plum Brook reactor facilities used this flux to determine how materials 

would respond to a nuclear environment in space. But the Plum Brook nuclear science was ultimately in flux (as more commonly used to mean a state of change), not 

because of the merits of the scientific investigation, but instead because of a changing political climate, with its commitment to long-term space goals in flux. 

It should be pointed out that the term “science” in the title of this book is deliberately used in the most general sense, e.g., systematized knowledge gained through 

30 “For Advancement of Space Travel,” Los Angeles Times (4 June 1958): B4.
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xxix

of the twentieth century. It is a tale of nuclear research, political change, and the 

professional culture of the scientists and engineers who devoted their lives for over 

15 years to the facility. It is a cyclical story of farmland giving way to gunpowder 

production in the 1940s, nuclear construction in the 1950s, research in the 1960s, 

standby from the 1970s through 1990s, and decommissioning today in NASA’s 

“resident farmer scenario.” Underneath the attempt to develop nuclear rockets, and 

the challenge to clean up the radioactive ruins from the site that housed the search, 

lies the story of one of the most powerful test reactors of its day. Its history reveals 

the perils, potentials, and challenges of that nuclear quest and science in flux. 

productivity in science required a stable and long-term commitment by government. Mosher concluded, “Persistence is imperative to the productive search for 

new knowledge . . . I suggest that all of human history proves the wisdom of investing generously, daringly, persistently in that vigorous search for new knowledge.”36

Plum Brook’s engineers, local politicians, and NASA officials did all that they 

could to win back a commitment to continue research at the reactor. Even a lastditch effort to redefine the reactor as an environmental test facility for the Environmental Protection Agency failed to materialize.37 Because the government could 

not make a long-term commitment, Plum Brook lost its final opportunity to stave 

off its death sentence. Mosher questioned the wisdom behind this decision. Why 

construct a costly government facility, only to suspend its operations and release its 

workforce when the temporary political winds changed? Mosher predicted that the 

government would be restarting this work again in the 1980s, and by that point the 

over $100 million invested in the Plum Brook infrastructure would be for naught. 

Mosher was correct that the political winds would once again support the efforts for 

nuclear propulsion, but this would not come until the new century. 

Studying the importance of commitment is especially relevant today as the 

nation considers a new future of nuclear activity in space. It appears that Kennedy’s 

goal of building nuclear rockets might have been a dream deferred, but not a forgotten vision. NASA in particular is once again revisiting the advantages of designing 

and constructing nuclear rockets for space exploration and an eventual voyage of 

humans to Mars. George W. Bush’s administration has also outlined a new vision 

for NASA that includes a gradual phasing out of the Space Shuttle program in 

favor of future nuclear-powered voyages to the Moon and Mars.38 Now that this 

historical topic of nuclear propulsion is relevant today, it offers us a chance to learn 

from past lessons. Perhaps the most important lesson is the necessity of establishing political continuity and support for any government-sponsored program in the 

basic sciences. If the nation once again explores the development of nuclear rockets, 

it should attempt to secure such a commitment, or else it will again risk wasting 

billions of taxpayer dollars and the skills of numerous scientists and engineers with 

little return on its scientific investment. 

Thus the history of the Plum Brook reactor encompasses a significant yet mostly 

forgotten story of government’s interaction with basic nuclear science in the last half 

36 Charles A. Mosher to Donald J. Pease, 3 February 1978, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook 

Archives.

37 George M. Low’s testimony before the House Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight, 6 March 

1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives.

38 Jeffrey Kluger, “Mission to Mars,” Time (26 January 2004): 43–50.

Removing the Farmers

In early 1941 Fred C. Baum was working on his 110-acre farm in Erie County, 

Ohio, just like he had every day for the previous 20 years. He was a typical small 

farmer, raising cows, tending to his 120-tree apple orchard, and cultivating wheat, 

field corn, soybeans, squash, tomatoes, cabbage, potatoes, and alfalfa. He and his 

family lived near his fields in an idyllic country residence consisting of a two-story 

brick, slate-roof home with ten rooms, a bath, running water, electricity, and hardwood floors. Near the house were two large frame barns with a silo. Additional 

structures on his property included a milk house, a chicken coop, a stone hog pen, 

a two-car garage, and various equipment sheds. The entire area was surrounded by 

several acres of beautiful shade trees, with a babbling stream named Plum Brook 

running through the center. Although Baum’s farm was a thriving enterprise providing a good living for his family, his crops were about to be destroyed, buildings 

razed, and livestock slaughtered. It was not an act of nature that destroyed the Baum 

A Plum Brook farming family on the front porch of their house. c. 1930s. Courtesy of Henry Pfanner.

1

1
2

Science in lux . . . f

3

Removing the Farmers

keep the facility operating until the nation achieved its military goals. This is a story 

of a clearly defined government mission, a national need, and the commitment to 

see its goals achieved. The scientists who later inhabited these same lands with a 

mission to carry out basic nuclear reactor research for the government would not 

be as fortunate. 

Enforced Migration

Several Native American tribes originally populated the Plum Brook region, 

including the Erie (from which the county where Plum Brook is located takes its 

name), Wyandotte, Ottawa, Chippewa, Delaware, Seneca, and the Iroquois Confederacy. The first white men to venture into the territory were French traders, who 

transferred their claim to the land to Great Britain in 1763. However, after the 

U.S. victory in the Revolutionary War, ownership passed to the fledgling American 

nation. The Erie County land initially belonged to the state of Connecticut, which 

called it its “Western Reserve.” Connecticut citizens who had lost their homes 

during the war to the torches of British soldiers were rewarded with new land in 

this reserve. The land came to be known as the “Fire Lands” or “Sufferers’ Lands.”3

Ironically, there was another reason that these were the Firelands. Native Americans 

would burn the entire prairie each spring to help rejuvenate the lands. This caused 

new grasses to grow and brought migrating deer and elk from 100 miles away to 

eat the rich vegetation.4

 As one early pioneer named Ruth recalled in 1839, the first 

settlers found fertile land and “fine fields free from timber.”5

 Because of the “annual 

fires of the Indians,” these fields became an ideal place to farm. 

However, the government did not immediately award land to these Revolutionary War families from Connecticut. It was not until the 1820s, two generations 

later, that the tracts became available. Nearly all of those who were given lands sold 

off their property to speculators who quickly settled the area. In 1838 settlers established Erie County, 25 years after Ohio had become a state, and the city of Sandusky 

became an important commercial area in the center of what was then the western 

part of the United States. The Erie Canal linked the industrialists to both Lake Erie 

3

 Elisha Whittlesey, Address given before the Fire Lands Historical Society, 1857, The Fire Lands 

Pioneer (June 1858): 18.

4

 Interview with John Blakeman by Virginia Dawson, 26 September 2002.

5

 Ruth, “Scattered Sheaves,” The Fire Lands Pioneer (September 1860): 3.

farm, but an act of government. The United States acquired his property in the 

name of military preparation for World War II. For compensation the government’s 

land agents offered the Baum family $18,375 and ordered them to vacate immediately.1

It was on lands like these that a conflict between the U.S. military/industrial 

complex and its agricultural community occurred throughout the country in 1941. 

The tension began when the government exercised its power of eminent domain and 

forced over 150 Ohio farming families, including the Baums, to sell 9,000 acres of 

land. With war spreading throughout Europe, American political and military leaders began to prepare the United States for the material demands of conflict. Those 

military needs were supplied in large part by 77 ordnance factories built throughout 

the country, primarily on the lands of farmers. In the span of just a few months in 

the spring of 1941, land agents took possession of 44 million acres of land (roughly 

the size of all the New England states) formerly owned by private citizens. Baum’s 

farm became the future home of the Plum Brook Ordnance Works. 

In May 1943, in the midst of World War II, Ohio Congressman Alvin F. Weichel 

reflected upon the dramatic transition that this land had undergone. He reminisced 

about what the area had been like before the government transformed it into a 

munitions factory. He said, “Just about two years ago, this very ground was a peaceful countryside and one of the garden spots of America.” For decades farmers had 

measured the worth of this land by the production of apples, crops, and livestock. 

Preparations for war imposed a harsh new reality. In a matter of months, the government acquired it, cleared it of farms, and transformed it into a massive industrial 

war production site. This transformation, according to Weichel, demonstrated the 

virility of America itself, whose strength was measured by Plum Brook’s “huge quantities of lethal products which it pours forth . . . to bring destruction and dismay to 

the enemies of our beloved country.”2

This chapter explores the government’s effort to transform the Plum Brook 

land by removing the resident farmers and building a massive ordnance works that 

became one of the three largest suppliers of trinitrotoluene (TNT) for the United 

States (producing nearly one billion pounds for World War II). Although it devastated the farmers, the Plum Brook Ordnance Works was successful because the 

government had a specific need for the land as well as a political commitment to 

1

 Fred Baum petition, 29 October 1941, Record Group 21, Records of the District Courts of the 

United States, Toledo, Civil Case 4627, U.S. vs. 1140.375 Acres of Land et al., National Archives–Great 

Lakes Region (Chicago).

2

 Congressman Weichel, quoted in “Colorful Ceremony Marks Presentation of Honors to Plum 

Brook Employees,” Sandusky Star Journal (1 May 1943).
4

Science in lux . . . f

5

Removing the Farmers

soils that made farming a challenge in New England, the Firelands were a farmer’s 

dream come true.7

Nearly all of those who settled in this area farmed the land. The careful tending of the soil and crop rotation improved its quality, and successive generations of 

families remained on the same plots of land for over 100 years. 

While the succeeding generations of farmers continued to cultivate this land, 

tremendous military, political, and industrial changes transformed the nation. The 

mobilization efforts for World War I had presented extremely difficult logistical 

problems for American industry.8

 Those who tried to ready the nation for war did 

so without knowing what production facilities were at their disposal. There was no 

single agency in charge of preparing the wartime inventory, and “more than 150 

War Department purchasing committees were competing with each other for scarce 

supplies in the open market.”9

 Without central control of production, soldiers in the 

field soon realized that they often had too much of one interlocking part and not 

enough of another.10 It was not until 1918 that the United States attempted to balance the production of parts. In the meantime American troops in Europe often had 

to obtain missing supplies from France and Britain to make up for the haphazard 

shipment of weapons from home.11

Although little could be done during World War I to solve this problem, after the 

war the government vowed never to find itself in a similar situation, and in 1920 the 

National Defense Act was passed. This reorganized the War Department and gave 

control to the assistant secretary of war to coordinate all arms production, so that the 

various military branches would never again compete with each other for supplies. 

The Ordnance Department itself was part of a larger supply chain for the American 

military. Other departments, prior to World War II, included the Air Corps, the 

Chemical Warfare Service, the Quartermaster Corps, and the Signal Corps. After 

World War I the Ordnance Department maintained a relationship with industrial 

7

 Interview with John Blakeman by Virginia Dawson, 26 September 2002.

8

 Kimberly L. Kane, Historic Context for the World War II Ordnance Department’s GovernmentOwned Contractor-Operated (GOCO) Industrial Facilities, 1939–1945 (U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, 

1995).

9

 James E. Hewes, Jr., From Root to McNamara: Army Organization and Administration, 1900–1963

(Washington, DC: Center of Military History, U.S. Army, 1975), p. 29.

10 Constance McLaughlin Green, Henry C. Thomson, and Peter C. Roots, The Ordnance 

Department: Planning Munitions for War (Washington, DC: Center for Military History, United States 

Army, 1955), p. 25. 

11 Gregory Hooks, Forging the Military-Industrial Complex: World War II’s Battle of the Potomac 

(Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1991), pp. 76–77. 

and the Hudson River and made northern Ohio accessible to East Coast markets.6

Diverse peoples came to the area. The first to settle were the Puritans and the 

Congregationalists from Connecticut. What these settlers found were great prairie 

lands. Most of Perkins Township was covered with tall grasses and 6-foot wildflowers. To their pleasant surprise, once they cut back the grasses and plowed the land, 

they found soil richer than any they had ever seen before. Compared with the rocky 

6

 Soil Survey of Erie County, Ohio, February 2002 Interim Report, found at http://www.ohiodnr.

com/soilandwater/soils/soilsurveys/ErieInterimReport.pdf. Accessed on 30 May 2003.

A map of Perkins Township showing the owners 

of the various land plots. (NASA Glenn Research 

Center Miscellaneous Publications No. M-1738)
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Seventy-seven Government-Owned, Contractor-Operated 

Ordnance Works Constructed During World War II15

Aug 1940 Chickasaw Ordnance 

Works Nov 1941 Jayhawk Ordnance 

Works

Sept 1940 Detroit Tank Arsenal Nov 1941 Oklahoma Ordnance 

Works

Oct 1940 Baytown Ordnance 

Works Dec 1941 Kings Mill Ordnance 

Plant

Oct 1940 Indiana Ordnance Works Jan 1942 Keystone Ordnance 

Works

Oct 1940 Radford Ordnance 

Works Feb 1942 Lake Ontario Ordnance 

Works

Oct 1940 Ravenna Ordnance Plant Feb 1942 Longhorn Ordnance 

Works

Nov 1940 Kankakee Ordnance 

Works Feb 1942 Nebraska Ordnance 

Plant

Dec 1940 Elwood Ordnance Plant Feb 1942 Wabash River Ordnance 

Works

Dec 1940 Gadsden Ordnance Plant Mar 1942 Buckeye Ordnance 

Works

Jan 1941 Iowa Ordnance Plant Mar 1942 Badger Ordnance Works

Jan 1941 Kingsbury Ordnance 

Plant Mar 1942 Dickson Gun Plant

Jan 1941 Lake City Ordnance 

Plant Mar 1942 Ozark Ordnance Works

Jan 1941 Morgantown Ordnance 

Works Mar 1942 Pennsylvania Ordnance 

Works

Jan 1941 Weldon Spring 

Ordnance Works Mar 1942 West Virginia Ordnance 

Works

Feb 1941 Denver Ordnance Plant Apr 1942 Bluebonnet Ordnance 

Plant

Mar 1941 New River Ordnance 

Plant Apr 1942 Cornhusker Ordnance 

Plant

Mar 1941 Plum Brook Ordnance 

Works Apr 1942 Green River Ordnance 

Plant

15 Chart from Kane, Historic Context for the World War II Ordnance Departments, p. 45. “OP” refers 

to “Ordnance Plant” and “OW” refers to “Ordnance Works.”

Construction 

Date Facility Name

Construction 

Date Facility Name

contractors, preserved weapons-making knowledge, and planned how future plants 

could be constructed should a world war ever come again. 

Despite the planning, by 1940 the nation felt ill prepared for a new conflict. Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson recalled that the United States lacked even the basic 

raw materials to go to war, especially explosive powder. He recalled, “We didn’t have 

enough powder in the whole United States . . . for anything like a day’s fighting. 

And, what is worse, we didn’t have powder plants or facilities to make it; they had all 

been destroyed after the last war.”12 In 1941 the Office of Production Management 

published a report titled “An Appeal to Every American Manufacturer,” discussing 

the industrial wartime needs of the nation and lamenting the atrophied munitions 

production capability. It stated, “For more than 20 years the Nation concentrated 

its energies and genius for mass production upon the output of automobiles, ice 

boxes, radios, and a thousand and one other useful peacetime products—the fruit 

of a free and vigorous democracy. Our facilities for making munitions dwindled to 

an insignificant level.”13

 The United States Ordnance Department responded by establishing 77 facilities to supply ordnance (weapons, ammunition, vehicles, tools, and equipment) for 

the U.S. Army, Navy, Coast Guard, Marines, and 43 allied nations.14 Although the 

government owned all of these sites, contractors actually operated them; thus they 

were designated by the acronym GOCO (government-owned contractor-operated). 

These facilities were of two types: plants and works. The 43 “plants” existed to fabricate and assemble materials such as tanks, guns, and small-arms ammunition. The 

34 “works” developed basic materials for production, such as powder, explosives, 

and chemicals. The government built all 77 facilities in a remarkably short period 

of time from August 1940 (marking the beginning of construction of Chickasaw 

Ordnance Works) to November 1942 (the beginning of construction of the Detroit 

Cup Plant). 

12 Henry L. Stimson, “America is Ready,” Army Ordnance Magazine, XXIV, No. 137 (March–April 

1943), 275. Ralph Elberton Smith, The Army and Economic Mobilization (Washington, DC: War 

Department, 1959), p. 437. 

13 “Defense Contract Service: An Appeal to Every American Manufacturer,” Folder 1, Box 6, 

Harold H. Burton Papers, Mss. No. 3828, Western Reserve Historical Society.

14 Levin H. Campbell, Jr., The Industry-Ordnance Team (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1946), p. 33. 
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Each of these facilities required many thousands of acres for its specialized military production, and thus the entire mobilization effort hinged upon the acquisition 

of land. Prior to World War II the American government owned roughly two million acres within the continental states. By the end of the war it had acquired nearly 

44 million additional acres, or 72,000 square miles.16 What made this acquisition 

process so difficult was that very little of it existed in the public domain. Private citizens owned the vast majority of the lands, which the government had to purchase 

or condemn.17 Although some of the land was leased, the government paid $360 

million for nearly six million acres (roughly the size of Massachusetts). One report 

estimated that “Thousands of families lost their land and entire communities were 

eradicated.”18 Midwestern farmers were the group most affected. 

Although the acquisition policy was to take little used cropland or unused wasteland first, areas designated especially for ordnance works required valuable farmland 

that was in close proximity to larger cities. Farmland in the Midwest was an attractive 

option for the government because it was located away from the ocean coasts and the 

Mexican and Canadian borders. These interior locations helped safeguard against 

ground invasion. Moreover, the characteristics that made the land itself attractive to 

farmers were the same qualities that made it good for industrial production—level 

ground, a plentiful water supply, and access to railways and roads. Farmers were 

often forced off land that had been worked by the same family for multiple generations. The prospect of starting over somewhere else was inconceivable to many of 

them, and a great many of these displaced farmers left under protest, never again to 

work in agriculture. One historian has argued that this was a significant factor in the 

17 percent reduction in U.S. farmland during World War II.19

The purchase of this land was an extremely difficult and emotional saga for those 

involved. One official War Department history documented the farmers’ plight and 

stated, “The emergency acquisition of land was accompanied by hardship and confusion not ordinarily experienced in peacetime.”20 Farmers and landowners of this 

16 U.S. Department of Agriculture, Bureau of Agricultural Economics, Acquisition and Use of Land 

for Military and War Production Purposes, World War II (War Records Monograph 5, August 1947), p. 

5. Smith, The Army and Economic Mobilization, p. 441.

17 L. Fine and J. A. Remington, The Corps of Engineers: Construction in the United States (Washington, 

DC: Office of the Chief of Military History, United States Army, 1972), p. 510.

18 Kane, Historic Context for the World War II Ordnance Departments, p. 188.

19 Gerald D. Nash, The Great Depression and World War II: Organizing America, 1933–1945 (1979). 

M. C. C. Adams, The Best War Ever: America and World War II (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University 

Press, 1994), p. 119.

20 Smith, The Army and Economic Mobilization, pp. 441–444.

Mar 1941 Redstone Ordnance 

Plant Apr 1942 Kentucky Ordnance 

Works

Mar 1941 St. Louis Ordnance Plant Apr 1942 Pilgrim Ordnance Works

Mar 1941 Wolf Creek Ordnance 

Plant Apr 1942 Sangamon Ordnance 

Plant

Apr 1941 Hoosier Ordnance Plant May 1942 Allegany Ordnance Plant

May 1941 Alabama Ordnance 

Works May 1942 Evansville Ordnance 

Plant

May 1941 Coosa River Ordnance 

Plant May 1942 Lowell Ordnance Plant

May 1941 Ohio River Ordnance 

Works May 1942 Milwaukee Ordnance 

Plant

Sept 1941 Arkansas Ordnance Plant May 1942 New York Ordnance 

Works

Sept 1941 Kansas Ordnance Plant May 1942 Oak Ordnance Plant

Sept 1941 Lone Star Ordnance 

Plant May 1942 Pantex Ordnance Plant

Sept 1941 Louisiana Ordnance 

Plant May 1942 Vigo Ordnance Plant

Sept 1941 Maumelle Ordnance 

Works Jun 1942 Cactus Ordnance Works

Sept 1941 Utah Ordnance Plant Jun 1942 Gulf Ordnance Plant

Oct 1941 Des Moines Ordnance 

Plant Jun 1942 Scioto Ordnance Plant

Oct 1941 Dixie Ordnance Works Jul 1942 Gopher Ordnance Works

Oct 1941 Illinois Ordnance Plant Aug 1942 Eau Claire Ordnance 

Plant

Oct 1941 Mississippi Ordnance 

Plant Aug 1942 Holston Ordnance 

Works

Oct 1941 Missouri Ordnance 

Works Aug 1942 Sunflower Ordnance 

Works

Oct 1941 Twin Cities Ordnance 

Plant Nov 1942 Cherokee Ordnance 

Works

Oct 1941 Volunteer Ordnance 

Works Nov 1942 Detroit Cup Plant

Nov 1941 East Tennessee Ordnance 

Works

Construction 

Date Facility Name

Construction 

Date Facility Name
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An aerial view of the Plum Brook region showing farm plots. Lake Erie is visible in the upper left corner. 

(NASA C-1960-55682)

hard-surfaced roads.23 While this was an important feature for distributing crops, it 

was also essential for transporting munitions in a time of war, and the land became 

prime real estate for the War Department.

On this farmland, near Lake Erie in Perkins, Erie, and Oxford townships, the 

government selected a 9,000-acre site for a new ordnance works. In early January 

1941 government officials announced that this site would become the home of a 

new $11 million munitions works and TNT plant. It selected the area primarily 

because of its rural location. But even more important was its accessibility by water, 

railroad, and highway. By water, the site was near two ports (Sandusky and Huron) 

that would enable ships to transport raw materials and TNT from the facility. Five 

major railroads also intersected near this site, including the Baltimore & Ohio (to 

the west of the land), the New York Central (east and south), Wheeling and Lake 

Erie (south), Nickel Plate (west), and the Pennsylvania (west). Major highways were 

23 “Farm Facts,” Harold H. Burton Papers, Folder 2, Box 16, Mss. No. 3584, Western Reserve 

Historical Society.

“enforced migration” were ordered to evacuate without delay, often without being 

given the opportunity to find a new place to live and work. The poorer farmers did 

not even have the funds required to move their families, store their equipment, and 

house their animals. The older farmers suffered more from the severing of their 

emotional attachments to the land than the economic sacrifice. All farmers who 

were able to move and purchase other lands, at the very least, lost a year’s income 

because they were unable to plant new crops in time for the growing season. One 

Minnesota farmer said: “It was a rude . . . awakening to the people of a rural community that had never been disturbed. Life was so tranquil and peaceful. All of a 

sudden it was just blown to smithereens and we had no foundation.”21

Although many of these landowners fought to retain ownership, few ever succeeded in keeping the government from taking control of their properties. And 

though they were deeply patriotic, most farmers were angered over the lack of control they had over the process, the amount of money offered, and the perceived 

uncaring nature of the government. One farmer recalled his sentiment when the 

Indiana Army Ammunition Plant took his land. He said, “I was in a state of unbelieving shock . . . there was a deep feeling that perhaps, I might wake up and realize I had a horrible dream. It was hard to accept that [a neighbor], so proud of his 

home, his farm, his heritage, was crushed . . . I made up my mind irrevocably that if 

Clark County was going to have the powder plant and bag-loading plant—I didn’t 

want to be near it nor in sight of it.”22 The United States was preparing for war, and 

military/industrial plans took precedence over many private agricultural enterprises. 

A similar story occurred among the farmers in northern Ohio.

 Acquiring Plum Brook 

 By 1940 agriculture in Ohio was a huge business. Nationally the state ranked 

4th in gross farm income ($390 million), 8th in the number of farms (255,146), 

and 18th in total farmland acreage (23 million acres). These figures demonstrate 

that one of the central features of Ohio agriculture was that it was made up of 

numerous small farms. Of a total state population of seven million people, one million lived and worked on farms. Transportation to and from these lands was better 

in Ohio than in any other state, since a majority of its farms could be reached by 

21 Patricia L. Dooley, “Gopher Ordnance Works: Condemnation, Construction, and Community 

Response,” Minnesota History: The Quarterly of the Minnesota Historical Society 49, 6 (Summer 1985): 

219.

22 Kane, Historic Context for the World War II Ordnance Departments, p. 189.
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the government claimed on 7 January 1941 that the decision for the site was still 

“not definitely settled,” just one day later local papers reported that the site selection 

was finalized and that “speed is essential to the defense program” in moving ahead 

with the project.26

Speed meant getting the farmers off their land as quickly as possible. Logistically this was not an easy task, and the farmers were concerned that the government 

would not understand the difficulty of relocating a working agricultural enterprise. 

Moving an entire farm, including machinery, animals, tools, and personal belongings, under a limited time schedule was extremely demanding and was not an item 

that government land agents considered a reimbursable expense.

Although the government had decided to take the land, it had not yet told the 

residents. The War Department hired two men, Major Edward Ostendorf and William Morris of the Ostendorf and Morris real estate firm, to inform the community.27

Ostendorf summoned the farmers to a meeting at the Perkins Grange Hall, the site 

where the TNT works was to be built. The farmers had not been told the purpose of 

the gathering, and rumors quickly circulated that they would learn the official news 

that they were to be forced to vacate their lands. The farmers sat in silence, waiting 

in the old brick building for Ostendorf and the other government agents to arrive. 

Ostendorf announced that the rumors in the local papers were correct: the Perkins 

Township site had been selected, and the government would purchase 7,200 acres 

of land. He assured them, “No high-pressure methods will be used.”28

More than just farmlands were going to be taken over. Numerous buildings, 

many of which were central to Perkins Township community life, were also to be 

razed. These included the Perkins Grange Hall (where many of the farmers gathered to discuss the sale of their lands), Strickfaden’s Store and Nursery, the Brick 

Tavern (a popular nightclub), the Central Erie Supply and Elevator Association, 

Yost’s Store, and St. John’s Evangelical Church. In total, 159 families who resided 

in the area would have to sell their properties and move to another location.29 Not 

only were the farmers to be relocated, but also the final resting places of many of 

their deceased parents and grandparents. One of the most contentious aspects of 

the government’s plan was the relocation of Perkins Township Cemetery and its 450 

26 “TNT Plant Site Revealed,” Sandusky Star Journal (8 January 1941).

27 “War Department Picked Ostendorf & Morris, of Cleveland,” Sandusky Star Journal (7 January 

1941).

28 Representatives of Both Trojan Powder Co. and Boston Firm Expected,” Sandusky Star Journal 

(9 January 1941).

29 “Ostendorf & Morris Co. Begins Work and Trojan Power Co.’s Contractors Expected Soon,” 

Sandusky Star Journal (13 January 1941).

An aerial view of some of the Plum Brook farmhouses before the U.S. government took possession of them 

prior to the start of World War II. (NASA C-2004-102) 

also nearby for overland transport by truck. This was important because the new 

facility was designed to supply powder for shell-loading facilities like the Ravenna 

Arsenal, located just outside Akron, Ohio, less than 100 miles away.24

Before the government made any official decision, landowners gathered together 

for what they called an “exchange views” discussion. L. C. Hill was one of the farmers who led the meeting. He advised his neighbors to be cautious when considering 

the sale of their lands and to negotiate only with accredited federal government 

representatives. Some at the meeting expressed their reluctance to sell. They had 

spent their lives working the land and were “influenced by their pride in the community’s accomplishments” and feared that the government would not only take 

their lands, but also fundamentally change the character of their city.25 Although 

24 “State and County Extension Agents to Aid Farmers in TNT Area,” Sandusky Star Journal (4 

January 1941); “5 Railroads Located in Plant Area,” Sandusky Star Journal (6 January 1941).

25 “5 Railroads Located in Plant Area,” Sandusky Star Journal (6 January 1941).
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A Plum Brook farming family prior to World War II. Courtesy of Henry Pfanner.

racy.”36 To the farmers this democracy was being tainted by the dictatorial powers 

of eminent domain.

Hank Pfanner was a child then, but he clearly remembers today what it was 

like when the government came to purchase his grandfather’s and father’s land. His 

grandfather grew corn and potatoes and raised chickens and cows. He recalled, “I 

remember how the [government] came. They treated the landowners very rudely 

and most landowners were not as upset about the fact of selling the land as . . . 

how they were treated.” For example, Pfanner’s father protested to one of the land 

agents about how much money they had offered him. The agent’s response was to 

take the money, throw it on the floor, and say, “That’s what you’re going to get.”37

The Plum Brook farmers’ disappointment over the amount of money paid to them 

by the government was not unusual. At the Gopher Ordnance Works, a smokeless 

powder facility in Minnesota, farmers told a similar story. One said that she had 

been paid $35 per acre for her land even though she had paid $90 per acre for a large 

36 Franklin D. Roosevelt, “Arsenal of Democracy” address, 29 December 1940.

37 Interview with Hank Pfanner by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

graves.30 This was what many believed to be the first time that the government had 

moved a cemetery to make room for a factory.31 The farmers called a special meeting of all of the individuals who had family members buried in the cemetery, and 

the government assured them that it would pay for all of the moving costs.32 Ironically, the government was willing to pay the moving costs for the dead, but not the 

moving costs incurred by the living descendents leaving their farms. 

William Morris said that he and the other government agents were taking their 

time to explore all of the difficulties of the relocation, including the farmers’ understandable sensitivities to the destruction of their church, and the exhuming of their 

loved ones’ remains. He said, “We are giving as much time as possible to study the 

individual farmer problem with such a view expected to increase the early acquisition of the land.” But he said that though the government wanted to deal fairly with 

everyone and financially compensate them for their cooperation, “the government 

. . . does not intend to be made a ‘Santa Claus.’”33

Despite the government’s emphasis on good intentions, the farmers were angered 

by what they believed was an inequitable monetary compensation for their lands. 

They accused the government representatives of having an “arbitrary and dictatorial 

attitude” in their attempts to purchase their property and argued that they did not 

understand the intensity of their relationship to the land.34 Through over a century 

of work, multiple generations of families had transformed the area into abundant 

farmland with a strong surrounding community. By late January 1941 the government had acquired several large properties, but there was still strong local opposition 

to the amount of compensation offered. Furthermore, if forced to move, roughly 

half of the displaced farmers said that they would not start new farms elsewhere, 

but would look for other lines of work.35 At the same time, President Franklin D. 

Roosevelt was calling for the United States to become “the great arsenal of democ30 “Removal of Bodies Also Provided,” Sandusky Star Journal (17 January 1941).

31 “Perkins Cemetery Trustees Tell Lot Owners About Removal Plans,” Sandusky Star Journal (27 

January 1941).

32 “Perkins Cemetery Trustees Call Meeting of Lot Owners,” Sandusky Star Journal (20 January 

1941).

33 William Morris, quoted in “W.L. Morris Reports Good Progress,” Sandusky Star Journal (14 

January 1941).

34 “Protest Land Acquisition in Federal Court,” Sandusky Star Journal (27 May 1941).

35 “Representatives of Both Trojan Powder Co. and Boston Firm Expected,” Sandusky Star Journal 

(9 January 1941).
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A Plum Brook farmer in his fields. Courtesy of Henry Pfanner.

vocal advocate for the farmers who were his primary constituents.42 In 1941 they 

both gave several reasons why the land should not be used for the powder factory. 

First, the government’s use of the site would remove thousands of acres of vital farm 

production, which would be critical if the nation were to enter the war. Second, 

they argued that there were more suitable lands for the ordnance works that were 

nonproductive in terms of farming. Third, through decades of work the land had 

become so fertile that it produced what many considered the best sweet corn and 

seed available in the United States. Fourth, the land was nearly unparalleled in the 

production of tomatoes, cabbages, and other vegetables suitable for canning, which 

were also essential in time of war. A fourth argument made on behalf of the farmers 

was that the munitions site would ruin the area’s robust tourist trade at the local 

42 Baumhart focused his career primarily upon local politics. After earning his master’s degree 

from Ohio University in 1931, he served in the Ohio State Senate (1937–1940) until he became the 

Republican congressman representing the Plum Brook region. He served only from 1941 to 1942, 

when he accepted a commission with the United States Navy. After the war he became director of the 

Republican National Committee in 1953 and 1954 and returned to local politics from 1955 to 1961, 

when he again became a congressman.

portion of it 15 years earlier. Another farmer from the same region recalled, “When 

we objected to the price . . . they said we should be glad they weren’t taking a son, 

or the men in the family didn’t have to go into service. We should be happy it was 

just the land we were losing.”38

On 15 January 1941 the first trainload of construction machinery rolled into 

Sandusky. This came from the E. H. Badger and Sons Company, located in Boston. 

It sent a variety of machines like tractors and graders over the Baltimore & Ohio 

Railroad to destroy the farmers’ crops and help transform the land. Even as the 

trains came in, the local farmers mounted a protest. The local papers reported 

the “determined efforts by property owners to have the plant placed elsewhere.”39

They watched as their farmland was destroyed, community buildings demolished, 

churches torn down, a cemetery moved, and homes razed or occupied by military 

officers. Pearl Harbor was still a half-year away, and many wondered if the United 

States would even enter the war. Meanwhile the military sent machinery and materials, widened roads to accommodate the influx of trucks, and began construction 

on hundreds of buildings and bunkers. The local residents who remained coexisted 

with the influx of factory workers and voiced concerns over chemical runoffs into 

their drinking water. The industrial war machine had invaded their quiet rural community.

At a subsequent town meeting, Harold Burton, Republican Senator from Ohio, 

and local Republican Congressman A. D. Baumhart voiced the farmers’ grievances.40 Burton had often emphasized the importance of the farmer in his bid for 

U.S. Senator in 1940. He warned that agricultural research was disproportionately 

reduced in favor of “pork barrel items such as munitions.” 41 Baumhart was also a 

38 Interview with Mary McAndrews Hynes by Teresa Seliga and Helen Davis, 30 June 1976, in 

Dooley, “Gopher Ordnance Works,” p. 220.

39 “Major Ostendorf Told in Letter No Change to Follow Objections Filed,” Sandusky Star Journal 

(22 Jannuary 1941).

40 Burton was a Harvard-educated lawyer who had served in the Army during World War I. In the 

1920s he taught law at Western Reserve University and started his own firm. By the end of the decade 

he became interested in politics, holding several community positions, until he became mayor of 

Cleveland from 1935 to 1940 as an independent Republican. In 1940 he turned from local to national 

politics and became a senator from Ohio, serving until 1945. President Truman then selected him as 

associate justice of the Supreme Court, and he held this position for 13 years. “Harold H. Burton 

Register Biography,” Harold H. Burton Papers, Mss. No. 3828, Western Reserve Historical Society.

41 “Harold H. Burton for U.S. Senator,” Harold H. Burton Papers, Folder 3, Box 16, Mss. No. 

3584, Western Reserve Historical Society.
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A number of owners have held back from commencing or concluding 

negotiations with us because of a false hope that has been gained that the 

plant might still be relocated. The Federal Government and Army officials 

now have stated emphatically that there can be no change in the selection 

of this site. Whether these owners have been influenced by a false impression as to the uncertainty of the location of the site or a desire to get more 

than the fair value, the result is the same—delay in completing a critically 

important link in the national defense chain.47

The letter helped convince those still holding out that they had no other option. 

If they did not agree to the fair value price and tried to press for more, their cases 

would have been sent to the Department of Justice, where the ultimate outcome 

might be less favorable. When one of the owners of the largest and most respected 

farms sold his land on 25 February, a majority of the other holdouts conceded and 

also signed.48 By 1 March most of the 159 families had signed the papers, and the 

government promised them $1.6 million in total for compensation.49 Checks to the 

former farmers began arriving by the end of the first week of March.50 James Rea, 

an attorney for the Department of Justice, gave the remaining families a deadline 

of 15 April to vacate their homes. Some of the houses of the first farmers to sell 

were being razed, some were transported off the site on rolling logs, and others were 

converted into residences for ordnance personnel.51 On 8 March, hundreds of these 

family members gathered together in the Perkins Grange Hall to say goodbye to 

each other, enjoy local entertainment, and sing.52 Ostendorf and Morris closed their 

office on 15 March. 53

47 “Letters to Owners Ask More Speed,” Sandusky Star Journal (11 February 1941).

48 “Report One of Largest Farms Sold,” Sandusky Star Journal (25 February 1941).

49 “Payment in 10 Days for First Land,” Sandusky Star Journal (13 February 1941).

50 “Checks are Brought By Jas. W. Rea,” Sandusky Star Journal (3 March 1941).

51 “Production to Begin Soon at Plum Brook Powder Plant,” Cleveland Plain Dealer (26 October 

1941).

52 “TNT Options Completed by Tonight,” Sandusky Star Journal (8 March 1941).

53 Sandusky Star Journal (8 March 1941).

beaches, like the nearby Cedar Point resort, which had been in operation since the 

1880s.43

Another problem was environmental. Many local residents were concerned that 

the area’s streams, waterways, and even Lake Erie itself could be contaminated by 

wastewater flowing from the powder plant. Although this was only a rumor, it spread 

quickly and caused “considerable unrest in the city.” The E. H. Badger construction 

company issued a report to silence these anxieties, arguing that residents “need have 

no fear of contamination or pollution of waters . . . from the powder plant.”44 Specifically the company said that the water used in the manufacture of explosives was 

for cooling purposes and that it would not come into contact with acids or other 

chemicals, which might later pollute the area. 

The delays presented by the petitions and environmental concerns managed to 

slow progress in the clearing of the farmland. The government argued that these 

obstacles were “hazardous to the national defense program.”45 More speed was 

needed in facilitating the transfer of lands and the construction of buildings. The 

entire ordnance works needed to be completed by the end of 1941, so that it would 

be ready to supply explosives to the shell loading plants in both Ohio and Indiana. Many of the farmers cooperated with the government more out of a sense of 

patriotism than a desire to leave their homes, but there remained a group staunchly 

committed to staying put. The government responded, “We wish to be as lenient 

as possible, but if the landowners do not respond better in the near future, other 

action is contemplated.”46 They gave no indication at that time as to what this more 

forceful action might entail. 

The government’s land agents at Plum Brook promised to finish all land acquisition by February 1941. This allowed less than 2 months to contact 159 separate 

landowners and convince them that they had no alternative but to leave their homes. 

By the first of the month the Army had appointed Captain Jermain Rodenhauser as 

representative in charge of the ordnance works. His first task was to urge all of the 

remaining landowners to sell their property to the government. Only 45 percent of 

the total 7,200 acres had been acquired, and he was given until 1 March to complete the job. He sent a letter to all of the farmers, stating:

43 “Committee Learns Reasons for Selecting Erie-Co TNT Site in Washington Visit,” Sandusky 

Star Journal (3 February 1941).

44 “Representative of Construction Company Dissipates Story of Acid Waste Damaging Territory,” 

Sandusky Star Journal (24 January 1941).

45 Ibid.

46 Ibid.
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The power to appropriate private property for public use is known as eminent 

domain. Although this power is not explicitly defined in the Constitution, the Fifth 

Amendment does assume its existence and places limitations on its action. The 

amendment states that no person shall be deprived of property without due process 

of law, and furthermore no private property could ever be taken “without just compensation.” This issue of fair compensation was often contested. If the landowners 

did not agree to the price set for their property by the government, they had the 

right to take the case to court and let a jury of their peers decide the fairness of the 

compensation. To avoid a lengthy trial, it was in the best interest of both the government and the landowner to agree to the initial terms, accept the money, and move 

off the land. But this did not always happen, and many cases dragged on for years. 

One hundred forty-nine of the families accepted the government’s initial offer for 

the land, but ten families refused and argued that they deserved better compensation. This was the catalyst for the start of a four-year condemnation hearing that 

took place before a jury in a U.S. district court .

The following table lists the ten primary defendants, describes their land, what 

the government offered for it as fair compensation, and what the defendants believed 

they were entitled.

Name/Location Offered Seeking Main Features of Property

Fred C. Baum, 

110 acres, parcel 1

$18,375 $35,929 Two-story brick home with ten rooms. 

Two barns. Milk house. Hog pen. 120-

tree apple orchard. 31 cows. 22 hogs. 

Two acres of woods. Diversified crop 

production. 

Anna Bouy, 43 

acres, parcel 2

$14,900 $36,875 Two-story stucco stone home with 14 

rooms. Two barns. Hog pen. Chicken 

coop. 20-tree apple orchard. 47 cows. 

18 hogs. Diversified crop production. 

Amelia Kromer, 

et. al., 37 acres, 

parcel 3

$9,900 $21,325 Two-story frame home with seven 

rooms. One newly shingled barn. Cattle shed. Pig pen. Milk house. Chicken coop. Small orchard of peach and 

plum trees. 13 head of cattle. Diversified crop production.

Carl V. Kromer, 

35 acres, parcel 4

$8,650 $15,607 Two-story brick home with 12 rooms. 

Stone smokehouse. Chicken coop. 

Large barn. Small barn. Two-acre 

vineyard. Two acres of woods. Apple 

orchard. Diversified crop production. 

The Army did not destroy all of the homes. Some were moved to different locations at Plum Brook and used 

for officer housing. U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, US Army. (No. 54)

Condemnation Hearings 

However, not all of the farmers agreed to the price, even though they had no 

choice but to abandon the lands. The government “condemned” their properties 

and initiated legal proceedings.54 Condemnation hearings were provided for by an 

Act of Congress on 26 February 1931, most commonly referred to as the Declaration of Taking Act.55 This enabled the government to immediately take possession 

of contested lands before the issue went to court. Thus, even though the Plum 

Brook landowners refused to sell, they were forced off their property and their compensation was deferred until the case went to trial. 

54 “Labor Call at TNT Job 4 Weeks Off,” Sandusky Star Journal (4 March 1941).

55 The 1931 act is defined as 46 Stat. 1421; 40 U.S.C. sec. 258a). Previous acts defining this power 

include 18 August 1890 (26 Stat. 316), 2 July 1917 (40 Stat. 241), and 11 April 1918 (40 Stat. 518; 

50 U.S.C. sec. 171). The congressional act on 15 April 1941 approved funds for the acquisition of the 

land. Henry L. Stimson to the Attorney General, 9 August 1941, Record Group 21, Records of the 

District Courts of the United States, Toledo, Civil Case 4627, U.S. vs. 1140.375 Acres of Land et al., 

National Archives–Great Lakes Region (Chicago).
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The court proceedings dragged on for two years through various motions and 

re-filings. By June 1943 the jury issued its rulings heavily in favor of the government’s original offer.56 Fred C. Baum’s land (the farmer described at the start of 

this chapter) was the only property for which the original jury ruled in favor of the 

defendant. The original offer was $18,375, and the jury awarded Baum $31,700, 

just $4,000 less than he was seeking. No other defendants were awarded anything 

close to what they believed their land was worth. The government lawyers argued 

that “the verdict was greatly excessive and greatly showed a disposition on the part of 

the jury to favor the land owner without giving just consideration to the testimony 

presented by the government experts.”57

 The other disputes dragged on until 2 April 1945, just 28 days before Hitler 

committed suicide, thus hastening the end of the war.58 The conflict over the compensation for the Plum Brook lands and the construction of an ordnance works for 

the war lasted as long as the war itself. Although the jury returned a mixed result, 

one thing was very clear. The process of providing compensation for land forcefully 

obtained is a difficult and subjective process. The government, working to settle 

thousands of similar cases, attempted to save as much as it could on each property. 

The property owners themselves, heavily invested both emotionally and financially 

in their land, naturally sought to gain as much as they could for what they had spent 

their lives building. In the meantime, while the legal battle was being fought, Plum 

Brook played a central role in winning the world war against dictatorship. 

 The Plum Brook Ordnance Works 

While the condemnation hearings were just starting, the Army began construction on the “Plum Brook Ordnance Works,” retaining the name of a local brook 

and perhaps subtly emphasizing environmental preservation of the area. The first 

56 “Supplemental Brief on Motions for New Trial,” 28 June 1943, Record Group 21, Records of 

the District Courts of the United States, Toledo, Civil Case 4627, U.S. vs. 1140.375 Acres of Land et 

al., National Archives–Great Lakes Region (Chicago).

57 “Memorandum Supporting Motion for a New Trial,” 25 March 1943, Record Group 21, 

Records of the District Courts of the United States, Toledo, Civil Case 4627, U.S. vs. 1140.375 Acres 

of Land et al., National Archives–Great Lakes Region (Chicago).

58 “Final Judgement,” 2 April 1945, Record Group 21, Records of the District Courts of the 

United States, Toledo, Civil Case 4627, U.S. vs. 1140.375 Acres of Land et al., National Archives–Great 

Lakes Region (Chicago).

George D. Beatty, 

156 acres, parcel 5

$11,500 $49,075 Entirely farmland with his home residence on attached property not condemned by the government. Without 

the farmland he claimed his barns and 

equipment were rendered “almost valueless.”

William Kromer, 

83 acres, parcel 6

$14,850 $29,850 Two-story frame, slate-roof home with 

ten rooms. Attached summer kitchen. 

Large frame barn. Steer and cow shed. 

Concrete silo. Chicken coop. Corn 

crib. Milk house. Peach and apple orchard. Small sawmill. Diversified crop 

production.

Emma A. Hermes, 

79 acres, parcel 7

$12,350 $29,977 Two-story frame, slate-roof home with 

ten rooms. Large metal roof barn. Six 

outbuildings. Large silo. Milk house. 

Cherry and apple orchard with 44 

trees. 13.5 acres of molding sand land. 

Dairy farm. Diversified crop production.

Joseph and Martha Michel, 18 

acres, parcel 8

$6,700 $12,590 Two-story frame and shingle-roof 

home with six rooms. One large newly sided barn. Two sheds. Corn crib. 

Grain bin. Newly planted 104-tree 

peach orchard. 

Frank J. Bouy, 133 

acres, parcel 9

$17,850 $42,982 Two-story frame and shingle-roof 

home with nine rooms. Small milk 

house. Chicken coop. Large tool shed 

with steel roof. Large barn. 40-fruit 

tree orchard. 22 acres of wooded land. 

47 cows. 18 hogs. 16 acres of field cord. 

9 acres of soybeans. 6 acres of corn 

stalks. 16 acres of alfalfa. 50 bushels of 

apples. 20 bushels of potatoes. 

Frank and Pauline 

Radde, 50 acres, 

parcel 10

$9,850 $17,430 Two-story frame shingle- roof home 

with seven rooms. Large barn. Large 

tool shed. 40-tree apple, cherry, and 

pear orchard. 12 cows. 12 steers. Diversified crop production.

 

Name/Location Offered Seeking Main Features of Property
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Removing the Farmers

A manufacturing shop at Plum Brook Ordnance Works. U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, US Army. 

(No. 21739, 1944)

meaning and efforts to comply with that request were forthcoming immediately.”62

The Army hurried the administration, hospital, fire, police, and cafeteria buildings 

to completion. Fifteen hundred men were also scheduled to begin work the first 

week of June.

Progress on the cemetery move was also being made. The Army moved half of 

the bodies to the Bogart Cemetery Annex. It made special provisions to allow family 

members who still had relatives buried at the old Perkins Cemetery to be able to 

visit and decorate their graves for the upcoming Memorial Day. This was also a 

significant date, because at 7:00 p.m., as the last of the visitors left the cemetery, the 

Plum Brook guards closed the gate, sealing off for the first time the over 9,000 acres 

of land to the community. The local paper marked the occasion, stating, “Whether 

that section of this country will ever again become a farming region [is] unknown, 

but for the immediate future all efforts will center on manufacturing.”63

Aesthetics were not considered important in the construction of most of the 

ordnance facilities built for World War II. Army engineers placed emphasis upon 

speed in design, functionality, and stability. Major General Charles M. Wesson, 

62 “1,500 Men on Job by Next Week,” Sandusky Star Journal (28 May 1941).

63 “Perkins Cemetery Visited for Last Time Memorial Day by Relatives; Gates of TNT Area Closed 

to Public,” Sandusky Star Journal (31 May 1941).

The cafeteria building at the Plum Brook Ordnance Works. Its construction style was similar to all of the 

structures at the facility. Courtesy U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, U.S. Army. (No. 3-42 1944)

task was to improve the infrastructure by widening the road access.59 Some of the 

larger machinery began to be purchased for the plant, including four diesel electric 

locomotives. Six miles of wire fence was erected around the entire land, and stakes 

marking the future location of buildings were driven into the ground.60 Captain 

Rodenhauser returned from Washington, DC, with the plans for construction of 

the entire plant.61 The headquarters’ building would be the first erected, followed 

by the various other factory buildings and storehouse bunkers. 

By May 1941 significant progress had been made. Conflict was worsening in 

Europe, and President Roosevelt addressed a worldwide audience via radio announcing that the United States pledged its full military support to stop Hitler and his 

plans for “world domination” by the Axis. Roosevelt proclaimed an “unlimited 

national emergency,” and the Plum Brook workers intensified their preparations. 

One report noted, “Following closely upon President Roosevelt’s appeal for united 

efforts to stop the dictators, the Plum Brook Ordnance plant today took on a new 

59 “Await Word After Visits to Capital,” Sandusky Star Journal (20 February 1941); “Plan Roads 

Around TNT Plant Site,” Sandusky Star Journal (21 March 1941).

60 “6 Miles of Wire Fence to be Used,” Sandusky Star Journal (10 March 1941).

61 “Start Still Uncertain,” Sandusky Star Journal (15 March 1941). 
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Removing the Farmers

One of 99 bunkers or “igloos” used to store power in Plum Brook’s southwest corner. Courtesy U.S. Army 

Corps of Engineers, U.S. Army. (No. 21762, 1944)

Other structures at Plum Brook included administrative, housing, manufacturing and chemical processing, processing support, shipping and storage, worker 

support, utilities, and landscaping buildings. Some of the large structures at Plum 

Brook included an administration building, a cafeteria, and a tall water tower. In 

the “acid area” the facility had massive sulfuric acid tanks constructed with linings 

of asbestos, lead, and brick to prevent their destruction.

The first time the community had an opportunity to revisit the area was in September 1941 for the flag-raising ceremonies and the public dedication of the Plum 

Brook Ordnance Works. By this time over 4,000 employees were working daily at 

the facility. The Army suspended all work at noon, so that the employees could be 

on hand for the dedication festivities, which included music from the American 

Legion and visits by high-ranking military officials from Washington, DC. Many 

believed that the public would be surprised when it saw the transformation of the 

lands that just a few months earlier were still producing crops. One reporter noted, 

“When the public views the project next Saturday it will see a small city which has 

mushroomed on the farmlands.”68 Perhaps what was most unsettling for the visitors 

was to once again see their old family homes, many of which were preserved and 

occupied by ordnance workers. Not only were Army personnel living in the old 

residences, the structures themselves had been moved to a new location, away from 

the manufacturing areas. The ordnance officers towed over 100 homes by tractor on 

68 “Flag Raising Ceremonies on Program,” Sandusky Star Journal (21 September 1941).

Chief of Ordnance, said in July 1940, “There are to be no high-fallutin’ gargoyles 

on these buildings.” He then explained, “We will have simple but durable plants. 

We figure that this emergency is not here today and gone tomorrow, and that these 

facilities should be built on a basis that would make them available for the next 

twenty years.”64 There were eight major buildings at the facility costing a total of 

$7,851,335.65

Facility Name Building Cost

Administration Area $827,957

TNT Area “A” $1,036,569

TNT Area “B” $735,483

TNT Area “C” $1,040,415

Acid Area #1 $2,060,674

Acid Area #2 $1,011,692

Acid Area #3 $1,039,858

Pentolite Area $98,684

The most solidly built structures at the ordnance works were the “igloos,” which 

were storage facilities that Plum Brook used to house its explosives. One observer said 

that these facilities have a “unique place in architectural and engineering design.”66

The igloo (named after the Eskimo shelter it resembled) was a concrete and reinforced steel structure shaped like a half-barrel lying sideways in the ground.67 Two 

lightning rods protected them during storms, and they were covered with a thick 

layer of sod. The igloos were equally spaced in a grid (400 feet on each side and 800 

feet in front) throughout the facility so that if one exploded, it would not ignite the 

next closest one, thus preventing a dangerous chain reaction. Plum Brook had a 

total of 99 igloos, all of which were used to store TNT. 

64 Charles M. Wesson, quoted in Fine and Remington, The Corps of Engineers, pp. 165, 325. John 

C. Everett (Chief, Plant Services Division) and L. Marcus (Head, Structural Design Section) to Chief, 

Technical Services Division, 16 May 1958, Folder: Evaluation of Buildings and Structures, Box: 7, 

NASA-Glenn Archives.

65 “Evaluation of Plum Brook Ordnance Works,” July 1958, Folder: Evaluation of PBOW, Box: 7, 

NASA-Glenn Archives.

66 Kane, Historic Context for the World War II Ordnance Departments, p. 109.

67 Harry C. Thomson and Lida Mayo, The Ordnance Department: Procurement and Supply 

(Washington, DC: United States Army, 1991), p. 360.
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Removing the Farmers

Abbott & Costello visited Plum Brook in August 1942 to encourage workers to purchase War Bonds. 

(Permission courtesy of the Charles E. Froman Collection at the Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center, 

Freemont, Ohio) 

Staff quarters for Army officers converted from farmhouses taken by the U.S. Government. U.S. Army 

Corps of Engineers, US Army. (No. 21754, 1944)

Chemical storage containers at Plum Brook Ordnance Works. (NASA 2005-1199)
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Removing the Farmers

One of the factories in operation at Plum Brook Ordnance Works. U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, US 

Army. (No. 201-142, 1944)

homa, Pennsylvania, Plum Brook, Radford, Virginia, Volunteer, Weldon Springs, 

and West Virginia made TNT. Only five ordnance facilities produced dinitrotoluene, including Alabama, Chickasaw, Kankakee, Plum Brook, and Weldon Springs. 

Pentolite was considered the most sensitive of all explosives. The Army made it 

from a mixture of TNT and pentaerythritol tetranite and used it in bazooka rockets, 

detonators, rifle grenades, boosting devices, and shaped charges for high-explosive 

antitank shells. Only Plum Brook and Radford had the capability to manufacture 

this type of explosive. Only Plum Brook manufactured all three.

One other important feature of the Plum Brook Ordnance Works was that it 

was temporary. Its workers knew that they would not be spending the rest of their 

lives manufacturing powder. These jobs would end with the cessation of war. In the 

first week of May 1945 Germany surrendered. On 6 and 9 August the United States 

dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Five days later President Harry 

Truman announced the war’s end via a radio broadcast, proclaiming the next two 

days to be a national holiday. In nearby Akron, Ohio, everyone gathered to celebrate 

on Main Street, which was soon filled with “people yelling and hugging each other 

and mothers of G.I.’s crying.”76 At Plum Brook one observer also noted the “misty 

eyes and tears of happiness because their loved ones were safe at last.”77

76 “Memoirs of Donald L. Bowles,” author’s private collection.

77 “War’s End Taken Quietly,” PBOW News (18 August 1945), The Charles E. Frohman Collection, 

Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center Archives.

rollers up to five miles from their original foundations.69

 Major Jermain Rodenhauser, commanding officer at Plum Brook, spoke at the 

ceremonies and dedicated the facility to the “people of the nation.” He said, “This 

is your plant . . . The Plum Brook Ordnance plant was conceived and built in the 

interests of, for, and by the American nation, as a whole.”70 Rodenhauser’s eloquent 

and patriotic words masked the fact that several of the farmers were still mounting 

protests.

Plum Brook was now ready for operation. The farmers had been removed from 

the land, the U.S. government owned all of the property (though some litigation 

on the settlements was far from over in the courts), the facilities were in place, and 

the work force was learning the task of manufacturing gunpowder. The government 

completed the effort just in time. The first of the 12 TNT production lines began 

operation on 15 November 1941, just 22 days before the Japanese unleashed a 

surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, thrusting America inexorably into World War II.71

Plum Brook became one of the three largest TNT plants in the country. It eventually encompassed over 10,000 acres of land, and the road around the entire facility 

was about 20 miles in length.72 It was a major component of America’s arsenal of 

democracy. Throughout the war Plum Brook sent its explosives less than 100 miles 

away to the Ravenna Arsenal, which was the largest combined shell loading and 

ammunition storage depot in the world.73

In January 1941 the United States had less than 11 million pounds of powder 

and explosives.74 Once operational, Plum Brook was producing 400,000 pounds 

of explosives per day.75 In less than a month it produced more explosives than the 

entire United States had in its storehouses before the war began. TNT (trinitrotoluene) was the most widely produced explosive for World War II. Ordnance facilities at Chickasaw, Kankakee, Kentucky, Keystone, Lake Ontario, Longhorn, Okla69 “Production to Begin Soon at Plum Brook Powder Plant,” Cleveland Plain Dealer (26 October 

1941).

70 “Plum Brook TNT Plant Dedication Underway Today,” Sandusky Star Journal (27 September 

1941).

71 “Production to Begin Soon at Plum Brook Powder Plant,” Cleveland Plain Dealer (26 October 

1941).

72 “Trojen’s Explosives Help Speed War’s End,” Sandusky Star Journal (7 May 1945).

73 “Ohio in the War: Arsenals of the Army,” Sandusky Star Journal (24 December 1945).

74 “Workers Praised by Congressional Investigator,” PBOW News (7 July 1944), The Charles E. 

Frohman Collection, Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center Archives.

75 “Plum Brook Station Review,” 30 December 1976, Plum Brook box, NASA Glenn Archives. 
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Removing the Farmers

Children watch huddled under a tree as most of the Plum Brook buildings are intentionally burned to the 

ground at the end of the war. Over 600 buildings were demolished, while NACA retained 41 structures. 

(NASA 2005-1202)

soon lose their jobs. 80 During its last week in operation, one worker wrote: “All over 

Plum Brook this week were ample evidence that many friendships that have been 

made will endure for life. . . . Through the dark days of the war, through the warweary years, through spring, summer, fall and winter we ate and worked together. 

On many a night we had fun and relaxation together. Friendships, solid friendships 

were brought into being—never to be severed, never to be forgotten. . . . The saga of 

the Plum Brook Ordnance Works as a World War Two explosives-producing facility 

was ended.”81

Suddenly Plum Brook was quiet again. Many observed a return to nature as they 

were leaving the plant for the last time. Some said that peace and quiet had been 

absent from these lands for four years since ground was first broken. There was a 

80 “Maj. Ellet Announces Closing; Praises Trojan and Employees,” Plum Brook News (18 August 

1945), The Charles E. Frohman Collection, Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center Archives.

81 “Auld Lang Syne,” Plum Brook News (18 August 1945), The Charles E. Frohman Collection, 

Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center Archives.

Plum Brook Ordnance Works transportation facility for loading explosives. U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, 

US Army. (No. 20956, 1943)

After the Japanese surrendered to the Allies on 17 August 1945, the production 

at Plum Brook came to an end. For 2.5 years it had operated 24 hours a day, 7 days 

a week, with only a few work stoppages. Nearly 1 billion pounds of explosives had 

been made through the expenditure of 18 million hours with no fatalities. The government spent over $11 million on the land purchase and the construction of the 

Plum Brook Ordnance Works. The total cost was $16 million. The Army needed 

several months to close and “decontaminate” the facility so that the entire site could 

be returned to the government.78 On 23 August the government placed the Plum 

Brook Ordnance Works on a surplus list along with 251 other plants. These assets 

totaled nearly $1.5 billion, not including another 134 facilities owned by the Navy. 

All of these eventually became available for private industry to purchase.79

By the beginning of September, Plum Brook administrators announced that 

roughly 900 people would lose their jobs immediately. Major J. H. Ellett, its commanding officer, congratulated his workers because they remained dedicated to 

their task even during the final days of the war, when they knew that they would 

78 “Production at Plum Brook Ordnance Works Stops and High Praise is Expressed,” Sandusky Star 

Journal (17 August 1944).

79 “Ordnance Plant Here is Placed in Surplus List,” Sandusky Star Journal (23 August 1945).
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“gloriously blue sky overhead.” There were sounds of “what seemed like a thousand 

birds throating a medley of songs just as if the feathered songsters knew that peace 

had come at last to the world of men.”82 The government returned to farmers over 

3,000 acres of land that had been used as a buffer zone.83 As the industrial production faded away, nature began to reassert its presence, but a tremendous amount 

of industrial pollution still remained. For ten years, from 1945 to 1955, the land 

lay dormant. The Ravenna Arsenal took over administration, burning many of the 

unneeded buildings to the ground by putting straw and oil inside and igniting them 

with flames. To the community onlookers this brought to mind once again the 

image of the Firelands. Plum Brook remained in this condition until 1955, when 

the government discovered a new use for the area. It emerged as the prime location 

for one of the largest nuclear test reactors ever conceived to study the effects of 

radiation upon materials that could be used to construct a nuclear airplane. Would 

the government again exhibit the same ability to successfully carry out it objectives 

on these lands?

82 “The Saga of Plum Brook Ordnance Works,” Plum Brook News (18 August 1945), The Charles 

E. Frohman Collection, Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center Archives.

83 “Plum Brook Station Retention Plan,” 1976, Box 106, Folder 11, Plum Brook Archives.
Building for a Nuclear Airplane

On September 17, 1955, just outside Carswell Air Force Base in Fort Worth, 

Texas, a strange airplane flew overhead in the morning sky. To a casual observer 

from the ground it looked like a typical B-36 bomber, but the plane itself was anything but ordinary. The first clues to its significance were the insignias on its outer 

shell. Painted on its side was the symbol of the atom, and on the nearly 50-foot 

tail was the emblem for radioactivity. These images hinted at the plane’s unusual 

payload. Inside its bay door was a 1000-kilowatt nuclear reactor, and the flight that 

morning marked the first time that a nuclear reactor had ever flown inside an airplane. Although the reactor did not power the craft and was used primarily to test 

shielding and other precautions associated with nuclear flight, those involved with 

the project believed that this represented the first step in creating a fleet of nuclearpowered airplanes that would ensure American air power dominance during the 

Cold War.1

Just three days after this flight E. R. Sharp, director of the Lewis Flight Propulsion 

Laboratory in Cleveland, Ohio, made an announcement that NACA had selected 

Lewis to construct a new and powerful test reactor. The reactor’s mission was to 

conduct materials research in support of the nuclear airplane project. Though Lewis 

would manage the construction, the reactor was to be located 50 miles away, at the 

site of the former Plum Brook Ordnance Works. Sharp described the important 

role that the reactor would play in the military preparedness for the nation. He said, 

“The performance capabilities to be realized from harnessing nuclear energy for aircraft propulsion would be nonstop flight to any point on the face of the earth and 

return . . . . The new reactor will be the most useful in the solution of the complex 

problems on which the NACA is working.”2

1

 “47 Tests Made of A-Plane,” The Washington Post (29 January 1959): B4; Mark Wolverton, 

“Winged Atom” American History Magazine (February 2003).

2

 “Plum Brook Ohio Ordnance Site Chosen by NACA for Research Reactor,” Wing Tips 13, 18 (30 

September 1955), NASA-Glenn Research Center Archives.

2

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Building for a Nuclear Airplane

37

Interior control of the B-36 bomber with an onboard reactor. (Department of Energy)

Groundbreaking occurred one year later in September 1956 with a large ceremony attended by politicians, NACA leadership, and the public. Abe Silverstein, 

Sharp’s successor as director of Lewis, and local congressional representatives hailed 

the reactor as an important part of the “atomic future,” and the nuclear airplane was 

praised as the “shining hope” of supersonic aircraft.3

 However, over the next five 

years while NACA built the Plum Brook reactor, this optimism died away. The first 

major change was the transition from NACA to NASA in 1958 and an increased 

national priority on developing projects for space and not aviation. Then with the 

Plum Brook reactor weeks away from going critical in 1961, President John F. Kennedy officially terminated the nuclear airplane program. Though the project cost 

the United States over $1 billion and provided the rationale for the Plum Brook 

reactor’s construction, the flights of the B-36 were the closest that America would 

come to realizing the dream of an atomic-powered airplane.

Why did the United States allocate so much time, money, and human resources 

to develop a nuclear airplane whose outcome was always questioned by leading 

authorities? One answer was that atomic politics quickly followed the discovery 

of atomic power in World War II. The Soviet Union was narrowing the gap in its 

nuclear capability and demonstrated its growing prowess with the detonation of its 

first atomic bomb in 1949. Furthermore, throughout the 1950s rumors circulated 

about a Russian nuclear airplane that was making test flights over Moscow. For 

America to remain strong in the Cold War world it had to continue to solidify its 

capabilities in the nuclear realm. One such challenge became the application of 

3

 Abe Silverstein and Congressman A. D. Baumhart’s remarks at the Plum Brook reactor 

groundbreaking, in “Break Ground for Reactor Here,” The Sandusky Register Star-News (26 September 

1956).

A Convair B-36 bomber converted to operate a nonpropulsive test reactor during flight. It flew 47 times 

between 1955 and 1957 over Texas and New Mexico. (Department of Energy)
Science in lux . . . f

38

Building for a Nuclear Airplane

39

sible within 15 years.6 Because of these findings, in 1951 the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program began. Its goal was to “develop strategic weapons systems which 

would eliminate the limitations of conventional power plants as to range and endurance.”7

To achieve this dream, a great number of environmental and technical problems had to be solved.8

 For example, the crew would have to be shielded from the 

onboard reactor for obvious safety reasons. Traditional shielding was so thick and 

heavy that it would significantly complicate liftoff. For example, biological shields 

on the ground were typically made up of a five-foot-thick concrete shell surrounding the reactor core, or a ten-foot-diameter sphere.9

 Another safety problem was the 

danger to people on the ground. Should the plane crash, there was the real danger of 

spreading radiation to a populated area. The AEC tried to dispel fears about radiation associated with the nuclear airplane. In 1959 an AEC physician, Dr. Payne S. 

Harris, stated that dangers to the public posed by nuclear airplanes were minor ones 

that could be controlled. Furthermore, he claimed that the fallout from the crash of 

an atomic plane would be much less than that produced by a nuclear bomb.10

There were also numerous technical problems, like the choice of materials best 

suited to manufacture the plane and the reactor. At the start of the program no one 

knew what materials could endure high-intensity radiation, resist corrosion due to 

the hot air that the reactor created, and prevent leakage of the radioactive fission 

products into the air. 11 Because of these environmental and technical concerns, in 

1953, President Eisenhower’s secretary of defense, Charles Wilson, argued that the 

entire Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program should be canceled. He derogatorily 

compared it to a “shitepoke” (a Texas nickname for a lanky, awkward-looking bird), 

because even though it might fly, it would likely lumber above the marshes with 

barely enough speed to keep it aloft.12

6

 Herbert F. York, Race to Oblivion: A Participant’s View of the Arms Race (New York: Simon & 

Schuster, 1970), p. 62.

7

 Excerpt from “Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion Program,” Report of the Congressional Joint 

Committee on Atomic Energy, September 1959, in “Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion,” Metal Progress 

(December 1959): 93.

8

 John Tierney, “Take the A-Plane,” Science82 (January/February 1982): 46–55.

9

 E. D. Reeves, “Atomic Powerplants,” SAE Journal (March 1958): 69.

10 Harry Nelson, “Atomic Plane Radiation Dangers Called Minor,” Los Angeles Times (30 October 

1959): 22.

11 T. M. Hallman and B. Lubarsky. “NACA Reactor Facility Hazards Summary” (October 15, 

1956), p.1-1.

12 Wolverton, “Winged Atom.”

atomic power for aircraft propulsion. Whichever nation first perfected such technology would have a devastating advantage in any coming wars, with airplanes capable 

of circumnavigating the globe without the need to refuel. 

Because of these atomic politics the United States actively pursued all things 

nuclear that might significantly improve the nation’s capabilities compared with 

the Soviet Union. This chapter tells the story of the ill-fated nuclear airplane and 

the innovative test reactor NACA constructed to help build it. During this fiveyear period, changes to the political and technological environment fundamentally 

altered the future of this facility and the dreams of a flying reactor. By the time the 

Plum Brook reactor was completed, both NACA and the nuclear aircraft program 

would no longer be in existence. Would Plum Brook itself be able to survive in the 

wake of these changing national commitments? 

The Birth of the Nuclear Airplane

After World War II the U.S. military began envisioning new ways to take advantage of nuclear technology for its weapons arsenal. Since the Army had already developed an atomic bomb, and the Navy was successfully working on the Nautilus (a 

nuclear-powered submarine), the Air Force looked for its own application. It began 

its nuclear initiative on October 10, 1945, when J. Carlton Ward, Jr., president of 

Fairchild Engine & Airplane Corporation, testified before Congress on behalf of 

the postwar aviation industry. He said that the nation that first developed an atomic 

airplane would have an unparalleled tactical advantage in future conflicts.4

 Thus was 

born the quest to put a nuclear reactor into an airplane. 

In May 1946 the Air Force established the Nuclear Energy for the Propulsion of 

Aircraft (NEPA) program. It also selected the Fairchild Engine & Airplane Corporation to develop feasibility studies for the development of nuclear powered aircraft. 

The Massachusetts Institute of Technology carried out further investigations under 

the guidance of the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC). The result was a consensus 

among engineers that nuclear-powered aircraft were possible. In 1948 the New York 

Times cited Oak Ridge engineer David M. Poole, claiming that the “theory of an 

atom-driven airplane” was 99 percent perfected.5

 NEPA urged Congress to give 

this research its highest priority, and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 

on the recommendations of its Lexington Report, projected that success was pos4

 John Tierney, “Take the A-Plane,” Science82 (January/February 1982): 46–55.

5

 “Atom Plane Ready 99% in Theory, Engineer at Oak Ridge Reports,” New York Times (16 

October 1948): 1.
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41

However, knowledge of this Soviet skepticism never made it to the West; only 

rumors of stunning progress. In 1953 the first reports of a Russian atomic plane 

surfaced in the United States. Soviet engineers were rumored to have solved the 

difficult shielding problem with a mysterious material called “LOSK,” unknown to 

anyone else in the world. In 1955 newspapers across the United States began carrying reports about the Soviet atomic plane. One story told of a Communist broadcast from East Germany claiming that the Russian atomic-powered, supersonic airplane would make its maiden voyage in the near future. In January 1955 NACA 

Chairman Jerome C. Hunsaker claimed that the nation needed a strong effort in 

order to achieve a nuclear airplane, and that the United States was in “a technological race with the Soviet Union” to first achieve nuclear flight.15 In October 1955 a 

former AEC staff member said that because of these Soviet efforts, “the heat is on 

to get [the United States] an atom plane in the air.”16 That same month, General 

Thomas D. White, Air Force vice chief of staff, became one of the first Air Force 

officials to publicly discuss progress on the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program. 

He confidently predicted that the “point of uncertainty” had been crossed and that 

the public would see an atomic plane flying “within the next decade.”17

National magazines and newspapers in the United States began reporting on 

this development one year later. In January 1956 the Washington Post stated that the 

Eisenhower administration believed that “our national security may well depend 

on research in atomic energy for aircraft propulsion.”18 In June, Newsweek ran a 

cover story on the “Coming Atomic Plane” and called it the “Fight for an Ultimate 

Weapon.” While conceding that the “best brains” in the scientific community and 

the most powerful politicians in Washington had ridiculed it since its inception, 

the fear that the Soviet Union might actually create a nuclear airplane spurred the 

United States into costly research and development. Newsweek reported that if the 

“Soviet boast of a Russian A-Plane has any validity, the U.S. designers are obviously in a race, and working under the gun.”19 The article listed several reasons why 

the Soviet claims should be taken seriously. First, Russian abilities in developing 

advanced aircraft had already been demonstrated by the Soviet Mig. Second, Soviet 

reactor design knowledge was improving. Third, the Soviets appeared to understand 

15 Robert C. Cowen, “A-Powered Bombers Forecast,” Christian Science Monitor (28 January 1955): 3.

16 “Heat on to Get A-Plane Up Into Air,” The Sandusky Resister-Star (15 October 1955).

17 “AF Official Sees Flight in Decade,” The Sandusky Resister-Star (8 October 1955).

18 “Ike Stresses A-Power for Planes,” The Washington Post (24 January 1956): 6.

19 “The Fight for an Ultimate Weapon,” Newsweek (4 June 1956): 57. Newsweek also published 

artists’ conceptions of Russian and American atomic airplanes on 23 April 1956 on page 68.

Despite the criticisms there were many proponents in the nuclear field who 

assured the skeptics that the fears were unrealistic and the technical hurdles were 

solvable. The Joint Committee on Atomic Energy and others in the government 

were strong supporters of the project, and funding continued. Pratt & Whitney, 

Convair, the Air Force, Lockheed, and General Electric all began developing reactor-testing technologies to try and solve the myriad technical problems associated 

with the nuclear airplane. These organizations worked with the goal of building a 

nuclear airplane that could stay aloft for 96 hours straight without refueling, and 

then at the end of that period make a Mach 2.2 assault on a military target, flying 

just over treetop level.13 But the motivating forces behind the project were political and military. The government was willing to undertake this costly, dangerous, 

and uncertain program because of the Cold War. With the heightening tensions 

between the superpowers, and the increasing rumors that the Soviets were close to 

developing their own nuclear airplane, the U.S. government quickly launched a 

massive effort to close the perceived gap. 

The Soviet Atomic Plane Illusion

In the 1950s the technological “race” with the Soviet Union included many types 

of weapons systems, like missiles and tanks. Soon the nuclear airplane was added 

to the list. The genesis of the program emerged from a letter Anatolii Alexsandrov 

wrote to Igor Kurchatov. Alexsandrov earned his reputation with the Soviet nuclear 

submarine program and later lost much of his status because his government blamed 

him for the faulty design of the Chernobyl reactor. Kurchatov headed the Soviet 

atomic bomb project and established the Kurchatov Institute, which housed an 

important research reactor. On August 14, 1952, Alexsandrov wrote to Kurchatov, 

“Our knowledge in the area of atomic reactors allows us to raise the question of the 

creation of atomic engines in the coming years which can be applied to airplanes.”14

The Soviet government at first opposed the project because it believed nuclear airplanes to be too costly and technically difficult. The Soviets realistically acknowledged that the technological problems associated with the plane were daunting and 

that success would be at best 15 to 20 years away. They believed that a nuclear 

airplane could only be achieved with a long-term technological commitment and a 

great deal of funding. 

13 Interview with Dick Schuh by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

14 Alexsandrov, in, Paul R. Josephson, Red Atom: Russia’s Nuclear Power Program from Stalin to 

Today (New York: W. H. Freeman and Company, 2000), p. 129.
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43

Western observers speculated that the Soviets would soon stage a nonstop, nonrefueled flight around the world to demonstrate its new military capability. A follow-up 

editorial in Aviation Week said that these developments were a “sickening shock” 

and that it was another example of the “technical timidity, penny-pinching and lack 

of vision that characterized our own political leaders.”24 The editorial questioned, 

“How much longer can we ‘afford’ this kind of leadership and still survive as a free 

nation?” 

There was widespread reaction to this story. The New York Times and the Wall 

Street Journal supported the article’s claims, and a Defense Department spokesman 

said that he was under orders “not to deny confirmations of the story.”25 However, 

some government officials discredited the story and argued that the reports were 

untrue. Defense Secretary Neil H. McElroy said that he remained “highly skeptical.” In a news conference Merriman Smith from United Press International asked 

President Eisenhower about the Aviation Week story. Smith asked, “Do we have 

any reason to believe such a report and, second, how do you feel generally about 

these unofficial reports of rather extensive Russian accomplishments?” Eisenhower 

responded by saying, “There is absolutely no intelligence, no reliable evidence of 

any kind, that indicates that the Soviets have flown a nuclear-powered aircraft.”26

While he said that America was a long way from flying an atomic airplane, he 

assured the reporters that “we do not abandon the basic research” that will enable a 

nuclear airplane to one day fly. 

Of all the comments swirling around rumored Soviet flight, Eisenhower’s was 

the most accurate. The Soviet reports were all based on rumors by observers on the 

ground watching a plane fly overhead. Much like the also popular UFO sightings 

during the 1950s, there was also no direct evidence of a Russian atomic airplane. 

Likewise, the United States was no closer to its own atomic plane, and the focus of 

the effort in both countries was confined to basic research. The primary tool that 

scientists used in both nations to explore this potential was the research reactor.

24 Robert Hotz, “The Soviet Nuclear-Powered Bomber,” Aviation Week (1 December 1958): 21.

25 “Nuclear Plane Details Spur Wide Reaction,” Aviation Week (8 December 1958): 28.

26 “Eisenhower’s Nuclear Bomber Comment,” Aviation Week (15 December 1958): 27.

the urgency of developing an atomic plane more so than their American counterparts. Finally, Newsweek also speculated that the Soviets probably cared less for the 

safety of the pilots and civilians on the ground, and this enabled their scientists and 

engineers to make bolder technological advances. 

The successful Soviet launching of Sputnik in October 1957 dramatically 

increased America’s fears that it was falling behind the Soviets in the space race. 

Many believed that the first orbiting satellite would soon be followed by a second 

Soviet “first.” Congressman Melvin Price, a Democrat from Illinois and chairman 

of the Joint Atomic Energy Subcommittee on Research and Development, made 

a personal visit to the Soviet Union in October 1957 and claimed that Russians 

would soon be flying an atomic-powered airplane. He said, “The Russians know the 

tremendous psychological value of startling military ‘firsts . . . ’ Their plane probably won’t be perfect, but I have little doubt that it will be flying. The U.S. has been 

puttering along in the hope of eventually developing the perfect atomic plane.”20 An 

Aviation Week editorial said that Sputnik just represented another in a “long chain 

of Russian surprises in the development of atomic-airpower weapons ranging all the 

way from jet bombers [to] . . . hydrogen warheads.”21

One year later Aviation Week claimed that the Soviets were already flight-testing a 

nuclear bomber. This was an exclusive story, and it generated a great deal of controversy over the ensuing years as politicians, the press, the public, and President Eisenhower debated its veracity. The article reported that a Soviet plane had been flying 

over Moscow for about 60 days. The sources of the story were unnamed “foreign 

observers” (though others claimed it originated from Air Force leaks) from both 

Communist and non-Communist countries who had apparently seen the airplane 

in flight.22 To increase the validity of the report, Aviation Week published schematic 

diagrams and an artist’s conception of the airplane. It had a 195-foot fuselage and 

a 78-foot wingspan and was powered by two direct air-cycle nuclear reactors and 

two conventional turbojet engines. The plane weighed 300,000 pounds. Although 

American observers were unable to learn about the shielding system the Russians 

used, Aviation Week claimed, “Soviet technical literature has been studded with brief 

but positive references to a major ‘breakthrough’ in shielding techniques.”23 Many 

20 Melvin Price, quoted in Katherine Johnsen, “Congressmen Fear Second Soviet ‘First,’” Aviation 

Week (28 October 1957): 29.

21 Robert Hotz, “Sputnik in the Sky,” Aviation Week (14 October 1957): 21.

22 Arthur M. Squires, The Tender Ship: Government Management of Technological Change (Boston: 

Birkhäuser, 1986): p. 97.

23 “Soviets Flight Testing Nuclear Bomber,” Aviation Week (1 December 1958): 27-29.
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45

expensive instruments and large externally funded research projects.”28 The government made big science possible through its willingness to expend large amounts of 

money to develop projects whose outcomes were unknown. Congress made atomic 

energy a priority and a government enterprise. This activity took place at national 

laboratories like Argonne, Oak Ridge, Brookhaven, and Los Alamos, and these laboratories took the lead in developing research reactors. 

The ability to fund these projects without the guarantee of scientific reward was 

the central reason that national laboratories spearheaded the nuclear research initiative. As one AEC commissioner wrote, “The nature and cost of the special equipment required for much of both the basic and applied work of interest to the AEC is 

such as to dictate [nuclear research] in Government-supported laboratories.”29 Even 

though many academic centers sponsored their own research reactors, the financial 

requirements of large-scale nuclear research was well beyond what universities could 

afford. For example, the first reactor at the University of Chicago (funded through 

the government) cost $1.5 million in 1942. However, this reactor was modest compared with the larger facilities built less than a decade later. A reactor built in 1950 

at Brookhaven cost $20 million, and another constructed by Argonne and Oak 

28 Pamela E. Mack, ed. From Engineering Science to Big Science: The NACA and NASA Collier Trophy 

Research Project Winners (Washington, DC: NASA, 1998), p. xi.

29 Henry D. Smyth, “The National Laboratories—Their Role in Atomic Energy Development,” 

Nucleonics (January 1950): 6.

The Golden Age of Research Reactors 

 The 1950s and 1960s represented the golden age of American research reactors, with 193 facilities going critical, compared with only a combined total of 34 

reactors in the years before 1950 and after 1969 (see chart). These reactors formed 

the centerpiece of the American nuclear initiative after World War II and provided 

invaluable research opportunities for American scientists, who began using radiation 

for diverse fields of experimentation. There were a variety of reasons why research 

reactors began to proliferate in the United States during this time. First was that the 

AEC relaxed many of its previously strict standards for those interested in building 

and operating a reactor. Second, new and more abundant supplies of uranium-235 

were becoming available for use as reactor fuel. Third, regulations allowed reactor 

owners to reap the financial rewards from any discoveries made with the reactor. 

Fourth, there was a great desire to learn more about nuclear fission. Scientists knew 

that the true potential of the nuclear reactor could never be realized without a basic 

understanding of the fission process. Fifth, President Eisenhower’s “Atoms for Peace” 

speech in 1953 called for mobilizing experts through an atomic energy agency to 

improve agriculture, medicine, and other peaceful incentives. This proved to be a 

stimulus to the creation of university research reactors. Finally, and perhaps most 

important, there was a remarkable optimism about the scientific results that were 

possible with these rectors. For example, one reactor operator enthusiastically said, 

“The most compelling reason for mounting interest [in research reactors] is...the 

research potential in physics, engineering, biology, and chemistry associated with 

reactor use.”27 These reasons combined to create a surge in momentum for research 

and test reactors. 

 This proliferation of reactors took place in government, academic, and private 

industrial settings. The government was by far the most prolific builder of research 

reactors, with 77 constructed between 1942 and 1962. The second largest sponsor was academia, with 41 reactors built on university campuses across the United 

States. Since this was still a new, secretive, and unproven technology, few corporations assumed the risk in building research reactors, although 18 were built during 

these years.

Research and test reactors were an example of the “big science” infrastructure 

that dominated postwar America. Big science came of age after 1945, patterned 

after the Manhattan Project. Scientists realized that the process of doing science 

was now fundamentally different. This difference was the “increasing prevalence of 

27 Joel W. Chastain, Jr., “The Research Reactor,” U.S. Research Reactor Operation and Use, ed. Joel 

W. Chastain, Jr. (Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, Inc., 1958), p. 1.
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47

Soviet Research And Test Reactors 1946–196133

Name Owner Operator Years Power 

(KW) 

Criticality Date

33 Data compiled from International Atomic Energy Agency, “Nuclear Research Reactors in the 

World,” http://www.iaea.or.at/worldatom/rrdb/. Accessed June 2002.

Russian Research Centre, 

Kurchatov Institute

State Sci. Cntr of Russian Fed. 

Inst. of Th. & Exp Physics

Russian Research Centre, 

Kurchatov Institute

Russian Federation Atomic 

Energy Ministry

Russian Federation Atomic 

Energy Ministry

Russian Federation Atomic 

Energy Ministry

Russian Federation Atomic 

Energy Ministry

Reseach Institute of 

Scientific,Instruments

Russian Academy of 

Sciences

Russian Federation Atomic 

Energy Ministry 

Russian Federation Atomic 

Energy Ministry

Institute for Physics & 

Power Engineering

Research Institute of 

Scientific Instruments

Ministry on Atomic Energy 

of Russian Federation

Russian Federation Atomic 

Energy Ministry

F-1 

TVR 

RPT 

AM-1 

27/BM 

SBR-2 

BR-10 

VRL-02 

WWR-M 

IFR 

(IBR-1) 

27/BT 

FS-1 

VRL-03 

SM 

IR-50

Russian Research Centre, 

Kurchatov Institute

Institute of Theoretical and 

Experimental Physics

Russian Research Centre, 

Kurchatov Institute

Institute of Physics & 

Power Engineering

Institute of Physics & 

Power Engineering

Institute of Physics & 

Power Engineering

Institute of Physics & 

Power Engineering

Institute of Scientific

Instruments

Petersburg Nuclear 

Physics Institute

Russian Federation Atomic 

Energy Ministry 

Russian Federation Atomic 

Energy Ministry

Institute for Physics & 

Power Engineering

Research Institute of 

Scientific Instruments

Research Institute of 

Atomic Reactors

Research & Dev. Inst. 

for Power Engineering

57 

37 

10 

49 

47 

1 

45 

15 

44 

9 

42 

42 

8 

42 

32

12/25/1946 

1/1/1949 

4/1/1952 

6/15/1954 

1/1/1956 

3/1/1957 

6/1/1958 

1/1/1959 

12/29/1959 

12/1/1960 

1/1/1961 

1/1/1961 

1/1/1961 

1/10/1961 

2/20/1961

24 

2,500.00 

10,000.00 

10,000.00 

70,000.00 

150 

8,000.00 

100 

18,000.00 

6 

70,000.00 

0.2 

100 

100,000.00 

50

Ridge in 1952 cost $18 million.30

 There were two other reasons why national laboratories headed the exploration 

into nuclear research. The first was secrecy. Although much of the research generated at governmental facilities is eventually declassified for transfer to industry, as 

it is being produced it often remains classified. This restricted environment, which 

is best suited for a government laboratory, is essential when the research is directly 

tied to national security issues, and nuclear research was squarely in this category. 

American allies like Canada, Britain, and France also began a significant nuclear 

research effort, but the United States knew that the Soviet Union also coveted this 

technology. With scientific knowledge becoming a symbolic and practical weapon 

of the Cold War, any information resulting from nuclear research had to be protected. Although no facility was immune from spies, the U.S. government believed 

that its best chance for controlling the spread of nuclear secrets was at its own laboratories, and not at academic or industrial sites. Second, national laboratories also 

had the luxury of assembling a wide variety of specialists from different disciplines 

that could be brought together for a common goal. The prime example of this was 

the Manhattan Project. Such a vast, complex, yet single-minded goal would have 

been far beyond the capabilities of any single university laboratory. Furthermore, 

since nuclear specialists were all under the control of the AEC, their focus could be 

redirected at the discretion of the government.

 The Soviet Union was quickly gaining a vast nuclear expertise with the help 

of its own research and test reactor program. The first went critical at the Russian 

Research Center at the Kurchatov Institute on December 25, 1946. The Soviets 

had founded this institute three years earlier to develop nuclear weapons, and it 

became the leading postwar Russian research and development organization in the 

field of nuclear energy.31 This reactor was in operation for over 57 years, and most 

of the work on the Soviet nuclear airplane took place there.32 From 1946 to 1961 

(the year that Plum Brook went critical) the Soviet Union built 15 research and test 

reactors. 

30 J. A. Lane, “Technical and Cost Data for Reactor Design,” Nucleonics (April 1954): 13.

31 “Russia: Kurchatov Institute,” found at http://www.nti.org/db/nisprofs/russia/reactor/research/

with/kurchato.htm.

32 Josephson, Red Atom, p. 129.
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49

From MTR to Plum Brook

 America’s first research reactor was built in 1942 at the University of Chicago. 

It was called the Metallurgical Laboratory, which was a code name to disguise the 

nuclear research that was being carried out. 38 There beneath the football field in the 

squash court Enrico Fermi built the world’s first atomic pile, named Chicago Pile 1 

(CP-1). Its research proved that an atomic bomb was indeed possible and eventually 

led to the successful creation of this weapon at Los Alamos.

 In 1946 Argonne National Laboratory, 25 miles west of downtown Chicago, 

was the first government center established to assist in the effort to develop new 

energy sources and to conduct scientific research. Although created after the war, 

Argonne’s nuclear lineage extended back to Fermi, who by this time was considered 

the “architect of the atomic age.”39 Those who worked with Fermi and his research 

reactor at the University of Chicago gained invaluable experience in the field, and 

these were some of the people who began working at Argonne. Inside its red brick 

buildings the Argonne Laboratory carried on the line of “CP” (Chicago Pile) reactors first conceived at the university. With this experience behind them and the new 

38 For an excellent overview of the Metallurgical Laboratory see Jack M. Holl, Argonne National 

Laboratory, 1946–96 (Urbana and Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997), pp. 1–46.

39 “Enrico Fermi: Architect of the Atomic Age,” Nucleonics (January 1955): 70.

Artist’s rendering of a group of scientists led by Enrico Fermi, gathered around the first nuclear chain 

reactor on 2 December 1942. (National Archives and Records Administration NWDNS-326-DV-4 [40])

 Unlike information about the Soviet nuclear airplane program, which American 

journalists based primarily on rumors and speculation, Russian nuclear expertise was 

well documented. For example, the Journal of Experimental and Theoretical Physics 

of the Academy of Sciences of the USSR was a scientific journal published in Russian 

and translated by researchers in the United States. A large majority of its articles 

discussed nuclear science. In 1961 this journal published a total of 324 articles, and 

roughly one-third of them explored nuclear topics.34 One Russian scientist claimed 

that the “artificial production of beams of protons and electrons with enormous 

energy made it possible to investigate and discover a variety of phenomena of fundamental importance for nuclear physics and for all of science.”35

 Americans were well aware of the Soviet progress. In 1959, Walter Zinn, director of Argonne National Laboratory, evaluated Soviet progress in reactor technology 

for the journal Nucleonics. He wrote that Russian technical progress in developing 

power reactors was rapid. He concluded, “Practically all of the principal types of 

reactors under exploration in the USA also are being explored by the USSR.”36 Just 

like the pattern of many other emerging technologies during this period (space 

satellites, nuclear weapons, nuclear aircraft), one measure of the success of the 

American research reactor was how well it compared with its Soviet counterparts. 

America clearly dominated in the sheer number of research and test reactors it had 

built—roughly 120 by 1961 as compared with only 15 in the Soviet Union. But the 

Soviet Union was making important advances with high-flux research reactors. The 

New York Times reported on a new Soviet research reactor that would test materials 

for long-range space voyages with an “intense flux of neutrons.”37 The United States 

worked to keep pace and surpass Soviet achievements with the development of the 

Materials Test Reactor at Idaho Falls, a facility that became a model for the Plum 

Brook reactor. 

34 “Analytic Subject Index to Volume 13,” Soviet Physics JETP 13, 6 (December 1961): 1334–1341, 

a translation of the Journal of Experimental and Theoretical Physics of the Academy of Sciences of the 

USSR.

35 V. I. Veksler, “The Present State of the Problem of Acceleration of Atomic Particles,” Soviet 

Physics Uspekhi 66(1), 1 (September–October 1958): 54, translated by M. Hamermesh from Advances 

in the Physical Sciences of the Academy of Sciences of the USSR.

36 Walter Zinn, “W. H. Zinn Evaluates Russian Reactor Progress,” Nucleonics (March 1959): 104.

37 “Soviet at Work on New Reactor . . . Ultra-High Flux Device,” New York Times (22 March 

1959): 68; Theodore Shabad, “Russian Reactor to Aid Space Trip,” New York Times (10 December 

1967): 71.
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51

By 1953 this school had a curriculum of six four-week courses and had trained over 

700 people from all over the world.44

In December 1945 Wigner and his team began the design of the reactor, which 

was eventually renamed the Materials Testing Reactor. Oak Ridge and Argonne 

completed the design in August 1946 as a joint project. While Oak Ridge was 

principally responsible for the design, Argonne managed the area surrounding the 

reactor tank. John R. Huffman led the Argonne effort, and by March 1950 he 

had finished nearly all of the design for the service buildings, experimental reactor 

ports, irradiated fuel element storage, and the coffins that transported the radioactive materials.45 In July 1949 the Blaw-Knox Construction Company began the 

engineering work, and in May 1950 the Fluor Corporation, Ltd., broke ground. 

Later that year the Phillips Petroleum Company became the operating contractor 

for the reactor. 

The 40-megawatt reactor went critical in March 1952, and it achieved full power 

in May. Its purpose was to test materials for future reactors by bombarding them 

with intense neutron radiation. It had roughly 100 holes for experiments, several of 

which could be used to irradiate reactor components. For example, fuel assemblies 

could be exposed to simulated conditions of temperature, pressure, and coolant.46

Alvin Weinberg, who was at the time chief of physics at Oak Ridge, decided on an 

enriched uranium fuel reactor with river water used as moderator and coolant. The 

core was uranium, sandwiched between plates of aluminum. These plates were surrounded by beryllium, which reflected neutrons and ensured a high neutron flux for 

research purposes.47 The beryllium was also used because there was a high-energy 

reaction with gamma rays that resulted in the production of neutrons. 

One of the difficult challenges of the Materials Testing Reactor was its organization and staffing. After it went critical the Phillips Petroleum Company managed 

all of the reactor operations, including the job of finding qualified people to run 

it. One manager said this was difficult because “No one had previous experience 

in the field.”48 The company tried to simplify the problem by reassigning current 

employees to tackle the challenges of the job. The administration started by filling 

44 Gordon Dean, Report on the Atom: What You Should Know About the Atomic Energy Program of 

the United States (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1953), p. 221.

45 Holl, Argonne National Laboratory, p. 99.

46 John R. Huffman, “The Materials Testing Reactor,” Nucleonics (April 1954): 21.

47 Johnson and Schaffer, Oak Ridge National Laboratory, pp. 32–34.

48 R. L. Doan, “Organization and Staffing the Materials Testing Reactor,” Nucleonics (March 

1953): 10–13.

designation as the lead nuclear laboratory by the newly formed AEC, Argonne was 

poised to shape the future of American nuclear research.

 One essential ingredient to developing a strong nuclear program was the establishment of secluded and safe sites on which to build reactors. Argonne’s director, 

Walter Zinn, wanted to establish a reactor “proving ground” in a remote western 

state. In 1948 he began trying to convince the AEC to support his plans. By March 

1949 the AEC accepted Zinn’s idea and began looking for locations in both Montana and Idaho, later settling on a 400,000-acre location at Idaho Falls. It was at 

Idaho Falls that the AEC assigned Argonne three reactor development projects. The 

most important defense project was the Mark II reactor for the Navy. The design of 

the project eventually shifted to Westinghouse engineers, and in June 1953 the first 

nuclear submarine traveled from the United States’ eastern seaboard to Ireland.40 A 

second reactor project was the Experimental Breeder Reactor (EBR-I), originally 

called CP-4, which was the first attempt to produce nuclear-generated power. On 

20 December 1951 Zinn charted in his notebook, “Electricity flows from atomic 

energy. Rough estimate indicates 45kw.”41 Many argue that this was the first time 

that electricity was ever generated from nuclear power.

Argonne’s third reactor project was the Materials Testing Reactor, which became 

the first large-scale test reactor in the world at what was called the National Reactor Testing Station near Idaho Falls, Idaho. This was a huge reactor range that was 

half the size of Rhode Island.42 This effort was in collaboration with the Oak Ridge 

National Laboratory, which was responsible for the design of the reactor itself.43

Oak Ridge was as important as Argonne for its development of nuclear reactors. 

The Oak Ridge, Tennessee, site was initially used during World War II for various 

atomic bomb-related activities, including plutonium production and the separation 

of uranium-235 from uranium-238. In 1948, it officially became known as the Oak 

Ridge National Laboratory. Eugene Wigner went to Oak Ridge in 1945 with the 

plan to build the nation’s first peacetime research reactor. The Oak Ridge Laboratory later became known for being the home of the AEC’s Reactor Training School. 

40 “Nautilus Awaits Reactor,” Nucleonics (February 1954): 22.

41 Holl, Argonne National Laboratory, p. 99.

42 Robert K. Plumbs, “Big Idaho Reactor Shown by A.E.C.,” New York Times (22 August 1954): 

37.

43 For a history of Oak Ridge see Charles W. Johnson and Charles O. Jackson, City Behind a Fence: 

Oak Ridge Tennessee, 1942–1946 (Knoxville: The University of Tennessee Press, 1981); Leland Johnson 

and Daniel Schaffer, Oak Ridge National Laboratory: The First Fifty Years (Knoxville: The University 

of Tennessee Press, 1994); “History of ORNL Research Reactors,” Box 252, Folder 1, Plum Brook 

Archives.
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Building for a Nuclear Airplane

53

McDougall argued, “From 1789 to 1941 the U.S. government stood relatively aloof 

from science and technology.”51 Even though NACA’s largest yearly budget was $3.1 

million in 1940, it still managed to inform the aviation community of the latest 

advances, as well as make contributions of its own (i.e., the Langley wind tunnel 

in 1931). Nevertheless, the development of new scientific knowledge was an area 

that the government largely stayed out of prior to 1941, instead letting individuals 

and institutions pave the way. But to compete in the new postwar political environment of an intensifying Cold War, and amid concerns about Soviet scientific and 

technological superiority, the United States government transformed itself into a 

key patron of research and development. NACA carried out the aviation arm of this 

work. 

As soon as NACA considered constructing a nuclear test reactor, engineers at 

NACA’s Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory began lobbying to take charge of the 

project.52 According to Lewis historian Virginia Dawson, “The Lewis staff were old 

hands at dealing with the opportunities and disappointments associated with the 

development of nuclear propulsion.”53 Even prior to the dropping of the atomic 

bombs during World War II, Bruce Hicks and Sidney Sheldon (a Lewis Ph.D. 

physicist and chemist respectively) began thinking about the possibilities of nuclear 

energy for aircraft propulsion. Although they were unaware of the Manhattan Project, they knew that the atom would soon be split, and they wrote a memo to NACA 

headquarters requesting permission to explore this new technology. They hoped to 

eventually have an entire nuclear team at Lewis.54

Although Washington was initially reluctant to bring NACA into its inner 

nuclear circle, by 1948 it was clear that the government needed this organization. 

On July 15, 1948, the AEC and NACA agreed to a formal research program. Lewis 

personnel were sent to the Oak Ridge National Laboratory for training, and soon 

the Lewis Laboratory’s strong reputation began spreading to the highest levels of 

51 Walter A. McDougall, . . . The Heavens and the Earth: A Political History of the Space Age, New 

York: Basic Books, Inc., 1985), pp. 75, 132.

52 H. S. Bloomfield and R. J. Sovie, “Historical Perspectives: The Role of the NASA Lewis Research 

Center in the National Space Nuclear Power Programs,” presented at the Conference on Advanced 

Space Exploration and Initiative Technologies, September 4–6, 1991, NASA Technical Memorandum 

105196.

53 Virginia Dawson, Engines and Innovation (Washington, D.C.: NASA SP-4306, 1991), p. 184.

54 Bruce Hicks and Sidney Simon to Addison Rothrock (Acting NACA Executive Engineer), 

“Nature of AERL Research on Nuclear Energy Fuels,” 11 June 1945, 34/17112, NASA Glenn 

Archives.

the jobs for manager, assistant manager, and plant engineer. The three men chosen 

had an average of 18 years with Phillips. The operations branch included five shifts 

of personnel, with 14 people on each shift. Their job was to keep the Materials 

Testing Reactor running day and night. Each of the five shift supervisors had been 

with Phillips an average of ten years. Although the new staff had little experience 

in running a test reactor, they were able to quickly manage the Materials Testing 

Reactor’s experiments. One year after the reactor went critical, there were 12 organizations sponsoring its work. These included Argonne, Oak Ridge, Brookhaven, 

General Electric Company, Westinghouse Electric Corporation, North American 

Aviation, Inc., University of California Radiation Laboratory, Los Alamos Scientific 

Laboratory, California Research and Development Company, California Research 

Corporation, Monsanto Chemical Company, and Tracerlab, Inc. After one decade 

in operation, it had run for 50,000 hours and had performed 20,000 neutron irradiations. 

Perhaps most importantly, the Materials Testing Reactor was extremely influential for all of the test reactors that came after it. Engineers measured its experimental 

value in terms of its neutron flux, which was the number of neutrons a reactor could 

pass through a square centimeter of space. The New York Times praised the Materials 

Testing Reactor for having “a greater neutron flux than any machine in existence.”49

Jack M. Holl, author of the history of Argonne, wrote, “The design of cores and 

fuel elements of virtually every major nuclear reactor built after 1952 was influenced 

by studies conducted with the MTR.”50 One reactor influenced by the Materials 

Testing Reactor design was a new NACA reactor that was in the planning stages 

to support the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program. In the mid-1950s NACA was 

searching for a location for the reactor and found it at the home of the former Plum 

Brook Ordnance Works.

Finding a Location

The Naval Appropriations Bill of 1915 established the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA). The rationale for its creation was a fear that if the 

government did not support aviation research, the nation might lose the initiative 

begun by the Wright brothers and fall behind its European rivals. Prior to World 

War II it did not receive a great deal of government funding or commitment. Walter 

49 Robert K. Plumbs, “Big Idaho Reactor Shown by A.E.C.,” New York Times (22 August 1954): 

37.

50 Holl, Argonne National Laboratory, p. 114.
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sponsored by the Air Force and the AEC to develop a nuclear-powered aircraft 

engine, the Lewis organization had developed unique expertise in the nuclear field. 

Pinkel said, “The Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory now has an extensive program 

on this subject which covers heat transfer, cycle analysis, reactor analyses, materials, 

corrosion, radiation damage, and thermal distortion.”59 NACA agreed with Pinkel, 

and it assigned Lewis the lead role in designing a nuclear reactor facility to evaluate 

aircraft reactor power plant systems and components. 

One of the first steps in the design process was to find a location for the reac59 Benjamin Pinkel memo to Chief of Research, 29 February 1952, NASA-HQ unprocessed 

collection.

This map demonstrates the proximity of local cities to the Plum Brook reactor. (NASA CS_12414)

government.55 New funds became available for Lewis engineers to work with emerging nuclear technology. In 1949 Lewis built a cyclotron for research purposes. This 

was a machine that accelerated charged particles while a magnetic field confined 

them to a circular path. General Electric was the contractor and designed the 60-

inch frequency cyclotron that produced 21-mega-electron-volt deuterons and 42-

mega-electron-volt alpha particles.56 With it Lewis engineers began studying the 

strength of materials that had been subjected to neutron fields. Harold Finger was 

an engineer at Lewis at the time who later became the head of the joint AEC–NASA 

Space Nuclear Propulsion Office (SNPO). He recalled, “There was no question that 

we felt we ought to be able to get involved with any application of nuclear energy 

related to aircraft propulsion.”57 Lewis was the best qualified because of its propulsion and engine expertise, and there was a core of engineers eager to become more 

involved in nuclear propulsion applications.

Several Lewis employees had already been working on issues related to the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program. Frank Rom was an engineer at Lewis who started 

his career there in 1948 working on long-range aircraft. He was a member of a team 

that devised new ways for conventional aircraft to travel long distances, primarily 

for bombing purposes. His team experimented with jet engines and turbo-prop 

engines, but when the nuclear idea surfaced, Lewis reassigned them to work on the 

Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion project. They started by designing some reactors on 

paper to determine their size and weight. Like other researchers, they soon came 

to understand the daunting technical problems. They looked for ways to develop 

a shield that was light and able to protect the pilots and crew from radiation. The 

reactor also had to be crash resistant to ensure the safety of people on the ground. 

After Rom and his team defined the critical factors, they came to a disturbing conclusion—the plane would need to be one million pounds in weight. But, Rom said, 

“We could make any size airplane, we thought. So that didn’t bother us then.”58

Because of the Lewis nuclear expertise, the Cleveland laboratory appeared to be 

the most qualified to take the lead in developing a new test reactor to support development on the atomic airplane. Benjamin Pinkel, then chief of the Materials and 

Thermodynamics Division, wrote a memo in 1952 to officially make the case for 

the Lewis involvement. He said that of the many organizations that were currently 

55 J. F. Victory (Executive Secretary) to Jerome C. Hunsaker (Chairman, NACA), 16 April 1947, 

NASA HQ, Nuclear Powered Aircraft series. 

56 Interview with Jim Blue by Mark D. Bowles, 11 February 2002.

57 Interview with Harold Finger by Virginia Dawson, 4 April 2002.

58 Interview with Frank Rom by Virginia Dawson, 27 September 2002; Frank E. Rom, “Airbreathing 

Nuclear Propulsion: A New Look,” Nuclear News (October 1971): 79.
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keep possession of the Plum Brook land, was an active proponent in bringing the 

reactor to his district. He had worked for several months contacting NACA and 

other officials, promoting the site as an excellent choice for the reactor.64 E. R. 

Sharp, director of the Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory, made the announcement 

official on September 20, 1955. He estimated that the design of the reactor, which 

was then in progress, would be finished by the end of the year, and then construction would start in 1956.65

The AEC’s Reactor Safeguards committee was responsible for reviewing each 

reactor application, and this included granting approval for site selection.66 The 

AEC was reluctant to give NACA the go-ahead to build its reactor at Plum Brook 

because of nearby cities; in this respect Plum Brook was unlike the MTR, which was 

sparsely populated. Although it argued that a less populated site would have been 

better, finally it reluctantly granted its approval.67 In comparison, the Materials Testing Reactor was located in an extremely desolate area of Idaho. 

The NACA reactor would take its place alongside other leading organizations 

that were contributing to the nuclear aircraft program. These included the Convair Division of General Dynamics, which was developing an initial design for the 

airframe of a nuclear bomber. General Electric’s Nuclear Propulsion Division was 

in charge of power-plant development. Convair worked with General Electric to 

solve engine and airframe problems. Pratt & Whitney was responsible for developing the atomic indirect cycle nuclear engines. The Air Force and Lockheed Martin 

also played a role in designing the airplane components, and the Lockheed Nuclear 

Laboratory performed experimental studies on the effects of radiation on materials.68 The Plum Brook reactor was to be far more advanced than Lockheed’s, and 

it was hoped it would provide a significant research tool in helping to realize the 

dream of atomic-powered airplanes. 

64 “Pick Plum Brook for Research Site,” Sandusky Register Star News (20 September 1955).

65 “Plum Brook Ohio Ordnance Site Chosen by NACA for Research Reactor,” Wing Tips 13, 18 

(30 September 1955), NASA-Glenn Research Center Archives.

66 Plum Brook was similar to other nuclear sites. For example, the MTR Engineer Works 

manufactured plutonium during World War II. Manhattan Project officials selected this site of a 

“sparsely populated stretch of struggling orchards, farms, and ranches along the Columbia River” that 

was reminiscent in many ways of the land at Plum Brook prior to its ordnance works. At the MTR 

the government created a new kind of “atomic space,” that it would later emulate in places like Plum 

Brook. Richard White, The Organic Machine (New York: Hill and Wang, 1995), pp. 81–82.

67 George T. Mazuzan and J. Samuel Walker, Controlling the Atom: The Beginnings of Nuclear 

Regulation, 1946–1962 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985), p. 221.

68 “Nuclear Plane Contracts,” Aviation Week (30 March 1959): 29.

tor.60 On September 13, 1955, Lewis officials prepared an extensive site survey for 

NACA.61 Representatives from the laboratory and the Nuclear Development Associates of New York (an independent engineering firm that was consulted for its 

expertise in the use of nuclear energy) examined 19 sites in Ohio and Pennsylvania 

for the reactor facility. The site survey ranked 33 different factors in three main 

categories—safety, cost, and convenience. The decision was narrowed down to two 

facilities—the Plum Brook Ordnance Works and the Ravenna Arsenal. 

Ravenna had also been an ordnance site during World War II and was located 

about 90 minutes east of Cleveland. Plum Brook and Ravenna were equally 

weighted in almost every category. The cost factors were identical, including land, 

availability, and development features. The safety factors were also nearly the same, 

including air and water waste disposal possibilities; isolation from high population 

areas; electricity, water, and communications services; adequate roads; relationship 

to disaster control agencies; protection from sabotage; large area; and a good burial 

ground (this was an unusual category, but nevertheless a human burial ground was 

a factor that was considered, though the reasons behind it were unstated). Ravenna 

actually scored more points in the safety category because it had much better hospital facilities than Sandusky. The final category was convenience, and this is where 

Plum Brook beat out its competition, because it was located slightly closer to the 

Lewis Laboratory. The final score was 98 points for Plum Brook and 95 points for 

Ravenna.62

In September 1955 the New York Times reported on the proposed new facility 

and discussed the reasons for the NACA choice of Plum Brook: it was near Cleveland and the Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory (50 miles); it was in a moderately 

populated area; it had much of the infrastructure required to operate a nuclear 

reactor (roads and security fences left over from the ordnance works); and it was 

already a government-owned facility.63 Sandusky newspapers also announced the 

news to the residents of the area. Reporters speculated that the reactor would cost 

$4.5 million to construct and would be staffed by a team of 50 engineers. NACA 

emphasized that “elaborate safeguards” would be installed to reduce the dangers 

associated with radioactivity, including protecting the air and water supplies from 

contamination. For the most part the community welcomed the reactor. Congressman A. D. Baumhart, who 15 years previously failed in the fight to help farmers 

60 “Plum Brook Station Retention Plan,” 1976, Box 106, Folder 11, Plum Brook Archives.

61 “Site Survey for NACA Research Reactor,” 13 September 1955, Plum Brook Archives.

62 “Preliminary Site Evaluation Chart,” Plum Brook Archives.

63 “Atomic Power for Planes,” New York Times (25 September 1955).
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struction of some of the early supersonic wind tunnels. He was transferred to the 

Lewis Laboratory in 1943 as chief of the wind tunnel and flight division. By 1949 

he was in charge of all Lewis research activities and became associate director three 

years later. Other engineers greatly respected (and some feared) his awesome abilities and his demanding presence. One engineer who later went on to become the 

head of Plum Brook called him “the renaissance man of aircraft.”74 Silverstein was 

convinced that nuclear propulsion would become as revolutionary as the turbojet. 

Silverstein was an active proponent of the atomic plane and welcomed a Lewis 

involvement in the project with the design and construction of the Plum Brook 

nuclear test reactor. NACA began the preliminary design for what became the Plum 

Brook reactor in August 1954 (before the site was selected) and completed it one 

year later.75 Silverstein gave 12 engineers already working at the Lewis laboratory 

in the materials and stress division the task of designing the reactor. Few of them 

had any nuclear experience. Division Chief Benjamin Pinkel, upon learning of the 

new assignment, went to the library and checked out all of the latest textbooks on 

nuclear reactors he could find. After his intensive self-study he began teaching his 

supervisors.76 Theodore “Ted” Hallman had a Ph.D. in nuclear engineering and was 

one of the few who had experience in this field. He worked on the reactor design 

and managed the startup test programs at Plum Brook; he later became its first division chief. Sam Kaufman, an engineer, also worked with Hallman on the design, 

though he had little nuclear training. His “right-hand man” was Alan “Hap” Johnson, who eventually became the head of Plum Brook Station itself. These men also 

augmented their studies by visiting other test reactor facilities at Oak Ridge, Lockheed, and the MTR. Through this process they were able to master the concepts 

and design a unique and powerful test reactor, with an unparalleled emphasis on 

experimental facilities. Johnson confessed, “I didn’t know an alpha particle from a 

gamma ray when we started,” but through study and practical experience he learned 

the field quickly.77

Jim Blue, who headed the Lewis cyclotron recalled that while they were developing cyclotron experiments, the designs for the Plum Brook reactor were under 

way in the same building. When these designers got to the point where they needed 

74 Interview with Alan “Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002.

75 Atomic Energy Commission, “Quarterly Report on Status of Reactor Construction,” 7 November 

1961, Box 1, Folder 5, Plum Brook Archives.

76 Interview with Donald Bogart by Mark D. Bowles, 19 February 2002.

77 Interview with Alan “Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002.

Designing the Reactor 

The traditional view of engineering is that it is simply an applied science whereby 

the engineers inherit knowledge from scientists and use it to create a material artifact. Most engineers know, and historian Walter G. Vincenti has demonstrated, that 

this is a naive viewpoint because there is rarely a defined blueprint to follow in the 

process of designing and creating new technologies.69 Engineering knowledge is not 

a handmaiden to science. It has a domain of its own, with intersecting tentacles into 

the scientific world. The design of the Plum Brook reactor was one such example 

of this unique type of engineering knowledge. Although nuclear science played an 

important role in the design of the reactor, engineers built the facility with an eye 

toward the utilitarian end of a working experimental facility. This divide and distinction between scientific and engineering knowledge was also evident within the 

Plum Brook work culture. Some believed Plum Brook engineers considered physicists to be “damned useless eggheads.”70 This was a common divide with prejudice 

existing in both camps. Hugh Gusterson, in his history of Lawrence Livermore 

Laboratory, wrote that the “physician’s greatest insult [was] likening other physicists 

to engineers.”71 But, Plum Brook was an “engineer’s” reactor with few physicists 

around, and prior to its design the engineers knew little of nuclear science. 

Though engineers dominated the group at Lewis, E. R. Sharp, the director of the 

laboratory from 1947 to 1960, was a lawyer. He served in World War I in the Navy, 

and then became an early employee at Langley Research Center, where he became a 

construction administrator. In 1924 he earned a law degree from William and Mary 

and arrived in Cleveland in 1941 when ground was broken at Lewis. As a lawyer his 

role at the facility was to be an administrator, and he left the engineers to themselves 

to do their work without meddling in the details of their research.72

One of the most talented engineers on his staff was Abe Silverstein. He began 

his NACA career in 1929 as a mechanical engineer at Langley.73 His early expertise 

was altitude wind tunnels, and he is credited with the conception, design, and con69 Walter G. Vincenti, What Engineers Know and How They Know It: Analytical Studies from 

Aeronautical History (Baltimore and London: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1990), pp. 3–6.

70 Interview with Myrna Steele by Mark D. Bowles, 7 February 2002.

71 Hugh Gusterson, Nuclear Rites: A Weapons Laboratory at the End of the Cold War (Berkeley: 

University of California Press, 1996), p. 48.

72 Dawson, Engines and Innovation, p. 20.

73 Robert W. Graham, “Four Giants of the Lewis Research Center,” NASA TM-83642, May 1984. 

“Abe Silverstein Biographical Data,” found at www.grc.nasa.gov/WWWPAO/html/abebio.htm.
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and Edgar Cortright (director of Langley).83 The final exam for the first class of 24 

students was to design a nuclear reactor that operated in space (ironically predictive 

of Plum Brook’s soon to be shifting focus). 

Plum Brook’s main nuclear facility was to be a 60-megawatt light-water-cooled 

and -moderated test reactor. There was also a 100-kilowatt Mock-Up Reactor (a 

research reactor), which was used to aid in the design of experiments that were going 

into the main reactor. The closest comparison to Plum Brook’s main reactor was the 

Materials Testing Reactor. Both were test reactors that were built to produce neu83 This first class was joined by Hubert Allen and Howard Herzig, who worked with Hansen on 

turbines; R. Cavicchi, E. Davison, and Robert English, who worked on fundamental turbines; Dan 

Bernatowicz, Ted Fessler, Sy Lieblein, and Carl Schwenk, who worked with Finger on compressors; 

Tony Diaguila, Pat Donoughe, Herman Ellerbrock, John Livinggood, and Henry Sloan, who worked 

on turbine cooling; and Tom Dallas, Irving Goodman, Eldon Hall, Jim Kramer, Herb Heppler, 

Bill Phillips, Lou Rosenblum, and Cortright, who were from various other divisions around Lewis. 

Dawson, Engines and Innovation, p. 172, n26.

Artist’s conception of Plum Brook with a cutaway for the containment vessel showing the quadrants, 

reactor pressure tank, and lily pad area (1956). (NASA C-1956-42673)

help with instrumentation, they selected Blue and some of his co-workers to assist.78

John Acomb was head of the instrument development section at Plum Brook, and 

he recalled how important Jim Blue’s expertise was in helping out at the reactor. He 

regarded Blue as a mentor. He said, “When I had problems that I couldn’t solve, I 

always called Jim and he would come out to Plum Brook. He was very knowledgeable in nuclear physics.”79

While the reactor was being designed, Abe Silverstein also established a nuclear 

training school at Lewis to provide broad training in nuclear applications. At this 

time the universities were far behind the government in setting up programs to 

train nuclear physicists and engineers. Because there was no university program that 

taught advanced reactor technology, Silverstein designed the Lewis six-month training program to give current engineers the background necessary to work at a reactor 

facility. Though it is unclear exactly how many engineers went through the program, estimates are that there were 4 or 5 classes of 20 to 30 students each.80 Lewis 

selected the students from experienced engineers already working in the compressor 

and turbine group and new “fresh outs” from college. Most of the recent graduates 

had little nuclear background. For example, Joe Savino, who eventually worked at 

the Plum Brook process systems section, had graduated from Purdue University in 

1955 with a degree in fluid mechanics and heat transfer. When Lewis assigned him 

to go to the reactor training program, Savino said, “I didn’t know a nuclear reactor 

from an auto engine.”81

Ben Pinkel and Ted Hallman designed the program, and teachers like Jim Blue, 

Sam Kaufman, Donald Bogart, and Frank Rom contributed to its development 

and operation.82 Lecturers from the Case Institute of Technology were also invited 

to round out the students’ education. Though it was not nearly as well known as 

nuclear schools at Oak Ridge, the nuclear school at Lewis produced its share of 

individuals who later became prominent in their fields: Harold Finger (head of the 

Space Nuclear Propulsion Office), Art Hansen (president of Purdue University), 

78 Interview with Jim Blue by Virginia Dawson, 26 September 2002.

79 Interview with John Acomb by Mark D. Bowles, 13 February 2002.

80 Interview with Donald Bogart by Mark D. Bowles, 19 February 2002.

81 Interview with Joe Savino by Mark Bowles, 21 September 2002.

82 Interview with Jim Blue, conducted by Mark D. Bowles, 11 February 2002.
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rials and devices, and aircraft equipment.86

Plum Brook also had much larger experimental facilities than the MTR that 

were adjacent to the core, so that bigger components could be experimented upon.87

Hap Johnson recalled visiting the MTR several times. He said, “We looked at their 

designs . . . and looked at the shortcomings and didn’t build anything like it.”88 He 

said that the final similarity was that both reactors were designed to produce neutron fields and not power. With the design complete, the Plum Brook nuclear test 

facility was ready for groundbreaking.

Building the Reactor

Several weeks before the official groundbreaking ceremonies, the Sandusky community began preparing for the event. Local notices advertised the much-anticipated occasion, which was to take place at 11 a.m. on September 26, 1956, behind 

the fences at Plum Brook.89 The Sandusky Chamber of Commerce sponsored the 

ceremony. Local community leaders like Congressman A. D. Baumhart from Vermillion believed that the reactor facility would make Sandusky “one of the centers 

of the nation and world for the development and uses of atomic engines.”90

Richard Kruse, president of the Sandusky Chamber of Commerce, was the 

master of ceremonies for the occasion. It began with an invocation given by Reverend Raymond Etzel of St. Mary’s Church and was followed by turning over of the 

symbolic first shovelful of dirt. Edward Sharp, director of the Lewis Laboratory, 

used a silver shovel, and Congressman Baumhart used a silver pick to officially break 

ground. The silver pick and shovel were the same ones used at the groundbreaking 

for the Lewis Laboratory on January 23, 1941.91 The tools had been on display in 

the Lewis cafeteria until they were used again at Plum Brook. 

There was a large and distinguished guest list of government officials and civilians in attendance. After Sharp and Baumhart broke ground, several speakers discussed the role that the Plum Brook reactor would play in aeronautics research. 

86 “NACA Reactor to Test Engine Parts,” Aviation Week (28 March 1955): 13.

87 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.

88 Interview with Alan “Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002.

89 “Top Officials Expected at Nuclear Site,” Sandusky Register Star-News (13 September 1956).

90 A. D. Baumhart, found in, “Break Ground Soon for Nuclear Reactor at Ordnance Plant,”

Sandusky Register Star-News (10 September 1956).

91 “Ground Breaking at Plum Brook,” Wing Tips (10 October 1956): 1.

Abe Silverstein addresses an audience at the September 1956 groundbreaking ceremony for the Plum 

Brook reactor. The address was carried live on local radio stations. (NASA C-1956-43039)

tron beams for experimental purposes. The Plum Brook fuel elements were directly 

patterned on the Materials Testing Reactor’s. They were approximately 4 feet long 

and had 14 plates with uranium enriched to 93.5% uranium-235.84

Though there were similarities, Plum Brook did have unique features. It was 

more powerful than the MTR, with its 40 megawatts of power, compared with 

Plum Brook’s 60 megawatts. Moreover, the emphasis on testing was what made 

Plum Brook different from other reactors at the time.85 Specifically the difference 

was that aircraft engine components could be irradiated to the point of failure without causing any damage to the radiation source itself. Hugh L. Dryden, NACA 

director, said that while the Plum Brook reactor would never generate power, its 

significance would be its radiation source for testing fuels, coolants, structural mate84 Interview with Robert Defayette by Virginia Dawson, 21 September 2002.

85 Interview with Robert DeFayette, conducted by Mark D. Bowles, 29 January 2002.
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that the reactor would be a “firm step forward in the atomic future.”94 The ceremony concluded with a benediction given by the Reverend Robert Peters, who was 

a pastor of the First Congregational Church. 

The gathering then moved to the Plum Brook Country Club for luncheon festivities, where John F. Victory, NACA’s executive secretary, gave a presentation.95

He was no less enthusiastic than the previous speakers had been. He stated that 

the development of the Plum Brook reactor would “presage a new era in aviation 

power.” He looked back at the increase in air speeds per year dating back to the 

Wright brothers’ first flight in 1903. In the years after their historic flight the aver94 A. D. Baumhart’s remarks at the Plum Brook reactor groundbreaking, found in “Break Ground 

for Reactor Here,” Sandusky Register Star-News (26 September 1956).

95 “Top Nuclear Research Officials to Describe New Lab in Erie Co.,” Sandusky Register Star-News 

(25 September 1956).

Aerial view of the construction of the containment vessel dome. (NASA 2005-1198)

Sharp was the first to address the audience. He argued that for the United States to 

maintain its leadership in the skies, it needed to develop an atomic airplane. But 

this necessitated a great deal of research, and he was confident that the Plum Brook 

reactor would help solve many of the problems standing in the way of this development. It would achieve these research goals by simulating the temperatures, stresses, 

corrosion, and radiation conditions that material components would be exposed to 

in a nuclear reactor.92

Abe Silverstein was the next person to address the audience. With great optimism 

he predicted the impact nuclear power would have on aviation. He said, “Despite 

recent important advances in aerodynamic efficiencies for aircraft at supersonic 

speeds, nuclear power is still the ‘shining hope’ for increasing the range of aircraft at 

high speeds and for increasing aircraft ranges to values unobtainable with conventional and special chemical fuels.” He also illustrated the dramatic improvements 

that this would make for long-range bombers. Currently these bombers had to carry 

over 100,000 pounds of fuel for lengthy missions. However, Silverstein proclaimed 

that a “piece of Uranium 235 with the same energy content would weigh less than 

one ounce.”93 This analysis ignored the findings of Silverstein’s own engineers that 

the plane itself would likely weigh over one million pounds because of the radiation 

shielding requirements. Nevertheless, Silverstein went on to espouse its merits. He 

said that the nuclear-powered airplane would have the capability of flying nonstop 

to any place on the earth and then returning. Silverstein and others believed that in 

the future flight durations would no longer be limited by technology, but instead 

would become solely a measure of the endurance of the crew.

Addison M. Rothrock, assistant director of propulsion research at NACA headquarters in Washington, DC, also spoke at the ceremony. He described how various 

nuclear engine components would be tested at the Plum Brook reactor to determine how effective they would be and what improvements were needed to power a 

nuclear airplane. He said that the reactor would be one of the first of its kind and 

that all of the data would be turned over to the Department of Defense. He further 

emphasized to the community members in attendance that the reactor would be 

safe and would not endanger local residents. The final speaker was Congressman 

Baumhart, who echoed these sentiments. He also emphasized safety and proclaimed 

92 “Plum Brook Research Reactor Facility Construction Begun,” Wing Tips (26 September 1956),:1, 

4-5.

93 Abe Silverstein remarks at the Plum Brook reactor groundbreaking, in “Break Ground for 

Reactor Here,” Sandusky Register Star-News (26 September 1956).
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buildings or things like that, but the basic thinking was all done in house.”97 James 

R. Braig and Mabry V. Organ managed construction of the reactor. Braig was from 

the Lewis Contract and Construction Administration Office and worked primarily on the Plum Brook site to direct the workers. Organ was also from the Lewis 

Contract and Construction Administration Office. The rest of the Lewis design 

team frequently commuted the 50 miles to Plum Brook. They began their day early 

in the morning at Lewis, and then all boarded a bus to the reactor. Since this was 

before the interstate was completed, there were numerous small-town back roads 

that had to be traversed to get there. Many of the engineers passed the time by 

playing cards.98 Lewis used construction companies as the major material suppliers. 

Kilroy Structural Steel Company of Cleveland, Ohio, provided all of the steel for 

the reactor buildings, and Hammond Iron Works of Warren, Pennsylvania, built the 

containment vessel. 

97 Interview with Alan “Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002.

98 Interview with John Acomb by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

“Sputnick” on the reactor pressure tank. The misspelled name can be seen on the upper right portion of the 

tank. (NASA C-2003-835)

age gain in air speed per year was only 12 miles per hour. Recently, he said, it had 

increased to a 165 miles per hour gain. But with nuclear power he imagined that 

future speeds could be dramatically improved and that 90-minute flights from San 

Francisco to New York would become commonplace. Victory concluded by praising the “progressive thinking community” that welcomed the reactor with open 

arms. 96

It took nearly five years for the reactor to be built. Construction involved the 

efforts of many Lewis engineers who designed the reactor and then monitored the 

building process. This was one of the defining characteristics of the NACA. Its 

culture was one that insisted on conducting projects in house or with government 

engineers as opposed to using contractors for all aspects of a job. Alan “Hap” Johnson recalled, “That didn’t mean we didn’t go out and hire an architect to do office 

96 John Victory, in “Ground-Breaking Marks Start of New Era in Aviation Power,” Sandusky Register 

Star-News (13 September 1956).

The reactor pressure tank being delivered to Plum Brook by railroad. (NASA C-2003-833)
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Interior view of the construction of the containment vessel. (NASA 2005-2-1197)

The first step in the construction process was to demolish and decontaminate 

the Plum Brook Ordnance Work’s Pentolite Area. It was on these 117 acres of land 

that Lewis engineers chose to build the reactor facility. Construction crews then 

excavated a hole in the ground for the pressure tank. The tank extended approximately 32 feet under ground, and its dimensions were 9 feet in diameter by 32 feet 

high. It was shipped to Plum Brook via railway and transported to the reactor facility on a flatbed truck. The tank was then rolled to a crane, which lifted it into place 

at the center of the unfinished quadrant area. There were several pipes that jutted 

out from the tank. These “test holes” would later be used to transport experiments 

to the reactor core for radiation during its operating cycles. Because it bore a resemblance to the Soviet’s first orbiting satellite, engineers scrawled the word “Sputnik” 

into the side of the pressure tank. This was perhaps a not so subtle reminder of the 

Cold War race to perfect a nuclear airplane.

Starr Truscott, Plum Brook administrator, recalled that while the reactor building was being built there was no official photographer for the facility. Only he and 

one of the construction engineers had personal high-speed cameras of their own. 

Side view of the construction of the containment vessel and main reactor area. (NASA 2005-1203)
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know if it works yet. We don’t know if it works properly. Fix it. Test it.”100 With 

students like Borbash taking his theoretical knowledge and applying it in practical 

situations at the Plum Brook reactor, the Lewis nuclear expertise played a direct role 

in helping to construct the facility and prepare it for operation. He later worked in 

the reactor operations section.

The steel containment building (55 feet above grade, 56 feet below grade, and 

100 feet high) was the large domed structure that surrounded the reactor pressure 

tank, quadrants, and canals. It was designed to prevent any radioactivity from being 

released to the outside environment if an accident were to occur in the reactor. This 

safety precaution was essential because of the nearby communities. Many other 

large reactors did not have such safety features. For example, the MTR had no shield 

because small amounts of contamination could be released into the atmosphere 

without endangering the public, since it was in such a remote region. 

The entire reactor building was roughly 30 feet high, 160 feet in length, and 

100 Interview with Steven Borbash by Mark D. Bowles, 15 February 2002.

First-level floor plan of the reactor building. (Plum Brook Archives)

The other construction engineers used Polaroid cameras to document progress, but 

these did not provide high-quality pictures. One day when the reactor core was 

nearing completion, one of the engineers suggested that it would be nice to actually 

get a picture of the reactor. The only way to do it was to lower someone down into 

the core—someone who knew how to take a good picture. Truscott volunteered. He 

said, “They put me on the end of a crane and dropped me down inside and then 

explained, from above, what they wanted me to take the pictures of.”99

Many of the students who went through Plum Brook training school were 

assigned to the reactor to assist during construction. For example, Steven Borbash 

graduated with an engineering degree from Ohio University in 1958. That summer 

he applied to Lewis Research Center and became a student at the reactor training 

program. By 1959 he had completed the program and moved to the Plum Brook 

reactor. He recalled that he was handed a roll of blueprints, a hardhat. and tools 

and was told, “This is your project. This part of the reactor is installed but we don’t 

99 Interview with Starr Truscott by Virginia Dawson, 21 September 2002.

Artist’s rendering of the proposed layout of the Plum Brook reactor, along with support buildings and 

laboratories (1957). (NASA C-2003-818)
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73

behind thick windows. To the east was the primary pump house. This contained the 

pumps, heat exchangers, and ion exchangers that were used for the primary cooling 

water system. The primary loop carried water from the heat exchanger to the reactor 

and back. The heat exchanger itself was a shell type that ensured that the primary 

water (which could be radioactive) never made contact with the secondary water, 

which was returned to the cooling tower or escaped into the environment. A secondary loop sent water from the heat exchanger to the service equipment building. 

A final loop took water from the heat exchanger to the cooling tower. The cooling 

tower and two overhead tanks were in the northeast corner of the reactor site.

Between the cooling tower and the main reactor building was the service equipment building. Softening, filtering, and deionizing equipment was stored here. It 

also contained air compressors, electrical control equipment, and diesel generators 

to power the reactor if the electricity was cut off for some reason. The Ohio Edison 

Company maintained the electrical substation, southeast of the service equipment 

building. 

East of the hot laboratory was the fan house. This contained all of the ventilating fans for the containment building. Over 13,000 cubic feet of air could be discharged per minute after it was filtered through the exhaust stack. Directly to the 

south of the fan house was the hot retention area, where the radioactive water from 

the facility was stored. It consisted of a one million-gallon “cold basin” where water 

could be kept for the canals or quadrants. In addition there were eight hot retention tanks with capacities of 64,000 gallons each, which could also hold radioactive 

water. Though very large, these basins paled in comparison to a 10 million-gallon 

earthen basin located in the southwest corner of the fenced-in area around the reactor facility. This provided emergency water storage. Also in this southwest corner 

area was the effluent control station. Surface water and wastewater were collected 

here in the culverts and ditches, and the flow rate could be controlled with a series 

of flumes. 

 Since weather was a potential danger to the operations at the facility, engineers 

dedicated two structures to predicting when any threatening storms might approach 

the area. The first was a weather station by the southwest corner of the hot laboratory. It consisted of a 150-foot collapsible tower, and it provided the reactor staff 

with detailed meteorological reports. The second weather structure was a 100-foot 

radar tower located west of the reactor building. This also provided advanced storm 

warning. Storms were considered one of the many potential hazards of operating a 

nuclear reactor. 

However, a far greater threat than Mother Nature loomed on the horizon—political change. As the construction of the reactor progressed, the Plum Brook engineers 

were confident that they were building a valuable facility that would become an 

important, long-used, national asset for both NACA and the Aircraft Nuclear Pro150 feet wide. It comprised four stories, two above ground and two below. Additional facilities included the reactor control room and offices on a mezzanine that 

extended along the north and west walls. A locker room and a shower were near 

by for personnel who wanted to change their clothes. The final main area of the 

reactor building was the Mock-Up Reactor, which was a low-power reactor used to 

verify experiment properties before insertion into the larger reactor. This was a very 

important addition to the Plum Brook facility (its significance is discussed in the 

chapter on experimentation).

Adjacent to the reactor on the west side was the office and laboratory building. 

It contained an engineering management division, a chemistry laboratory, and a 

health safety office.101 To the south was the hot laboratory, a 40-foot by 70-foot 

area for the handling and study of radioactive materials. A canal extended from 

the quadrants to the back of the hot laboratory so that experiments could be transferred in underwater casks from the reactor for analysis in the laboratories. As an 

additional precaution the area had 72-inch-thick concrete walls. Engineers analyzed 

the experiments here with claw-like manipulator arms while they safely watched 

101 Interview with William Stokes by Mark D. Bowles, 23 January 2002.

The Plum Brook reactor nearing completion. (NASA 2005-1201)
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by the Senate.106 According to the Los Angeles Times this made the nation’s efforts in 

space more political and gave “the President overriding power over the agency.”107

NASA, and the centers under its control like Lewis and Plum Brook, became much 

more vulnerable to the winds of political change. With the political winds soon 

changing from the Republican Eisenhower to the Democratic Kennedy administration, and an intensified focus from aeronautics to aerospace, would there be a future 

for the nuclear airplane? 

Setbacks to the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program were mounting. In 1958 

President Eisenhower informed Congress that there was no national urgency to 

the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program, and as a result he cut funding back to 

$150 million per year. In 1960, Herbert York, the first director of research and 

engineering at the Pentagon, told a House Defense Appropriations Subcommittee 

that “a nuclear-powered bomber with suitable operational characteristics probably 

lies beyond 1970.”108 His testimony was noteworthy because previous estimates 

from 1959 had predicted that a nuclear airplane would be flying in three to five 

years.109 In his memoirs, York argued that the haste with which the United States 

had launched the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program had played a large role in 

its demise. He wrote, “The political pressure to put a plane in flight as soon as possible eventually proved fatal to the program. The part of the program which was 

supposed to develop reactor materials had by no means reached the point where it 

could be certain of coming up with something suitable.”110

Another nuclear airplane setback was the success of traditionally fueled airplanes. 

The advanced capabilities of chemical propulsion enabled them to begin performing at levels that were once thought to be achievable only by a nuclear airplane. 

Bombers were now able to fly to Moscow and back, and intercontinental ballistic 

missiles armed with small nuclear warheads could be launched from the United 

106 Interview with Hank Pfanner by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002. Interview with Alan 

“Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002; Interview with Starr Truscott by Virginia 

Dawson, 21 September 2002.

107 “Conferees Agree on Space Agency,” Los Angeles Times (16 July 1958): 6.

108 Herbert York, quoted in Ford Eastman, “York Says Useful Nuclear Plane May Not Be Flown 

Before 1970s,” Aviation Week (18 April 1960): 27.

109 J. S. Butz, Jr., “Nuclear Plane Construction Feasible Now,” Aviation Week (30 March 1959): 

86.

110 Herbert York, Race to Oblivion: A Participant’s View of the Arms Race (New York: Simon and 

Schuster, 1970), p. 63.

pulsion program. But by the time they had completed the reactor, neither NACA 

nor the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program would be in existence. Would Plum 

Brook share this fate?

The End of NACA and the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion Program 

 In October 1957 the Soviet Union shocked the world by launching and orbiing Sputnik, the first manmade satellite. Its dim blinking in the nighttime sky as 

the spacecraft passed over the United States made the Cold War seem more real. It 

also created a heightened sense of urgency that America had to do everything in its 

power to keep up. Partly, this entailed a deepening of its commitment to protecting the space above the country. No longer could Americans ensure their safety by 

simply patrolling the skies. Military and scientific supremacy now meant voyaging 

into and controlling space. Significant change was on the horizon.

The Plum Brook reactor was a NACA project, and this institution was now in 

trouble. Though NACA was considered one of the top institutions in the world 

for aeronautical research, the most urgent research needs for the future appeared 

in space, not aviation. What most observers claimed the nation needed was a new 

agency that was a “NACA in space.”102 But NACA as constituted was not equipped 

to achieve these higher goals. Some in Congress and the military believed that the 

agency was too conservative and unimaginative.103 Throughout his presidency, 

Eisenhower had been reducing NACA budgets, and the organization as a whole 

was conservative and skeptical about venturing into space-related work.104 Less than 

one year after Sputnik, NASA, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 

replaced NACA. NASA’s new mission was to perform basic research and development for military and civil space exploration programs.105

NACA employees knew that this was a significant change for Plum Brook 

because NASA, unlike NACA, was a political agency that was headed by a political 

appointee, who was nominated by the president of the United States and confirmed 

102 “NACA in Space,” Washington Post (29 January 1958): A18.

103 Michael Gorn, “Who was Hugh Dryden and Why Should We Care?,”eds. Virginia P. Dawson 

and Mark D. Bowles Realizing the Dream of Flight (Washington, DC: NASA SP-2005-4112, 2005), 

pp. 182-183.

104 McDougall, The Heavens and the Earth: A Political History of the Space Age, p. 164.

105 Ford Eastman, “NACA Wins Approval as Space Agency,” Aviation Week (21 July 1958): 18; 

Robert Hotz, “NACA to Spearhead U.S. Space Drive,” Aviation Week (7 April 1958): 28.
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77

sively thick and heavy shields, a nuclear airplane could crash anywhere. Gary Snyder, 

assistant chief of the Plum Brook project engineering office, recalled, “having [the 

possibility of] that plane crash was more than people could stand. Although I don’t 

know that with an absolute certainty, I would guess that that was very high on the 

list of reasons why the project never came to fruition.”117 While environmental contamination was one significant drawback, the inability to protect the crews from the 

radiation was the most significant safety concern that was not solved.118 It became 

clear in 1961 that the government was about to terminate the nuclear airplane program. But questions remained. What should it do with the infrastructure left over 

from the project? Nowhere was the answer to this question more eagerly awaited 

than at Plum Brook, where the reactor’s future was in jeopardy even before its first 

experiment began.

Overview and Timeline of the United States Aircraft 

Nuclear Propulsion Program119

1946 The Air Force begins funding the Nuclear Energy for the Propulsion of Aircraft 

(NEPA) program, which was designed to prove the feasibility of nuclear-powered aircraft flight. Fairchild Engine & Aircraft Company becomes the project 

manager at the AEC’s Oak Ridge laboratory. Consultants from aircraft engine 

manufacturers and universities participate. 

1948 The AEC establishes the Lexington Project at the Massachusetts Institute of 

Technology with the same goal as the NEPA program. It recommends continuing the project. 

1949 The Oak Ridge AEC laboratory establishes a nuclear aircraft propulsion research 

program. A technical advisory board reviews the NEPA program and recommends continuance. 

1950 Although the Lexington Project and NEPA both concluded that nuclear-powered flight was possible, but concluded it would be difficult and expensive to 

achieve. Scientists predict that it would take 15 years and over $1 billion to 

achieve its goals. The Air Force and the AEC phase out both of these programs 

and form the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion (ANP) program. Its objectives are to 

develop the technology of reactor materials, shielding, power-plant, and aircraft 

design to the point where feasibility can be established. Because of a change in 

top management, Fairchild is relieved of it duties in the project. 

117 Interview with Gary Snyder by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

118 J. Newell Stannard, Radioactivity and Health, A History (Virginia: Battelle Memorial Institute, 

1988), p. 1221.

119 Text adapted from “U.S. Nuclear Powered Aircraft Program,” Aviation Week (1 December 1958): 

29; “Chronology of Nuclear Program Reorientations,” Aviation Week (19 December 1960): 56.

States and accurately hit targets in the Soviet Union.111 It also turned out that the 

reports stating that the Soviet Union was flying its own nuclear aircraft were untrue. 

Paul R. Josephson in his recent history of Soviet nuclear power wrote that far more 

is known about the American nuclear airplane program because most of the Soviet 

documents relating to it remain classified. But, he said, “There is no doubt that 

the Soviet’s program paralleled the United States’s, even if it was somewhat less 

extensive.”112 The United States never had a plane powered by a nuclear reactor, and 

neither did the Soviet Union. 

Rumors of a Soviet nuclear airplane continued until 1959. Many of those 

responsible for promoting them were the officials from companies who were receiving nuclear airplane contracts. For example, the Nuclear Propulsion Division of the 

General Electric Company carried out most of the work for the nuclear airplane.113

Officials from this company were also some of the last to give up the Cold War technology race as a rationale for continuing the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program. 

In March 1959, John W. Darley, Jr., manager of the operational analysis section of 

the General Electric Nuclear Propulsion Division, sent a long letter to President 

Eisenhower, informing him about the urgency of the program and the Soviet threat. 

This report was later published in Aviation Week in its entirety.114 Leonard Harmon, 

a retired colonel from the United States Air Force who also worked in the General 

Electric nuclear division, reiterated Cold War dangers. He proclaimed, “There is 

every reason to believe the Russians are flying nuclear-powered aircraft.”115 But the 

nuclear aircraft never materialized, and the Soviet nuclear airplane remained more 

significant as a propaganda tool (perhaps used more by the United States aviation 

industry than the Soviets themselves) than as a military weapon. 

A further concern was the safety issues surrounding the atomic plane. In 1960 

one report stated that the biological problems associated with the atomic planes 

were considered a “limiting factor in the development of a practical nuclear-powered aircraft.”116 There was always a chance that a flying reactor would crash, and 

whereas ground-based reactors could be built in sparsely populated areas with mas111 Interview with Dick Schuh by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

112 Josephson, Red Atom, p. 129.

113 “Nuclear Plane Contracts,” Aviation Week (30 March 1959): 29.

114 “GE Official Details Nuclear Plane Need,” Aviation Week (16 March 1959): 67–84; “GE Official 

Urges Nuclear Plane Acceleration, Cites Soviet Effort,” Aviation Week (23 February 1959): 27.

115 Leonard Harmon quoted in, “Soviet Nuclear Bomber,” Aviation Week (9 February 1959): 28.

116 Craig Lewis, “Nuclear Plane Radiation Hazards Defined,” Aviation Week (25 January 1960): 

113.
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78

1951 The objectives of the ANP program expand to include the demonstration of 

nuclear-powered flight. Development begins on two types of engines. The first 

is assigned to General Electric to develop direct-cycle engines, and the second is 

assigned to Pratt & Whitney to develop an indirect-cycle engine. 

1952 The decision is made to build an experimental nuclear engine suitable for flight 

testing in the Convair B-36. A flight date is predicted for 1956. A direct-cycle 

engine is chosen for this experiment, and General Electric creates a separate ANP 

division and begins working on the project six days a week. 

1953 The Convair-GE experimental flight test program is canceled because of the 

demands of Defense Secretary Charles E. Wilson. The General Electric directcycle development work continued through Air Force Secretary Harold Talbot’s 

diversion of unallocated funds to the project. The Pratt & Whitney work on 

the indirect-cycle engine is also terminated because of the engine’s poor growth 

potential. 

1954 The Air Force begins its WS-125A nuclear bomber program, which is a subsonic cruise bomber with supersonic dash capabilities. Pratt & Whitney and 

General Electric are the engine contractors, and Lockheed and Convair are the 

airframe contractors. 

1955 Contractors are split into two engine-airframe teams for the WS-125A competition. Convair and GE are one team, and Pratt & Whitney and Lockheed are the 

other. The Navy also begins independent nuclear-powered seaplane studies. 

1956 The Air Force cancels the WS-125A competition. NACA breaks ground on a 

nuclear test reactor at Plum Brook. 

1957 In May, Pratt & Whitney completes its Connecticut Aircraft Nuclear Engineering Laboratory (CANEL) under an AEC contract. In August, the Air Force 

cancels Pratt & Whitney’s work on the circulating fuel reactors. CANEL drastically cuts back its operations. AEC continues to support Pratt & Whitney on 

a very small scale. 

1958 In March, President Eisenhower informs Congress that there is no urgency in 

the nuclear aircraft propulsion program. He rejects an effort to accelerate the 

program, but authorizes $150 million per year to continue the program with 

no clear-cut goal. In June, the Air Force proposes another weapon system, the 

CAMEL nuclear aircraft, to provide continuous airborne alert, missile launching, and a low-level penetration capability. 

1959 Convair wins the CAMEL airframe competition. Herbert York, director 

of defense research and engineering, rejects the subsonic CAMEL program 

because he believes that a militarily useful aircraft must be capable of sustained 

supersonic flight. 

1960 The Air Force goes ahead with plans to build two Convair NX-2 subsonic 

experimental nuclear-powered aircraft. The first flight was estimated for 1965. 

General Electric and Pratt & Whitney engine projects continue. 

1961 John F. Kennedy terminates the nuclear airplane program. 

Overview and Timeline of the United States Aircraft 

Nuclear Propulsion Program
Going Critical with NERVA

On 21 March 1961, with the Plum Brook reactor nearly complete, community leaders, NASA, and AEC representatives held a massive press conference to 

celebrate its opening. More than 60 journalists and radio and television reporters 

met at the site to learn about its role in supporting the nuclear airplane. NASA 

provided data on the importance of the program, the value of Plum Brook, and the 

uniqueness of the facility. Over the next few days journalists reported the stories 

in newspaper articles praising the significant role this local facility was to play in 

an important national program. The Chillicothe Gazette wrote, “The Plum Brook 

research nuclear reactor, to be used in efforts to develop an atomic airplane, has 

received the Atomic Energy Commission’s approval to go into operation.”1

 Soon it 

appeared that this quiet community would be a part of the leading edge of nuclear 

research for airplanes. 

However, just seven days after the open house, President John F. Kennedy officially terminated the nuclear airplane program. On 28 March 1961 Kennedy delivered a message to Congress on the defense budget, which was also informally known 

as the “kiss of death for the atomic plane.” He said that despite the time and money 

(15 years and $1 billion) that NACA and NASA sank into the project, “the possibility of achieving a militarily useful aircraft in the foreseeable future is still very 

remote.” Kennedy planned to “terminate development effort” on the nuclear airplane immediately.2

 John Acomb, one of the Plum Brook engineers, recalled how 

astonished he was at the government’s sudden cancellation of the program. He said, 

“They just cancelled the whole program. Bang. And it was gone.”3

Two months later, in May 1961, Kennedy delivered his famous “Urgent National 

1

 “Reactor for A-Plane Gets Okay,” Chillicothe Gazette (8 March 1961).

2

 John F. Kennedy, “Special Message to the Congress on the Defense Budget, March 28, 1961,” 

Record # 12508 “Selected Statements of President Kennedy on Defense Topics December 1957 – 

August 1, 1962,” NASA HQ Archives.

3

 Interview with John Acomb by Mark D. Bowles, 8 July 2002.

3

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was by itself significantly more powerful than all of these other reactors combined. 

Plum Brook represented one of the most powerful test reactors ever constructed, 

anywhere in the world. Scientists and politicians hoped that once they shifted Plum 

Brook’s focus, it would play an important role in realizing the dream of a nuclear 

rocket. This chapter examines the nation’s shifting focus on the nuclear rocket and 

describes the NASA engineers’ efforts that took the Plum Brook facilities critical in 

order to conduct research in support of this program. 

Genesis of the Nuclear Rocket Program

The idea of a nuclear rocket to propel craft into space first appeared in science 

fiction. In the early part of the twentieth century one story prophetically described a 

ship traveling through space, powered by the disintegration of uranium. However, it 

would be several decades before scientists brought these fictional speculations closer 

to reality. In 1938 German physicists Otto Hahn and Fritz Strassman at the Kaiser 

Wilhelm Institute for Chemistry designed a tabletop device that split a uranium 

atom. One year later Krafft Ehricke published a paper in Germany stating that a 

higher specific impulse could be obtained by heating hydrogen by fission rather 

than by chemical combustion.7

Research on nuclear propulsion did not begin in the United States until near the 

end of World War II. Beginning in 1944, several researchers at Los Alamos, North 

American Aviation, and Douglas Aircraft Company began to suggest the possibility of using the thrusting power from nuclear blasts as a method to propel rockets.8

These early discussions all pointed out the difficult problems that had to be solved, 

including the high heat-transfer rates and the high temperatures associated with a 

nuclear rocket. In 1947 a team of engineers and physicists at Johns Hopkins University’s Applied Physics Laboratory concluded that liquid hydrogen would be the best 

propellant for a nuclear rocket. They argued that extensive materials research was 

required to build an efficient pile and construct a rocket that could withstand the 

radiation. This early enthusiasm for nuclear rocket technology ended with a report 

published by North American Aviation’s Aerophysics Laboratory in 1947. It determined that no currently known material could withstand the 5700oF operating 

temperature of the reactor. According to Robert W. Brussard, “the field languished, 

7

 Keith Boyer, “Nuclear Rockets” AIAA Paper No. 67-981 (1967).

8

 Robert W. Brussard, “Nuclear Rocketry—The First Bright Hopes,” Astronautics (December 

1962): 32–35.

Needs” speech before a joint session of Congress about landing a man on the Moon 

before the decade was out. He said, “Now it is time to take longer strides—time 

for a great new American enterprise—time for this nation to take a clearly leading 

role in space achievement, which in many ways may hold the key to our future on 

Earth.” He wanted the entire nation to commit itself to achieving this goal quickly 

and efficiently, before its rival superpower, the Soviet Union. What is often forgotten 

about this speech is that Kennedy also advanced an even more compelling dream. 

Though he had just canceled the nuclear airplane, he now called for increased funding to develop a nuclear rocket. He said, “This gives promise of someday providing 

a means for even more exciting and ambitious exploration of space, perhaps beyond 

the Moon, perhaps to the very end of the solar system itself.”4

Along with the nuclear airplanes, the United States had also been working on a 

nuclear space initiative since 1955, and this was the brave new world that Kennedy 

wanted to explore. Many high-ranking officials shared his optimism. Some believed 

nuclear propulsion to be the single best hope for space exploration. Hugh Dryden, 

NASA’s deputy administrator, asserted, “We are confident that the future of extensive manned exploration of the moon and planets rests on the mission capabilities 

afforded by nuclear propulsion systems.” Others thought that the value of nuclear 

propulsion went beyond scientific curiosity. Harold B. Finger, manager of NASA’s 

Space Nuclear Propulsion Office, said, “I believe [nuclear propulsion] is essential to 

. . . this country’s technological stature in the world.”5

If President Kennedy was the one to essentially kill the nuclear airplane program and Plum Brook’s planned contribution to it, he was also the one to grant 

the nuclear initiative a new life and Plum Brook a new mission. Like the nuclear 

airplane, the nuclear rocket also required extensive materials research in a radioactive environment to achieve flight readiness. NASA chose to answer this challenge 

by utilizing the two nearly completed reactors at Plum Brook—a test reactor and a 

research reactor. Just 20 days after Kennedy gave his Urgent National Needs speech, 

the Plum Brook test reactor went critical, and it became the second most powerful American test reactor facility. In a survey of all 48 research reactors licensed by 

the AEC in 1968, the National Academy of Sciences found that their combined 

power production was 45 megawatts.6

 Plum Brook’s test reactor at 60 megawatts 

4

 John F. Kennedy, “Urgent National Needs,” 25 May 1961 (Washington, DC: Department of 

State, 1961).

5

 Dryden and Finger quotes found in Ford Eastman, “Bold Action is Urged on Nuclear Rockets,” 

Aviation Week (6 March 1961): 29.

6

 National Academy of Sciences, Subcommittee on Research Reactors Committee on Nuclear 

Science, National Research Council, “Survey of Research Reactors,” 1970, Box 252, Folder 2, Plum 

Brook Archives.
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impulse was an indicator of the efficiency of the rocket by measuring the distance in 

miles per gallon that was possible with a hydrogen fuel propellant. In theory, nuclear 

rockets produced propulsion by directing cold liquid hydrogen into a hot reactor.15

This caused the liquid hydrogen to expand into a high-pressure gas, resulting in a 

very high specific impulse. By exhausting the liquid hydrogen through a nozzle, 

engineers believed that between 50,000 and 70,000 pounds of engine thrust was 

possible.

To determine the specific impulse for any rocket, the thrust is divided by the 

propellant flow, and the higher the number, the more efficient the rocket. Some 

considered this the most important part of the nuclear rocket. The heated hydrogen 

was the best of all possible fuels because it had the lowest molecular weight. This 

low weight meant a higher velocity when it went through a nozzle jet.16 When the 

high degree of heat in the reactor combined with the low weight of the hydrogen 

fuel, the resulting specific impulse was twice that of conventional chemical rockets. 

This potential made the technical challenges associated with the construction of a 

nuclear rocket appear to be well worth the effort. However, though nuclear rockets 

had greater power, chemical rockets were far better understood and immediately 

15 Paul G. Johnson, “Nuclear-Rocket Applications,” Astronautics (December 1962): 22–27.

16 Interview with Frank Rom by Virginia Dawson, 27 September 2002.

Diagram of a basic nuclear rocket. (NASA CS_18292)

died, and was all but buried with full military honors by 1952.”9

 Brussard had joined with Oak Ridge National Laboratory to work on the Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion program in the early 1950s, and he became one of the 

most important people involved in resurrecting the nuclear rocket program. Initially he was disappointed to find that not only was no one aggressively working on 

nuclear rockets, but there was “active antipathy and ridicule from many quarters for 

such an idea.”10 Brussard and others strove to open up the field of nuclear rockets 

and explore its potential. Eugene Wigner, the director of Oak Ridge, and John von 

Neumann, at Princeton University and the Institute for Advanced Study, became 

influential proponents. Because of their advocacy the Air Force began investigations 

with the assistance of Los Alamos, Livermore, and Oak Ridge laboratories. Soon 

the efforts to develop a nuclear rocket as an intercontinental ballistic missile evolved 

into a nuclear rocket for space exploration. 

In November 1955 the Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory began work on a 

nuclear rocket propulsion program under the code name Rover.11 Though not as 

urgent a program in the years before the Sputnik launch, it would soon become one 

of the important initiatives in the Cold War’s space race with the Soviet Union. One 

month after Sputnik the Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory in Cleveland held an 

important conference that “signaled Lewis’ transition to a position of leadership in 

space nuclear power and propulsion technology.”12 At the conference Lewis engineers outlined key feasibility issues, areas that required technology advances, and 

reasons why nuclear propulsion was so important to the nation.13 After Congress 

established NASA in October 1958 the Rover program became a joint operation 

between NASA and the AEC, and Lewis maintained an important role. 

One important advantage of the nuclear rocket over chemical rockets was its 

high “specific impulse.” Rockets operate by expelling gas out of a nozzle.14 Specific 

9

 Ibid., p. 33.

10 Ibid.

11 “Nuclear Rocket Being Developed by a New Team at Los Alamos,” New York Times (10 September 

1956), 1; Raemer E. Schreiber, “Los Alamos’ Project Rover,” Nucleonics 16, 7 (July 1958): 70–72.

12 H. S. Bloomfield and R. J. Sovie, “Historical Perspectives: The Role of the NASA Lewis Research 

Center in the National Space Nuclear Power Programs,” presented at the Conference on Advanced 

Space Exploration and Initiative Technologies, September 4–6, 1991, NASA Technical Memorandum 

105196.

13 Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory, “NACA 1957 Flight Propulsion Conference,” 22 November 

1957, proceedings found in NASA TM X-67368 and TM X-61622.

14 James Dewar, To the End of the Solar System: The Story of the Nuclear Rocket (Lexington, KY: 

University of Kentucky Press, 2004), p. 252.
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An advertisement for NERVA, the Nuclear Engine for Rocket Vehicle Application program. Aerojet 

General and Westinghouse were primary contractors to NASA-AEC Space Nuclear Propulsion Office. 

(Harry Finger Collection) 

available for use in space. Because of the technical challenges, NASA did not use a 

nuclear stage in the Apollo program.17

In one important way the nuclear rocket promised to be an easier undertaking 

than the nuclear airplane. If the nuclear rocket expelled radioactivity into space, 

engineers did not have to worry about it contaminating Earth or the crew. This was 

not true with the nuclear airplane, since the plane was continually flying over highly 

populated areas and the radioactivity had the potential to penetrate the shielding 

and harm those on board.18 To help eliminate the concerns about a rocket malfunction during liftoff, engineers designed nuclear rockets to launch with traditional 

chemical propulsion systems, and then ignite the nuclear systems only when safely 

in space. Environmentally, the nuclear rocket appeared to be a much safer alternative. Technically, it promised to have the propulsive capability to enable astronauts 

to journey to Mars.19 However, some environmentalists remained concerned about 

what might happen if the rocket were to lose control prior to reaching orbit and 

crash into the Earth. Eventually these voices of protest would become louder, and 

the nuclear proponents would not be able to ignore them. But for the time being, 

the nation pressed forward with its plans for a nuclear rocket. 

In 1959 NASA and the AEC placed KIWI-A, a test reactor named for a flightless bird, on a flatbed truck in Jackass Flats, Nevada. It became the first full-scale 

firing of a nuclear rocket.20 KIWI-A was the first of three reactors that were ground 

tested, and KIWI-B included an additional five.21 These KIWI reactors helped to 

demonstrate the feasibility of a future nuclear rocket engine. The reactors could 

be quite dangerous. When fully operational, they could deliver a lethal radiation 

dose to a human standing 20 feet away in 0.1 second.22 Pleased with the success 

of the program and under pressure from Congress to spend more funds on it, the 

AEC allocated an additional $11 million from other projects for the Rover.23 Many 

17 Interview with Harold Finger by Virginia Dawson, 4 April 2002.

18 Interview with Jim Blue by Mark D. Bowles, 11 February 2002; Interview with Jim Blue by 

Virginia Dawson, September 2002.

19 Interview with Frank Rom by Virginia Dawson, 27 September 2002.

20 Ted Sell, “Atom Rocket Engine Test Successful,” Los Angeles Times (21 June 1959): 1; “Pentagon 

Pushes Atom-Powered Rocket Engine,” Wall Street Journal (17 February 1958): 4.

21 Raemer E. Schreiber, “Kiwi Tests Pave Way to Rover,” Nucleaonics 19, 4 (April 1961): 77–79.

22 J. Newell Stannard, Radioactivity and Health, A History (Virginia: Battelle Memorial Institute, 

1988), p. 1234. 

23 “AEC Diverts Funds from Other Projects to Use More to Develop Nuclear Rocket,” Wall Street 

Journal (9 March 1960): 5.
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• Argonne National Laboratory was responsible for reviewing and evaluating nuclear rocket concepts that might differ from those developed at Los 

Alamos.

The Office of Nuclear Systems in NASA had responsibilities different from those 

of SNPO. Its functions included program review, the establishment of program 

objectives, budget preparation, technical decision review, and all contracting. The 

following locations assisted in this work:

• Marshall Space Flight Center was responsible for technical direction with 

its Nuclear Vehicles Project Office. It also managed the contractor work of 

Lockheed Missiles and Space Co. 

• Lewis Research Center conducted a large part of NASA’s program of 

advanced research and technology for nuclear-rocket propulsion. It also 

reported to SNPO for analysis, experimental, and research support.

In the fall of 1960 the NERVA project officially began. SNPO began taking 

bids from industry to build the NERVA engine and selected Aerojet-General Corporation in July 1961. It chose Westinghouse Electric Corporation’s Astronucular 

Laboratory to build the reactor itself, and it based the design on the KIWI test reacAbe Silverstein, director of NASA’s Lewis Research Center, addresses an audience about the benefits of 

nuclear propulsion. (NASA 1961_58357)

believed that Rover would become the answer for successful future space exploration. A second nuclear space application also began during this period, SNAP (the 

Space Nuclear Auxiliary Program). Its goal was to develop a nuclear generator that 

provided electrical power for a spacecraft or satellite.24

In 1960 NASA renamed Rover to NERVA (Nuclear Engine for Rocket Vehicle 

Application).25 The Lewis Laboratory was going to play an important role in the 

NERVA program, with an assignment to help design and test an engine. Lewis engineers believed that the Plum Brook reactor, still under construction at that point, 

could be vital in this testing effort, even though it was designed to work primarily on 

the nuclear airplane. But a problem was developing at Plum Brook in the late 1950s. 

The nuclear airplane was losing support, and some members of Congress asked why 

it was spending funds on Plum Brook. They attacked NASA and the AEC and criticized them for failing to coordinate their efforts. Congressman Clarence Cannon, a 

Democrat from Missouri and Chairman of the House Appropriations Committee, 

argued that the AEC and NASA were duplicating efforts with respect to the creation of nuclear test reactors. In June 1960 the government suggested two courses 

of action. One was to close down the Plum Brook reactor before its construction 

was completed. The other was for the AEC and NASA to work together more efficiently.26 The latter course was accepted, and in August 1960 the joint AEC-NASA 

Space Nuclear Propulsion Office (SNPO) was formed in Washington, DC, with 

Harold Finger, a former Lewis engineer, as manager. Finger’s office coordinated the 

NERVA effort through the following locations (also see the Nuclear Rocket Program Organization 1962 chart on page 88):

• SNPO-C (the Cleveland extension) administered the NERVA contract with 

Aerojet-General Corporation and subcontractor Westinghouse. 

• SNPO-N (the Nevada extension) was responsible for the Nuclear Rocket 

Development System (NRDS). It tested all hot-reactor, engine, and vehicle 

development. 

• SNPO-A (the Albuquerque extension) was the liaison with the Operations 

Office of the AEC and the Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory. 

• The Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory was the center of the nuclear rocket 

program with its materials information, criticality data, design techniques, 

test methods, and fabrication methods. 

24 Harold B. Finger, “The Case for Nuclear Energy,” Nucleonics (April 1961): 58–63.

25 Dewar, To the End of the Solar System; Dewar, “Project Rover: A Study of the Nuclear Rocket 

Development Program, 1953–1963,” Ph.D. dissertation, Kansas State University, 1974; William R. 

Corliss, Nuclear Propulsion for Space (United States Atomic Energy Commission, 1967): 11–20.

26 “Administration Reorganizing Nuclear Rocket Program,” Nucleonics (June 1960): 23–24.
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tors. Lockheed was then hired to develop a flight test vehicle for Aerojet-General’s 

NERVA engine. In May 1962 Marshall Space Flight Center was given control of 

the RIFT (Reactor In Flight Test program) to design, develop, and fly a nuclearpowered upper stage for the Saturn V rocket.27 Several other industrial organizations 

worked with Los Alamos, including American Car and Foundry, North American 

Aviation, Lockheed, Vitro, Aetron, Bechtel, and Air Products and Chemicals. Finger 

articulated three main management philosophies for the entire NERVA government 

industry team. The first was the use of public funds for research and development. 

Second was an “in-house” government effort, with the technical expertise of the 

government (NASA centers and AEC laboratories) to guide the program. Third 

was the use of industrial organizations for design, engineering, fabrication, and construction of the rockets. 

In 1961 Harold Finger and Hugh Dryden testified before the House Space Committee that the United States was having “astounding successes” with the nuclear 

rocket and that they were “very encouraged.”28 Raymond L. Bisplinghoff, director 

of NASA’s advanced research and technology programs, predicted that America’s 

nuclear space development would have an “enormous influence on national prestige 

and strength,” as well as open a gateway into deep space exploration.29 By the mid1960s NASA and the AEC had spent an accumulated $584.5 million on NERVA 

and SNAP.30

The nuclear rocket program was a large organization that was supported by a vast 

array of government and industrial participants. It is beyond the scope of this book 

to explore the details of this entire effort. Others have done this, most notably James 

Dewar in To the End of the Solar System: The Story of the Nuclear Rocket (2004). The 

purpose here is to examine the specific contributions of the Plum Brook facility. 

Plum Brook endured the transition from the nuclear airplane to the nuclear rocket 

and became an important part of the Cleveland-based Lewis Laboratory. Finger 

argued that Cleveland played a key role in the nuclear program. He said, “The 

advice of the Lewis Research Center [and Plum Brook] is sought to assist in the 

solution of many of the problems that arise in the on-going nuclear-rocket development effort.” Cleveland was designated as the first of the three national extensions 

of the SNPO office because of the “substantial Lewis in-house programs in compo27 Robert E. L. Adamson, “Nuclear Space Program,” Nucleonics 19, 4 (April 1961): 54–57.

28 Neal Stanford, “Nuclear Rocketry: New Horizons,” Christian Science Monitor (6 March 1961): 3.

29 Raymond L. Bisplinghoff, “Atoms in Space,” General Electric Forum 3 (July/September 1964): 17.

30 “Rover Fact Sheet,” 27 January 1966, Record #13842. NASA HQ Historical Reference 

Collection. 

Nuclear Rocket Organization (1962)

AEC NASA

Administrator

Deputy Administrator

Associate Administrator

Deputy Associate

Administrator

 Office of Advanced

Research & Technology

Director

Chicago

Operations Office

Albuquerrque

Operations Office

The Commission

General Manager

Deputy General Manager

Assistant General Manager

Research & Development

Assistant General Manager

Division of Reactor

Research & Development

Director

Argonne

Nat. Lab

Alternate

Reactor

Concepts

Los Alamos

Laboratory

Kiwi &

Phoebus

Cleveland

Extension

NERVA

Albuquerque

Extension

NERVA

Nevada

Extension

NRDS

Marshall

Space Flight

Center

RIFT

Lewis

Research

Center

Nuclear

Rocket

Technology

Other NASA

Centers

Space Nuclear Propulsion

Office

Harold Finger, Manager

M. Kein, Deputy Manager

Nuclear Systems

Harold Finger, Director

W. Woodward, Deputy

Director

* Dotted lines are Program Direction
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wait, but they were gearing up toward that because this was why we were here.”33

Criticality signaled the point at which the reactor would become ready to begin 

generating scientific data. Criticality was Plum Brook’s coming-out party. 

In the months leading up to criticality all of the engineers worked long and hard 

hours. Joe Savino a process systems engineer recalled the experience as “fun and 

challenging,” but for eight months he went to work early in the morning and did 

not come home until midnight. This included a two-hour daily roundtrip commute 

from Lewis to Plum Brook and late-night work in the Lewis computing division 

analyzing the data. He said, “I was told the Congress was interested in getting that 

reactor started; that’s the reason I worked [so hard.] I enjoyed the experience tremendously. I felt I made a valuable contribution to reactor science.”34 This was the 

type of commitment that it took to prepare a reactor to reach criticality for the first 

time and was why there was such great anticipation of the event. 

Prior to criticality there were political issues that threatened to delay the start 

of Plum Brook’s experimentation. In April 1961 the Washington Post reported that 

there was a “smoldering jurisdictional dispute” between NASA and the AEC that 

could potentially hinder nuclear testing for space projects at Plum Brook.35 The 

local congressman who represented the Plum Brook region, Charles A. Mosher, 

testified that the problem centered on a debate over which agency would actually be 

responsible for performing the work at the reactor. The answer was a compromise, 

with NASA retaining control of the facility and the AEC having close oversight of 

safety and operational issues. 

But this resolution did not end the disagreements between the AEC and NASA. 

In April 1961 Congressman Mosher announced that once Plum Brook was operational the AEC would still not allow it to conduct nuclear rocket fuel experiments 

because the AEC had not licensed it. This was an issue that had been brewing for 

over an entire year, but Mosher made it public. The journal Nucleonics reported, 

“Mosher thus brought out in the open a sensitive situation which has existed since 

last summer.”36 NASA director Keith Glennan and AEC chairman John A. McCone 

started the debate, and their successors, AEC leader Glenn T. Seaborg and NASA’s 

James Webb, continued the struggle. 

One of the problems was that the AEC was burdened by all of the other reactors 

being built in the country at the time. The AEC had been involved at the beginning 

33 Interview with Ruth Hasse by Mark D. Bowles, 5 December 2002.

34 Interview with Joe Savino by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

35 “Jurisdictional Dispute Hinders A-Research,” Washington Post (25 April 1961): A10.

36 “Ohio Congressman Criticizes Restrictions on NASA,” Nucleonics (June 1961): 28.

nent, subsystem, full-system, and mission-analysis work.”31

Before the Plum Brook reactors could begin supporting the NERVA program, it 

had to complete several key technological milestones. The first came in June 1961, 

when the reactor went critical for the first time and subsequently in April 1963 

when it achieved full power. The second came during the summer of 1963, when 

the Mock-Up Reactor received its license from the AEC and then became operational in September. Plum Brook’s final major preparatory technological achievement was the completion of its hot laboratory in December 1963, where experiments could be analyzed after being irradiated in the reactor. The following three 

sections will discuss these three critical moments in Plum Brook’s evolution as a 

nuclear experimentation facility. They were the result of several years of intense 

work by a team of engineers working together to build a unique, sophisticated, and 

massive laboratory instrument that finally, it seemed, had a long-term mission and 

support from the government. 

Going Critical

Criticality is a term that describes an event where the number of neutrons released 

by fission is equal to the number of neutrons that are absorbed (by the fuel and 

poisons) and escape the reactor core. A reactor is said to be “critical” or “reach criticality” when it can sustain a nuclear chain reaction when the reactor is operating. 

When Plum Brook first reached criticality in June 1961, it joined 120 other research 

and test reactors already in operation across the country. 32 The only other more 

powerful non-power reactor in the United States at that time was the Engineering 

Test Reactor in Idaho. As one of the most powerful test reactors in the world, the 

NASA Plum Brook reactor became a leading facility for performing experiments in 

support of the nation’s nuclear space program.

Reaching criticality for the first time was a momentous occasion. The engineers 

had been planning for and dreaming about this occasion for many years. Ruth Hasse 

was one of the executive secretaries at Plum Brook, and she recalled the excitement 

of the engineers as they prepared for the event. She compared them to eager children 

in anticipation of Christmas morning. She said, “Well, I won’t say they could hardly 

31 Harold B. Finger, “Managing the Nuclear-Rocket Program,” Astronautics (December 1962): 

18–21.

32 Harold W. Giesler, Harry J. Reilly, and William A. Poley, “Low-Power Tests of the Plum Brook 

Reactor,” February 1963, Box 252, Folder 14, Plum Brook Archives.
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the public.”41 In 1971 it increased this allowance to 10,000 grams.42

When the day finally arrived for the reactor’s initial criticality in 1961, many of 

the engineers gathered around the control room. Those not inside watched through 

the big plate-glass windows from the outside walkway. The control room was the 

command center of the reactor itself, and Plum Brook’s was one of the most complex and sophisticated in the nation. Don Rhodes, reactor operator supervisor, said 

theirs was the “first solid-state electronic control room in the country.” This meant 

that there were no vacuum tubes in any of the components. Since the technology 

was so new, it required additional time to set up and for the engineers to learn how 

41 “Space Agency Reactor--A.E.C. Issues Limited License for Ohio Installation,” New York Times 

(17 March 1961): 10.

42 U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission Inspection Summary of Plum Brook, March 1994, Box 

10, Folder 19, Plum Brook Archives. 

Tom Fox (at the reactor controls) and Harold Geisler (standing at his right) take the Plum Brook reactor 

critical for the first time on the evening of 14 June 1961. (NASA C-1961-56899)

of Plum Brook to authorize construction with a permit, but Plum Brook later found 

it difficult to get its license application reviewed.37 It fell to Abe Silverstein to use his 

unique persuasion skills to motivate the AEC into action. The first step was to actually get the AEC officials to visit Plum Brook to work out the final licensing issues. 

Once they arrived, Silverstein told AEC’s Glenn Seaborg that his staff could not 

leave until they reached an agreement. Plum Brook engineer Jack Crooks recalled 

that Silverstein sat the AEC visitors in the Plum Brook conference room and said, 

“We’ll close the doors and work out all the problems and get our license. So what 

do we need to do?”38

Before granting the operating license the AEC had to ensure that Plum Brook 

passed specific qualifications in accordance with the Atomic Energy Act of 1954. 

Saul Levine, chief of the AEC’s test and power reactor safety branch, verified that 

the reactor was built in conformity with its construction permit, ensured that NASA 

could operate the reactor without endangering public safety, and confirmed that 

NASA was technically capable of operating the reactor. Since NASA was a federal 

agency, it did not have to prove that it was financially qualified to possess the reactor, as was necessary for private institutions. The license also dictated that NASA 

keep the required records tracking shutdowns, safety violations, and radioactivity 

releases into the environment. The AEC required reporting of any unusual occurrences as well as ongoing updates.39

Silverstein and Seaborg worked out the problems, and on 17 March 1961 Plum 

Brook received a provisional AEC seal of approval for its license. Approval for fueled 

experiments would come later when the AEC issued its permanent license. The 

AEC recognized that there were such significant differences between research and 

test reactors that they began to issue separate licenses for them. The AEC issued its 

permanent license (No. SNM46) to Plum Brook’s test reactor on 31 December 1963 

and designated it as TR-3. This signified that it was the third test reactor licensed 

in the United States.40 This license granted Plum Brook authorization to use 500 

grams of uranium enriched of the uranium-235 isotope, and the AEC announced 

that the reactor could be operated “without undue hazard to the health and safety of 

37 “Public Hearing Set on Atomic Permits,” New York Times (6 September 1957): 41; “Permit is 

Issued for Building of Reactor for Research,” New York Times (22 July 1958): 14.

38 Interview with Jack Crooks by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

39 Saul Levine, “Facility License No. R-93,” 1 August 1963, Folder 11, Box 10, Plum Brook 

Archives.

40 Robert Lowenstein, “License No. TR-3,” 14 March 1961, Folder 11, Box 10, Plum Brook 

Archives.
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on the time and day when the reactor would reach the critical moment, similar to 

common office pools anticipating the birth of a baby. Reactor operator Clyde Greer 

said, “It was breathtaking to see one instrument especially.”44 An ink line drawing 

on a chart recorder signified the power level of the reactor. Everyone knew that once 

it reached criticality it would begin to trace a straight line. Don Rhodes was the 

third person to take the reactor critical. To him the red line on the chart was a bit 

anticlimactic because the real action was inside the reactor and the chart pen simply 

was a representation of many other technological events all taking place at the same 

time.45 Nevertheless, it was the only visual indication of success.

Approaching the first criticality, the chart held everyone’s attention as it slowly 

drew a line at an upward angle. The engineers continued to put fuel into the reactor, slowly pulling the control rods out.46 Once it was critical and the line was flat, 

Harold Giesler and Bill Fecych shouted, “We’re critical,” and everyone began clapping and cheering. Nuclear engineer A. Bert Davis recalled, “That was a special 

day when it went critical . . . I stood outside the glass looking in the control room 

observing what was going on. After it went critical we had a great party that night 

at a winery in Sandusky.”47 Earl Boitel from the experimental equipment section 

recalled that it was “one of the most emotional moments that we’ve ever had.”48

The reactor itself was located below the pressure tank, which was surrounded 

by four quadrants that were 25 to 27 feet deep. Three of the quadrants (A, C, and 

D) were filled with water because it served as a radiation shield to protect those 

who were working nearby. Quadrant B was always dry and was constructed with 

extra concrete shielding, so the water was not necessary. The dry quadrant provided 

unique capabilities for handling experiment packages that could not be submerged 

in water.49 Water canals extended throughout the reactor so that radioactive materials could be moved around the facility. A great deal of water was needed, with each 

quadrant holding 180,000 gallons and the canals requiring 220,000 gallons. The 

reactor needed one million gallons of water daily for cooling, shielding, and dilution of radiation. One of the early problems was quick disposal of the radioactive 

44 Interview with Clyde Greer by Mark D. Bowles, 5 February 2002.

45 Interview with Don Rhodes by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

46 Interview with Jim Greer by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

47 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.

48 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

49 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

to operate the systems. Transistors enabled the electronics modules and the control 

room itself to be much smaller than would have been possible with vacuum tubes. 

Transistors had been on the market for only a few years when the Plum Brook control room was built, so few of the engineers had a great deal of experience with the 

new technology. Rhodes said, “NASA pushed the envelope on solid-state electronics. That alone was a learning curve right there.”43

The engineers around the control room all eagerly awaited the announcement 

that the reactor was finally critical. Most of them had put money in a pool betting 

43 Interview with Don Rhodes by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

Diagram of the reactor tank assembly. (NASA CS_29736)
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over the pressure tank (9 feet in diameter by 31 feet high). Directly underneath the 

lily pad and in the center of the quadrants was the reactor itself. It was a materials-testing reactor that was cooled and moderated by light water. It had a beryllium 

reflector and a secondary water reflector. The fueled reactor was almost 25 inches 

high. The core was located beneath 21 feet of water and consisted of 93% enriched 

uranium, which was common at the time for research and test reactors.51 The uranium-fueled section (the center 3 by 9 array) surrounded by reflector material or 

experiments made up the 4 by 11 reactor core. The fueled core consisted of 22 stationary rods and 5 movable cadmium and fuel control rods. The fuel area was surrounded on three sides by reflector material. This included two movable cadmium 

and beryllium regulating rods, three similar shim safety rods, and 12 fixed reflector 

plugs for experiments. The fueled core housing had reflector plates on the right and 

left sides and aluminum end plates. To the left of the fueled section was a large 4 by 

8 reflector section, which provided holes for the insertion of up to 32 experiments. 

The whole core structure sat on a stainless-steel rack in the stainless-steel-lined pressure tank. Three thermal shields were visible around the core. Two large vertical test 

holes ran next to the ends of the core. One large tube extended through the large 

reflector section, and another was next to the fueled section. Three smaller beam 

tubes were adjacent to the right side of the core, and three others were on the reflector side.

After the initial criticality the control room remained the heart of the reactor, but 

it rarely had such exciting moments. Robert Didelot, operations branch shift supervisor, said that being an operator in the control room was “99% boredom and 1% 

panic,”52 because when everything was operating as it should, there was often little 

work to do. Didelot said, “It was kind of a central location where people tended to 

stop in, say hello, talk, and ask how things were going. People would get a cup of 

coffee, walk through, stick their head in the door and chitchat, particularly on the 

back shifts. A lot of people passed though. Sometimes too many, especially when 

you got an alarm or panic struck.” The 1% panic time would often come when too 

much poison like xenon (a neutron absorber that results from fission product decay) 

built up in the reactor and the operators had a very limited amount of time to 

recover. The reactor operators would usually have less than 20 minutes to diagnose 

why an unplanned shutdown had occurred. The control rods could take up to 13 

minutes to return or withdraw. If the operator did not recover in time, it would take 

48 hours for the xenon to decay, and the experiments could be compromised. This 

51 Interview with Jack Crooks by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

52 Interview with Robert Didelot by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

water in the canals.50 It was much easier to get the clean water into the facility. Plum 

Brook had two pumping stations to draw water from nearby Lake Erie. The main 

station was at Rye Beach, and the other was at Big Island.

The “lily pad” was located on top of the quadrants. Engineers gave it this name 

because with water in the quadrants the circular center resembled a floating lily 

pad. It was typically cluttered with experimental apparatus and large oval shrapnel 

shields, which weighed more than 20 tons each and were placed for safety purposes 

50 H. Brock Barkley, “Newsgram #1,” 24 May 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

This diagram shows the numerous experimental “facilities” in the Plum Brook reactor core. The left side 

was the fueled area containing cadmium and beryllium moveable regulating rods around the exterior, 

three shim safety rods, and twelve fixed reflector plugs. The unfueled right side of the core contained 

facilities for inserting up to 32 experiments. Three of these facilities (with circles) were hooked up to 

pneumatic rabbit tubes for easy insertion and removal of experiments. (NASA CS-46328)
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SM-3 (5,000 trillion) and the Dounreay Fast Reactor in Britain (2,500 trillion) had 

a higher flux. Even though the Chalk River Laboratories reactor in Canada had a 

much higher power rating of 135 megawatts than Plum Brooks’s 60 megawatts, it 

was only capable of a 400-trillion-neutron flux.

Reaching full power criticality was also significant because it also brought increased 

funding requirements. The budget changed significantly (increasing by nearly 50%) 

between the years 1962 and 1963, once Plum Brook was operating in full power 

mode. The following table compares the costs associated with running the various 

parts of the reactor, exclusive of any personnel salaries, insurance, or pensions:58

Fiscal Year 1962 (Prior to Full Power Criticality) Cost

Reactor $ 860,000.00 

Mock-Up Reactor $ 57,000.00 

Flux mapping equipment $ 30,000.00 

Instrument calibration facility $ 60,000.00 

Hot laboratory $ 400,000.00 

Facility modifications $ 512,000.00 

Miscellaneous $ 400,000.00 

Total $ 2,319,000.00 

Fiscal Year 1963 (After Full Power Criticality) Cost

Reactor $ 1,137,000.00 

New fuel contract $ 548,000.00 

Igloo modification $ 26,000.00 

Fuel element $ 105,000.00 

Mock-Up Reactor modification $ 32,000.00 

Modification for experiments $ 90,000.00 

Facility modifications $ 279,000.00 

Security control building $ 167,000.00 

Service equipment building $ 88,000.00 

Waste handling building $ 375,000.00 

Experimental test & assembly building $ 515,000.00 

Tracks for Ht-1 experiment $ 8,000.00 

Miscellaneous construction $ 41,000.00 

Total $ 3,411,000.00 

58 “Funding Required for Plum Brook,” 12 October 1961, Box 1, Folder 12, Plum Brook 

Archives.

is why reaction time during that 1% time of panic was so important. 

Though the Plum Brook reactor went critical in 1961, it was not until over one 

year later that it operated at its full 60-megawatt power capacity. While this was an 

important date, it was not as memorable for the engineers as the first criticality. 

Davis said, “The day we went to full power does not register to me as a highlight 

. . . once you go critical that’s the first time you’ve had a sustained nuclear reaction in the core.”53

While the power of the reactor was important, it was the neutron flux that was the 

main attribute that enabled advanced experimentation. While few people remember 

what a “neutron flux” is today, it entered the lexicon in the 1960s, associated with 

the nuclear arms race. In weapons terminology, a “neutron flux bomb” was a powerful new weapon that journalists described as a “new nightmare” that would “merely 

kill all living things within their range.”54 But, in reactor terminology, the neutron 

flux was simply a measurement of the number of neutrons per second that a reactor 

could pass through a square centimeter of space. Plum Brook reactor engineer and 

radiochemistry section head, Robert DeFayette, said, “At the time Plum Brook was 

probably one of the biggest test reactors, because the test reactors didn’t get much 

bigger than that from the standpoint of power. We didn’t need it. What we were 

looking for was the neutron flux.”55 Myrna Steele, from the nuclear experiments 

section, was the only woman physicist at Plum Brook. She recalled, “The neutron 

fluxes and the neutron currents from the reactor at Plum Brook were among the 

highest in the world at the time that it was built and running.”56

 The Plum Brook reactor was capable of producing average neutron fluxes of 

“4.2 x 1014 neutrons/cm2

-sec.” This meant that the reactor could transmit 420 trillion neutrons through a square centimeter of space every second, making it one of 

the most valuable experimental reactors in the world. In comparison with other 

reactors, Plum Brook’s neutron flux was the highest in the United States. Only 

the Engineering Test Reactor equaled the thermal flux in its core. These were followed by the General Electric test reactor at 230 trillion neutrons, the Materials Test 

Reactor at 200 trillion neutrons, the Oak Ridge Reactor at 130 trillion neutrons, 

and the Westinghouse reactor at 56 trillion neutrons.57 Worldwide, only the Soviet 

53 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.

54 Joseph Alsop, “Neutron Flux and Other Items,” Washington Post (16 June 1961): A17. 

55 Interview with Robert DeFayette, 29 January 2002. 

56 Interview with Myrna Steele by Mark D. Bowles, 7 February 2002.

57 Hugh Murray (nuclear experiments section), “Comparison of PBR Fast Flux with that Obtained 

in Other Reactors,” 25 June 1963, Box 252, Folder 4, Plum Brook Archives.
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flux. The main product of a test reactor was the neutrons and gamma rays from the 

nuclear fission. The neutron flux told the engineers how much radiation a material 

specimen received while in the reactor. Without the ability to predict or control 

the neutron flux, an accurate experimental environment could not be created or 

maintained. 

 A. Bert Davis began as the assistant project engineer and oversaw the construction of the MUR at Lockheed. He also was responsible for shipping and installing 

it at Plum Brook.Davis said, “[T]he purpose of the Mock-Up Reactor was to mock 

up these experiments as cheaply and simply as you could in order to determine what 

the [neutronic and other] effects would be of one experiment on another and what 

the effects would be of just the experiment itself.”63 The AEC license enabled Plum 

Brook to use 1,000 grams of uranium enriched in the uranium-235 isotope.64

The MUR was located in Canal H of the Plum Brook main reactor building, 

63 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.

64 U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission Inspection Summary of Plum Brook, March 1994, Box 

10, Folder 19, Plum Brook Archives.

The control room for the Mock-Up Reactor. (NASA PS63-0008)

 On 15 August 1963 Plum Brook’s main reactor completed its first experimental 

cycle. When the reactor was operational and engaged in active experimentation 

there was a plume of vapor over the reactor cooling tower. This plume became a 

symbol to all the reactor engineers that their systems were operating normally. But 

while reaching criticality was important, there were still other crucial reactor facilities that had to be completed before Plum Brook would achieve its full experimental 

capabilities. Perhaps none of these advances were more important than the design 

and construction of a second nuclear reactor. 

The Mock-Up Reactor

Though the AEC stated that the Mock-Up Reactor “represents no new or novel 

features in the reactor design,” Plum Brook significantly increased its experimental 

capability with its construction.59 NASA designed the smaller research reactor to 

work in tandem with the larger 60-megawatt main reactor. The design work began 

in October 1960, construction started in December 1962, and the reactor was completed in July 1963.60 Lockheed Nuclear Corporation designed and built the reactor 

for $404,002 in accordance with specifications written primarily by Hap Johnson, 

who was the first project engineer of the Mock-Up Reactor (MUR).61 Once the 

MUR was finished, the AEC granted Plum Brook its license (No. SNM-0716) for 

the MUR and designated it as R-93.62 In August 1963 it reached its first criticality 

and became ready for operation.

The MUR could help the engineers determine where the experiments should 

be placed, how much irradiation they would receive from the core, and how the 

experimental materials would affect the reactor. Maintenance of the MUR occurred 

monthly for all of its electronic systems. The MUR made Plum Brook’s main reactor a more efficient and more effective scientific tool. It achieved this by simulating 

the larger reactor’s test environment, which helped engineers estimate the neutron 

59 Martin B. Biles, chief of the test and power reactor safety branch, division of licensing and 

regulation, “Hazards Analysis of the Mock-Up Reactor,” Atomic Energy Commission, 14 June 1961, 

Box 251, Folder 37, Plum Brook Archives. 

60 Atomic Energy Commission, “Quarterly Report on Status of Reactor Construction,” 2 July 

1963, Box 1, Folder 5, Plum Brook Archives.

61 “Reactor Contract Let—Lockheed’s Georgia Division to Build Nuclear Device,” New York Times 

(23 December 1960): 38.

62 “License and Technical Specifications for the NASA Mock-Up Reactor,” 29 July 1964, Folder 

11, Box 10, Plum Brook Archives.
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help make this determination, it was hoped that the MUR would solve this problem. Early on Schuh said, the MUR was “a simulation, albeit not too good. But, it 

was as good as we could make it with limited funds, of what the actual reactor was 

doing when it was operating at full power.”69 Over time the engineers learned to 

make better use of the MUR by comparing it with their own predictions to make 

an “educated guess as to what’s really happening.” Accuracy was an essential goal for 

all of the work performed at the MUR. H. Brock Barkley said, “We have devoted 

considerable effort to make our nuclear flux measurements complete, detailed, and 

accurate.”70 By the late 1960s the flux predictions from the MUR had a 95 percent 

confidence level. 

The Rabbit in the Reactor

Myrna Steele was a physicist who worked at the Plum Brook Nuclear Experiments Section. Her job was to help set up experiments that were designed either by 

sponsors like Lockheed or Westinghouse, or internally by NASA itself. The experiments were usually focused on some type of material. Researchers needed to know 

how it would respond in a radioactive or cryogenic environment. Myrna and others 

conducted these experiments by sending the materials through various experimental 

beam facilities into the reactor and leaving them there for a predetermined period 

of time. Often this included placing the specimens in the small rabbit containers, 

which were then sent through the tubes and into the reactor core. Myrna recalled 

that once when her mother was staying with her at home, the telephone rang at 

about 3:00 a.m. and woke both of them both. Myrna answered and heard the voice 

on the other end say, “We need you to come to work.” There was a problem with 

one of the experiments, and Myrna quickly began getting dressed. When her mother 

asked from the next room where she was going, Myrna said that she had to go and 

see about a “rabbit test.” Her mother, understanding little of the reactor terminology, took this to mean something about the possible pregnancy of her unmarried 

daughter. She paced the house that day waiting for her return, only to find out that 

the “rabbit test” in question concerned basic research and not pregnancy.71

Rabbits were the name for the 3-inch-long (1.5-inch-diameter) aluminum cylinders that traveled through the test holes. They had a screw-top cap, and various 

69 Interview with Dick Schuh by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

70 H. Brock Barkley, “Significant Experiences of the NASA Plum Brook Reactor Facility,” 1968, 

NASA TM-X-52491.

71 Interview with Myrna Steele by Mark D. Bowles, 7 February 2002.

which was just outside of the containment vessel and only 100 feet from the main 

reactor.65 The two reactors were connected with each other through a system of 

canals. These assisted in transferring irradiated experiments or specimens between 

them. The MUR was a 100-kilowatt, swimming pool-type research reactor. The 

main core and the MUR reactor core were identical to each other in that they used 

the same design and configuration of fuel and control rod elements. However, the 

maximum power level of the MUR was limited to 100 kilowatts, so it did not 

require forced cooling water flow. The beam and test holes were also both in the 

same places, but engineers loaded specimens in the MUR holes through the surface 

of the pool.66

The MUR first went critical at 9:30 p.m. on 10 September 1963, and the event 

was considered a “major milestone” for the facility.67 Dick Robinson was the senior 

operator and supervisor, and Bill Poley operated the control panel. One month later 

the MUR began to be used as part of the experimental program. The MUR not only 

made the main reactor’s experiments more effective, but it was important because 

it saved both time and money for the experiment sponsors.68 Its benefits included 

being able to make flux and reactivity measurements with the less expensive MUR 

without tying up the more expensive main reactor. 

Operation of the MUR, like the main reactor, required a highly specialized 

team. The MUR supervisor was an AEC-licensed senior operator. The “scientist-incharge” was the person responsible for each specific experiment. The AEC licensed 

all of the reactor operators, and they took orders from the senior operator. MUR 

facility personnel assisted the operators. They were unlicensed and were not permitted to run the reactor. There were also several reactor trainees, who were individuals 

learning how to become operators. 

Not everyone was confident with the results obtained from the MUR. Dick 

Schuh, chief of the nuclear support branch, said that when running the experiments 

in the main reactor, the engineers still had to predict what the nuclear environment 

would be in a particular test hole. These holes were where the specimens were irradiated in or near the reactor. Although there were computer programs that could 

65 Stephen K. Breslauer, “Supplementary Testimony,” Atomic Energy Commission, Box 251, 

Folder 37, Plum Brook Archives.

66 W. A. Poley and P.M. Finnegan, “Final Hazards Summary Mock-Up Reactor, NASA Plum 

Brook Facility,” September 1962, Folder 2, Box 15, Plum Brook Archives.

67 Barkley, “Special Newsgram, Mock-Up Reactor,” 11 September 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook 

Archives.

68 “Report of Reactor Operations for the NASA Plum Brook Mock-Up Reactor,” 20 November 

1964, Box 40, Folder 2, Page 4, Plum Brook Archives.
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hurting the poor rabbits?”74

One of the most important features of the Plum Brook test facilities was its 

accessibility. To run experiments, engineers were constantly moving materials near 

and even through the main reactor core. In contrast, a power reactor remained 

essentially isolated and immobile. The power reactor’s fuel was placed inside, and 

every so often it might be moved from one region to another because it burned more 

efficiently in the new location. Other than that, nothing moved near it. A research 

reactor was designed so it could be accessed, and this access was made possible by a 

series of experiment test holes.75 The holes extended into or around the reactor fuel. 

Babcock & Wilcox developed the fuel elements for Plum Brook.76

In total there were 43 test holes located around the core where experiments could 

be inserted. Multiple experiments could operate at the same time, and sometimes as 

many as 20 or 30 could be concurrently exposed to radiation.77

Type Name Number Size

Horizontal through hole HT 2 9” inner diameter

Horizontal beam hole HB 3 6” inner diameter

Vertical center hole LC-6 1 3” square

Vertical hole V 2 8” inner diameter

Thermal column TC 1 41” outside diameter

Reflector hole R 28 3” inner diameter

Hydraulic rabbit RH 4 1.31” inner diameter

Pneumatic rabbit RP 2 1.31” inner diameter

 In total there were eight different types of test holes. There were two horizontal 

through holes (HT), which had an inner diameter of 9 inches and a wall thickness 

of .5 inches. They lay parallel to the core’s horizontal axis. HT-1 was located on the 

south side of the core, and HT-2 was to the north. The inner walls were actually 

aluminum tubes, and each end went into the pressure tank wall. Self-contained 

experiments could be inserted with underwater equipment in the quadrants directly 

74 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002

75 Interview with Jim Blue by Virginia Dawson, 26 September 2002.

76 The uranium was encased in aluminum plates that were then assembled into the fuel element. 

They were nearly 3 feet long, and once they were assembled they were then inserted into the lattice in 

the reactor core. Interview with H. Brock Barkley by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

77 Interview with Don Rhodes by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

material specimens could be placed inside for testing purposes. Engineers used the 

term “rabbit” because of the fast transfer speeds, not because the cylindrical device 

looked anything like a rabbit itself. Once inside, the rabbits would travel along the 

tubes for irradiation. For the hydraulic tubes, water pressure was projected against 

the tubes and forced the rabbits to where they were supposed to go. They were then 

irradiated for a predetermined period of time, anywhere from 10 minutes to 10 

days or longer. Then the water pressure was reversed, and the rabbits could then be 

brought back out.72

The term “rabbit” was unique to the culture of research reactors.73 After reactor 

operator Jim Greer left Plum Brook he went to work at a power reactor. He once 

began talking about the rabbits in the reactor and recalled getting very curious stares 

from the other engineers, who were imagining bunnies hopping around the reactor 

facility or, worse, being exposed to radiation. This also became a standard question 

every time one of the reactor engineers gave a public talk. Earl Boitel recalled that 

before he could explain someone would always ask, “What do you mean? Are you 

72 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

73 Interview with Jim Greer by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

Hap Johnson (left) and Brock Barkley (right) examine test specimens behind a magnifying glass. (NASA 

C-2004-741)
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on how they got those raccoons out of there.”81

The canals were a very important component of the facility. Once an experiment was taken out of the test holes, it was radioactive because of something called 

“neutron activation.” This occurred because after spending time in the reactor, the 

materials would trap the neutrons. According to Robert Defayette, at that point 

“It would be extremely hazardous and dangerous to bring it out of containment.”82

But for the engineers to actually analyze the experiments they had to manipulate 

and study the radioactive materials. This required not just a laboratory to examine 

the materials, but also a way to transport them there without endangering the engineers. Although some experiments were transported in lead casks above the water, 

most were moved in the canals. The canals were 25 feet deep, which was necessary 

for shielding purposes to protect the people standing nearby. At the bottom of the 

canals was a track on which a small electric vehicle could maneuver from the reactor 

core through the quadrants and canals. Not all of the experiments could fit on the 

vehicle. Those that would not fit had to be transported manually through the canals 

with poles, ropes, and other equipment to push them along. Earl Boitel said that in 

describing this journey, “sometimes people use the word tortuous because it took a 

long time.”83 After they had been irradiated, these materials were sent to the “Hot 

Laboratory.” Once there, the experiments would be picked up by an overhead crane 

at the back of the laboratory and then moved into one of the cells for disassembly 

and data gathering. It was here that scientists could examine how the materials’ 

physical properties had changed after exposure to radiation. 

The Hot Laboratory

In December 1963, three months after completion of the MUR, the Hot Laboratory, headed by Robert Oldrieve, became fully operational.84 Facility design engineers at the Lewis Research Center (Samuel Kaufman, Abner Horwith, and Morton 

Krasner) conceived and designed the facility, and NASA constructed it for $1.1 mil81 Interview with Jack Ross by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

82 view with Robert Defayette by Virginia Dawson, 21 September 2002.

83 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

84 Oldrieve had earned an engineering degree from the University of Cincinnati in 1954 and 

then began working for NACA as a metals and materials engineer. NACA then sent him to the Oak 

Ridge laboratory to learn nuclear engineering, and in 1959 he was assigned to Plum Brook. He wrote 

a science fiction book based on his Plum Brook experiences. Robert Earle (pseudonym for Robert 

Oldrieve), Hot Lab (New York: Vantage Press, 1970).

into the HT holes. These were considered the prime irradiation facility at Plum 

Brook.78 The Plum Brook reactor also had horizontal beam holes, designated HB-1, 

HB-2, and HB-3. Each of these had an inner diameter of six inches, and they were 

located above HT-2 on the north side of the reactor. The most numerous types of 

test holes were the reflectors (R). There were 28 of these 3-inch-diameter holes, and 

they were located in the beryllium blocks above HT-1.79

The largest of all of the test holes was the thermal column (TC). This 41-inchdiameter pipe was on the south side of the reactor along with HT-1. The thermal 

column was inside this pipe, and it ended one inch away from the primary reflector’s 

beryllium blocks. It enabled experimenters to take a large number of fast neutrons 

(a neutron with kinetic energy greater than its surroundings when released during 

fission), moderate them, and then turn them into “thermal neutrons” (a neutron 

that, because of a collision with other particles, has reached an energy state equal to 

that of its surroundings). Because this hole was so large it could also be adapted to 

perform studies on shielding, and it could also irradiate large bodies, like pieces of 

electronic equipment.80

Vertical test holes ran perpendicular to the HT pipes. There were two vertical 

test holes (V-1 and V-2) that had 8-inch inner diameters. The walls of these holes 

were also aluminum and extended from the top cover of the reactor tank down to 

the bottom of the core. There was also a vertical center hole (LC-6), which was 

made available for experimentation when the control rod at position LC-6 was 

removed from the reactor core. This was used for smaller in-pile tests, consisting of 

3-inch-square unfueled experimental assemblies.

There were two pneumatic rabbit tubes (RP-1 and RP-2) that passed horizontally over the core and parallel to HT-2. This was much like the same pneumatic 

interoffice mail system once used in department stores or the one used in banks to 

transfer money to cars waiting at outside terminals. There were also four hydraulic 

rabbit tubes (RH-1, RH-2, RH-3, and RH-4), and these terminated at the beryllium blocks that surrounded HT-1. While real rabbits were never in the reactor, 

there was a story about some curious raccoons that had sneaked inside the reactor 

and began swimming in the canals. Jack Ross recalled, “Plum Brook is quite a wildlife center,” and as soon as they saw the canals they jumped into the water and began 

swimming. Ross said, “I can remember a couple of fellows trying to be very creative 

78 Westinghouse Astronuclear Laboratory “Experiment Design Manual,” WANL-TNR-173, 

August 1965.

79 Interview with Jim Blue by Mark D. Bowles, 11 February 2002.

80 A. B. Davis, B. Lubarsky, and T. M. Hallman, “Final Hazards Summary: NASA Plum Brook 

Facility” (December 1959), 11–12, 85, Box 252, Folder 8, Plum Brook Archives.
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lion.85 Hot laboratories are a key element of test reactor facilities. They are shielded 

cells where engineers and technicians can safely analyze irradiated experiments. The 

walls of the Hot Cells ranged between 43 and 63 inches thick and contained various 

tools and equipment to inspect and dismantle the experiments. Once the experiments were disassembled, operators placed irradiated materials in small metal rabbits, which they sent through pneumatic tubes to other laboratory rooms in the 

facility. 

Shielding was necessary because materials exposed to nuclear radiation become 

radioactive and emit gamma, beta, and alpha rays and therefore cannot be analyzed 

in a traditional laboratory setting. In the hot laboratories an elaborate system of 

radiation shields enabled investigators to study the radiation’s effect on the physical properties of the materials, such as strength, brittleness, or elasticity. Operators peered through thick oil-filled plate-glass windows to observe their work. They 

interacted with the materials through the deft use of robotic “master-slave” manipulator arms, which were claw-like devices that enabled researchers to carry out chemical and physical tests without exposing anyone to the deadly radiation. Central 

Research Labs, Inc., of Red Wing, Minnesota, constructed Plum Brook’s Model 

A and Model D manipulators. They were advertised as being “As obedient as your 

hand!” The “amazingly simple” operations duplicated natural hand motions, and 

the company promised that “An operator becomes perfectly adept with practically 

no training.”86 The Plum Brook Hot Laboratory also contained an office, manipulator repair shop, and a decontamination room that connected the “clean” operating 

area with the radioactive area behind the cells.87

Hot laboratories attracted national attention when President Kennedy once tried 

his hand at a remote manipulator like the ones found at Plum Brook. Kennedy used 

a manipulator that disassembled radioactive parts from a nuclear rocket reactor. It 

had been sent to Los Alamos from the Nuclear Rocket Development Station at the 

Nevada Test Site. Harold Finger accompanied him on the trip and recalled, “There’s 

no question about it. [Kennedy] enjoyed seeing the equipment. He actually played 

with some of the remote manipulators, and I can tell you he was beaming as he was 

doing it. After meeting these outstanding scientists at Los Alamos and seeing the 

facilities in Nevada, he was really excited about the whole thing.”88

While the best Kennedy could do was simply play with the reactors, the actual 

85 Robert E. Oldrieve, “Plum Brook Reactor Hot Laboratory Facility,” Box 252, Folder 12, Plum 

Brook Archives.

86 Central Research Laboratories Inc. advertisement, in Nucleonics (June 1960): 45. 

87 Interview with Jack Ross by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

88 Interview with Harold Finger by Virginia P. Dawson, 4 April 2002. 

Two technicians manipulate a shim safety control rod in a water canal in the hot laboratory (1961). 

(NASA C-1961-55808)
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President John F. Kennedy operates a hot lab manipulator at the Nuclear Rocket Development Station in 

Los Alamos. (Harry Finger Collection)

Photo of Robert Oldrieve and pages from his book Hot Lab. (New York: Vantage Press, 1970. Photo of 

Oldrieve is NASA C-1961-58510.)
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specimens into a plastic base for analysis under a microscope.93 The microscope was 

especially tricky to design. Engineers custom-built a microscope into one of the 

cells so that the image reflected through several mirrors and into a camera that took 

photographs of the specimens at various magnifications.94 Other devices included 

tensile testers, scales, micrometers, lathes, and cameras. Like the microscope, each of 

these tools required special adaptation for use by the manipulator arms. This often 

required the use of conventional tools, which also had to be modified. Stokes said, 

“We had to invent tools and make them fit onto the manipulator and mimic the 

same operation as your hand. We took conventional tools, like tweezers, cutters, 

pliers, screwdrivers, wrenches, and modified them with grips.”95 Finger grips were 

put on these tools and then slipped over the claws on the manipulator arms. 

The 7 interconnected hot cells totaled 100,000 cubit feet of shielded research 

93 Interview with Jack Crooks by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

94 Interview with William Stokes by Mark D. Bowles, 23 January 2002.

95 Interview with Bill Stokes by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

The safe work area in the hot laboratory. (NASA C-2003-839) 

operators developed a tremendous skill and dexterity in using them. The manipulators became, as the advertisements had promised, extensions of these operators’ arms, 

hands, and fingers. The hand motion made by the operators at one end (including 

every twist, squeeze, and movement through space) translated to the tongs located 

on the other side of the thick windows in the hot cell.89 While appearing as clumsy 

devices to the outsider, through much practice and skill the researchers could perform very delicate operations. Earl Boitel recalled, “We were completely amazed at 

those operators and technicians who could thread a needle with the manipulators. 

They said that anything your fingers could do, the manipulators could do. And I 

guess to the trained technician that was true. They were pushing the state of technology at that point in time.”90

This skill took a great deal of time and practice to perfect. William Stokes was 

a hot cell operator. He recalled that when he first tried to use the manipulators he 

fumbled around for quite some time. One of the problems was depth perception. 

Each window into the hot cell had a 52-inch oil-filled glass that protected the operator from radiation. While it served as a shield, it also distorted the operators’ vision, 

creating an illusion, much the same way that a submersed stick looks broken under 

the surface of the water. Stokes would often demonstrate how to thread a needle with 

the manipulators at Plum Brook’s public open houses. He would hold the needle in 

one manipulator grip and find the eye of the needle by using a monocular. He then 

used the other manipulator grip to pick up specially modified tweezers that could 

hold the thread. The manipulators had rubber “fingers,” so that they could apply 

tension to something that fine. Stokes said, “After some practice, it was easy.”91

This skill could occasionally be used in the real world. The nearby Cedar Point 

Amusement Park in Sandusky, Ohio, had numerous tests of skill and strength, like 

shooting basketballs, throwing a baseball at bowling pins, or smashing a hammer 

down. But the favored game by the families of the Plum Brook Hot Laboratory 

operators was the one with little hand-held grabbers that picked prizes out of a glass 

box. Robert Oldreive’s wife recalled that her husband never failed to win the best 

prizes.92

The ability to do things like thread a needle was more than just play. It was a 

part of the operators’ rigorous training program. This was such an important skill 

because most of their work in the hot cells dealt with very small objects. This could 

include anything from disassembling small motors to imbedding tiny metallographic 

89 Joel W. Chastain, ed., U.S. Research Reactor Operation and Use (Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley 

Publishing, 1958), p. 210.

90 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

91 Interview with Bill Stokes by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

92 Interview with Rosalie Oldrieve by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.
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and special precautions were taken so that this could never happen by mistake.97

With the Plum Brook infrastructure in place—a critical test reactor, test holes 

and rabbits, canals, the MUR, and the Hot Laboratory—the facility was prepared to 

begin what appeared to be a long-term experimental program. After approximately 

seven years of preparations and a change in priorities from a nuclear airplane to a 

nuclear rocket, the Plum Brook engineers were finally ready to begin conducting 

experiments. 

97 “Hot Cell Equipment,” Box 272, Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives. 

space, and each had its own function.96 Cell 1 was for “Cutoff and Dismantling.” 

Technicians used its severing and milling capabilities for dismantling experiments 

when they entered the hot laboratory. It could also prepare metallographic specimens. Cell 2 was the “Machining” area, with its engine lathe. Operators modified 

a hardness tester with rubber grips. With the manipulators they could determine 

the hardness of the parts before machining. They collected all of the chips from the 

lathe and disposed of them as radioactive waste. Cell 3 was the “Physical Testing” 

area. This included a tensile testing machine to measure the compression and tear 

strength of materials. The engineers made comparisons of the material’s mechanical 

properties before and after it was placed in the reactor to determine the effects of 

radiation. A stereomicroscope was also located in this cell. 

Cell 4 was for “Metallographic Preparation” of all of the specimens. “Metallographic” was a very important component of the Plum Brook research. It entailed 

the study of metals and their alloys through the use of microscopic or x-ray procedures. The resulting analyses provided the engineers with an indication of how 

well the materials would respond in a radioactive environment. Various machines 

could prepare these samples, including three vibratory polishing units, an ultrasonic 

cleaning unit, and an electropolisher and etching unit. Each of these had to be 

modified for operator use with the manipulator arms. Bakelite premolds facilitated 

specimen mounting, and a periscope enabled inspection of the specimens. Cell 5, 

called “Metallography,” was where the analysis actually took place. Equipment here 

included a metallograph, a microhardness tester, and a cathodic tester. 

The final two cells were for compositional analysis. Cell 6, called “Chemical 

Analysis,” included a variety of testing equipment, including two remote-control 

burettes, a titrator, magnetic stirrers, electronic thermometers, and an analytical 

balance. All of the chemical dissolutions would be further analyzed in Plum Brook’s 

Chemistry and Radiochemistry Laboratories. Cell 7, called “Analytical Measurement,” was for x-ray diffraction and x-ray fluorescent analysis. A scintillation unit 

was eventually planned for inclusion in this cell but was never purchased. 

Each cell had filtered air, water, special vents, an intercom, and floor drains for 

liquid waste effluent. There was also an intercell transportation system for the radioactive specimens. The carriers had a 3.125-inch inner diameter, were 9 inches long, 

and could transport 6 pounds of material at one time. Cell 3 was the central dispatch area for the pneumatic system that used the minimum amount of air to send 

the materials to Cells 4 through 7. It could also send a specimen to an outside area, 

96 Robert E. Oldrieve, “Plum Brook Reactor Hot Laboratory Facility,” Box 252, Folder 12, Plum 

Brook Archives.

Experimenting with the Reactor

Ernest Rutherford was singing “Onward Christian Soldiers” again, just like he 

did every time a new scientific discovery was within his grasp.1

 It was 1901, and 

he and his University of Montreal colleague, Frederick Soddy, were researching the 

mysterious world of radioactivity, a phenomenon that had been discovered only 

five years earlier. X-rays were enabling physicians to see inside their patients for the 

first time, but no one knew what these strange rays were. After intensive, groundbreaking research, Rutherford and Soddy realized that radiation was actually what 

happened when an atom was in the process of changing into an entirely different 

element. Soddy was the first to express his euphoria at the discovery. He said, “I was 

overwhelmed with something greater than joy—I cannot very well express it—a 

kind of exaltation.” The moment he knew what was happening he yelled to his 

partner, “Rutherford, this is transmutation!” A bit less impetuous, Rutherford tried 

to restrain Soddy, saying, “Don’t call it transmutation. They’ll have our heads off as 

alchemists.” But moments later Rutherford himself realized the significance of their 

experimental results and began celebrating in his own unique way, waltzing about 

his laboratory, heartily singing “Onward Christian Soldiers.”2

Rutherford’s moment of discovery in his laboratory is considered the starting 

point for developments that eventually led to the construction of atomic bombs 

and nuclear reactors and the conception of nuclear rockets.3

 It is also emblematic of 

how the public typically imagines the way in which science progresses—the lone, 

1

 Richard Rhodes, The Making of the Atomic Bomb (New York: Simon & Schuster, Inc., 1986), p. 

46.

2

 Spencer R. Weart, Nuclear Fear: A History of Images (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 

1988), p. 6. Muriel Howorth, Pioneer Research on the Atom: . . . The Life Story of Frederick Soddy 

(London: New World, 1958), pp. 83–84; Thaddeus J. Trenn, The Self-Splitting Atom: The History of the 

Rutherford-Soddy Collaboration (London: Taylor & Francis, 1977); Alfred Romer, ed., The Discovery of 

Radioactivity and Transmutation (New York: Dover, 1964).

3

 William Corliss, Nuclear Propulsion for Space (Washington, DC: U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, 

1967), p. 10.

4

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119

greatest radiation shielding capabilities to ensure the safety of astronauts? Important 

questions also surrounded temperature. For example, what were the effects of radiation and high temperatures on the reactor and the rocket’s engines? Did cryogenic 

temperatures also have an effect upon performance? 

The primary focus of the work at Plum Brook was for “hot and cold” materials research needed to answer basic nuclear science questions. Its purpose was to 

perform experiments on material specimens, components, and operating devices 

placed near the reactor to determine their tolerance to radiation, the nature and 

cause of any radiation induced change, and how to increase the radiation tolerance. The “hot” represented the radioactivity and high temperatures generated by 

the nuclear reactions, and the “cold” represented the cryogenic environments that 

materials in space (and from liquid hydrogen) would have to operate in. Together 

these contrasting experimental environments provided the unique qualities of the 

Plum Brook research. No other nuclear test reactor had the ability to test materials 

with such high-powered neutron radiation and simulate at the same time cryogenic 

conditions in space. But “hot and cold” has another connotation as well. It also 

implies a type of hit-or-miss approach that is fundamental to all normal science or 

basic research. The Plum Brook basic research was not simply blind empiricism. It 

was guided by a hypothesis requiring validation through experimental test results 

that explored what materials would best be suited for a nuclear rocket. But a trialand-error, hot-or-cold approach was a component of the Plum Brook program. 

Sometimes the results were significant; at other times the data revealed dead ends. 

Nevertheless, the Plum Brook community was a representation of how scientists 

and engineers wend their way through numerous false starts to eventually uncover 

more promising lines of research.

Materials research was the small piece of investigation assigned to the Plum Brook 

facility to solve. It was small perhaps in the scheme of the discovery of radioactivity, establishing the first test reactor, or testing the first nuclear rocket. But it was 

essential basic engineering research if a nuclear rocket were to ever become a reality. 

This chapter explores a community dedicated to its pursuit of engineering research 

with its powerful reactor as its primary investigative tool. There were no “eureka!” 

moments that resulted in a fundamental change to the foundations of science, but 

there rarely are for the majority of researchers. What did emerge from Plum Brook 

was a large database of new engineering facts concerning radioactive and cryogenic 

environments and their effects on various types of materials and devices. 

The examination of these Plum Brook researchers can help shed new light on 

how similar communities form, interact, work, play, and disband. There were 

moments when this community rejoiced at its technical accomplishments. It took a 

staggering amount of effort and ability to bring one of the most powerful test reactors in the world on line and to make it capable of generating meaningful scientific 

iconic, white-coated genius shouting “eureka!” in the laboratory. The Rutherford 

story fits well with what most people expect to find when they inquire into the scientific past. However, rarely does science advance through these types of punctuated 

achievements and revolutionary discoveries. Instead, science grows through a much 

less glamorous, team-oriented, and slow process that typically remains invisible or 

hidden from public awareness. Sometimes science does not even “advance” at all, 

and experiments reveal little more than that a particular line of reasoning resulted 

in a dead end. 

The scientists and engineers at Plum Brook were not establishing new world views 

on par with individuals like Rutherford. Instead, their basic engineering research 

employed a quiet incremental methodology that was necessary if NASA hoped to 

ever achieve dramatic success with a nuclear rocket. Newton is often quoted as 

saying, “If I have seen farther, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.”4

 More 

accurately in the history of science in the twentieth century, one might say that the 

scientific luminaries have seen farther and established revolutionary ideas because 

their work is based on the cumulative efforts of the numerous, nearly anonymous 

scientists and engineers who came before them. Though less accurate, “standing on 

the shoulders of giants” is a much more exciting notion. 

Prior to Plum Brook, the nuclear field had already established several “giants.” 

The larger theories of radioactivity had already been established; Ernest Rutherford 

had seen to that. Nuclear test reactors had already gone critical in many different 

settings; Enrico Fermi and others had seen to that. Nuclear rocket engines were also 

being tested; facilities like Los Alamos were seeing to that. But despite the nationwide government and industry partnership to build a nuclear rocket (the Nuclear 

Engine for Rocket Vehicle Application program or NERVA), its development 

remained a highly complex undertaking. The United States needed less glamorous, 

yet highly advanced, research facilities like Plum Brook to conduct experiments in 

support of the nuclear rocket program.5

 It was up to the scientists and engineers at Plum Brook to establish new facts and 

answer troubling practical questions related to the construction of a nuclear rocket. 

For example, which metals best maintained their properties in radioactive and cryogenic environments? How quickly would materials exposed to radiation (both from 

space and from the reactor itself) become weak and deteriorate? What types of 

materials endured these environments best? Which of these materials provided the 

4

 Robert K. Merton, On the Shoulders of Giants (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993).

5

 L. Kowarski, “Report on Research Reactors,” in Nuclear Reactors for Research, ed. Clifford K. Beck 

(Princeton, NJ: D. Van Nostrand Company, 1957), pp. 3–27. L. D. P. King, “What a Reactor Can Be 

Used For,” Nucleonics (April 1954): 11.
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come from the nuclear Navy program, and the reactor became known as “Barkley’s 

Navy.”7

 For example, Bill Fecych had been a shift test engineer on the USS Nautilus, 

the first nuclear-powered submarine.8

 These individuals applied their vast nuclear 

experience learned from the Navy to the experimental facilities at Plum Brook (See 

organization charts at the end of the chapter).

A key function of the reactor chief was to coordinate the activities of the reactor 

among the various organizations that sponsored research. There were many different types of individuals and organizations involved in performing an experiment at 

Plum Brook’s reactor. Some experiments were designed by NASA personnel, but 

the majority of them came from outside sponsors. These included the AEC, General Electric, Lockheed, Westinghouse, Sperry Engineering, Atomics International, 

7

 Interview with Dean Scheibly by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

8

 William Fecych Obituary, Sandusky Register (9 March 2004).

Engineers conducting experiments from the reactor control room. (NASA 1970_00860)

data. However, unlike Rutherford’s famous singing in the halls of his laboratory, at 

Plum Brook few outside the gates noticed the moments of success. 

In 1963 NASA engineers at Plum Brook began what they believed to be a longterm investigative program on materials to be used in rockets intended for space 

exploration. Already the program had undergone a massive change in government 

focus through the transition from the nuclear airplane to the nuclear rocket. Within 

10 years the engineers would come to realize that the fate of the nuclear rocket 

would be much the same as that of its aeronautical counterpart. The nuclear rocket 

would never get off the ground and by the early 1970s would lose all political support. By this time the Plum Brook experimental program had achieved a number of 

productive years generating a data base of experimental facts about how a variety of 

materials responded to radiation. But when the engineers realized that the political 

support for nuclear rockets began to wane, they experimented with the reactor itself, 

looking for new ways to use it for a more environmentally conscious era. Emphasizing a technique called “neutron activation analysis,” the engineers tried to find 

a new avenue for support, should NASA pull the plug on the nuclear rocket. The 

Plum Brook engineers postulated that their reactor would be important for improving life here on Earth by using it for experimentation sponsored by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. Although this was a viable new focus, and the Plum 

Brook engineers were making a case that their research was inherently valuable, they 

felt the political and economic tide shifting support away from their mission. This 

chapter explores the experimental program at Plum Brook, from its administration 

to execution, and the unique and unusual attempt to make the transition from 

rockets to environmental research. 

Experiment Administration

With the main elements of the reactor up and running by 1963, the Plum Brook 

nuclear experimental program began operating at peak efficiency. Two years earlier, 

H. Brock Barkley had taken over as reactor chief from Patrick Donoughe, who 

returned to Lewis Research Center. Alan “Hap” Johnson became the head of Plum 

Brook Station.6

 Admiral Rickover had sparked Barkley’s first interest in the nuclear 

field. In 1949 Barkley had graduated from the Naval Academy, and in 1956 he was 

called into Rickover’s office. He became one of the first four officers in the surface 

nuclear program. After 12 years as a naval officer, NASA recruited Barkley to head 

up the Plum Brook reactor facility. He surrounded himself with people who had also 

6

 Interview with H. Brock Barkley by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.
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Once the safeguards committee approved the experiment the operations branch 

had the responsibility for configuring the reactor and setting up the test conditions 

to match the experimental design. Working with the sponsor, the Plum Brook team 

would determine the level of neutron and gamma radiation that was necessary for 

the experiment and the total dose that was required. Then the team calculated the 

position inside the reactor that would provide the best simulated environment for 

the experiment, in relationship to the actual environment to which the materials 

would be exposed. Finally, other factors had to be taken into account. For example, 

liquid hydrogen experiments required super-cold temperatures in the cryogenic 

facility, and thermionic diode experiments required temperatures up to 1800oC.15

The operations branch then coordinated six other sections, which were responsible for evaluating associated problems with the experiments and solving them. 

The reactor operations section managed the reactor and was responsible for the 

operation, control, and adjustment of the reactor during the experimental cycles. 

The process systems section monitored, maintained, and operated the water systems, drainage systems, air systems, the hot retention area, and the radioactive laundry. The electrical equipment section operated all of the commercial, diesel, and 

lighting systems. The mechanical equipment section maintained all of the reactor equipment, including the core, reflector, rabbit tubes, and regulating rods. The 

experimental equipment section was in charge of actually handling the experiment, 

including putting it into the reactor, taking it out, transferring it to the hot laboratory, and performing the data analysis. Finally, the hot laboratory analysis section 

managed all data analysis activities, including experiment disassembly and cut-up, 

and metallurgical and chemical studies. It also coordinated all of the decontamination of the radioactive equipment and packaged all of the radioactive wastes for 

shipment out of Plum Brook.16

An important part of Plum Brook’s TR-3 operating license was to collaborate 

with the AEC to develop the first Test Reactor Technical Specifications. These specifications later became the guidelines for all future test reactors. The specifications 

were more stringent than those for power reactors (which operated under constant 

conditions) because test reactors were designed to operate with a high degree of 

flexibility under a variety of conditions. Plum Brook’s first license did not provide an “envelope” for experiments, however. This envelope set operating limits 

for experiments, and so many of these first experiments required AEC approval of 

15 Interview with H. Brock Barkley by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

16 Interview with Len Homyak by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002; A. B. Davis, B. Lubarsky, 

and T.M. Hallman, “Final Hazards Summary: NASA Plum Brook Facility” (December 1959), pp. 

163–165, Box 252, Folder 8, Plum Brook Archives. 

and the Cleveland Clinic. Typically the sponsors first communicated with Lewis 

Research Center at its nuclear division, headed by Leroy V. Humble.9

 Once this 

division granted its approval, the Lewis Policy Committee assigned a Request for 

Irradiation (RFI) number, and Plum Brook was contacted directly. Plum Brook 

then assigned a project engineer to work with the sponsor to get safety approvals 

and to ensure compatibility between the experiment and the reactor. During the 

early experimental cycles it could be two to three years from the time that the RFI 

was first assigned until the experiment began. As Plum Brook staff became more 

experienced, this process was streamlined.10

After the outside sponsor completed the design of the experiment it went to 

the safeguards committee for review. This committee was advisory to the chief of 

the reactor, and it consisted of the senior managers from Plum Brook, including 

chief of the engineering branch, chief of the operations branch, a health and safety 

officer, and the head of the reactor physics section. In addition, one committee 

member came from Lewis Research Center, and another was a consultant brought 

in from Oak Ridge for specialized problems. Other members came from MIT and 

the University of Virginia. The committee’s job was to make a determination of 

whether the experiment would pose any undue safety hazards if it were put into the 

reactor.11 Specifically the committee’s job was to “determine that the experiment was 

safe, did not violate the reactor technical specifications, and posed no unreviewed 

safety questions.”12 This was an important legal and technical directive required by 

the AEC license. The committee members spent a great deal of time learning about 

each of the experiments before they even sat down together to discuss it. For example, Hap Johnson, former reactor chief, said, “In some cases it was almost volumes 

that you had to read first before you went to the meeting.”13 They were a strict group 

that placed safety first and scientific research second. Earl Boitel recalled, “Many 

times it was difficult to get things through that committee, and rightfully so. I know 

sponsors would call me up and say, ‘Earl can you give me some help?’ I would give 

them some ideas. But you wouldn’t want it any other way.”14

9

 Interview with Jack Crooks by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

10 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002; comments to author from H. 

Brock Barkley, 1 October 2004.

11 Interview with Dick Schuh (a member of the safeguards committee) by Mark D. Bowles, 25 

September 2002. 

12 Comments to author from H. Brock Barkley, 1 October 2004.

13 Interview with Alan “Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002.

14 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.
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experiments and intimately involved with the operation.21

The experiment sponsors also spent a great deal of time in the Plum Brook reactor overseeing the experiments. For example, Lockheed had over 20 people at Plum 

Brook, who were temporarily transferred from its Georgia facility. These engineers 

brought all of their own instruments with them, ran the experiments, and then 

returned home with their equipment and data. NASA provided the neutron beam, 

the neutron radiation, and the expertise of the reactor operators; the rest was up to 

the sponsor.22

By the late 1960s the Plum Brook engineers’ experience had developed to the 

point where they had a good intuitive sense about what would and would not work 

for obtaining valid test data. To assist the sponsors with developing better experiments and to reduce the Plum Brook review time, the reactor staff developed an 

Experiment Standards Guide, which provided sponsors all of the details needed 

to prepare experiments. The guide consisted of eight main sections that described 

various design standards for instruments, control systems, and mechanical devices. 

Other sections covered nuclear analysis, heat transfer, fluid flow, radiochemistry, 

activation analysis, materials selection, electrical design, and postirradiation testing. 

One of the most useful sections helped sponsors determine the experiment environment. H. Brock Barkley wrote, “It is a fact that most existing radiation effects data 

from different sources appear to show wide discrepancies and are frequently difficult 

to correlate. One of the major discrepancies is that the experiment environment is 

not adequately determined.”23 Plum Brook standardized a method to define and 

measure the temperature and neutron fluxes that they hoped would eliminate this 

discrepancy. With these standards in place, in conjunction with the nuclear administration around it, Plum Brook was finally ready to accept experiment sponsors 

(See Table 1 at the end of the chapter). 

NERVA Experimentation

Basic research most typically involves a long series of experiments whose ultimate 

outcome is unknown. Homer E. Newell, head of the Office of Space Science and 

Applications, defined basic research as “the search for new knowledge for the sake of 

21 Interview with Jim Blue by Virginia Dawson, 26 September 2002.

22 Interview with Don Young by Mark D. Bowles, 18 July 2002.

23 H. Brock Barkley, “Significant Experiences of the NASA Plum Brook Reactor Facility,” 1968, 

NASA Technical Memorandum TM X-52491, 15.

technical changes. This proved to be a very laborious process. By the mid-1960s 

Plum Brook was able to obtain approval from the AEC for an envelope for experiments in its Technical Specifications. For this, Plum Brook officials had to appear 

before the prestigious Advisory Committee on Reactor Safeguards, which advised 

the AEC on important safety questions. Once approval was obtained, Plum Brook 

was authorized to perform its own analysis of compliance. This provided considerable flexibility in types, operating conditions, and experimental equipment that 

could be installed and operated. This shortened the time sponsors had to wait for 

the approval of their experiments.17

Once the Plum Brook reactor was up and running, everyone believed that sponsors from around the country would begin seeking out the reactor to perform nuclear 

experimentation. William Fecych, chief of the reactor operations branch, predicted 

that “Large groups of diversified scientific personnel will vie for neutrons.”18 But 

caution was necessary because each of these potential experiment sponsors would 

have to be “guided” through all of the technical requirements of the reactor itself. 

Fecych said that the best people for this job were those who were most experienced 

in the reactor operations—the Plum Brook engineers themselves. Furthermore, the 

sponsors were not always present during all of the irradiations.19 Sponsors wanted 

the results of their scientific experiments quickly and sometimes became frustrated 

over the numerous safety requirements and other procedures that slowed the turnaround times. 

Because these goals of speed and safety were sometimes at odds, relations 

between the sponsors and the engineers at Plum Brook could become strained. A. 

Bert Davis, who at the time was project engineering chief, said that “A lot of the 

experiment sponsors didn’t have, in our view, a proper appreciation of this reactor.” 

The Plum Brook staff believed it was their job to become as informed as possible 

about the experiments themselves and to help the sponsors get valid data from the 

reactor. Davis said, “That made us a little unpopular” because the sponsors often 

did not want to convey confidential information to the Plum Brook staff. Despite 

the problems, Davis firmly held Plum Brook’s “nose to the grindstone to try to get 

meaningful data out of the reactor.”20 The result, whether the sponsors liked it or 

not, was that the Plum Brook engineering team became instrumental in running the 

17 Comments to Author from H. Brock Barkley, 1 October 2004.

18 William Fecych, “PBRF Experimental Program,” 26 March 1964, Box 67, Plum Brook 

Archives.

19 Interview with H. Brock Barkley by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

20 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.
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ties in the past, they have not yielded the kind of information that NASA needs for 

space applications. That is why our job and our programs are so vital to NASA’s 

application of nuclear power to space.”27

One feature that made the Plum Brook reactor unique and important for basic 

research was its cryogenic facility. Nuclear rockets not only had to be able to maintain structural integrity in a radioactive environment; they also needed to withstand 

the intense cold from the liquid hydrogen propellant and space itself. Plum Brook 

installed special refrigeration capabilities that enabled experimenters to both irradiate 

materials and subject them to cold at the same time. The first of these experiments 

27 H. Brock Barkley, “Newsgram #23,” 24 June 1966, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

The reactor at night. Often during the late shifts, the operators would turn off the overhead lights and work 

by the glow of the indicators. (NASA 1959_51300)

new knowledge. [It] can be carried out only in that spirit.”24 Newell always emphasized that there was a great difference between basic research and applied research 

and development. The goals of applied research are well defined, and its efforts 

are directed at achieving specific solutions, whereas the goals of basic research are 

open ended and investigative. But practical application could often be derived from 

earlier basic research. This had historically been the role that NACA played for government. Its contributions of basic knowledge and research for the aircraft industry 

stimulated innovation. Furthermore, it performed research that would have been 

too expensive for industry to explore on its own.25 This was the model that NASA 

hoped to duplicate with the Plum Brook reactor—its main experimental mission 

was NERVA, and it performed basic engineering research into the effects of radiation on materials. 

The Plum Brook reactor became an important tool for helping to gather the 

data necessary to construct a safe and efficient nuclear rocket and to design reactors 

to produce electrical power in space.26 Scientists and engineers derived this data by 

developing an extensive experimental program. There were four basic types: nuclear 

rocket experiments, energy conversion experiments, basic radiation effects studies, 

and basic physics experiments. These experiments consisted of studying materials, 

components, and devices of various shapes and sizes to determine how their behavior changed while they were being irradiated.

The largest sponsors of these experiments were Lockheed, Westinghouse, and 

General Electric. Although these industrial organizations were carrying out the 

work, they were funded by government contracts. They used Plum Brook to investigate the relationship between cryogenic temperatures and radiation, research the 

best materials for the NERVA and Space Nuclear Auxiliary Power (SNAP) programs, and understand the behavior of thermionic diodes and fuel elements during 

and after irradiation (thermionics is the conversion of heat into electricity). In total 

the Plum Brook reactor staff managed 89 experiments (most involving multiple 

irradiation experiments) during its years of operation.

One of the main concerns affecting both the SNAP and NERVA programs was 

how the materials used to build the spacecraft would withstand the damaging effects 

of radiation. The answer to this question became the focus of the experimental 

program initiated at NASA’s Plum Brook Station. The chief of the reactor division, 

H. Brock Barkley, said, “Although many experiments have been run in other facili24 Homer E. Newell, “Scientists Explian U.S. Technical Lag,” Aviation Week (30 December 1957): 

73.

25 Dawson, Engines and Innovation, p. 79.

26 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.
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conditions. That was one of the big . . . interests that NASA had here.”30

Eugene Wigner, from Princeton University, was the first to propose that radiation weakened materials. In 1946 he called the “Wigner Effect” what happened 

when neutrons interacted with structural materials to knock atoms out of normal 

positions.31 He believed that this radiation damage would leave the materials weak 

and ineffective. However, he did not take into consideration the annealing effects. 

When atoms are moved from their original positions, they often relax back into 

place. Sometimes this changes the physical properties and some materials become 

harder, more brittle, etc. Temperature also affected the annealing process, and at 

lower temperatures some atoms would not relax the same way as they might at other 

temperatures. If all metals and alloys responded differently, then basic research was 

needed to measure and classify their reactions to cryogenic temperature and radiation so that the most suitable could be selected for a nuclear rocket. Developing a 

test facility to achieve this was an extremely difficult proposition. Jim Blue from 

the Lewis Research Center recalled, “This was quite a feat because of course the 

radiations from the reactor want to heat things up and here you’re trying to keep it 

cold. It was kind of like trying to cool something and heat it at the same time.”32

Engineers believed the entire setup was “kind of exotic.”33

Plum Brook’s sponsors used the HB-2 experiment tube for cryogenic experiments to investigate the effects of low temperature and high radiation on various 

metals for potential use in space vehicles. The experimental apparatus consisted 

of a refrigeration system, a transfer system, and devices for measuring the resulting strain. There were four cryostats (or test loops) used to measure tensile-fatigue 

compression. Each cryostat was 6 inches in diameter and 9 feet long. One could be 

set up on the floor of Quadrant D, inserted into the core through the HB-2 beam 

port, and then transferred remotely to the hot cave on the outside of the quadrant 

to remove the specimen from the cryostat.34 Tensile testers stretched a dumbbellshaped specimen and measured its physical characteristics.35

Plum Brook constructed a new $1 million cryogenic facility for the NERVA 

30 Interview with Jack Ross by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

31 E. P. Wigner, Journal of Applied Physics 17 (1946): 857.

32 Interview with Jim Blue by Mark D. Bowles, 11 February 2002.

33 Interview with Steven Borbash by Mark D. Bowles, 15 February 2002.

34 Charles L. Younger and Fred A. Haley, “Effect of Nuclear Radiation at Cryogenic Temperatures 

on the Tensile Properties of Titanium and Titanium-Base Alloys,” September 1969, NASA TN D5442.

35 Interview with Jack Crooks by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

was the Lockheed Cryogenic Experiment (62-01).28 The Lockheed experimenters 

knew that an engineering evaluation of the combined neutron-irradiation cryogenic 

effects on materials was a study that was of vital importance for advanced rocket 

design.29 Both of these types of environments (intense cold and radiation) caused 

most alloys and metals to become brittle. However, although various researchers 

had examined the effects of cryogenic temperatures or irradiation on materials, Jack 

Ross, the health physics manager, said, “there had never been, up to this point, the 

ability to simultaneously determine the combined effects of both under common 

28 The first number indicated the year and then the sequence of approved experiments in that year. 

Thus the Lockheed experiment 62-01 meant that it was the first approved experiment in 1962.

29 C. A. Schwanbeck, “Final Report: Effect of Nuclear Radiation on Materials at Cryogenic 

Temperatures,” August 1967, NASA CR-72332.

Engineers working on the installation of the reactor core where experiments would be inserted. (NASA 

1960_55018)
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the NERVA program. The Westinghouse Astronuclear Laboratory was responsible 

for the nuclear reactor designed to go into the engine, and the Plum Brook facilities 

were essential for helping its scientists understand which materials were best suited 

for a radioactive environment. The goal of this experiment (62-16) was to develop 

a cryogenic inpile loop where a variety of NERVA materials could be performance 

tested in a low-temperature and a highly radioactive environment.38 The resulting 

data derived from these experiments would then help scientists and engineers in the 

NERVA program select materials for components that would best hold up under 

the harsh conditions of space and radiation. 

One of the most difficult questions surrounding the Plum Brook experimental 

program was quantifying how important its data were to the scientific community. 

These experiments were all considered basic research, meaning that the reactor’s 

primary mission was simply to better understand how materials responded to a 

radioactive environment. It was often difficult to objectively measure just how valuable and practical such research was in the short term. However, the information 

gained from the Plum Brook reactor occasionally resulted in significant findings 

with immediate results. For example, during the Westinghouse NERVA Experiment 

in 1964, the reactor irradiated pressure transducers (which converted mechanical 

energy into electrical energy) to be used for an upcoming full-scale reactor test in 

Nevada. During the early radiations the transducers failed, which was a complete 

surprise to the Westinghouse operators. This forced them to develop new transducers. Barkley said, “It’s obvious how much more effective, economic, and important 

it was that the problems were detected in this reactor rather than waiting for the 

loss of the transducers to invalidate an extremely expensive and important full-scale 

NERVA reactor test.”39

Nevertheless, a controversy over the validity of the Plum Brook research developed. Not everyone believed that the data the reactor was returning were accurate. 

One engineer, speaking anonymously in a recent interview, said that measurements 

taken from the cryogenic experiments had no statistical relevance. He argued that 

while the cryogenic temperatures changed the physical properties of the materials, 

the radiation from the reactor itself had little if any measurable effect. This engineer 

stated that the same results would have been obtained if the materials were placed 

in cold storage alone without any reactor present. Barkley was aware of this contro38 J. B. McGuffin, “Experiment Design Manual and Hazards Analysis, Plum Brook Reactor 

Facility,” Westinghouse Astronuclear Laboratory, 1 July 1966, WANL-TNR-110; D. L. Burwell, 

“Nuclear Heating Measurement in the Plum Brook Reactor (RE-4),” Westinghouse Astronuclear 

Laboratory, November 1967, WANL-TME-1710.

39 Barkley, “Newsgram #19,” 7 May 1964, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

Components Irradiation experiment (62-16); it was about 20 times larger than the 

one used in the Lockheed Cryogenic Experiment. It had a 20-kilowatt low-temperature helium refrigerator that could maintain a temperature between -409oF and 

-391oF. It could test larger instrumentation components such as accelerometers, 

strain gages, and displacement transducers, as well as smaller components like control drum assemblies, dynamic bearings, and molybdenum instrumentation tubes.36

This further advanced Plum Brook’s unique experimental facilities.37

Westinghouse Astronuclear Laboratory designed experiments for the new cryogenic facility. Along with Lockheed, Westinghouse also played an important role in 

36 “Experiment 62-16, NERVA Components Irradiation,” Westinghouse Astronuclear Laboratory 

Technical Report WANL-TNR-110, Barkley Private Collection.

37 Barkley, “Newsgram #24,” 19 July 1966, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives; Interview with Jim Blue 

by Mark D. Bowles, 11 February 2002.

Diagram of the equipment used for cryogenic experiments. (NASA CS_19377)
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ment subjected various types of aluminum, titanium, and vanadium to the cryogenic 

and radioactive environments. It compared results of materials that were only subjected to cryogenic temperatures, materials that were only irradiated, materials that 

were irradiated while in cryogenic temperatures, and materials that were subjected 

to neither of these environments. C. A. Schwanbeck, project manager for Lockheed 

Nuclear Products, concluded, “The cryogenic irradiation facility described in this 

report is uniquely capable of producing valuable fundamental information on irradiation effects associated with changes in internal stress.”42 One of the important 

findings was that A-286 stainless steel demonstrated no adverse cryogenic or irradiation effects.43 Based on Plum Brook research, Lockheed believed this material was 

suitable for continued investigations of nuclear rocket structures.44

Other important NERVA experiments followed, including the irradiation of 

control drum actuators (62-06). For the NERVA engine, experimenters changed 

the power level by varying the reactivity of the onboard nuclear reactor. One way 

to achieve this was with control drums. Changes in the power level were made by 

rotation of the control drums, which altered the size of the reflecting surface that 

was being exposed to the reactor core. Electropneumatic actuators actually rotated 

the drums. Since they were going to be exposed to radiation, vacuum, and cryogenic 

environments, experiments had to be performed to determine how they would withstand these conditions. Previously test facilities were able to determine the effectiveness of control drum actuators in only one of these environments. Plum Brook was 

able to test in all three. Lewis Research Center designed the experiment, and it was 

carried out in the Plum Brook reactor. After the proposed control drum actuator 

was irradiated for over 21 hours in the HT-2 facility, the actuator failed. Examinations in the Hot Lab revealed extensive radiation damage. This failure meant that 

future control drum actuators would have to be designed differently with materials 

that would be more resistant to a radioactive environment.45

There were other more general problems associated with the NERVA program 

that Plum Brook investigated. S. S. Stein, manager of the Radiation Effects Program 

42 C. A. Schwanbeck, “Final Report: Effect of Nuclear Radiation on Materials at Cryogenic 

Temperatures,” August 1967, NASA CR-72332.

43 Lockheed Nuclear Products, “Effect of Nuclear Radiation on Materials at Cryogenic 

Temperatures,” 1966, NASA CR-54881; C. A. Schwanbeck, “Effects of Interim Warming on Tensile 

Properties of a 286 Stainless Steel Irradiated at Cryogenic Temperatures,” October 1968, NASA CR72475.

44 F. A. Haley and R. R. Wyer, “Irradiation System for Cryogenic Experiments in the Plum Brook 

Reactor,” NASA Technical Memorandum TM X-52203, 1966.

45 David J. Robinson, John T. Mayer, and Richard R. Wyer, “NERVA Control Drum Actuator 

Irradiation Test Program,” NASA Technical Note TN D-5347, July 1969.

versy in the 1960s and agreed that during the early years of the reactor they were 

still struggling to determine how to best construct experiments to return significant 

data. By 1967 he felt confident enough to announce, “We now know how to obtain 

valid test data.”40 One year later, in a congratulatory report to his employees, Barkley said, “Plum Brook has the facilities and competence and is well on the road to 

becoming the standard for the industry in the field of radiation effects.”41

Conclusions from a final Lockheed cryogenic study in 1967 supported Barkley’s 

contention that the reactor was producing valid and significant data. This experi40 Barkley, “Newsgram #27,” 27 October 1967, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

41 Barkley, “Newsgram #28,” 4 June 1968, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

Diagram of an in-pile pumped loop experiment. (NASA CS_19857)
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mechanical components (like the control drum actuators discussed previously).47

Westinghouse Refractory Fuel Compounds (62-15) was the first fueled experiment 

at the reactor, run in August 1964. This meant that the materials could be irradiated at high temperatures and high powers for long periods of time. The ability to 

test fueled experiments was one of the major reasons that the Plum Brook Reactor 

was constructed. Lewis Research Center conducted a study (62-4) on the effects of 

radiation on solid lubricants. This was important because lubricants were exposed 

to a radioactive environment in space and had to maintain their properties for use 

in the nuclear rocket.48

NASA performed other experiments for Westinghouse, one of which was to test 

fuel pins to determine how they would respond to a radioactive environment. Fuel 

pins were metal-clad containers that held fuel pellets. The heat that was generated 

by the fission process was then transferred to the pellets, which then passed through 

the metal containers and into the water. The heated water was the usable energy 

that the reactor generated. The fuel pins were very critical components for power 

reactors because if they failed, then dangerous radioactivity would be released into 

the main heat transport system. In the Plum Brook study the fuels were uranium 

dioxide (considered the “cornerstone of the power reactor industry”) and uranium 

carbide.49 In mid-1963 Westinghouse and NASA began a program to test fuel pins 

for fast reactors in space applications. A fast reactor uses fast neutrons as opposed 

to the thermal neutrons that run in standard nuclear power plants. It was believed 

that this would be an ideal power reactor for the generation of electricity at a lunar 

base.50 The Plum Brook engineers spent a tremendous amount of time in the MockUp Reactor trying to determine a better way to design and construct a fuel pin, 

but ultimately the experiments were not successful.51 M. G. Balfour from Westinghouse wrote that in experiment 62-15 the high incidence of uranium dioxide failure 

resulted in “re-evaluation and termination of the program.”52 Taken together these 

47 D. Newby and S. S. Stein, “Experiment No. 63-05R1,” Westinghouse Astronuclear Laboratory, 

August 1965, WANL-TNR-173.

48 T. P. Jacobson, R. E. Kerkhoff, and H. H. Christenson, “A Capsule Design for Dynamic In-Pile 

Friction Experiments,” 1969, NASA Technical Memorandum TM X-52658.

49 J. Belle, ed., Uranium Dioxide: Properties and Nuclear Applications (Washington, DC: Atomic 

Energy Commission), p. 1.

50 Interview with Robert Defayette by Virginia Dawson, 21 September 2002.

51 Interview with Robert DeFayette by Mark D. Bowles, 29 January 2002.

52 M. G. Balfour, “Irradiation of Refractory Fuel Compounds, UO2

 and US, at High Specific 

Power to High Burnups,” NASA-CR-72515, undated.

at the Westinghouse Astronuclear Laboratory, wrote, “There is at present insufficient 

information on the performance of many items in the high radiation environment 

which is required in the NRX (NERVA Reactor Experiment) system.”46 To explore 

this problem, Plum Brook worked with Westinghouse on a three-year experiment 

(63-05). The engineers inserted a water-cooled capsule containing various materials 

into HT-1 from Quadrant C. These materials included instrumentation components (such as accelerometers), displacement transducers, strain gauges, and small 

46 S. S. Stein, “Experiment No. 63-05,” Westinghouse Astronuclear Laboratory, May 1964, 

WANL-TNR-119.

Technicians move a large “thimble” containing experiments for irradiation into the containment vessel. 

(NASA C-1961-55811)
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thing like meteorite dust hit it and disrupted the thermoelectric equipment.55

NASA assigned the Plum Brook reactor key experiments in support of the SNAP 

program. One problem was that many of the electrical components were sensitive to 

radiation and were damaged after being exposed to this type of environment. One 

solution would have been to construct a shield around them, but this weight would 

reduce the speed and efficiency of the craft. A better solution was to develop components that were radiation tolerant. In particular, semiconductors were an important 

part of this system because of their low weight, low power consumption, and high 

reliability, but they were also the most radiation sensitive of all the electrical components. This was such a significant problem that some considered it to be the most 

important factor in determining the overall reliability of the electrical components, 

the lifetime of the system itself, and even possibly the feasibility of the entire SNAP 

program.56

To help solve this problem, engineers at Plum Brook and Lewis Research Center 

designed a radiation-effects facility around the HB-6 beam hole as the location for a 

semiconductor-device radiation study program. This facility included a tank assembly within HB-6, a test package for mounting the specimens, biological shielding that included stacked blocks formed from paraffin-filled steel and aluminum 

shells, and a flux-measuring system.57 In order for any of these studies to be significant, researchers had to know the neutron flux levels that the semiconductors 

were exposed to. These fluxes changed because of such factors as reactor operating 

conditions, the location of other in-core experiments, and the horizontal and vertical positions in the beam hole. After an extensive research project John M. Bozek 

and Michael P. Godlewski from Lewis were able to develop an empirical prediction equation that successfully predicted the flux.58 Bozek later went on to develop 

another equation to predict the gamma exposure rate for the facility.59 These studies 

helped to pave the way for other experimental research into specific semiconductors 

for the SNAP program. 

55 Interview with Jack Ross by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

56 Julian F. Been, “Effects of Nuclear Radiation on a High-Reliability Silicon Power Diode,” NASA 

TN-4620, June 1968.

57 “Experiment No. 63-09, Radiation Damage of Electrical Components,” H. Brock Barkley 

Private Collection.

58 John M. Bozek and Michael P. Godlewski, “Experimental Determination of Neutron Fluxes 

in Plum Brook Reactor HB-6 Facility with Use of Sulfur Pellets and Gold Foils,” NASA Technical 

Memorandum TM X-1497, February 1968.

59 John M. Bozek, “Experimental Determination of Gamma Exposure Rate in Plum Brook HB-6 

Facility,” NASA Technical Memorandum TM X-1490, February 1968.

various NERVA experiments for Westinghouse and Lockheed contributed basic 

research to the nuclear rocket program. Some were successful, others not, but on 

the whole these experimental programs contributed significantly to the knowledge 

base needed for advancing NASA’s nuclear programs. 

Space Nuclear Auxiliary Power Experiments

NERVA was not the only nuclear space initiative researched at Plum Brook. Engineers also used the Plum Brook reactors to experiment with ways to design better 

circuits and other electrical equipment that could operate reliably and withstand 

the radioactive environment of a space reactor. NASA wanted to develop static, 

nonmoving radioactive electrical generators that would be used in space. These were 

part of the Space Nuclear Auxiliary Power or SNAP program. SNAP was important 

because it had the distinction of being the only nuclear rocket initiative that actually 

became operational. There are still thermoelectric generators used in satellites, space 

probes, on the Moon, and in remote areas on Earth.53 Plum Brook research helped 

to build these devices. 

The main purpose of these SNAP generators from the beginning was to produce 

a very low level of electricity (35 to 50 kilowatts). President Eisenhower actually 

demonstrated a prototype on his desk in the White House that was used to power 

a light bulb. Scientists hoped that more advanced devices would convert nuclear 

power to electricity for longer non-human-piloted flights into the solar system (and 

potentially for future human trips to Mars).54 This was needed because as craft ventured away from the sun, solar-powered cells would not be able to generate enough 

electricity for basic experimental and operational equipment on board to function. 

Furthermore, the sun could not provide enough energy for vehicles that would be 

in orbit for a long time or even for those going to the Moon. Therefore, a nuclear 

power generator appeared to be an excellent option because it had no moving parts, 

was an inexpensive source of fuel, and had a long lifespan. SNAP was also very 

dependable because the only scenario in which it might malfunction was if some53 J. Newell Stannard, Radioactivity and Health, A History (Virginia: Battelle Memorial Institute, 

1988), p. 654.

54 A. W. Nice, “Information on Nuclear Space Power Systems, Volume III, SNAP-8 Mercury 

Rankine Power Conversion System,” March 1970, Internal Memorandum, Glenn Research Center 

Archives.
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Engineers at Lewis Research Center used this radiation-effects facility to devise a 

variety of experiments to investigate the effects of reactor radiation on semiconductors. Nuclear Electric Sub-Systems and Component Irradiation (63-09) explored the 

reaction of electronic equipment to neutron and gamma radiation for the SNAP8 program. Radiation damage occurred every time that radiation interacted with 

matter. What made this problem more difficult was that the damage to the materials 

occurred before any direct visual observations could be made. Experiment 63-09 

helped to explore this phenomenon by electrically energizing components during 

irradiation and developing special test circuits to monitor their behavior and chart 

a graph comparing operation with radiation dosage received.60

For example, Susan T. Weinstein tested 22-volt silicon voltage regulator (Zener) 

diodes by irradiating 25 of them in the HB-6 beam port and documented their 

specific failure points for further examination.61 Julian F. Been investigated silicon 

power diodes that were the first of a series of tests on silicon power devices for the 

SNAP-8 program. Its goal was to help design a more reliable nuclear power generator in space and to correlate changes in the devices’ electrical parameters with basic 

radiation damage theory. After 480 hours of irradiation no major failures occurred. 

But radiation did cause the degradation of some of the electrical characteristics. 

Nevertheless, Been concluded that this diode could be reliably used in a nuclear 

electric power-generating system as long as the radiation levels did not exceed those 

levels simulated at Plum Brook.62

For another promising concept for the SNAP program, scientists had to better 

understand the science of thermionics and how to integrate thermionic diodes with 

the fuel elements in a reactor. George Grover from Los Alamos initiated the investigations that showed the possibility of converting fission into heat electricity. This 

was a very attractive concept, but such an investigation required a new innovation 

in order to obtain valid data. The thermionic diode consisted of two closely spaced 

concentric cylinders around each thermionic reactor fuel element. For thermionic 

emission to be significant temperatures as high as 1,800°C were required, and the 

gap between the concentric cylinders had to be very small (~0.01 inch). Swelling 

of the thermionic reactor fuel with irradiation could eventually close this gap and 

short-circuit the diode. Because of this it was very difficult to accurately measure 

60 “Experiment No. 63-09 Radiation Damage of Electrical Components,” Barkley Private 

Collection.

61 Suzanne T. Weinstein, “The Effects of Reactor Radiation on 22-Volt Silicon Voltage-Regulator 

Diodes,” NASA Technical Note TN D-4923, November 1968.

62 Julian F. Been, “Effects of Nuclear Radiation on a High-Reliability Silicon Power Diode,” NASA 

Technical Note TN-4620, June 1968.

Astronaut Gordon Bean gets ready to insert the plutonium-238 heat source into the Space Nuclear 

Auxiliary Program 2 (SNAP-2) thermoelectric generator. This generator produced 73 watts of power for 

the Apollo lunar surface experiments (1969). (NASA AS12-46-6790)
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improving that environment. 

One of the observations that Robert Oldrieve made in his science fiction novel 

based on his experiences at Plum Brook was that there were many strange objects 

placed inside the test reactor. He wrote, “It seems that everybody wants to irradiate everything they can lay their hands on in hopes of a scientific or commercial 

breakthrough.”66 While at Plum Brook it was easy to understand why materials that 

were potential components for nuclear rockets were the focus of experiments, it was 

more difficult to appreciate the importance of other investigations. For example, 

Plum Brook engineers also inserted Moon rocks, petroleum, coal, and corn into the 

reactor to determine the effects radiation had on their basic makeup. The reason for 

these types of experiments could not have taken the reactor farther away from its 

initial mission of testing rocket components. The new mission was environmental, 

and the sponsors included the Department of Agriculture and the Environmental 

Protection Agency. Although the results were again basic research, the experiments 

also proved the versatility of the Plum Brook reactor facility. 

The new environmental focus for the reactor was an interesting maneuver to try 

to redefine it as a tool for the “green movement,” rather than an enemy of it. The 

term “environmentalism” did not take its current meaning until 1970, and the first 

Earth Day celebration held that year, which drew 20 million people, represented the 

genesis of the modern environmental movement.67 Though its meanings are many, 

it is essentially the crusade to save the Earth from perceived threats by humans and 

technology. One of these central concerns became the nuclear threat not only posed 

by warfare, but also by the radiological waste produced by reactors and the potential 

for a meltdown accident. The green movement began to specifically address concerns about nuclear reactors in the 1960s. The public initially voiced protests over 

the construction of the new power reactors in 1960, and by the early 1970s some 

scientists entered the movement. They argued that the AEC was too lenient on 

industry regulations and placed public safety second. Henry Kendall was a physicist 

who formed the Union of Concerned Scientists, which provided public data in support of the growing “antinuke” movement.68

The environmental movement quickly attained political clout and widespread 

66 Robert Earle, Hot Lab (New York: Vantage Press, 1970), p. 18.

67 Charles T. Rubin, The Green Crusade: Rethinking the Roots of Environmentalism (New York: The 

Free Press, 1994), p. 9; J. Brooks Flippen, Nixon and the Environment (Albuquerque: University of 

New Mexico Press, 2000), p. 1.

68 Hal K. Rothman, The Greening of a Nation? Environmentalism in the United States Since 1945 

(Fort Worth: Harcourt Brace College Publishers, 1998), p. 144; Jerome Price, The Antinuclear 

Movement, rev. ed. (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1990).

very high temperatures. This was eventually achieved through periodic measurement of gap closure by a neutron radiographic facility that could detect expansion 

changes as small as 0.001 inch.63

At Plum Brook the first of its investigations into this area was the Thermionic 

Diode Experiment (63-03), which attempted to demonstrate the feasibility of converting fission heat into electricity. The experiment was placed in a vertical beam 

hole tube (VT-1). General Electric, through its Special Purpose Nuclear Systems 

Operation, sponsored a related experiment.64 Funding for the project came from 

General Electric, along with support from NASA, the AEC, the Office of Nuclear 

Research (ONR), and the Advanced Research Projects Agency (ARPA). This experiment consisted of a long-term test of cylindrical diodes to be used in nuclear thermionic power systems. The performance of the diodes was monitored during irradiation in the Plum Brook Reactor and then was examined at the Vallecitos Atomic 

Laboratory or in the Plum Brook hot laboratory.65 Throughout the 1960s Plum 

Brook continued to support experiments for sponsors like GE, Los Alamos, NASA, 

and others to help design and build effective components for SNAP generators. 

Environmental Experiments

As Plum Brook engineers continued work on the nuclear rocket throughout 

the late 1960s, they began to become concerned over what might happen to their 

facility should the program lose political support and funding. This fear increased 

when it became clear that NASA had no future plan for the space program after the 

Apollo launches were over. While the Space Shuttle was the next big goal, funding for projects like nuclear rockets began to dry up. In response, the staff at the 

Plum Brook reactor began to actively redefine itself and look for additional areas of 

research where it could make a contribution. The new focus was a radical shift away 

from deep space and toward life on Earth as new experimentation emphasized the 

role that a test reactor could play in helping to improve the environment. This was 

something of an ironic role for a nuclear reactor to play, since those who protested 

nuclear power have done so primarily on the grounds of environmental endangerment. Now there was a chance for a nuclear reactor to actually find a way toward 

63 Comments to Author from H. Brock Barkley, 1 October 2004.

64 “Experiment 63-03 Thermionic Diode Irradiation,” Newsgrams, Box 45, Plum Brook 

Archives.

65 “Experiment 64-01 Irradiation of Fuel/Clad Emmiters,” Newsgrams, Box 45, Plum Brook 

Archives.
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could be used as a scientific tool to support the environmental movement, then, 

according to reactor chief H. Brock Barkley, it could “further its chances for survival.”74 The scientific rationale for placing natural materials from the environment 

in the reactor was a procedure called “neutron activation analysis.” In this technique 

a material sample (for example, metals or corn) was bombarded with neutrons to 

make it radioactive. Once this occurred the gamma rays that the sample emitted 

were measured and the constituent trace elements could be accurately identified 

with a multichannel analyzer. Scientists were then able to determine the amounts 

of various elements present in the original sample. The idea for this was first conceived by Georg Hevesy and Hilde Levy in 1936 when they exposed rare-earth salts 

to a natural source of radiation.75 It was not until the 1950s and 1960s that test 

reactors possessed neutron fluxes capable of enabling neutron activation analysis 

to play a significant analytical role in the laboratory. Gary Snyder, assistant chief of 

the project engineering office at Plum Brook, recalled that this technique gained 

widespread media attention as a very significant technique. He said, “The newspapers got involved and this was touted as the best thing since sliced bread.”76 Today it 

remains one of the primary tools that the National Institute of Standards and Technology uses to certify concentrations of elements in standard reference materials.77

The Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) also currently identifies this process 

as “a very powerful tool.”78

Plum Brook was not the only reactor equipped to perform neutron activation 

analysis in the early 1960s and 1970s. Three other commercial reactors, as well as 

government and university reactors, could also conduct these types of experiments. 

But the Plum Brook reactor was unique for several reasons. Because it was one of 

the most powerful test reactors in the world, it was able to identify approximately 

twice as many trace elements as any other facility. One Plum Brook engineer stated, 

“Identification of the source and existence of trace elements, which are potentially 

harmful to man, is the first step in cleaning up the environment and assuring that 

74 H. Brock Barkley, email to author, 28 April 2005.

75 W. D. Ehmann and D. E. Vance, Radiochemistry and Nuclear Methods of Analysis (New York: 

Wiley, 1991).

76 Interview with Gary Snyder by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

77 Michael D. Glascock and Hector Neff, “Neutron Activation Analysis and Provenance Research 

in Archaeology,” Measurement Science and Technology 14 (2003): 1516.

78 “Fact Sheet on Research and Test Reactors,” U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission, found at, 

www.nrc.gov/reading-rm/doc-collections/fact-sheets/research -reactors.html. Accessed 11 May 2005.

public support, and in the late 1960s and early 1970s legislators signed new regulations into law.69 In 1969 Congress passed the National Environmental Protection 

Act, which required all federal agencies to make official statements about any activities that might adversely affect the environment. Harsh penalties were imposed for 

not following the guidelines. For example, in 1971 the Space Nuclear Propulsion 

Office did not prepare a statement for one of its nuclear engine tests. An environmental group protested that the radioactive plume from the engine posed a significant threat to the health and safety of the surrounding community. While their 

lawsuit was pending the program encountered funding problems, layoffs, and its 

eventual cancellation.70 The tide was turning against nuclear research. Thomas Raymond Wellock has argued that this “antinuclear movement halted nuclear construction by modifying the underlying values of state energy regulation.”71

The federal government responded to the new environmental awareness by 

establishing key regulatory agencies in the 1970s. These included the Environmental Protection Agency (1970), the Clean Air Act Amendments (1970), the Federal 

Environmental Pesticide Control Act (1972), the Safe Drinking Water Act (1974), 

and the Toxic Substances Control Act (1976). The AEC itself disbanded in 1975 

and was transformed into the new Nuclear Regulatory Agency.72 But the nuclear 

protesters were most successful on a state and local level and assumed the authority 

to “prohibit nuclear plants, even encroaching on the federal government’s previously 

supreme domination over nuclear safety issues.”73 The environmental movement 

was not directly responsible for Plum Brook’s demise. But the nation was moving 

away from support of nuclear projects, and this made it less likely that the government would allocate funds in its budget to support a controversial long-term reactor, especially if the NERVA project was ever canceled. 

In the midst of this growing environmental awareness the engineers at Plum 

Brook sought to expand the experimental program at their facility. If the reactor 

69 Jacqueline Vaughn Switzer, Green Backlash: The History and Politics of Environmental Opposition 

in the U.S. (London: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 1997), p. 7.

70 James Dewar, To the End of the Solar System: The Story of the Nuclear Rocket (Lexington, KY: 

University of Kentucky Press, 2004), p. 170.

71 Thomas Raymond Wellock, Critical Masses: Opposition to Nuclear Power in California, 1958–

1978 (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1998), p. 4.

72 Glenn T. Seaborg with Benjamin S. Loeb, The Atomic Energy Commission Under Nixon: Adjusting 

to Troubled Times (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1993), p. 232. Jacqueline Vaughn Switzer, Green 

Backlash: The History and Politics of Environmental Opposition in the U.S. (London: Lynne Rienner 

Publishers, 1997), p. 7.

73 Wellock, Critical Masses, p. 6.
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irradiation study at the reactor for either the NERVA or SNAP programs.83

Plum Brook also became involved in another environmental program—developing a way to determine the source of oil spills. Using neutron activation analysis, 

Plum Brook engineers began determining a trace element “fingerprint” of petroleum produced by different countries throughout the world. The hope was that if a 

database were to be established, then once an oil spill occurred, a sample of the spill 

could be sent to a test reactor facility like Plum Brook. Neutron activation analysis 

could be conducted on it, and the trace elements could then be matched up with the 

database to find out which country actually produced the oil and therefore might be 

responsible for the spill.84 Plum Brook was also the only reactor that had accepted 

the challenge of irradiating gasoline. This was considered an important experimental project in the early 1970s.

Other types of neutron activation analysis at Plum Brook included jet fuel to 

determine trace element content in compliance with the Clean Air Act of 1970 

(PL88-206). Corn and other grains were irradiated for the Department of Agriculture to determine trace element content. Dean W. Sheibley wrote, “This work is 

significant because it demonstrates that [instrumental neutron activation analysis] 

is a useful analytic tool for monitoring trace elements . . . related to environmental protection.”85 It was also significant because it began proving that the work at 

the Plum Brook test reactor could extend beyond space applications to protect the 

environment. 

The Value of the Experiments

What was the ultimate value of the experiments performed by Plum Brook? This 

is not an easy question to answer. Chapter 6 will address the premature termination 

of the nuclear rocket program. Due to its demise, much of the importance of the 

Plum Brook reactor went unrealized. Because of this, A. Bert Davis, former reactor chief, alluded in a recent interview to the difficulty of making an assessment of 

the value of the work performed at Plum Brook. In responding to a question about 

what the scientific community learned from these experiments he said, “Well, I don’t 

know that I can answer that too well. You know that we’d irradiate [the materials], 

83 Dean Sheibley, email to author, 5 May 2005.

84 Interview with Robert DeFayette by Mark D. Bowles, 29 January 2002.

85 Dean W. Sheibley, “Trace Elements by Instrumental Neutron Activation Analysis for Pollution 

Monitoring,” Trace Elements in Fuel, ed. Suresh P. Babu (Washington, American Chemical Society, 

1975), p. 98–117.

it remains clean.”79 Plum Brook typically charged its sponsors $150 per sample for 

each neutron activation analysis. 

One of the first neutron activation analysis experiments at Plum Brook focused 

on Moon rocks and lunar soil (70-5). In the 1960s the University of Chicago had 

a contract with NASA to explore the properties of rocks and soil samples sent back 

with the Apollo astronauts. This was one of the experiments that Gary Snyder 

worked on at Plum Brook, and he was in close contact with the University of Chicago. After he irradiated the samples he sent the data back to the university, and he 

would often get an excited call from researchers, who said that they had or hadn’t 

found find a particular element in the analysis. This work was important because it 

enabled the scientists to begin to theorize how the Moon had formed.80

Plum Brook conducted experimental programs for other government agencies 

using neutron activation analysis. The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) 

designed an experiment for the Plum Brook reactor to analyze coal, crude oil, and 

fly ash from coal-fired power plants by neutron activation analysis (70-8). The purpose of the experiment was to take pollution-producing materials and determine 

exactly what elements were released into the air from their use. A typical experiment 

included placing 50 to 100 milligrams of coal into a polyethylene vial. It was irradiated for five minutes, and then the gamma rays from the sample were analyzed after 

decay periods of 5 minutes, 30 minutes, and 24 hours. Another sample was placed 

in a synthetic quartz vial and irradiated for 12 hours, and then the gamma rays were 

analyzed after a 3-week decay period. Plum Brook engineers analyzed the data on 

IBM 360 computers and sent the information back to the EPA as parts per million 

for each of the trace elements in the sample. The results were that calcium, cerium, 

iron, aluminum, barium, potassium, manganese, sodium, rubidium, tin, titanium, 

thorium, uranium, vanadium, and zirconium were concentrated in the fly ash. For 

each ton of coal that was burned, data from the Plum Brook reactor showed that 

a potential hazard existed of emitting 0.3 curies of alpha activity from the 1 part 

per million of the uranium in the coal.81 Plum Brook irradiated over 1,000 samples 

per year in this program for the EPA.82 Taken together, the entire sum of neutron 

activation analysis at Plum Brook resulted in more experimental data than any other 

79 “Operation of Plum Brook Reactor at Reduced Power for Neutron Activation Analysis,” 19 

March 1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook archives.

80 Interview with Gary Snyder by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

81 Dean W. Sheibley, “Trace Element Analysis of Coal by Neutron Activation,” NASA report, 

NASA Technical Memorandum TM X-68208 (August 1973).

82 Dean Sheibley, email to author, 4 May 2005. 
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there. He was proud to have worked there for the first decade of his technical career. 

He said that what should be remembered was that Plum Brook was a “a facility that 

was built and run properly by good people, and it provided a great growth opportunity for all of us youngsters that went there.”92

Jack Crooks, assistant chief of the reactor operations branch, agreed that one of 

the main contributions of the reactor was primary knowledge and the development 

of a corps of nuclear experts. Every time a new reactor went critical it encountered 

many of the same problems that the Plum Brook scientists and engineers had faced 

when they built the reactor in the 1950s and took it critical in 1961. But Crooks 

also believed that the significance was in the technology as well. He said, “We were 

doing things that were new and exciting, pushing the state of the art . . . in the reactor area.”93 As his colleague Earl Boitel, who worked in the experimental equipment 

section, said, “We were on the cutting edge of technology. We were doing things 

that had never been done before.”94 What they left behind was a storehouse of basic 

research. Gary Snyder, assistant chief of the project engineering office, said that 

Plum Brook’s “legacy is the tremendous amount of information that was obtained 

from the experiments.”95 H. Brock Barkley, former head of the reactor, recalled, 

“[We were] innovative and very much the state of the art.”96

But Barkley cited one other area of significance for the facility. He stated that 

Plum Brook and its staff proved that test reactors were able to obtain data at a fraction of cost of full-scale prototypes. Plum Brook achieved its data at one-half the 

irradiation cost (this is the unit many test reactors use to apportion cost to experimenters) of other similar government and private reactors. It achieved this cost 

savings through innovative technical approaches, attention to experimental designs, 

and the development of specialized facilities. After leaving Plum Brook, Barkley 

managed four major test facilities at the National Reactor Testing Station in Idaho 

and used this comparison as the basis for his assessment of Plum Brook’s cost efficiency. Barkley also said that Plum Brook developed “design reviews” before this 

technique became standard in the industry. This “approach” to nuclear experimentation is as important as any technical data that it discovered.97

92 Interview with Steven Borbash by Mark D. Bowles, 15 February 2002.

93 Interview with Jack Crooks by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

94 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

95 Interview with Gary Snyder by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

96 Interview with H. Brock Barkley by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

97 Comments to author from H. Brock Barkley, 1 October 2004.

provide the data to the sponsor and the sponsor then would decide how the data 

was utilized.”86 Plum Brook often represented the middle stage in scientific research. 

It was not responsible for designing the experiments, nor was its job to integrate its 

findings into the space program. This was the function of the sponsor. Plum Brook 

was the radioactive workhorse that permitted these investigations to take place. 

Technical reports written by sponsors of experiments at Plum Brook indicate 

that the data acquired were useful. For Lockheed it was essential because it was 

the only facility where its scientists could expose materials to radioactive and cryogenic environments at the same time. C. A. Schwanbeck, a Lockheed project manager, credited his Plum Brook experiment with establishing “valuable fundamental 

information on radiation effects” for NERVA.87 For Westinghouse the Plum Brook 

reactor helped its scientists to evaluate materials that would not be appropriate for 

fuel pins.88 For NASA the reactor tested key electrical components for the SNAP-8 

program to prove or disprove their viability.89 For the EPA the reactor was able to 

provide neutron activation analyses that could identify significantly more trace elements than any other reactor.90

Most of the former engineers at Plum Brook believed that the reactor’s experimental program had a broader significance. The data from the reactor were stored 

not only in the reports themselves but also in the people who generated them. Even 

after the reactor was shut down, the employees remained in the nuclear industry and 

went on to make significant contributions at other reactors. Don Rhodes, a Plum 

Brook reactor operator supervisor, said that Plum Brook had become a “training 

ground.”91 For example, the Army assigned people to the reactor to learn nuclear 

physics in a hands-on environment, and nuclear power plants sent representatives to 

watch Plum Brook go critical. Steven Borbash from the reactor operations section 

said that while he thought that the story of Plum Brook was important to tell, he 

saw its significance in the personal growth opportunities for the people who worked 

86 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.

87 C. A. Schwanbeck, “Final Report: Effect of Nuclear Radiation on Materials at Cryogenic 

Temperatures,” NASA CR-72332, August 1967.

88 M. G. Balfour, “Irradiation of Refractory Fuel Compounds, UO2

 and US, at High Specific 

Power to High Burnups,” NASA-CR-72515, undated.

89 Julian F. Been, “Effects of Nuclear Radiation on a High-Reliability Silicon Power Diode,” NASA 

Technical Note TN-4620, June 1968.

90 “Operation of Plum Brook Reactor at Reduced Power for Neutron Activation Analysis,” 19 

March 1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives.

91 Interview with Don Rhodes by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.
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developments. Plum Brook achieved very little with regard to establishing specific 

solutions for the space program that are in use today. But this is primarily because 

the government terminated the nuclear rocket program. Therefore it is unfair to 

judge it by the number of applications it developed. It was difficult to quantify the 

significance or the accomplishments of a program that ended before it was able to 

reach completion. Harold Finger concluded, “Fundamentally Plum Brook really 

did work in a very broad science area and established a significant science base in 

radiation effects that would relate to flight systems broadly.”103 This was the legacy 

of the experiments that Plum Brook performed. Plum Brook helped to establish a 

unique data base on the effects of radioactive and cryogenic environments on materials to be used for nuclear rockets and space reactors for electrical power. Though 

not responsible for groundbreaking new theory or well-remembered “eureka!” 

moments, its history is representative of the way in which our modern scientific 

enterprise functions. Had the nuclear rocket program remained a national priority, 

Plum Brook would have played an essential role in its success. 

There was one other area that contributed to Plum Brook’s legacy today. For 

John Acomb the significance of Plum Brook was its exemplary safety record, which 

could serve as a model for future reactors. He said, “I think that the safety record 

was impeccable . . . .[It] speaks well of the people that were involved in that program 

and the care and detail of the safety of that facility and the surrounding community.” 104 It is this legacy of safety that we turn to in the next chapter. 

103 Interview with Harold Finger by Virginia Dawson, 4 April 2002.

104 Interviews with John Acomb by Mark D. Bowles, 13 February 2002, 8 July 2002, 21 September 

2002.

In contrast to the comments from Boitel, Barkley, and Crooks, John Acomb saw 

the significance of the reactor differently. Acomb was the instrument development 

section head; he left Plum Brook to work for Los Alamos in the late 1960s. He said, 

“We weren’t pioneering. We were following other people’s guidelines.”98 When he 

finally heard that the reactor was closing in 1973, his only surprise was that the end 

had not come sooner. He said, “I wasn’t surprised at all that it shut down, I was just 

surprised that it had lasted as long as it had.” 

In part, Robert DeFayette, radiochemistry section head, agreed with Acomb. He 

said, “We did a lot of experiments at the reactor and I’ve asked myself at times, well 

what did this contribute to . . . science in the country?” His answer was, “Frankly, 

I’m not sure the work that we did contributed that much to the space program.”99 In 

the years immediately following the closure of Plum Brook, NASA itself struggled 

to specifically define the importance of what went on there. For example, in 1976 

NASA listed its accomplishments simply as a number of experiments on radiation effects at cryogenic temperatures. Although NASA could point to no specific 

accomplishment, it concluded only that the “work was an important element of the 

Agency’s ill-fated nuclear research program.”100 In looking forward NASA said that 

there was “no foreseeable need for the reactor facility.”101

Nevertheless, DeFayette regarded Plum Brook as an example of what the United 

States was capable of when it combined educated people with financial backing and 

a defined goal. The Apollo program and the Manhattan Project were two of the 

most famous examples of this type of endeavor and, on a smaller scale, Plum Brook 

was also born of the same national interest. DeFayette said that NASA’s efforts with 

the reactor demonstrated that the “country can put its mind to do something, get 

together a group of people, and they can get it done.”102 The converse, however, was 

also true. When the country loses its desire to accomplish these goals, the facilities 

and the people who built and operated them are no longer needed. This loss of 

political support then is often the prevailing factor determining the success, failure, 

or inconclusiveness of the science itself. 

The question of the significance of its experiments still remains. The results of 

its experiments were not associated with any groundbreaking ideas or technical 

98 Interviews with John Acomb by Mark D. Bowles, 13 February 2002, 8 July 2002, 21 September 

2002.

99 Interview with Robert Defayette by Virginia Dawson, 21 September 2002.

100 “Plum Brook Station Retention Plan,” 1976, Box 106, Folder 11, Plum Brook Archives.

101 Ibid.

102 Interview with Robert DeFayette by Mark D. Bowles, 29 January 2002.
Science in lux . . . f

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Experimenting with the Reactor

151

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

62-05R1 Interim NERVA 

Irradiation

Modifications to the previous 

experiment were made to improve 

the reliability of the system. 

62-06 30, 

45-49, 

55-75

General Electric 

NERVA Actuator

After a great deal of setup time, in 

November 1967, drum actuator type 

AG-20 was irradiated for 65 minutes 

at 60 megawatts of power. 

62-07 3, 5-8, 

12-15, 

19-24, 30

Mallory and Tungsten 

Irradiation

Determined the radiation effects on 

material properties and corrosion 

resistance of Mallory 1000 and pure 

tungsten.

62-07R1 76-78 Radiation Effects on 

Material Properties of 

Tungsten

A capsule that contained 30 tungsten 

tensile test specimens was irradiated. 

62-09 3 PB Space Propulsion 

Facility Activation 

Measurement

Determined the optimum material 

composition for walls at Plum 

Brook’s Space Propulsion Facility. 

Rabbits were irradiated with samples 

of unclad and cadmium clad 304 

stainless steel and unclad and 

cadmium clad 5083 aluminum. 

62-12 19, 21, 

23-45, 49, 

51-53, 55, 

62, 63, 

65, 70-72, 

76, 79,91, 

96-100, 

102-104, 

108, 109, 

111, 118, 

146

Fueled Material 

Specimens Irradiation

Evaluated the fuel and fission product 

retention qualities of tungstenuranium dioxide dispersions, which 

are fission heated to anticipate 

rocket fuel element operating 

temperatures. Capsules from 

this experiment were sent to the 

Battelle Memorial Institute and the 

Westinghouse Electric Corporation 

for postirradiation examination. 

62-12R1 73-75, 77, 

78, 81, 

82, 85-93

95-152

Fueled Material 

Specimen Irradiation

A series of tests determined the 

extent of uranium dioxide relocation 

and densification in small fuel 

pins operating at high clad surface 

temperatures. During cycle 88 

engineers irradiated a stainless-steel 

shell-type capsule, containing a 

sealed fuel pin. The purpose of this 

experiment was to provide a capsule 

required for checkout of the Plum 

Brook hot cell fracturing device and 

to determine the extent of pressure 

buildup in the sealed fuel pin. 

Table 1. Reactor Experiments

Note: Data from this table were compiled from the 152 reactor cycle reports 

located in the NASA Plum Brook Station’s Library. The cycle column does not only 

refer to when the experiments were in the reactor, it also indicates when preparatory 

work began in setting up the equipment. Footnotes to technical reports on these 

experiments not described in the main text also appear here. 

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

62-01 3, 5-84 Lockheed Cryogenic 

Experiment

Determined the effects of radiation 

on metals at cryogenic temperatures. 

This took place in HB-2 and 

Quadrant D. 

62-02 36-52,

54-63, 75

In-Pile Helium Cooled 

Loop

Aided in evaluating loop performance 

under gamma heating on the in-pile 

experiments. A great deal of effort 

went into preparing equipment for 

this type of experimentation. 

62-03 3-11,

30, 31, 

33-45,

58-61, 64, 

75-79,

83-88,

92-94, 

96-100, 

102-103

Neutron Scattering & 

Diffraction Experiment

Provided a collimated beam of 

gamma and neutron radiation for use 

by experimenters.

62-04 76,

78-152

Irradiation of Solid Film 

Lubricants

The experimental data for this test 

were programmed on the EDLAS 

computer. 

62-05 19, 

21-31, 

33-91, 

93-111

Neutron Diffraction Utilized a collimated beam of thermal 

neutrons emerging from HB-4 to 

conduct experiments in basic physics, 

and more specifically in neutron 

diffraction studies. This was initially 

sponsored by Kent State University. 

For example, during one cycle 52 

data point runs were made with a 

barium chlorate monohydrate crystal. 

During another, in cycle 80, 93 data 

points were made with a calcium 

bromate monohydrate crystal. 
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Experimenting with the Reactor

153

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

63-03R2 82-87, 

95-98, 

100-112, 

119-122, 

126- 128, 

130-134, 

137, 139

Thermionic Diode 

Irradiation

The diode was irradiated at defined 

temperatures to see how it would 

react. During cycle 83 the diode 

would not generate current. 

63-03 28-38, 58, 

60, 76, 

93, 94, 

100, 115, 

116,122

Martin Thermionic 

Diode Irradiation

Demonstrated the reliable 

performance of a state-of-the-art 

thermionic diode in a nuclear reactor. 

63-04 76, 78-84, 

88, 93, 

95-98

Thermionic Reactor 

Fuel Form and Insulator 

Irradiation

Thermocouple readings were 

measured as the experiment capsules 

were subjected to helium and argon 

at various power levels in the reactor. 

Polaroid photos were then sometimes 

taken of the disassembled capsules. 

63-05 4-8, 14, 

16, 17, 

20, 22, 

28, 29, 

55, 58, 60

Westinghouse Interim 

NERVA Experiment

Provided information on materials 

selection for components used for 

the NERVA reactor designed by 

the Westinghouse Astronuclear 

Laboratory. 

63-05R1 30-48, 58 NERVA Transducer 

Irradiation Program

Sponsored by Westinghouse, 

this modified the previous 63-05 

experiment was the addition of a 

charging table. Other modifications 

included an HT-1 isolation valve, a 

capsule seal assembly, a seal pump, 

controls for the table drive, a pump a 

valve motor, and new piping. 

63-07 3-6 Rabbit Test of Mallory 

Material to Establish 

Source of Tungsten in 

Coolant

Investigated the tungsten 187 

buildup in the primary cooling water 

system during the reactor’s full power 

operation.

63-08 14, 15 Sperry Experiment: 

Irradiation of Digital 

Computer Components

Evaluated the radiation temperature 

resistance of materials used in digital 

computer switching circuits. 

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

62-13 102-103, 

105

Unnamed Unknown

62-13R1 42-45 Thermionic Materials 

Irradiation

Irradiation studies of thermionic 

materials.105

62-13R2 80-116, 

118, 119, 

124-126

Thermionic Materials 

Irradiation

Two capsules containing uranium 

carbide fuel were irradiated to 

determine suitability for use in a 

high-temperature reactor.106

62-14 3-105,

107-152

Irradiation of PBRF 

Materials

Investigated the long-term effects 

of critical materials used in the 

construction of the reactor. For 

example, in cycle 4, 60 carbon steel 

specimens that were identical to the 

material that the reactor pressure tank 

was constructed from were irradiated. 

62-15 20-73, 97 Fuel Refractory 

Compounds Irradiation

Studied the effects of irradiation of 

refractory fuel components at high 

specific power to high burnups. This 

was the first fueled experiment. It was 

sponsored by Westinghouse. 

62-16 64, 65, 76 NERVA Components 

Irradiation

This included shielding materials 

tests. 

63-01 11-28 Measurements of 

Materials for SPF Walls

Tested the radiation effects on the 

full-scale thickness of the Space 

Propulsion Facility chamber walls. 

This included aluminum place and 

foils and non-borated concrete 

block.107

63-02 25-27, 30 Thermal Conductivity 

of Refractory Fuel 

Compounds

Continuously measured the in-pile 

thermal conductivity of high-density 

UO2

 fuel at temperatures up to 

2,200°C.108

105 Gulf General Atomic, “Studies of Thermionic Materials for Space Power Applications,” 1969, 

NASA CR-72517.

106 John R. Smith and Gary L. Snyder, “Irradiation of Uranium-Carbide Fuel Forms,” 1969, 

NASA Technical MemorandumTM X-52696.

107 John J. Smithrick and Ira T. Myers, “Effects of Cable and Circuit Parameters on the Precision 

Calibration of a Charge Amplifier,” 1967, NASA Technical Note TN D-4300; Smithrick and 

Myers, “The Energy Required to Produce an Electron-Hole Pair in Silicon by Tritons,” 1966, NASA 

Technical Note TN D-3694.

108 M.G. Balfour, J.A. Christensen, and H.M. Ferrari, “In-Pile Measurement of UO2 Thermal 

Conductivity,” 1966, NASA CR-54740.
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Experimenting with the Reactor

155

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

64-02 12-14,

30-34, 36

Copper Irradiation Produced the Cu-64 isotope by 

exposing a high purity copper foil 

to a thermal neutron flux. The 

Cu-64 can be used as a positron 

source to investigate the behavior of 

positronium in liquid gases. 

64-03 12, 20 Unnamed Produced a radioactive source 

(sodium-24) of such magnitude 

that it can be used to evaluate the 

decontamination efficiency of the 

newly built evaporator located at the 

PBRF waste-handling building. 

64-04 22, 24-26, 

28-43, 50, 

51, 65

Concrete Materials 

Trace Element Control

Determined by neutron activation of 

concrete samples whether or not the 

sample batch was satisfactory for the 

construction of the Space Propulsion 

Facility biological shield. 

64-06 89-92, 95, 

97, 98, 

100-105, 

107-112,

117-119

Radiation Damage 

Experiments in Ion 

Complexer and 

Exchanger Systems

This purpose of this experiment was 

to procure basic data necessary to 

determine the feasibility of a concept 

for control of a water-moderated 

nuclear reactor.110

65-01 40 Production of Uniform 

Line Source

Thirty-eight target specimens were 

loaded into two rabbits. Deionized 

water was added to each of the 

rabbits, which were then welded 

shut. The rabbits were then irradiated 

for just over 61 hours and then 

inspected. The rabbits ruptured. A 

modified vent enabled the rabbits to 

remain sealed, and the experiment 

was continued for a full 80-hour 

irradiation. 

65-02 41, 42, 44 NaCL Crystals Three NaCl crystals were placed in 

polyethylene containers and loaded 

into three rabbits. They were then 

irradiated. 

110 J. L. Power, “In-Pile Gamma Dosimetry Measurements with Oxalic Acid,” 1969, NASA 

Technical Memorandum TM X-52678.

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

63-09 8, 24-75, 

122

Nuclear Electric 

Sub-Systems and 

Component Irradiation

Investigated the effects of neutron 

and gamma radiation on the input 

and output parameters of nuclearelectric components and subsystems. 

The experiment was for the SNAP-8 

program. In cycle 32 a sheet metal 

“roof” was constructed over the 

instrumentation rack to prevent 

damage from water drippage. 

63-09R1 76-79,

81-88, 

92-96, 

99-105, 

107-129

Nuclear Electric 

Subsystems & 

Components

Testing included a foil plate and 

holder with thermocouples attached. 

Argon-41 buildup and biological 

shielding effectiveness were 

conducted. 

63-10 23-30 Alumina Insulators 

Irradiation

Examined the effects of radiation on 

the electrical resistivity of high-purity 

alumina insulators. 

63-11 10, 11 Unnamed Investigated radiation effects on 

tungsten metal. Most important, 

it examined the elastic recoil 

mechanism of tungsten and 

tungsten effective resonance integral 

measurements. 

63-11R1 31 Unnamed Two rabbits with tungsten specimens 

and flux-measuring foils were 

irradiated for 60 seconds. They were 

then packaged in the hot lab and sent 

to the experiment sponsor. 

63-12 46-56, 

58

Radioisotope Electrical 

Generator

Unknown

63-12HL 45, 57-61, 

88, 93-96. 

98-103, 

105 

Radioisotope Electrical 

Generator

Tested and evaluated the concept 

of direct conversion of the kinetic 

energy of radioisotope decay into 

electrical power. 

64-01 58 Irradiation of Fuel/Clad 

Emitters

Experiment performed on thermionic 

diodes for General Electric sponsor, 

Vallecitos Nuclear Center, in 

California.109

64-01R1 38-58 Fuel/Clad Emitter 

Irradiation

Modifications made to improve 

previous experiment

109 General Electric Company, “Development Program on Long Term Testing of Cylindrical 

Thermionic Diodes and the Irradiation of Fuel and Insulators,” 1968, NASA CR-72580.
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Experimenting with the Reactor

157

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

67-01 58-61,

63-65, 81

Irradiation of Glassy 

Silicates

Six irradiations were initially 

performed in the rabbit facility, and 

the specimens were then sent to the 

Case Western Reserve University for 

analysis. 

67-04 87-105, 

107-123

Radiolysis of Water The objective of this experiment was 

to investigate the pressure buildup 

and composition of gases resulting 

from the radiolysis of water in sealed 

aluminum containers.111

67-05 71-82 Micrometeorite 

Irradiation

This experiment consisted of 

three powder containers that held 

two major crystalline silicates of 

meteorites (Olivine and Enstatite) 

and six flux monitors. 

67-06 76-78, 

80-88, 92, 

93, 113

Nuclear Reactor 

Materials Evaluation

This included testing like an 

experiment in cycle 93. This 

included seven wear test specimens 

for metallurgical examination. Also, 

18 fatigue and 6 tensile specimens 

were placed in Hot Cell #1 to await 

reloading into future capsules for 

irradiation. Corrosion tests were also 

started on 21 specimens in 200°F 

deionized water. The fatigue testing 

equipment was built by Material 

Testing Systems (MTS). 

67-06-71 94 Nuclear Materials 

Evaluation Program

Unknown

67-06-81 94-96, 98, 

103, 105, 

115-140

Fatigue and Tensile 

Properties of Irradiated 

Materials

Unknown

67-06-91 99-105, 

107-112, 

120-127, 

129-142

Irradiation of NERVA 

Materials

Materials included Waspaloy, 

Inconel, and General Dynamics test 

specimens. 

111 Dean W. Sheibly, “Design of a Lead-Type Capsule System to Investigate the Radiolysis of 

Water,” 1969, NASA Technical Memorandum TM X-52663.

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

66-01 44, 54, 

59-62

Irradiation of Various 

Insulating Materials

Two Al2

O3 crystals were irradiated for 

574.4 MWD in a rabbit. A silicon 

carbide crystal was also irradiated at 

60 megawatts for 24 hours and then 

sent to Lewis Research Center for 

analysis. 

66-03 76, 77, 

80-82, 84, 

85

Irradiation of Bulk UO2

Fuel/Clad Bodies 

These experiments included lengthy 

irradiations. For example, during 

cycle 80, a capsule was operated 

at the desired temperature for 241 

hours. 

66-03-01 78, 79, 

83, 86-94

Irradiation of Bulk UO2

Fuel/Clad Bodies

Unknown

66-03-2 95-98, 

100-119, 

121, 123

Irradiation of Bulk UO2

Fuel/Clad Bodies

In cycle 105 the capsule was 

inserted into reactor tank in 1-inch 

increments to obtain the designed 

operating temperature. The capsule 

was then withdrawn completely in 

one motion, letting the temperature 

stabilize. This was done 50 times as 

quickly as possible to study the effects 

of thermal cycling on the fuel and 

thermocouples. 

66-05 47, 76 Neutron Irradiation of 

Ammonium Bromide

A 5-milligram sample of ammonium 

bromide (NH4

Br) was irradiated for 

30 minutes at 60 megawatts and then 

was sent to Lewis Research Center for 

analysis. 

66-06 92-105, 

107-152

Fission Gas Retention 

Studies

In Cycle 106 the irradiation lasted 

330 hours or 93% of the total time 

available for that cycle. The fuel pin 

was operated at three temperature 

levels. Fission gas release data 

were also collected with the online 

detection instrumentation. The 

capsule contents were UO2

. 

66-07 59-66 Charpy Impact 

Specimen Irradiation

Irradiation of high-strength 

aluminum specimens.

66-08 73-75, 

80, 81, 

84, 86-88

Irradiation of a Rare 

Gas-Filled Thermionic 

Diode

This experiment was installed in 

the experiment 62-16 (NERVA 

irradiation) water-cooled capsule. 
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Experimenting with the Reactor

159

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

69-01-2 111-113, 

115-152

Nuclear Experiment 

Power Reactor 

Technology Fuel 

Capsule 

Irradiations II

Unknown

69-01-3 139-152 Space Power Reactor 

Technology

Unknown

69-02 108, 109, 

111, 128, 

133, 144

Unknown Unknown

69-03 98-100 Irradiation of Apollo 

Glycol-Water Solutions

Vials containing glycol-water were 

irradiated for 4 hours (cycle 98) and 

then analyzed in the radiochemistry 

laboratory. 

70-01 106, 107, 

109, 112, 

115, 116, 

118, 123, 

126, 128-

131, 133, 

135, 136, 

139, 140, 

143-145, 

147-152

Irradiation of Lunar 

Soil

Several vials that contained 1.2 

grams of lunar soil (Cycle 106) were 

irradiated in the rabbit facility for 6 

days. The rabbit was then sent to the 

hot laboratory, where the vials were 

removed, packaged, and shipped to 

the experiment sponsor. In Cycle 

107, 0.6 gram of lunar soil, 1 gram of 

Columbia River basalt, and 1 gram of 

ordinary chondrites were irradiated 

for 6 days, and the samples were then 

sent back to the sponsor. 

70-02 118-122, 

124-137, 

142, 143

Vapor Transport Fuel 

Pin Experiment

Unknown

70-03 111, 112 Irradiation of Pyrolytic 

Graphite

Unknown 

70-04 112, 

113, 

115-119

Irradiation of Grain 

Boundary Impurities

In Cycle 115, 5 pairs of grain 

specimens were irradiated in the 

rabbit facility for 94 hours and then 

unloaded in the hot laboratory and 

sent back to the experiment sponsor. 

70-05 111, 

118, 

120, 

126, 

130-134, 

137

Irradiation of Lunar 

Soil, Meteorites, 

Terrestrial Rocks, and 

Standards

Unknown

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

67-07 76, 77, 

79, 81, 

82, 91, 

94-112, 

114-139, 

142-150

Irradiation of GasCooled Fuel Pins for 

Compact Reactors

This experiment arrived at the reactor 

from Oak Ridge on 21 May 1968. 

One test (cycle 103) attempted to 

measure the diffusion rate of gaseous 

fission products in a static system.112

68-01 76, 79-82, 

84, 86, 

87, 89, 

104, 107-

109

Irradiation of Plastic 

Containers

Over 25 samples of plastic were 

irradiated for various lengths of time 

and then were analyzed in the hot 

lab. This was increased to 50 samples 

in cycle 81. In Cycle 104, 15 plastic 

vials—which contained with lead, 

aluminum, or air samples—were 

irradiated and then analyzed at the 

radiochemistry laboratory. 

68-03 105, 

128-139

Nuclear Thermionic 

Ceramic Insulators

Unknown

68-04 89-91,

94, 95

Radioactive Tracer 

Production for Tektite 

Research

Unknown

68-05 92, 94, 

100-102, 

105-142

Irradiation of 

High-Temperature 

Thermocouples

The temperature of the irradiation 

was 1,600°C.113

68-06 93-101, 

103-105

Hot Laboratory 

Examination of 

Irradiated Tri-Layer 

Specimens

Sponsored by Oak Ridge. The 

high-temperature vacuum furnace 

was placed in cell #1. It raised the 

temperature of the experiment to 

2,200°C with a vacuum. In cycle 

105 metallographic specimens were 

photographed at 250× and 500× 

magnification

69-01-1 107-152 Nuclear Experiment 

Power Reactor 

Technology Fuel 

Capsule Irradiations I

Fuel pins received from the 

experiment sponsor were irradiated. 

In Cycle 107 samples of stainless 

steel were irradiated to determine the 

variation of cobalt content. 

112 G. E. McDonald, H. A. Putre, M. C. Swanson, P. M. Finnegan, and L. Homyak, “Compact 

30KW Circulating Helium Capsule for Fuel Element Tests in NASA Plum Brook Reactor,” 1969, 

NASA Technical Memorandum TM X-52676.

113 James D. Heckleman, “A Retractable-Replaceable Thermocouple for In-Pile Experiments,” 

1969, NASA Technical Memorandum X-52654.
Science in lux . . . f

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Experimenting with the Reactor

161

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

71-03R1 139, 

141-147, 

149, 

150, 152

Determination of 

Hazardous Trace 

Elements in Samples 

& Fuels

Unknown

71-05 128, 

132, 

133, 

136, 139

Radioisotope F-18 

Production

Unknown

71-07 135, 

136, 

140-144

Radiation of Reentry 

Heat Shield Material

Unknown

71-08 133, 134 Irradiation of Pure 

Silicon

Unknown

71-09 137-139 Irradiation of Corn Unknown

72-01 143,

150-152

Unknown

72-02 140 Irradiation of Thin 

Silver Films

Unknown

72-03 149-152 Nuclear Power Reactor 

Technology IV

Unknown

72-04 Unknown Unknown

IT-A-1 Neutron Radiographic 

Facility

This was located underwater in 

quadrant A. It used a voided tube 

to direct a neutron beam through 

a specially designed 15-foot-long 

collimator. The collimated beam 

of thermal neutrons that emerged 

provided a 3-inch by 3-inch area 

suitable for radiography. For 

example, in cycle 89 tests included 

evaluation of different types of x-ray 

film provided by Eastman Kodak 

and Agfa-Gevaert. It was also used 

to irradiate fuel pins. 

 

 

Exp. # Cycles Name Description

70-06 127, 

132-152

Thermionic Reactor 

Fuel Form Irradiation

Unknown

70-07 117, 118 Irradiation of 

Meteorite Crystals

Unknown

70-08 117, 

119, 

120, 

122, 

123, 

125, 

126, 

128-152

Irradiation of 

Particulate Materials 

from Cuyahoga 

County Air Samples

Unknown

70-09 117, 

118, 

120, 

121, 

123, 

126, 

129, 

130, 

133, 

134,

136, 

139-142, 

147, 151

Irradiation of 

Extraterrestrial 

Material

Unknown

70-11 125,

138-144, 

146-151

Loss of Coolant 

Experiment

Unknown

70-12 118-146, 

148

Irradiation of NERVA 

Materials at Cryogenic 

Temperatures

During Cycle 119, 25 specimens 

of aluminum were loaded into the 

cryogenic capsule and irradiated at a 

temperature below 77 Kelvin. 

71-02 142, 

143, 

145, 

150- 152

Unknown Unknown

71-03 124-129, 

131, 

133-138, 

140, 151

Determination of 

Mercury & Selenium 

in Air Particulate

Unknown
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Experimenting with the Reactor

163

 
Science in lux . . . f

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Experimenting with the Reactor

165

Living with Radiation

Myrna Steele, a physicist in the Plum Brook nuclear experiments section, was 

one of many employees who worked long hours to help to prepare the reactor for 

its initial criticality. She recalled the difficult schedule of days, nights, and weekends 

and remembered one evening in particular when she needed to get away for a short 

break. She decided to make an appointment at a beauty parlor and called a local 

salon to schedule a 7:00 p.m. appointment. When she arrived and sat down in the 

chair, she asked the beautician to wash and cut her hair as quickly as possible because 

she was on her dinner break and did not want to be late returning to work. The 

woman washing her hair seemed surprised that Myrna was working so late at night 

and asked her what she did for a living. Myrna told her that she was an employee 

at the NASA Plum Brook test reactor. The beautician immediately stopped soaping 

her hair and asked, “You mean that place where they make radioactivity?” Myrna 

said that she had never heard it put quite that way before, but that yes, the reactor 

generated radioactivity for experimental purposes. The woman seemed more perplexed and exclaimed, “You mean you actually work at the reactor?” When Myrna 

said yes, the woman disappeared, leaving her hair wet and full of soap. Several minutes passed before the owner of the salon appeared and asked Myrna if she could 

finish her hair. When Myrna asked what happened to the other girl, the owner said, 

she was “afraid you’ll radioactivate her.”1

These concerns about radioactivity were not isolated to Plum Brook but by the 

1970s were part of the nuclear fabric in the United States. In 1973 (the year that 

the Plum Brook reactor shut down) E. F. Schumacher wrote that radiation was the 

“most serious agent of pollution in the environment and the greatest threat to man’s 

survival on earth.”2

 Twenty years later these fears had not lessened, and in the 1990s 

sociologist Kai T. Erikson wrote that radiation “clearly has a special place in the 

1

 Interview with Myrna Steele by Mark D. Bowles, 7 February 2002.

2

 E.F. Schumacher, Small Is Beautiful: Economics as if People Mattered (New York: HarperCollins, 

1989), p. 143.

5

167
Science in lux . . . f

168

Living with Radiation

169

In many cases scientists do not realize the intense social and cultural impact their 

work has on the public. This is often the case with those engaged in research involving radioactivity. While scientists and engineers who work in reactors understand 

better than anyone the potentials and perils of fission and radiation, they often fail to 

appreciate the growing pervasiveness of nuclear fear. The fear originated early in the 

twentieth century with concerns about transmutation and the mysterious powers of 

atomic rays. The fear was intensified during the bomb shelter craze during the Cold 

War in the 1950s, when the public was frequently told that nuclear war might be 

imminent. It entered a new phase with antinuclear protests in the 1960s and 1970s, 

and today the United States remains more skeptical and concerned than ever about 

the use of nuclear power. The author of the history of Los Alamos National Laboratory wrote, “Even understanding the science behind radiation does not necessarily 

erase the profound fear that it inspires. . . . As much as the average citizen struggles 

to comprehend the mind-set of scientists, the technical culture often fails to understand the deeply entrenched fears and concerns of the general public.”8

To the credit of those who worked at NASA, a great deal of effort was devoted 

to informing the public about reactor safety and explaining the details of its declassified experiments. Through tours, lectures, and a constant emphasis on safety, the 

reactor staff worked hard to ensure positive community relations. Over time the 

surrounding community slowly learned to accept the fact that they lived next to 

a mysterious region that was performing secret radioactive work for the government. However, some of the reactor neighbors would never come to terms with the 

perceived dangers of living close to a place that produced radioactivity. Some hairdressers would always be afraid to touch the heads of people who worked at Plum 

Brook for fear that they would “radioactivate” them. Some farmers would remain 

convinced that the reactor would make their chickens produce square eggs. For 

some nuclear fear would never disappear. 

The technical culture at Plum Brook established close collegial bonds as they 

worked together and spread good news about nuclear research. This was not 

unusual for a group working in government secrecy, closed off for the most part 

from the wider world. One could find these close bonds at places like Los Alamos 

too during World War II.9

 Within the reactor gates at Plum Brook a strong community formed, where men and women worked long hours, shared the difficulties of 

shift work, made safety a primary concern, and often spent their time outside work 

together as well. As a result, two communities developed, the wider public commu8

 Jo Ann Shroyer, Secret Mesa: Inside Los Alamos National Laboratory (New York: John Wiley & 

Sons, Inc., 1998), p. 14.

9

 Richard Rhodes, The Making of the Atomic Bomb (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1986), p. 567.

human sense of terror.”3 This fear has been heightened by a legacy of misinformation 

the government has conveyed to the public about radioactive hazards and a policy 

of secrecy. Michael D’Antonio argued that the human toll of over four decades of 

nuclear pollution and deceit has yet to be measured or truly understood.4

NASA was well aware of the concerns about operating a reactor at Plum Brook, 

only three miles away from Sandusky, Ohio. The AEC’s Reactor Safeguards Committee was responsible for reviewing all site selections for reactors prior to granting 

an operating license. At only its second meeting, held in 1957, it expressed doubt 

that Plum Brook was a safe location for a reactor because of the proximity of a sizable population. Nevertheless, it reluctantly endorsed the site despite its concerns.5

The fact that NACA (NASA’s predecessor) selected the site in 1955 and the AEC 

voiced its safety concerns two years later revealed one of the inherent problems 

about radioactivity—there was no clear, objective measurement or set of guidelines 

that established what was safe and what was unsafe in this new world of nuclear 

construction. 

This inability of scientists, regulators, and public health officials to come to an 

agreement about the risks of low-level radiation further contributed to the public’s 

growing uncertainty and fear. J. Samuel Walker argued that because the scientific 

evidence of a “permissible dose” remained inconclusive, the resulting debate “generated confusion, uncertainty, and fear among members of the public who had no 

reliable way to evaluate the competing positions.”6

 Even at Plum Brook scientists 

debated the meaning of radiation safety. Despite the assurances of the health physicists at Plum Brook that the reactor posed no threat to the community, a radiologist from the University of Pennsylvania disagreed. Ernest J. Sternglass argued that 

mortality rates rose with increased proximity to the Plum Brook reactor. His claims 

made front-page headlines in the local Sandusky Register.

7

 Although other scientists 

rejected his arguments, within this context it is understandable that a resident living 

outside the fences might be deathly afraid of washing the hair of a scientist from 

Plum Brook. 

3

 Kai T. Erikson, “Radiation’s Lingering Dread,” Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists 47 (March 1991): 

34–39.

4

 Michael D’Antonio, Atomic Harvest: Hanford and the Lethal Toll of America’s Nuclear Arsenal 

(New York: Crown Publishers, 1993), p. 3.

5

 George T. Mazuzan and J. Samuel Walker, Controlling the Atom: The Beginnings of Nuclear 

Regulation, 1946–1962 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985), p. 221.

6

 J. Samuel Walker, Permissible Dose: A History of Radiation Protection in the Twentieth Century 

(Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), p. 2.

7

 Tim Sowecke, “Radiation-Death Claim Repeated,” Sandusky Register (26 July 1973): 1.
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of atomic power, which included such fantasies as trips to the moon, a small glass 

of uranium propelling ships across the Atlantic, buildings with gold-plated roofs, 

and meals that were precooked. Further speculating on Soddy’s utopia, Kaempffert 

envisioned atomic power creating “thousands of small towns with plenty of garden 

space, low rents, breathing space . . . health, and a finer outlook on life.”12

 Throughout the early part of the twentieth century some believed radiation to 

be an elixir. Many scientists who carried a radium substance in their pockets found 

that it burned their skin. Physicians then began using it to treat skin cancers and 

tumors. Soddy speculated in the British Medical Journal in 1903 that breathing 

radioactive gas would be an effective treatment against tuberculosis.13 Newspapers 

reported wild claims that radiation was giving sight to the blind and preventing the 

onset of old age. The image of the radioactive rays being linked to an invisible life 

force that could significantly raise standards of living became prevalent in society.14

But there was a dual nature to these rays. Tales soon began to be told about radiation 

being transformed from healing rays to rays of death as weapons of mass destruction.15

The scientists often were themselves responsible for this imagery. For example, 

when Soddy first exclaimed, “This is transmutation,” Rutherford immediately 

warned him not to use that word to describe their experimental findings because of 

the association with alchemy. Alchemy was a secret, pseudoscientific practice that 

existed for 2,000 years and was most notably linked with the dream of turning lead 

into gold. It appeared as if the elemental change associated with the twentieth-century discovery of radioactivity might represent the emergence of modern alchemy. 

Rutherford later welcomed the association with this mystical practice by publishing 

a book in 1937 called The Newer Alchemy.16 But the symbol of alchemy and transmutation had a darker side as well. The process of change was a violent one, both 

spiritually and physically, as the transmuted object was passed through a destructive 

fire to bring it into its new state. Nuclear fear was born. 

In 1904 Rutherford casually joked with a newspaper reporter about the potential 

for a scientist to destroy the world. The reporter wrote, “Professor Rutherford has 

12 Waldemar Kaempffert, Science Today and Tomorrow (New York: Viking, 1945).

13 Frederick Soddy, British Medical Journal 2 (25 July 1903): 197–199, as cited in Weart, Nuclear 

Fear, p. 37.

14 George T. Mazuzan and J. Samuel Walker, Controlling the Atom: The Beginnings of Nuclear 

Regulation, 1946–1962 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985), p. 2.

15 Weart, Nuclear Fear, p. 43.

16 Ernest Rutherford, The Newer Alchemy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1937).

nity outside and the technical community inside the reactor. No matter how much 

outreach and information was disseminated about the nuclear reactor, few outsiders 

could appreciate the culture that thrived behind the fences. This chapter describes 

the relationship between these two communities and the common bond that united 

them—living with radiation. 

Radioactive Monsters and Utopias

 Radiation entered the public consciousness as soon as x-rays were discovered 

and Ernst Rutherford and Frederick Soddy began to apply scientific understanding 

to the phenomenon. Typically the work of theoretical physicists does not capture 

widespread attention. But when the public learned about the discovery of radiation, 

the promise of harnessing the power bound in the atomic nucleus spawned dreams 

of brave new worlds where radiation would cure diseases and create wondrous 

utopian atomic-powered cities. Many tempered this optimism by recognizing the 

darker side of the power whereby evil scientists might overtake the world, creating 

radioactive monsters or weapons that ravaged cities. While science fiction was often 

the vehicle for debating these contrasting positions, they were based on enough 

real science to make these once absurd notions appear plausible. Even though no 

scientist had artificially split an atom before 1938, already these fears and hopes had 

swept through popular culture.10

 Shortly after the discovery of radiation and the transmutation of atoms many 

people believed that it would usher in a new golden age. Frederick Soddy, Ernst 

Rutherford’s colleague, himself did much to fuel this idea. In 1908 he published a 

popular book called The Interpretation of Radium in which he expressed the utopian 

possibilities for the future. He wrote, “A race which could transmute matter would 

have little need to earn its bread by the sweat of its brow. . . . Such a race could 

transform a desert continent, thaw the frozen poles, and make the whole world one 

shining Garden of Eden.”11

 Journalists quickly picked up on these ideas and wrote countless stories about 

the remarkable prospects. With more and more people interested in these subjects, 

popular science writers emerged to transmit the latest scientific advances to an eager 

public. Waldemar Kaempffert became the leading science journalist in the nation 

as the scientific editor of the New York Times. He often wrote about the marvels 

10 Spencer R. Weart, Nuclear Fear: A History (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1988). Weart 

calls the period from 1902 to 1938 the “years of fantasy” concerning nuclear radiation.

11 Frederick Soddy, The Interpretation of Radium, 3rd ed. (London: Murray, 1912), p. 251. 
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ing as the result of atomic bomb tests. Other films depicted similar mutations like 

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (arctic radioactive monsters), Godzilla (prehistoric 

radioactive monsters), and The Deadly Mantis (flying radioactive monsters). When 

filmmakers ran out of real creatures to corrupt with radiation, they invented new 

ones, as in X the Unknown (radioactive sludge seeking isotopes) or The Thing (a 

radioactive vegetable-like creature). Another popular cinematic genre depicted what 

the world might be like after a nuclear holocaust. Many showed the earth plunged 

into savagery because of radioactive wastes, as in Captive Women, World Without 

End, and The Time Machine. The most popular of these were the six Planet of the 

Apes films, with the memorable image of the Statue of Liberty left decaying in its 

postnuclear waste.22

Statements from President John F. Kennedy in 1961 reminding everyone that 

“Every inhabitant of this planet must contemplate the day when this planet may no 

longer be habitable” served to heighten these fears and the desire for personal fallout 

shelters.23 In July Kennedy gave a speech stating that families should do all that 

they could to protect themselves against the possibility of a nuclear attack. He also 

warned them to take precautions for the subsequent lingering effects of radiation. 

Soon thereafter, news magazines began running advertisements depicting frontierlike heroes living in their own bomb shelters. Life magazine suggested drinking hot 

tea to help combat radiation sickness. Coca-Cola depicted a girl in a bomb shelter, 

laughing and holding a bottle of refreshing soda in her hand.24

NASA was also busy making specific plans should there be a nuclear strike. One 

of these plans consisted of a scenario in which a nuclear attack on the United States 

would make working conditions in Cleveland impossible for its Lewis Research 

Center employees. The plan was to designate Plum Brook as an “emergency command center” in case of an enemy attack near the Cleveland area.25 It called for the 

Plum Brook munitions bunkers from its ordnance days to be turned into homes 

for high-ranking Lewis officials and their families. Ironically, if this had happened, 

Plum Brook would have become an oasis to protect those inside the bunkers against 

the radiation poisoning that would potentially kill millions in the wake of a nuclear 

22 Alan M. Winkler, Life Under a Cloud: American Anxiety About the Atom (New York: Oxford 

University Press, 1993), pp. 96–99. Spencer R. Weart, Nuclear Fear: A History of Images (Cambridge: 

Harvard University Press, 1988), pp. 191–195.

23 Weart, Nuclear Fear, p. 215. See also Weart’s discussion on film, radioactive monsters, and 

nuclear holocaust, pp. 191–194, 220. 

24 Time 78 (20 October 1961): 25; Life 51 (15 September 1961): 95–108.

25 Alan D. Johnson (Director Plum Brook Station) Memorandum for the Record, 8 November 

1961, Plum Brook Archives, unprocessed material.

playfully suggested . . . the disquieting idea that, could a proper detonator be discovered, an explosive wave of atomic disintegration might be started through all matter 

which would transmute the whole mass of the globe into helium or similar gasses.”17

This idea of the mad and dangerous scientist hearkened back to the sixteenth-century literary figure Dr. Faust and the selling of his soul to acquire awesome demonic 

powers. Misguided science was a central theme of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein; readers tend to forget that the title of the book was the name of the scientist, not the 

monster. This is a telling indication of the sometimes blurred distinction between 

the symbolic image of scientists and monsters. The image is a familiar one to children as well. For example, in the Batman comic book, Professor Radium was a brilliant nuclear physicist who mistakenly transformed himself into an evil monster and 

used radiation as a weapon against humanity.18

Soon there was real evidence to prove that radiation was extremely harmful to 

the human body. Though physicians realized that radium was a treatment against 

cancer, excessive exposure proved deadly. In the 1920s radium was used on watch 

dials because the luminous paint would glow in the dark. The radium was painted 

on watches by “radium girls” who over time became very sick from their radiation exposure.19 These sicknesses included anemia, weakening of bones such that 

arms or legs might snap under normal pressure, and a host of different cancers. In 

1932 there was one well-publicized case of a wealthy man named Eben M. Byers 

who died of radium poisoning from drinking tremendous amounts of a radioactive 

elixir called Radithor.20 As more and more chemists, physicians, and physicists who 

worked with radium on a daily basis fell ill, they made a connection between the 

substance and the onset of cancer.21 The beginnings of radiation toxicology began 

in the 1930s. 

By the 1950s and early 1960s Hollywood added its own perspective on medical 

concerns about radiation exposure and further shaped the public’s consciousness 

with images of nuclear power and radioactivity. Some films perpetuated the theme 

of radioactive monsters with movies like Them!, which showed giant ants mutat17 W. C. D. Whetham, “Matter and Electricity,” Quarterly Review 397 (January 1904): 126.

18 George Perry and Alan Aldridge, The Penguin Book of Comics (Harmondsworth, England: 

Penguin, 1967), p. 61.

19 Claudia Clark, Radium Girls: Women and Industrial Health Reform, 1910–1935 (Chapel Hill and 

London: The University of North Carolina Press, 1997), p. 1. 

20 Lawrence Badash, Radioactivity in America: Growth and Decay of a Science (Baltimore: Johns 

Hopkins University Press, 1979), pp. 10–12.

21 J. Newell Stannard, Radioactivity and Health, A History (Virginia: Battelle Memorial Institute, 

1988), p. 25.
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reactor in their backyard. They were concerned about these new terms like radiation, contamination, and doses that had entered their lexicon, and they debated their 

meanings and the potential effects on the local population. Soon after the groundbreaking ceremonies in the mid-1950s, a group of Sandusky residents visited the 

Lewis Laboratory to ask some very pertinent questions about their safety. 

The first question came from a resident who wondered what would be done if a 

problem occurred and especially, “How do you stop the production of radioactivity?”31 The Plum Brook reactor engineers responded with the assurance that control 

was always maintained and that all that had to be done to shut off the reactor was 

to “release the control rods so that they fall by gravity into the reactor core.” The 

engineer stated that the time required to do this was less than one second. The Sandusky public was well-informed about the radiation debate, and a second question 

came from someone who was still skeptical. He said that he had read an AEC report 

of an incident where dropping a control rod did not actually shut down the reactor 

as planned. The engineer dismissed this question by stating that this was a different 

type of reactor and that reactors similar to Plum Brook’s had never had a problem 

with the control rod drop. 

Concerns about contamination were another important area that the residents 

wanted to address. The next question was about the issue of contaminated water 

and where it went when it was no longer of use. The engineer stated that the radioactive water was stored in underground tanks where it was allowed to naturally 

decay. To assist this process, dematerializers were used to remove radioactivity from 

the water. By combining these two processes, after a period of six months the level 

of radiation was reduced to a level in which it was safe to dump the waters into 

the Plum Brook River. Other concerns about radioactive water were raised. One 

person asked if there was a problem with surface water becoming contaminated and 

draining into Lake Erie. The engineer said that this was nearly impossible, but just 

in case the engineers had constructed a dike around the reactor to control runoff 

surface water. 

The final questions dealt with the problems of personal contact with radioactivity. One person asked what the symptoms of radiation exposure were and if there 

was a cure for it. The engineer could not answer this directly. He said, “This is an 

involved question that is receiving constant attention by world-renowned specialists 

in medical radiology and biology. The literature pertaining to this subject is very 

extensive and cannot be summarized adequately in a brief statement.” All that he 

could say with any confidence was that “excessive” radiation was harmful and there 

31 Community Safety Transcript, unprocessed Plum Brook records, Glenn Research Center 

Archives.

disaster. The plan also recommended what to do if an unexpected attack occurred 

that prevented people from getting to a fallout shelter. NASA told employees to 

“seek immediate shelter under a desk” and cover exposed body parts for protection 

against radiation.26 But this worst-case scenario was not what was foremost in the 

minds of most residents living near the reactor on a daily basis. Ever since construction on the reactor had begun they were concerned not so much with a catastrophic 

nuclear disaster, but the potential of slow, invisible, low-level radiation. As J. Samuel 

Walker argued, throughout the century there was a transformation of public attitudes and scientific beliefs since radiation was first discovered. This transformation 

“reflected the gradual recognition and then growing fear of the hazards of radiation 

and the protracted scientific debate over the risks of low-level exposure.”27

The Hazards Report

There are three key nuclear terms that are often used to describe the hazards 

associated with reactors.28 Radiation in this connotation includes the alpha particles, 

beta particles, gamma rays, x-rays, neutrons, and high-speed electrons and protons 

that produce ions. The atom emits radiation because of an instability caused by an 

excess of energy or mass in its nucleus. Contamination is the unwanted radioactive 

material that can be deposited on surfaces, mixed into materials, or ingested by biological organisms.29 A dose is the amount of radiation energy absorbed by a unit of 

mass. Doses are measured in rads, and for a person a radiation dose is measured in 

a unit called a rem.30 Although it was true that the city of Sandusky, the Chamber 

of Commerce, and the local congressional representative actively campaigned for 

the reactor to be built at Plum Brook, citizens still had reservations about a nuclear 

26 Charles A. Herrmann (Lewis Emergency Coordinator), “ . . . What to Do in the Event of a Civil 

Defense Emergency,” 25 July 1961, Box 1, Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives.

27 Walker, Permissible Dose, pp. 2, 19.

28 John L. Minns and Michael T. Masnik, “Staff Responses to Frequently Asked Questions 

Concerning Decommissioning of Nuclear Power Reactors,” Nuclear Regulatory Commission, June 

2000, Box 8, Folder 6, Plum Brook Archives.

29 Harry C. Harrison (Plum Brook health physicist), “Radiation and Contamination,” Box 1, 

Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives.

30 A rad is a unit of measure for an absorbed dose of radiation where 1 rad equals 100 ergs 

(centimeter-gram-second unit) absorbed per gram of material. One rad is also about equal to one rem. 

A rem is a unit of measure for the dose of ionizing radiation that has a biological effect similar to that 

of one roentgen of x-rays. Michele Stenehjem Gerber, On the Home Front: The Cold War Legacy of the 

Hanford Nuclear Site, 2nd ed. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2002), pp. 349, 351.
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east were still primarily farming communities, to the north was the suburban and 

manufacturing center of Sandusky. According to 1954 estimates, within a 6-mile 

radius of the reactor there were 28 companies that employed more than 50 people 

each for a total of 9,376 employees. The largest were the General Motors ball and 

roller bearings division (2,671 employees 3.4 miles away) and Ford Motor Company’s auto parts division (2,000 employees 3.5 miles away). Another 731 people were 

employed in smaller companies in the area.34 This was a thriving community, and it 

was estimated that the growth would continue because of the recent completion of 

the St. Lawrence Seaway, increased Great Lakes shipping, and the resulting spike in 

commerce and manufacturing activities in the port cities. 

There were six primary types of hazards that could potentially endanger those 

in the vicinity of the reactor. One type included a variety of potential component 

34 A. B. Davis, B. Lubarsky, and T. M. Hallman, “Final Hazards Summary: NASA Plum Brook 

Facility,” (December 1959), 81–82, Box 252, Folder 8, Plum Brook Archives.

Cover of the “Final Hazards Summary” document and two internal pages. (NASA Plum Brook Archives, 

Box 267, Org 6200A, Folder 1)

was no cure for it. There was no objective measure that determined an excessive 

exposure. 

One of the reasons why the public’s concern could not easily be extinguished 

was that scientists and the government could not be certain of health risks even at 

the “tolerance dose” or a “maximum permissible dose.” In 1946 the government, 

through the Atomic Energy Act, gave the Atomic Energy Commission the responsibility to protect the public from radiation hazards. That same year the government also established the National Committee on Radiation Protection (NCRP) 

to develop a policy of radiation safety. It quickly reduced the permissible dose level 

by 50% of what it had been previously and defined it as a whole-body limit of 0.3 

roentgen over a 6-day work week. The NCRP published this finding in 1954, two 

years before construction on the Plum Brook reactor began. While it stated that 

permissible doses were those that should not cause harm to a body over the course 

of a lifetime, it also claimed that there was a possibility of harmful results occurring 

from low-level exposure below the permissible level. In 1958 the AEC restricted 

its exposure guidelines to one-third the previously allowed level.32 Ten years later 

the NCRP proposed another change to its regulatory policy, stating that radiation 

release should be “as low as practicable.” The AEC was not convinced that this was 

adequate and raised questions over all existing regulations. The controversies were 

not only within the government. Scientists were at odds over the risks of and the 

health threat represented by nuclear fallout.33

To address potential dangers associated with a nuclear reactor, before construction was completed, engineers at Plum Brook had to complete a detailed hazards 

report. The purpose of this report was to provide information to the AEC concerning the design of the reactor facility, the characteristics of the site, hazards of operation at Plum Brook, and general operating and emergency procedures. Without this 

document the AEC would not license the reactor. Plum Brook submitted the initial 

report to the AEC in 1956 just as construction was under way. Over the course of 

the next few years the document was amended and expanded, and the “Final Hazards Summary” appeared in 1959, two years before the reactor went critical.

The main disadvantage of the Plum Brook location was the proximity and density of the surrounding population. The nearest residents lived just 3,200 feet from 

the reactor itself, and there were an estimated 300 people residing within one mile. 

The total population within a 6-mile radius was 38,450. Furthermore, the area was 

home to a growing number of businesses. Though the areas to the west, south, and 

32 Len Ackland, Making a Real Killing: Rocky Flats and the Nuclear West (Alburquerque: University 

of New Mexico Press, 1999), p. 132.

33 Walker, Permissible Dose, pp. 11, 32.
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report predicted that a more likely scenario was sabotage by a “demented or subversive employee.” Still it would be difficult even for an employee to cause significant 

damage. The only way for the reactor to be destroyed was to remove the control 

rods from the core and keep them withdrawn. The only person capable of performing such a task would be a reactor operator with great knowledge of the wiring of 

the reactor who was also able to break into several locked cabinets without being 

detected. 

A fifth hazard was negligence. This was a significant concern because, throughout 

the history of atomic energy, careless mistakes had been one of the largest causes of 

minor nonthreatening accidents. However, the potential for a serious accident due 

to negligence was always present. The only way to prevent negligence was to actively 

promote safety consciousness. It was especially important to continue to emphasize 

safety even when no accidents had occurred because that was when employees could 

become lax in their safety awareness. 

A final hazard was known as a “maximum credible accident.” This most serious problem would occur if the control system were unable to stop a large-step 

increase in reactor power, thereby melting the reactor fuel cladding, resulting in a 

large release of radioactive gasses. The result would be an unstoppable rise in reactor 

power and temperature until the reactor core was destroyed. Runaway destruction 

of the Plum Brook reactor would likely entail melting of the fuel plates, rupture 

of the pressure tank, and scattering of the radioactive material. The Plum Brook 

engineers stated, “It is an event which could create a considerable hazard both for 

the operating personnel and the general populace.”37 “Considerable hazard” was 

defined in the following way. For such an accident, anyone located just outside the 

containment tank would not survive. Other people working in the area would have 

to evacuate immediately or also face radiation exposure. The dose rate at the Plum 

Brook fences would also be high, and the entire area would have to be quarantined 

for about 100 days before it became safe again. 

Though the hazards associated with the Plum Brook reactor appeared serious, 

they represented a minor threat compared with those of a power reactor. One Plum 

Brook engineer said, “Plum Brook wasn’t very powerful. In those days it seemed it 

was, but it was a little candle flicker compared to today’s reactors.”38 But the reactor 

team had to consider every conceivable danger, even those that at the time were, 

according to Hap Johnson, “vanishingly small,” like a direct hit from an airplane.39

37 Davis et al., “Final Hazards Summary: NASA Plum Brook Facility,” 147.

38 Interview with John Acomb by Mark D. Bowles, 8 July 2002.

39 Interview with Alan “Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002.

malfunctions, including pump or pipe failures, startup accidents, or broken fuel 

element plates. Emergency procedures were defined by the hazards report, which 

explained how to recover from these problems. For example, standby pumps were 

available to restore coolant flows to normal conditions should others fail. 

Experiments presented a second potential hazard. In general, however, the standard operating procedure was to not even consider putting an experiment into the 

reactor until all of the engineers had a deep understanding of the reactor facility. 

Until this occurred only the smallest and safest experiments would be conducted. 

Even when more dangerous experiments were considered, some could still be 

rejected if they had the potential to cause an accident that resulted in levels of radiation that the reactor control systems would be unable to safely contain. However, 

despite these safeguards, dangers remained. As the hazards report indicated, “If the 

experiments are to yield data of value to the nuclear propulsion program, they must 

be operated at high temperature and stress levels.”35 To help ensure that these risks 

were minimized, radiation detectors were placed throughout the experiments that 

could report to the safety system when to “scram” or shut down the reactor. 

“Acts of God” were a third hazard. The Sandusky region averaged 32 days of 

thunderstorms per year, mostly in the summer months. Lightning had the potential to disrupt electrical power to the reactor. If this happened, the reactor would 

immediately shut itself down, and a diesel generator would supply the power to 

pump 1,000 gallons of water per minute through the primary shutdown cooling 

water system to disperse the reactor afterheat. The reactor was built to withstand the 

damage that could be caused by a tornado; however, the violent winds could potentially destroy outlying buildings. But this would not cause any radiation release. 

Floods and earthquakes were not considered problematic. The Plum Brook site was 

65 feet above Lake Erie, and it gently sloped down toward the lake. And no earthquake with an epicenter in Sandusky had ever been recorded, so no seismographoperated shut-down circuit was installed in the facility. 

A fourth hazard was sabotage. A bomb dropped directly on the facility could 

pierce the containment vessel and explode in one of the quadrants. The result would 

be a core meltdown in about 10 seconds, releasing a “considerable amount of fission products.”36 Sabotage was another threat, though it was thought to be very difficult for an intruder to sneak into the facility. Any saboteur would have to break 

through the fence surrounding the entire Plum Brook facility, and guards watched 

it at all times. Additional security was in place at the reactor itself. The hazards 

35 Davis et al., “Final Hazards Summary: NASA Plum Brook Facility,” 130.

36 Davis et al., “Final Hazards Summary: NASA Plum Brook Facility,” 144.
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tioned whether the radiation would make them sterile. One woman wrote officials 

to ask if there was a chance that the radiation would make her pregnant. A man 

accused the Brookhaven scientists of tampering with weather patterns. Many of the 

neighbors complained that gases emanating from the laboratory were making them 

sick. Ironically, all of these concerns were expressed in 1947, before Brookhaven 

even possessed any radioactive materials on site.43

Brookhaven was not an isolated example. Many similar stories reappeared two 

decades later at Plum Brook. The reactor had gone critical just one month before 

John Kennedy’s speech about protecting one’s family from radiation. Not only did 

the Sandusky community have to worry about international Cold War politics; they 

were also concerned about the reactor in their backyard. One of the main types of 

stories came from people who believed that scientists at the Plum Brook reactor 

were changing the weather. Since many of the local residents were farmers, this was 

a serious concern. A few believed that when the reactor went critical their chickens 

might suddenly start laying square eggs.44 Some farmers complained that a drought 

or a hard rainstorm was the result of the scientists tinkering with radiation in the 

43 Weart, Nuclear Fear, p. 178.

44 Interview with Alan “Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002.

The fence surrounding Plum Brook. (NASA C-2003-850)

Nevertheless, the engineers had to prove that the reactor could keep running safely 

despite these threats. Plum Brook’s head reactor officials, like Johnson, discussed 

preparations for all of these contingency scenarios in public hearings. AEC scientists 

reviewed the documentation, listened to the testimony, and determined whether a 

facility deserved their seal of approval. Ultimately, the hazards report was a successful document. Its chief editor, A. Bert Davis, sent it to the AEC, and eventually 

Plum Brook acquired its license.40

The Mock-Up Reactor also had its own hazards report, but since it operated 

under less power (100 kilowatts), the potential risk was much less than that of the 

main reactor (60 megawatts). According to the AEC, any accident would necessitate 

the evacuation of part of the main reactor building. Martin B. Biles, chief of the test 

and power safety branch of the AEC division of licensing and regulation stated, “It 

is our opinion that there is no significant hazard off-site.”41

Despite the official license and the assurances of the AEC, some local residents 

would never be convinced that the Plum Brook reactor was safe. Though this lowlevel radiation was of greatest concern to the population surrounding Plum Brook, 

it also became a national issue. J. Samuel Walker wrote that by 1963 (the year that 

Plum Brook was first at full power) nationwide radiation fears had reached their 

highest levels. He said, “As low-level radiation moved from the rarified realms of 

scientific and medical discourse to a featured subject in newspaper reports, magazine stories, and political campaigns, it became for the first time a matter of sustained public concern.”42 At Plum Brook rational fears were always present, but for 

a minority the mysteries of radiation and the secrecy behind the fence became a 

source of imaginative tales throughout the reactor’s life.

Controlling Mother Nature and Other Apocryphal Stories

If popular culture and Cold War politics generated at the very least a low level of 

nuclear anxiety for all Americans, for those who lived close to nuclear facilities these 

fears were magnified. For example, at the Brookhaven National Laboratory, which 

housed research and test reactors, the local community expressed many concerns. 

Even though the press praised the laboratory for its safety consciousness, citizens 

expressed numerous worries. Some airline pilots who flew near the reactors ques40 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.

41 Martin B. Biles, “Hazards Analysis of the Mock-Up Reactor,” Atomic Energy Commission, 14 

June 1961, Box 251, Folder 37, Plum Brook Archives.

42 Walker, Permissible Dose, p. 19.
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under their desks and tuck into little balls in order to have the least amount of skin 

exposed to radiation. One local resident recalled that when she was a high school 

student, “Plum Brook seemed very mysterious.”52

 The Plum Brook employees sometimes used general concern about radiation for a little good-natured fun. Jack Ross recalled two men who came to Plum 

Brook looking for jobs as laundry operators and decontamination technicians. Ross 

hired them and on their first day gave them a walking tour of the facility. Both had 

expressed some fear of working with radiation, but most everyone explained how 

safe Plum Brook was. During the walk-through, they met an older man who was in 

the early stages of Parkinson’s disease and whose body sometimes shook. The two 

new men became a little concerned when they saw him and asked what was wrong. 

As a practical joke, one of the Plum Brook employees said, “Oh, there’s nothing 

wrong with him. He’s only 29, but he’s been working here a long time.” At lunch 

time the men left to go eat and never came back. Jack Ross said that he worked for a 

month trying to track them down to give them their paychecks for their four hours 

of work. 

Everyone at Plum Brook learned a lesson from that story. Ross said, “It pointed 

out to us that . . . you don’t know what kind of fears people have. You shouldn’t add 

to those fears, you should address them.” This was a conclusion that Plum Brook 

administrators came to soon after this unfortunate incident. Ross said, “It seemed 

a little humorous at the time, but it was sad because those two young fellows could 

have had a lot of training. They could have had a whole new career door open to 

them but for a comment that another employee made.”53 It was a testament to Plum 

Brook’s commitment to the community that this mistake never happened again. In 

fact, Plum Brook instituted a concerned effort to inform the community about its 

work and dispel any misconceptions about working and living with radiation. In 

an attempt to achieve this, Plum Brook became a unique showplace and hands-on 

working museum for thousands of visitors. 

A Showplace for the Space Program

Public relations were very important, and most reactor operators considered it 

a “vital part of our job.”54 Plum Brook formed a speaker’s bureau to organize talks 

about the reactor at local schools and to civic organizations. Those who volunteered 

52 “Anne Hinton: Community Workgroup Member Profile,” Decommissioning News (July 2005): 3.

53 Interview with Jack Ross by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

54 Barkley, “Newsgram #1,” 24 May 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

reactor.45 Charlie Nichols was a farmer whose crops were located to the east of the 

reactor. He was convinced that when rainstorms came, the rain clouds split over the 

reactor. One cloud traveled north, the other traveled south, and then both missed 

his fields altogether, leaving his crops dry.46 He had actually retained a lawyer and 

began legal proceedings against NASA. Myrna Steele assisted with the defense in 

preparation for the legal hearing, but since NASA was not spewing radiation into 

the air, and it could not control Mother Nature, the case was thrown out.47

When Plum Brook employees visited other reactor sites they often heard similar 

stories. H. Brock Barkley recalled one trip to the Materials Test Reactor at Idaho 

Falls. He visited a flower nursery about 50 miles from the reactor, and the proprietor 

told him, “The temperature sure has been lots hotter here since those reactors have 

been operating.”48 Earl Boitel would often go out into the community and give talks 

about the reactor and dispel some of these notions. He said that the community 

“would hear the loud noises and the bangs and they would see the plume of steam 

coming from the various facilities and I would try to assure them that none of these 

things would be detrimental to their health and safety.”49

Some of the fears stemmed not just from the radiation, but from the assumption 

that the Plum Brook facility might become a military target. Rosalie Oldrieve, an 

English teacher and wife of Robert Oldrieve, the hot laboratory manager, recalled 

that “The news media scared the kids.”50 They were worried about reports claiming that Fidel Castro might launch missiles at all nuclear facilities, including Plum 

Brook. Oldrieve said, “The kids suddenly were afraid, and they’d never even thought 

about it before.” They approached the teachers to ask them more about the threat. 

Oldrieve had a unique perspective, since her husband worked at the facility, and she 

reassured them all that the installation was safe, even if attacked. 

The nuclear drills run by the schools also served to frighten the students while 

preparing them for the worst. Janet Bohne recalled the “duck and cover” drills that 

she was required to participate in as a student.51 Unlike some other schools where 

this was due to the potential of nuclear attack, in Sandusky these were “nuclear reactor drills.” In case of a maximum credible nuclear accident, the students would get 

45 Interview with Jack Ross by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

46 Interview with Don Young by Mark D. Bowles, 27 September 2002.

47 Interview with Myrna Steele by Mark D. Bowles, 7 February 2002.

48 Interview with H. Brock Barkley by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

49 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

50 Interview with Rosalie Oldrieve by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

51 Interview with Jan Bohne by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.
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most exciting parts of the tour. The Cherenkov effect was caused by high-energy 

beta particles moving at velocities faster than the speed of light in water. Pavel Alekseyevich Cherenkov first observed this phenomenon in 1934. Cherenkov’s discovery 

helped with the detection of elementary particles and was significant for subsequent 

experimental work in nuclear physics and the study of cosmic rays. In 1958 he was 

awarded a Nobel Prize in physics. The experiments themselves were described in 

very general terms to the Plum Brook visitors to ensure that no classified secrets 

were given away. Finally, the tours would go through the offices and end at the reactor control room. Boitel recalled, “most people were just amazed at the myriad of 

instruments that were used in the reactor. This was the first time they had ever seen 

anything as complicated and with as much instruments.”60

 General open houses were also held for the public. Tours were of tremendous 

interest to the community, and during one in October 1963 over 1,600 people vis60 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002

A reactor tour by local high school students. Here they are examining a model of a nuclear rocket. (NASA 

P62-1740)

for this duty were able to get all of the films and models that NASA produced and 

used them as demonstration pieces. Not only did they talk about Plum Brook; they 

also showed the latest Saturn rocket models and launch movies.55 But as Robert 

DeFayette, who was on the speaker’s bureau, said, despite all of the positive feedback 

and enthusiasm, “That’s not to say there was no controversy.”56 There were skeptics in the community, and no matter how much public information was released, 

they remained convinced that the engineers working behind the Plum Brook fences 

were conducting dangerous and mysterious experiments. One NASA policy that 

may have contributed to this early skepticism was its strict visitor policy prior to 

the time when the reactor went critical in 1961. While Patrick Donoughe, chief of 

the reactor, allowed limited tours, he stated that “the visitor must not be an area 

resident.” He defined area residents as anyone who lived within a four-hour drive 

of the reactor.57

After the reactor went critical, NASA relaxed this policy and did all it could to 

defuse concern, skepticism, and fear. Frequent public tours were given to demonstrate how safe the reactor was for the surrounding community and to let people 

know that public funds were being properly utilized. For most visitors the favorite 

part of the tour was getting to actually use the master-slave manipulator arms. Earl 

Boitel of the experimental equipment section volunteered to be one of the tour 

guides. He said, “People looked at this as space-age technology and perhaps maybe 

science fiction.”58 Letting visitors actually operate some of the equipment with the 

manipulator arms helped to make the facility much more real and comprehensible. 

After the hot laboratory the guests were then taken to the reactor building, where 

they entered the containment vessel through the airlock doors. The tour guides 

would point out the reactor tank, shrapnel shields, and the water in the canals and 

quadrants.

Another tour highlight was opening the reactor hatch so that people could walk 

out onto the lily pad and look down into the reactor core itself. What they saw there 

often amazed them—a light-blue glow emanating from the spent fuel.59 During 

criticality the reactor core emitted a blue glow, known as Cherenkov radiation. The 

visitors always asked for an explanation of the blue light, and this was one of the 

55 Newsgram #11, 9 September 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

56 Interview with Robert DeFayette by Mark D. Bowles, 29 January 2002.

57 Patrick L. Donoughe, “Visitors to Plum Brook Reactor Facility,” 21 August 1961, Box 1, Folder 

10, Plum Brook Archives.

58 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

59 Interview with Jack Crooks by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.
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administrators like T. Keith Glennan, James Webb, and Tom Paine. Other officials 

included Raymond Bisplinghoff (director of NASA’s Office of Advanced Research 

and Technology), Harold Finger (manager of SNPO), Glenn Seaborg (chairman of 

the Atomic Energy Commission), the editors of Nucleonics magazine, officials from 

the Japanese Atomic Energy Commission, and professors from local universities 

considering use of the reactor for their own experiments. Abe Silverstein, director of 

Lewis Research Center, made frequent appearances, usually with guests. Politicians 

also visited, including congressmen and senators. Astronauts were often at Lewis 

Research Center working on the gimbal rig, and many of them—including Scott 

Carpenter, Gus Grissom, and John Glenn—took time to tour the reactor. In 1963 

an aircraft landing strip was built in the southern portion of Plum Brook so that 

visits by important guests could be handled more efficiently. 

Those who visited the open houses and went on these tours were very appreciative of the rare opportunity to see inside a working nuclear reactor and interact with 

the people and some of the machinery. After one tour by a Catholic school, Sister 

Mary Christopher wrote, “From the moment when the guards met us at the gate, all 

through the periods of explanation at the various stations, until the moment when 

we left, we were impressed by the willingness and competence of the personnel who 

helped to make our tour enjoyable and worthwhile.”66

Coping with Stress

 While the tours took reactor employees away from their jobs, they often served 

as a needed respite. With the constant attention to safety and the demanding experimental schedule, employees at the reactor continually faced stressful situations. Earl 

Boitel said, “There was no question that it was very stressful.”67 Plum Brook engineers, under pressure to return meaningful data from the reactor, at all times had 

to remain vigilant about safety—their own as well as that of the surrounding community. This was not a typical eight-hour-a-day job. The reactor operated 24 hours 

a day, 7 days a week, and as a result employees were required to work around the 

clock on shifts. Myrna Steele recalled that these late-nights were where she learned 

to drink what she called “back-shift coffee.”68 The shift teams operated together as a 

unit, and they became a tight-knit group, much like a family. Every seven days the 

66 Barkley, “Newsgram #3,” 7 June 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

67 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

68 Interview with Myrna Steele by Mark D. Bowles, 7 February 2002.

ited. In total the reactor had over 10,000 visitors during its lifetime. Because of the 

frequent influx of guests one engineer recalled that the Plum Brook reactor was “a 

showplace in the early days of the space program.”61 A great deal of time was spent 

not only on preparing presentations for visitors, but also making the reactor facility 

itself more attractive and aesthetically pleasing. One major effort was making the 

water in the quadrants and canals look cleaner. John Bonn achieved this by suggesting that what might be good for home swimming pools might also be good for the 

reactor. He installed swimming pool skimmers in the reactor recirculation system, 

and this became the best method available for cleaning the water.62

Every fall NASA opened its doors, and not just to the Plum Brook reactor, but to 

the entire station. All of the local schools in the area were invited to come, and for 

two weeks, every afternoon, a different group of high school students was given a 

tour.63 These tours were more orchestrated, and the reactor became a living museum. 

The presentation began with a taped introduction in the auditorium, and at each 

location someone gave a demonstration about a specific aspect of the reactor. When 

it was time to move on, a bell rang, and the students walked to the next area of interest. H. Brock Barkley, the reactor chief, believed that the time spent on these tours 

was well worth it. He wrote, “We realize that much time is involved in work and 

preparation for these tours. . . . However, I know of no more fertile or productive 

endeavor than showing young high school students some of the interesting facets of 

the engineering profession.” In conveying the importance of these tours to reactor 

employees he said, “If your work encouraged just a few to study harder, to become 

more curious about or interested in engineering, or to go into the engineering profession, the time was extremely worthwhile.”64

For families with small children that toured the reactor, special precautions were 

put in place. Memos were sent out to all employees giving tours with children to 

remind the parents to hold their hands in some of the more dangerous areas. For 

example, the canals posed a potential threat, and some radioactive areas were also off 

limits. Only one member of each family was given a radiation monitoring badge, so 

the families were encouraged to stay together not only for safety reasons, but also to 

ensure that everyone was exposed to the same level of radiation.65

Plum Brook gave special tours to distinguished visitors, including NASA 

61 Interview with Jack Crooks by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

62 Newsgram #14, 30 October 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

63 Interview with Don Rhodes by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

64 Newsgram #13, 9 October 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

65 Newsgram #13, 9 October 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.
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school by playing music, and when he heard that there were others at NASA who 

were also musically inclined, they decided to form a band. They called themselves 

the Mach IVs, and NASA hired them to play at various social functions throughout 

the year. Jim Greer was the bandleader, and he converted one of the reactor office 

laboratories into a practice space where they worked on their set lists.72 For more 

organized activities the PACER group was formed, an acronym for the Plum Brook 

Activities Committee for Entertainment and Recreation. It often hired the Mach 

IVs to play at Halloween and New Year’s dances. The PACER group also worked 

together to build the recreational grounds at Plum Brook, which included a baseball field and a small structure for entertaining. Softball games were organized after 

work in the summer, and the families would come out for a picnic. Abe Silverstein, 

director of Lewis Research Center, frequently attended these gatherings.73 Children 

often fished in the stream, and there was a playground for them.74 Plum Brook also 

hosted egg hunts for children on Easter Sunday.

 Educational games were also encouraged for workers to pass the time, particularly on the late-night shifts, when the reactor was operating normally. H. Brock 

Barkley called one game “Can you stump your buddy?”75 Employees played it by 

trying to come up with operational questions that would help co-workers prepare 

for any problems that might occur. For example, questions might include: What 

would you do if that light went out? What would you do if that alarm sounded? 

What would you do if that gauge suddenly read full scale? Barkley believed that this 

game helped everyone learn more about the reactor and enabled them to respond 

more quickly when emergencies arose. 

One other way to reduce stress was to play practical jokes. Unfortunately, the 

person who bore the brunt of many of these pranks was Myrna Steele, one of only 

five women who worked with the male-dominated reactor. She was an unusual 

employee at Plum Brook for several reasons. First, she was a trained physicist among 

a group that consisted mostly of engineers and technicians. She graduated with 

degrees in both physics and mathematics from the University of Kentucky. Her 

father, an engineer, disapproved of her academic pursuits because he believed that 

the only thing that a physicist could do was teach. To prove him wrong, Myrna 

stopped working on an advanced degree, moved to Sandusky, and began working 

at Plum Brook while the reactor was being constructed. Though she eventually 

72 Interview with Jim Greer by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

73 Newsgram #10, 15 August 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

74 Interview with Robert Defayette by Virginia Dawson, 21 September 2002.

75 Newsgram #12, 25 September 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

shifts rotated to a different time slot. The first shift was from midnight to eight in 

the morning, the second was from eight in the morning until four in the afternoon, 

and the final shift was from four in the afternoon until midnight. The midnight 

shift was especially difficult for employees who had families. Robert Didelot said, 

“It was kind of rough,” especially trying to keep the children quiet in the summertime in the afternoon when he was trying to sleep.69 Every week the units would 

take a different shift so that no one would be stuck with the most difficult hours for 

any extended period of time.70

 The Plum Brook employees found ways to cope with the stresses of the job by 

creating numerous social outlets. Boitel said, “I think that what many of us found 

is that we needed some way to relieve that stress.”71 He had worked his way through 

69 Interview with Robert Didelot by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

70 Interview with Robert Didelot by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

71 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

NASA Administrator James Webb and Lewis Director Abe Silverstein (center, with glasses) look into the 

reactor tank while visiting Plum Brook. (NASA C-1961-58735)
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and retrieve her shoes for her. But as the months went on she said that she blushed 

less often and began to turn some of the practical jokes back on her co-workers. To 

teach a lesson to some of the more notorious pranksters, she baked chocolate-chip 

brownies with Ex-Lax pills in them. 

Not only did Myrna overcome these jokes, she became a well-liked colleague 

at the reactor. For example, one of the rules at Plum Brook was that no one was 

allowed to drink alcohol at night if they were working in the reactor the next day. 

The evenings before holidays or when there was an extra day off during a shift provided opportunities for imbibing at the local lounge. Since Myrna’s house was the 

closest of anyone’s to the reactor, she always extended an open invitation to any of 

her friends who needed a place to sleep. She said, “I just left the doors open a lot 

of the time and some nights the guys that had just gotten off shift had stopped at 

two or three of the bars and I would come in and find them sleeping on the sofa or 

sleeping on the floor.”

Though Myrna stopped bearing the brunt of jokes because of her gender, the 

engineers chided her about being a physicist. And the men still did not like Myrna 

to actually pick up a wrench and work on the machines herself. The belief that her 

mechanical capabilities were somehow substandard was something that she never 

overcame at Plum Brook. However, when she left the reactor to work at Oak Ridge 

April 1972 Easter egg hunt at Plum Brook. (NASA C-2003-846)

became an important and respected colleague, she initially had to confront the same 

prejudice about her background that she had encountered from her father. She said 

that all of the Plum Brook engineers thought of physicists as “damned useless eggheads,” and Myrna worked hard to dispel this belief.76 But an even more difficult 

hurdle for her to overcome was the fact that she was a woman working in a maledominated culture.

 Myrna said that when she first began working at Plum Brook, the other engineers “picked on me. I blushed on command, which they thoroughly enjoyed.” The 

men played many pranks on her. For example, there was only one unisex changing 

room where workers could put on the protective gear to go into the reactor. Sometimes she would return to the changing room after working a 12-hour shift and find 

her shoes over 100 feet in the air, dangling from the polar crane. She said, “The 

guys would know whether I had on slacks or whether I had on a dress. If I had on 

slacks, it never happened.”77 Eventually one of the men would crawl up the crane 

76 Interview with Myrna Steele by Mark D. Bowles, 7 February 2002.

77 Interview with Myrna Steele by Mark D. Bowles, 7 February 2002.

The band formed by reactor employees. Earl Boitel is on drums and Jim Greer is on his left. Courtesy of 

Earl Boitel.
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ing a reactor with the least amount of risk to the surrounding community was the 

central factor in establishing it as a good neighbor. Earl Boitel, a member of the 

speaker’s bureau, said, “I used to tell people that safety was so prominent here that 

it was more difficult to keep the reactor operating than not.”79

Safety was not only important for the community, but it was also essential for 

the workers at Plum Brook who coexisted with the reactor every day. Plum Brook 

engineers drew upon the safety experience of others who operated test facilities 

for nuclear experiments. The Oak Ridge National Laboratory was one important 

model. In one internal document used at Plum Brook, Oak Ridge’s C. D. Cagle 

discussed the dangers and risk present at the early low-flux test reactors. He said that 

there were personnel overexposures due to open beam holes, materials that became 

more radioactive than engineers expected, and a general failure to safely shield workers and provide handling tools. He said that there were also building evacuations 

because of radioactive gases, contaminations from ruptured capsules, and spills of 

liquids and dusts that were radioactive. Cagle said that with the low-flux test reactors these dangers did not pose a significant health risk. But these problems served 

as a warning for those who built higher flux test reactors like Plum Brook. He said 

that “the advent of the high-flux reactors, which could magnify the degree of hazard 

by a factor of ten to a hundred or more, made it apparent that better guarantees of 

safety were needed.”80

It was the responsibility of the health physics officers to ensure the safety of the 

Plum Brook employees. While the engineers reviewed each experiment to determine if it would produce relevant data, health physicists conducted simultaneous 

reviews to ensure that the experiment was safe. “Health physics” was a vital part of 

the reactor’s operation. Manhattan Project scientists created this job classification 

during World War II as another term for “radiation protection.” 81 The job of the 

health physicist was to study basic knowledge about radiation’s effect on health and 

develop new monitoring devices and shielding techniques.82 Elevating health to the 

status of a science was an important factor in helping to ensure the safety of all 

those who worked and lived near a radioactive environment. Tom Junod, a radiation safety officer at Plum Brook, defined health physics as “the protection of the 

workers and the public from the damaging effects of ionizing radiation, which could 

79 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

80 C. D. Cagle, “Considerations Involved in the Safety Review of Experiments to be Operated in 

Nuclear Reactors,” undated, ORNL-TM-745, Box 252, Folder 6, Plum Brook Archives.

81 Ackland, Making a Real Killing, p. 102.

82 Michele Stenehjem Gerber, On the Home Front: The Cold War Legacy of the Hanford Nuclear Site, 

2nd ed. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2002), p. 29.

in 1966, she was pleased to find that there “they didn’t tell me that reactors weren’t 

built for women.” Oak Ridge employed many women physicists who had been 

there since the Manhattan Engineering District days. For the most part the spirit 

of camaraderie, friendship, and family pervaded the working conditions at Plum 

Brook. Stress and difficult and tense working conditions often serve as a binding 

mechanism between people. Everyone who worked there went through the same 

trials as everyone else, and as a result close bonds formed that lasted a lifetime. These 

friendships still continue today as former employees meet on a regular basis at a 

local restaurant less than a mile from the Plum Brook gates.

Reactor Safety and Risk

Public tours and presentations helped to lessen the community’s anxiety over 

living near a reactor, but the most important factor in reducing fears was the emphasis on safety by the reactor employees. Project Engineer Len Homyak recalled, “We 

were drilled on safety. We were taught safety. We practiced safety. It was the foremost thing in our minds when we were doing anything.”78 This attention to operat78 Interview with Len Homyak by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

About 250 former reactor retirees gather at Plum Brook for a reunion in September 2002. (NASA C2002-01879)
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was to authorize all work permits and review them to ensure that all safety procedures were followed.85 If an area became contaminated, a health physicist would 

place a special “Danger Tag” near the area and cordon it off.86

Safety and operability reviews consisted of a detailed check of each experiment 

and a survey of a variety of different factors that could jeopardize either the success 

of the test or the safety of the reactor employees. These reviews consisted of several 

items, like the following list compiled by C. D. Cagle: complete equipment layout; 

compatibility of materials and environments; strength of the structures and the 

piping components; reliability of the instruments; provisions for the containment 

of wastes; critical dimensions of the experiments and the beam holes; fabrication, 

85 Interview with Tom Junod by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

86 Newsgram #3, 7 June 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

Health physicists updated this chart from daily pocket ionization dosimeters and other monitoring 

instruments to ensure that no employee received more than the permissible radiation exposure dose. (NASA 

C-2001-01153) Tom Junod, the Health and Safety Officer, looks at radiation sensing monitoring equipment. The color of 

the lights indicated the presence or absence of radiation. (NASA 1961_55636)

be emitted from a reactor facility, from a hot lab, or from a radiochemistry lab.”83

Jack Ross was the health physics manager at the reactor. He worked for Teledyne 

Isotopes, the company that Plum Brook contracted with to perform all of its safety 

monitoring. After leaving the Marine Corps in 1954 he went to work at Westinghouse as a health physics technician and worked there for eight years. At that point 

Plum Brook contacted him and invited him to manage the health physics section 

in the reactor. He remained associated with Plum Brook for the next 29 years. His 

responsibilities included health physics as well as trace environmental analysis, bioassay decontamination, waste packaging, and electronics monitoring and surveillance.84 The final important responsibility for Ross and the other health physicists 

83 Interview with Tom Junod by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

84 Interview with Jack Ross by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.
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A health physics technician uses a handheld “cutie pie” radiation detector to check equipment for 

contamination. (NASA C-2003-840)

installation, operations, removal, and disposal procedures; the proper handling of 

radioactive tools; the security of supplies of electrical power, water, and gases; and 

all waste disposal.87

The health physics technicians and the lab analysts performed the routine radiation surveys both internally at Plum Brook and throughout the surrounding community. These surveys looked for unusually high concentrations of contamination 

(radioactive particles that combined with each other like dust or dirt). Airborne 

contamination measuring stations were located at Plum Brook, at the Sandusky 

post office, and at Lake Erie. They were left out for a week at a time and then 

collected and analyzed. 88 Water analyses were performed at various locations in 

Lake Erie, as well as in streams that were part of the local connecting tributaries. 

Technicians would also go into some of the local farmers’ fields in the summer to 

determine if any of the crops were contaminated. Internal Plum Brook monitoring included air and sewage tests. Technicians would routinely take sample wipes 

of laboratory instruments to determine the amount of radiation on them. They 

would also monitor the laundry operations to ensure that the contaminated clothes 

were clean and that the water was disposed of safely. Water drains were painted 

throughout Plum Brook in two different colors, magenta for radioactive water and 

green for clean water. Magenta was always the color used to designate a dangerous 

contamination area. Rope with magenta and yellow strands was used to barricade 

radiation control areas.

To ensure that Plum Brook followed its safety procedures to minimize radiation 

risk, the AEC performed frequent inspections. These included both planned and 

surprise visits.89 These inspections included reviews of all operating logs, safeguards 

minutes, and an examination of corrective actions taken as a result of problems. The 

AEC inspectors also examined all of the health safety records from the employees 

and would sometimes ship samples back to the AEC Idaho Operations Laboratory 

for analysis of the concentration of specific isotopes.90

Lee Early was a laboratory technician who performed these radiological sur87 C.D. Cagle, “Considerations Involved in the Safety Review of Experiments to be Operated in 

Nuclear Reactors,” undated, ORNL-TM-745, Box 252, Folder 6, Plum Brook Archives.

88 Interview with Don Young by Mark D. Bowles, 18 July 2002.

89 Letter from Assistant Chief Reactor Division to Reactor Division Files, “Visit of AEC, Division 

of Compliance Inspector, E.O. Smith,” 17 May 1965, Box 255, Folder 6, Plum Brook Archives.

90 Memorandum for record from chief of the Plum Brook reactor division regarding the surprise 

inspection by AEC compliance inspectors Eldon Brunner and Karl Seyfrit, 30 August 1971, Box 255, 

Folder 8, Plum Brook Archives.
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veys for a period of eight years at Plum Brook.91 He said that in all of his years of 

performing these surveys he never found any radiation levels out of the ordinary 

outside of the Plum Brook fences. However, he said that he could always tell when 

a nuclear test bomb was occurring anywhere in the world because his fallout pots 

that collected rainwater registered higher levels of radioactivity after one of these 

tests. This was the case before 1963 and the limitations imposed by the Test Ban 

Treaty. Inside the fence he would periodically find elevated radioactivity levels in his 

monitoring equipment, but when he reported the findings the engineers typically 

said that they had expected his reading to increase because of a specific experiment 

they were conducting.

All the employees wore personal “dosimeters,” which were small tube-like devices 

that measured radiation exposure. Other personal monitoring devices included film 

badges, pocket chambers, and neutron spectrum badges.92 Urinalysis tests checked 

for any internal abnormalities, and each worker also stepped into a whole-body 

radiation counter that could detect any trace amounts of contamination anywhere 

on the body. At the end of the day health physics officers took a dosimeter and badge 

reading for each employee and carefully recorded it in on a large chart. Health safety 

officers provided an assortment of protective clothing for those who worked in contaminated areas or with radioactive materials. These included coveralls, topcoats, 

undergarments, shoe covers, disposable gloves, head covers, filter masks, etc. The 

outer garments all carried the radioactive symbol on the back. The most important 

rule was never to wear these outer garments anywhere other than the in radioactive 

areas. This especially included the lunch room, library, or offices. Health physicist 

Dayne H. Brown said, “The mere presence of the ‘radioactive’ symbol in such places 

can result in criticism and confusion.”93

The AEC defined the limits of the doses that all workers could receive, and the 

chart provided a quick visual reference for where each employee was in relation to 

this limit. Over time, if a worker was exposed to more than the maximum amount 

of radiation, then his or her duties would be restricted to areas away from the reactor core or any irradiated materials. For highly radioactive jobs a timekeeper would 

be in place to help ensure that no one was overexposed too quickly. Employees 

were also reminded that if they had any preexisting cuts or abrasions in their skin, 

91 Interview with Lee Early by Mark D. Bowles, 12 August 2002.

92 Harry C. Harrison (Plum Brook health physicist), “Proper Use of Personal Monitoring Devices,” 

9 December 1963, Box 1, Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives.

93 Dayne H. Brown and Floyd B. Garrett, “Use of NASA Supplied Clothing for Radioactive 

Contamination Control,” 18 September 1964, Box 1, Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives.

Monitoring radioactive content of the water. (NASA 2005-1207)
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times in the reactor where he worked. Every precaution was taken for employees 

going into radioactive areas. They would put on protective clothing over their regular clothes—shoe covers, coveralls, several layers of rubber gloves, caps, and breathing apparatus (if necessary). Nevertheless, sometimes contaminated water would 

seep through the coveralls or contaminated dust would touch extremities. Sheibley 

said that if a health physics person discovered that he was contaminated, he would 

begin the decontamination procedure. This included scrubbing with water under 

the showers to remove the contamination from exposed skin. Regular clothes also 

had to be left at the Plum Brook hot laundry facilities for cleaning. This would take 

over 24 hours, and Sheibley returned home that evening in noncontaminated Plum 

Brook coveralls. The next day he would return to work and have his old decontaminated clothes waiting for him.94 The Plum Brook employees learned to live alongside and protect themselves from contamination and radiation.

94 Interview with Dean Sheibley by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

Moving containers of radioactive waste. (NASA 2005-1204)

they had to notify the health physics personnel so that they could ensure the injury 

would not permit the entry of contamination into the body. 

Not all of the wastes could be processed at Plum Brook, and some had to be 

shipped off site. The procedure was to put low-level radioactive materials into 50-

gallon drums, then seal them and label the contents. Then they were stored in the 

fan house until enough materials were accumulated to fill a truck. Materials with 

higher levels of radiation were placed in lead-lined casks. The primary destination 

for all of the materials was a radioactive waste dump in Morehead, Kentucky.

Water was an essential tool for the health physicist. It served not only as a shield 

to protect workers from radiation; it was also used to decontaminate a person if he 

or she came into contact with radioactive material. This could happen if people 

came out of a potentially contaminated region and did not remove their clothes 

properly, thereby tracking contamination into a clean area. The health physicists 

monitored these areas, and anyone who became contaminated was ordered into the 

showers, where the water would literally rinse off the radiation. A health physicist 

would then monitor the skin to ensure that there was no damage. For more localized 

areas of contamination, another very low-tech device was used to remove it—tape. 

Frequently, common household masking tape was used to literally pull the contamination off of whatever surface it was on, including the body.

Dean Sheibley, a radiochemistry section head, became contaminated several 

Monitoring the health of an employee. (NASA 2005-1205)
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ground, causing his right ankle to turn slightly and he fell.”96 The most probable 

cause here was identified as sunken ground due to recent rainfall, and the corrective 

action was to fill it with dirt. This level of detail indicates the attention that even the 

most minor safety hazard received. 

Though the reactor maintained a very good safety record, shutdowns or “scrams” 

(an acronym meaning Safety Control Rod Ax Man) were relatively common and 

did not necessarily mean that there was a significant danger present. For example, 

in its second year of operation there were 21 unscheduled shutdowns.97 These were 

most often due to operator errors, defective equipment, safety or control system 

malfunctions, and loss of electrical power. Forced evacuations of the containment 

area were not common, but when they did occur they usually resulted from the 

presence of high levels of airborne radiation. Flooding within the containment area 

caused at least one evacuation. The majority of medical emergencies were common 

eye, hand, and bruise injuries. Individual reactor employee radiation exposure was 

monitored daily, and health physics managers used this information to keep track 

of monthly and annual radiation exposure. This radiation safety program helped 

prevent employees from receiving exposures higher than established safe limits. In 

total, 20 percent of all of the workers at the reactor were part of the health physics 

team.98

However, on occasion accidents happened. In October 1963 there was an “incident which had the potential of causing the most severe hazard of improper operation conducted to date.”99 The problem was an improper valve lineup, and the result 

was an inadvertent draining of the water in quadrant C. To make matters worse, it 

had spent radioactive fuel in its bottom. Fortunately the operator whose task it was 

to watch the water level was alert and caught the error after only three feet of water 

had drained. Mistakes like these were inevitable, and they became important learning tools for what to avoid and how to become better operators in the future. 

Another incident occurred one evening during the second shift on 20 May 1964, 

when three workers were removing control rod drive assemblies from the subpile 

room. Because of a simple mistake they were suddenly “drenched with primary 

96 Letter from John Braeunig (radiological monitoring unit) to Charles H. Rau (reactor services 

branch), 13 July 1972, Box 255, Folder 1, Plum Brook Archives.

97 “Report of Reactor Operations for the NASA Plum Brook Reactor,” 12 May 1965, Box 40, File 

4, p. 7.

98 PBRF Records. Cabinet 12: Medical & Bioassay Records.

99 Newsgram #14, 30 October 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

A health and safety officer wrote a report on every accident that occurred at 

Plum Brook, from employee contamination to other types of problems. Each report 

described the accident, listed the most probable cause and detailed the corrective 

action taken and the future action recommended. For example, one report highlighted a serious safety problem when John R. Baughman fell backward from the lily 

pad platform onto the reactor tank dome. The issue was that the walkway on the lily 

pad was narrow and had no hand railing for support. To prevent this problem from 

recurring, NASA installed a new railing.95 These accident reports described serious 

problems, but safety officers also wrote them for the most minor of cases. In 1972 

William Belsterli was walking outside the cooling tower on an inspection tour, and 

as he stepped off the sidewalk “his foot landed in a small grass covered hole in the 

95 Memo from Head of Reactor and Systems Operations Unit to Chief of the Reactor Division, 16 

March 1973, Box 255, Folder 1, Plum Brook Archives.

A technician emerges from the rear of the hot laboratory in full protective clothing. Another technician 

wheels open the massive 63-inch-thick concrete door plug. (NASA CS-22203)
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A health physicist examining clothing for traces of radiation. (NASA 2005-1206)

A Plum Brook technician wearing protective clothing and a mask washes contaminated clothing. (NASA 

C-2003-841)

water contaminating themselves and their protective clothing.”100 They were immediately taken to the decontamination shower and were closely monitored by health 

safety personnel. After several showers they were cleaned of the radioactivity, and 

airborne tests showed no other remaining contamination. These risks were considered worth taking because reactor employees firmly believed in the importance of 

the experimental program at Plum Brook.

Simple accidents could occur as well, and everyone had to be constantly aware 

that the slightest misstep could cause a serious problem. One concern was people 

inadvertently dropping items into the reactor quadrants. No one was allowed to 

carry loose items with them when they walked around the tanks. This included 

tools, items in pockets, instruments, hats, etc. But this rule was sometimes difficult 

to remember. In one instance a technician dropped a calibration tool from a radiation instrument into the tank. Although this did no real damage, it was possible for 

small objects like this to compromise an experiment and cause the loss of a great deal 

100 Lawrence A. Thaler, “Report of Reactor Operations, Cycle 19,” 14 May 1964 to 27 June 1964, 

J. Ross and T. L. Junod, “Health Safety,” 7, Plum Brook Library.
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thing. The public is very easily alarmed by things that are played up in the media 

as hazardous.”104

Radiation Deaths at Plum Brook?

One significant media scare at Plum Brook came from Ernest J. Sternglass, the 

director of radiological physics at the University of Pittsburgh’s School of Medicine. 

In 1973, the same year that the Plum Brook reactor began shutting down, Sternglass 

studied radioactive emissions from the reactor and came to some startling conclusions. He used data provided by the Ohio Bureau of Vital Statistics and claimed 

that in the Sandusky region (where the reactor was located), mortality rates, cancer 

deaths, and premature births were all higher than in other nearby cities. He argued 

that heart-disease deaths had increased by 23% in Sandusky from 1958 to 1970, 

whereas the state as a whole had experienced only a one percent increase. Likewise, 

infant mortality had decreased by 27% in the state and had increased by 3% in Sandusky during this same period of time. These alarming statistics appeared in front 

page headlines in the Sandusky Register. Sternglass said, “It is clear that only the pattern of radioactivity wastes diffusing from a nuclear reactor fits all the measurement 

and mortality statistics at Plum Brook.”105

NASA did not immediately have a response to Sternglass’s attack. Immediately 

after the announcement Alan “Hap” Johnson, director of Plum Brook, told reporters that he would not comment. He furthermore dismissed the Sternglass findings, 

stating: “I’m a busy man and I have a busy schedule, and I can’t take the time to read 

the entire Sternglass statement and all the supporting material he claims to base his 

findings upon.”106 Johnson said that the issue was out of his hands and that it was up 

to the AEC to decide the matter and the threat level posed by Plum Brook.

Sternglass believed that the AEC, which was so closely aligned with the reactor industry, was unable to police itself. He claimed that the AEC was hiding the 

truth about these emissions. Related stories in the Sandusky Register told of the AEC 

hiding key facts about radiation dangers. In one article it reported that the “AEC 

was part of an ‘atomic establishment’ which uses secrecy and confusion to stifle 

104 Interview with Jim Blue by Virginia Dawson, September 2002.

105 Ernest J. Sternglass, in Tim Sowecke, “Radiation-Death Claim Repeated,” Sandusky Register 

(26 July 1973): 1.

106 “Johnson Mum on Charges,” Sandusky Register (27 July 1973): 1.

of operating time.101 The most famous story about recovering an item was when a 

Lucite box, supposed to float on top of the water, suddenly sank to the bottom. This 

occurred before the reactor went critical and there was not a great deal of radiation. 

While others were debating how to get it out, Tom Tambling, one of the engineers, 

decided that he could get it himself. He quickly took off his clothes, jumped in the 

water, and dove down 20 feet to retrieve the box. Joe Savino later recalled this was 

“not exactly an approved safety procedure.”102 Stories like this demonstrate the level 

of personal commitment to ensuring that the reactor would be a success. 

Accidents also occurred in the control room. One day Jim Greer, an operator, 

was cleaning the control panel when he inadvertently pressed the Poison Injection 

System start button. This was a safety system that contained explosive valves and a 

pressurized tank filled with gadolinium nitrate solution, a neutron absorber (called 

a “neutron poison”). This system was designed to shut down the reactor by injecting 

the gadolinium nitrate solution into the primary cooling water, which circulated 

through the reactor core, to absorb neutrons so that a chain reaction would not 

occur. Greer quickly realized his mistake and announced on the intercom, “The 

reactor has scrammed, the reactor has scrammed.” Everyone reacted as they had 

been trained to do in numerous emergency drills. It took several days to clean the 

gadolinium nitrate out of the water system. When it was finally removed the reactor started up again safely. The day after the incident Greer wrote up an “unusual 

occurrence report,” and he later said, “All I could do was hang my head in shame 

for a few days and then everybody patted me on the back and said, ‘Jim, it could 

happen to anybody.’”103 Later a plastic cover was installed over the poison injection system start button to prevent any further accidental actuation. Plum Brook 

employees always tried to learn from their mistakes. This error actually presented an 

opportunity to prove that the quantity of gadolinium nitrate needed to shut down 

the system was correct. 

Was the community satisfied with the Plum Brook safety record? The extensive 

outreach effort consisting of speaking engagements and the frequent tours and open 

houses did have a very positive effect on the community. However, it was impossible 

to convince everyone that the reactor was safe. Jim Blue said, “I think one has to 

recognize when you’re doing a nuclear program that you’re not going to satisfy the 

general public or perhaps even the media, at least some of the media, that you’ve got 

a safe program. It doesn’t matter what you do, they’re going to treat it as a hazardous 

101 Newsgram #15, 20 November 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

102 Interview with Joe Savino by Mark Bowles, 21 September 2002.

103 Interview with Jim Greer by Mark D. Bowles, 5 February 2002.
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ing to Plum Brook health physicist Tom Junod, that the NASA equipment was 

“not sensitive enough” to determine whether area residents were receiving too much 

radiation. Nevertheless, it was his belief that this level of radiation had a negligible 

effect on the human body. He said that someone who works at a reactor is allowed 

a dosage of 5,000 milliroentgens per year. Someone from the public is allowed 500 

milliroentgens per year, but the average person receives 170 milliroentgens per year 

from background sources of radiation. In comparison, Junod said that Plum Brook 

likely sent a maximum of 240 milliroentgens into the air around the Sandusky 

region. The Plum Brook equipment could not measure below 20 milliroentgens per 

month, and so this is how he calculated the 12-month, 240-milliroentgen average. 

This permissible dose was therefore within AEC recommendations for radioactivity 

release, yet these levels were unacceptable for researchers like Sternglass, who argued 

that this was the primary factor driving up mortality rates. 

Today there remains no definitive conclusion about Sternglass’s research or his 

warnings about low-level radiation risk. J. Newell Stannard, who has written a 

definitive history on the subject of radioactivity and health, believed that Sternglass’s research raised important questions that have yet to be answered. Stannard 

said, “No one can prove conclusively that [Stannard] is wrong, only that much more 

information would be needed to prove that he is right.”114 There was, and still is, 

no objective way to know what absolute risk level is posed by low-level radiation. 

Scientists disagree, and the public is left uncertain about what is and is not safe. 

One example of this debate at Plum Brook was a controversy surrounding NASA’s 

attempts to establish a new “safety zone.” 

The Community Protests the “Safety” Zone

In the late 1960s NASA made plans to establish a new “safety zone” around 

Plum Brook.115 This was 3,000 acres of land designed to buffer the local community 

from any hazardous activity that might take place behind its fences. NASA officials 

argued that it had a responsibility to protect the community from any potential 

“escape of nuclear radiation.”116 They believed the buffer zone would increase the 

safety of the local population if one of the existing containment vessels ruptured. 

This could occur either because of an accident in the reactor, or because of the other 

114 J. Newell Stannard, Radioactivity and Health, A History (Virginia: Battelle Memorial Institute, 

1988), p. 1024.

115 “Safety Zone Eyes in Plum Brook Bid,” Plain Dealer (14 February 1967).

116 “NASA Reveals Lines—Land Owners Ask Questions,” Sandusky Register (14 February 1967).

protest and subvert the public’s right to know.”107 Michael D’Antonio has recently 

supported this contention that the government had hidden portions of our nuclear 

past in his book Atomic Harvest. He has written that it will be impossible to measure 

“the shattered faith of thousands of loyal citizens who were deceived and betrayed 

by their government.”108

Sternglass’s published statements widely criticized the safety record of numerous nuclear facilities. But his statistics were also attacked by the scientific community. B. Kim Mortensen, chief of the epidemiology and toxicology bureau, criticized Sternglass’s mortality claims about the Perry Nuclear Power Plant in Ohio. 

Mortensen said, “The rise is artificial. He created the rise. If you look at what he did, 

he picked points, whether intentional or not, that made them go in the direction 

he wanted.”109 James Wynd, director of the Radiological Monitoring Division at the 

Ohio health department, also disagreed with Sternglass’s conclusions. But he and 

the state Environmental Protection Agency claimed that the radiation discharged 

into the air and water around Plum Brook was the “highest recorded in Ohio.”110

Despite these levels the EPA said that these were “within AEC limits.”111 It was in 

this area of a perceived safe amount of radiation that Sternglass had his greatest 

support. George Wald, a Nobel laureate in physiology and medicine from Harvard, 

wrote that in general Sternglass made a strong case and that the most important 

point was that there was no “permissible level” of radiation exposure. Wald stated, 

“There is no threshold: a little, however little, causes some increased risk, and more 

causes more risk.”112

 NASA was never able to prove the Sternglass theory incorrect. Soon after he 

published his findings, the Sandusky Register reported that NASA was “unable to 

disprove claims by a noted radiologist that Plum Brook is causing an increase in the 

mortality rate in the Sandusky area.”113 The reason for this inability was, accord107 “Charge of AEC Part of ‘Atomic Establishment,” Sandusky Register (14 August 1973): 1.

108 Michael D’Antonio, Atomic Harvest: Hanford and the Lethal Toll of America’s Nuclear Arsenal 

(New York: Crown Publishers, 1993), p. 3.

109 B. Kim Mortensen, Cleveland Plain Dealer (7 October 1993), as found at www.nei.org. 

Accessed 13 May 2005.

110 “Radiation Within Limits: AEC,” Sandusky Register (6 August 1973): 1.

111 “Plum Brook Radiation Levels Brought Into A-Plant Hearing,” Sandusky Register (25 July 

1973): 1, 6.

112 George Wald, introduction to Ernest J. Sternglass, Secret Fallout: Low-Level Radiation from 

Horoshima to Three Mile Island (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1981).

113 Cess Niceswanger, “Radiation Within Limits: AEC,” Sandusky Register (6 August 1973): 1.
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The debate over a safety zone provided a forum for the community to raise safety 

concerns about Plum Brook. It was likely these safety concerns had existed below 

the surface for many years, and the sudden emphasis by NASA on the need for an 

additional buffer zone brought them to light. Residents held secret meetings and 

pooled their resources to do their best to protest the decision, but as one resident 

said, “You can’t fight the government.”122 So they tried to get the government on 

its side by enlisting Eighth District Representative Jackson E. Betts to launch a 

congressional inquiry into the land purchase. He attacked NASA’s safety rationale, 

stating, “A buffer strip is designed to protect somebody from something. [Residents] 

want to know, ‘protect who from what?’”123

Betts called for NASA to open its “curtain of secrecy” and truly explain what 

activities it was pursuing that necessitated such a large “safety zone.” He contacted 

NASA’s highest ranking officials to try to make his case. In 1968 he wrote a letter 

to Thomas Paine, NASA’s acting administrator. He told him that after meeting 

with the local community they were concerned about why a buffer was needed and 

how Plum Brook’s research would “endanger adjacent property and buildings.”124 If 

there was real danger, then the community was also concerned because the proposed 

buffer extended only along the east and south sides of Plum Brook, but not the 

north. Just north of the facility was a residential region, and Betts pressed the issue 

of why safety seemed not to be a concern there. 

NASA never answered these questions to the satisfaction of the community. So 

in 1969 Congressman Betts coordinated a way for the landowners to make their case 

to NASA in Washington, DC. Betts, along with Robert Hermes (Oxford Township 

trustee), Fred Deering (Erie county commissioner), William Dwelle (Perkins Township trustee), and Floren James (county agriculture agent), met with NASA top 

officials. They made the case that the “danger factor” should be removed from Plum 

Brook.125 Furthermore, if NASA could not eliminate the hazards, then the residents 

wanted to at least be informed exactly what the risks were. Hermes said, “We want 

122 “A United Front Against NASA? Secret Meeting Probes Prices,” Sandusky Register (20 November 

1968). “Where Am I Going to Go?” Sandusky Register (10 January 1968).

123 Ron L. Coffman, “Betts Tell Landowners He’ll Probe NASA Land Deal,” Sandusky Register (21 

November 1968).

124 Jackson Betts to Thomas O. Paine, 5 December 1968, Box 88, Folder 20, Plum Brook 

Archives.

125 “Landowners Join Betts to Ask Removal of NASA Danger Factor,” Sandusky Register (3 April 

1969).

rocket tests using liquid hydrogen fuels at Plum Brook. The problem was that this 

land was already owned by over 50 residents who used the fertile soil for crop production. NASA budgeted $2.1 million for the purchase, giving the farmers $700 

per acre. Some of these farming families remembered the traumatic experience of 

having the government take their land by eminent domain during World War II. 

Now it was their turn to experience something similar to what their parents had 30 

years previously.117

This was the same property that the government had actually sold back to the 

farmers nearly two decades earlier, as surplus from the ordnance works days. But 

there was a clause in the deeds that the farmers signed stating that the government 

had a right to buy back the land within 20 years. This period was about to expire, 

and NASA was ready to exercise its claim.118 On 21 August 1967 Congress authorized the acquisition of 57 tracks of land. NASA knew that it also had a strong claim 

on the land, but it also knew, as one politician stated, of the callous way that the 

government had acted toward these families during World War II. Local Congressman Charles Mosher wrote to one landowner, “NASA is very conscious of the fact 

that years ago . . . the government evidently acted in a very arbitrary and obnoxious 

manner.”119 NASA hoped it could achieve its expansion goals while also treating the 

farmers as well as possible. 

NASA not only wanted the land as a safety zone, but it also thought that it 

would be important for the future growth of Plum Brook. Deputy Director of Lewis 

Research Center Eugene J. Manganiello said, “We would be subject to criticism if 

we found ourselves hemmed in.”120 Officials were convinced that the nation’s commitment to space exploration and nuclear rockets would only increase in the future. 

In an era of well-funded NASA budgets, expansion sometimes took precedence over 

need. Hap Johnson, Plum Brook’s director, stated in 1967 that though safety and 

expansion were the primary reasons behind the land acquisition, the “exact needs 

were not known.” Nor did he believe that they would be known, because, he said, 

“It [is] a little difficult to try and guess into the future.” 121

117 “U.S. Plum Brook Addition Fought,” Plain Dealer (2 February 1967).

118 “NASA, Owners To Meet—Protest Brings Government Response,” Sandusky Register (9 

February 1967).

119 Charles Mosher to Mrs. Richard J. Fries, 3 May 1967, Box 88, Folder 19, Plum Brook 

Archives.

120 “Safety Zone Eyes in Plum Brook Bid,” Plain Dealer (14 February 1967).

121 Alan Johnson quoted in, “NASA Plans Expansion of Plum Brook Station,” Sandusky Register 

(26 January 1967).
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Buoy, a resident and guidance counselor from the local Vermillion high school, also 

questioned what she called the “danger element” in one town meeting. She said, 

“It just doesn’t make sense. You mean an explosion is not going to affect [other] 

residents? You mean smells from the plant are going to stop in the middle of Patton 

Tract Road [the outer edge of the proposed safety zone]?”130 Arthur Feger, a 70-yearold barber, had built a home on this land that he planned to retire in. He told one 

community group that he would not be as upset if NASA really needed the property 

for growth or safety. But he was firmly convinced, “I don’t think they need all that 

for a buffer zone.”131

Fred Deering, senior Erie County commissioner, took his concerns to Abe Silverstein, head of Lewis Research Center in Cleveland. But Deering did not meet 

with the sympathetic ear that he was hoping for. After the meeting Deering said, 

“[Silverstein] was abrupt and unfriendly. We walked into his office door and he 

started insulting us, saying we were just a bunch of publicity seekers.”132 The Erie 

county commissioners eventually passed a resolution condemning the federal purchase plan and argued that if Plum Brook contained “something dangerous . . . 

[it shouldn’t even] be in this populated area anyway.”133 The Perkins Chamber of 

Commerce and the Sandusky Chamber of Commerce also officially denounced the 

NASA plan, arguing that the land should remain in private hands.134

But NASA officials tried to sell the community on the idea that not only did the 

buffer zone make the community safer, Plum Brook was also a great stimulus to the 

local economy. Manganiello told local residents that a stronger, bigger Plum Brook 

was good for the community in terms of salaries and taxes. He said, “In the long 

run you’re making a long-range investment which will return big dividends.”135 But 

some were concerned that NASA budgets would not be able to support an aggressive expansion policy and that this long-range investment would never pay off. An 

editorial in the Sandusky Register stated, “Government budgets are becoming such 

130 Joyce Buoy, quoted in, “NASA Will Take ‘Buffer’ Acreage,” Sandusky Register (10 January 

1968).

131 “Where Am I Going to Go?” Sandusky Register (10 January 1968).

132 Ron L. Coffman, “Silverstein ‘Insulted Us’—Negotiators,” Sandusky Register (17 June 1969).

133 “Erie Snubs NASA Land Acquisition,” Sandusky Register (20 February 1969).

134 “Perkins Chamber Opposes NASA,” Sandusky Register (17 April 1969).

135 Eugene Manganiello quoted in, “NASA Will Take ‘Buffer’ Acreage,” Sandusky Register (10 

January 1968).

to know what we must be protected from.”126 Betts argued that facilities like this 

should be in remote places in Nevada, not in the middle of a populated area in 

Ohio. He made the case that instead of a buffer, Plum Brook should change its focus 

away from hazardous experiments that endangered the population.127

Congress held a hearing to discuss the issues involved in the creation of this zone. 

William Woodward, the director of the Plum Brook Space Power Facility, stated that 

he was not concerned about the reactor “doing damage to people,” especially if a 

larger safety zone was established. He said that any release of contaminated materials 

was well below the established “safe limits” in terms of “parts per million” of hazardous materials released beyond the Plum Brook fences. Congressman Kenneth William Hechler of West Virginia immediately took offense at Woodward’s statement. 

He said, “I become suspicious . . . whenever anybody talks about parts per million 

in the atmosphere.” He said that industry in the past has made the same claims that 

pollution was “not a threat to health,” when in fact the Public Health Service argued 

differently. Hechler said, in considering the safety risks at Plum Brook, “I wonder 

whether this really is something that is a potentially serious threat to the health of 

the people of the [Sandusky] area.”128

NASA responded that there was simply increased danger if the buffer zone was 

not there. The buffer had previously existed in the form of farmland. The act of 

buying back the land ensured that it would always remain vacant. James London, 

NASA’s deputy director of research and technology, said, “Our work at Plum Brook 

can be dangerous if not properly handled—and shielded.”129 The buffer zone presented a level of additional safety should any of the already built containment vessels 

fail. NASA claimed that it had already invested $100 million in the various Plum 

Brook facilities, and it was not going to reduce the scope of its research to be less 

dangerous in the future when a long-term fix like the buffer zone could solve this 

problem. 

Some local residents did not believe that “safety” or the community’s well-being 

was reason enough for the expansion. To some the danger of Plum Brook had always 

been there, and the buffer zone would do little to protect the community. Joyce 

126 Ron L. Coffman, “Landowners to Talk to NASA in Washington,” Sandusky Register (10 February 

1969).

127 Ron L. Coffman, “’Buffer’ Compromise Leaves Owners Doubtful,” Sandusky Register (14 

March 1969).

128 “Statement of William Woodward, 1969 NASA Authorization,” page 577, Box 88, Folder 9, 

Plum Brook Archives.

129 James London, quoted in Ron L. Coffman, “Betts: Can NASA Move Plum Brook Testing 

Hazards?” Sandusky Register (27 February 1969).
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214

that vastly increased funds for NASA just won’t be continuing as in the past.”136

When some residents brought up concerns that Vietnam and other social pressures 

would divert government funds away from NASA growth, congressional and NASA 

officials quickly silenced these rumors.137 Local Congressman Charles Mosher was 

emphatic about one point. He said, “You can get rid of any notions that [Plum 

Brook] is going to close up. . . . I’d like to kill that rumor right now.”138

Mosher’s prediction was dead wrong. Plum Brook’s days were numbered after 

Apollo 17 returned to Earth, carrying the last of the astronauts to visit the Moon. 

Their return signified a new era at NASA that emphasized reusability and confined 

human involvement in space to orbiting Earth. There was no longer budgetary support for nuclear rockets, and the philosophical and financial landscape was tilting 

away from Plum Brook. In March 1970 the government took title to the property 

around Plum Brook for its safety zone, still espousing its argument that despite the 

sacrifice of a few families, it was good for the local community to invest in an important technological capability for the nation.139 Less than three years later, in January 

1973, the workers at Plum Brook’s reactor received the unexpected news that their 

work was about to end. The government had decided that it no longer needed a 

nuclear rocket, and the entire Plum Brook facility was about to close down. 

136 “NASA: A Middle Ground,” Sandusky Register (20 June 1969).

137 “Plum Brook Financial ‘Pinch’ Likely,” Lorain Journal (4 May 1967).

138 Charles Mosher quoted in, “NASA Will Take ‘Buffer’ Acreage,” Sandusky Register (10 January 

1968); “Statement by Congressman Charles A. Mosher on Plum Brook Land Acquisition,” 8 January 

1968, Box 88, Folder 18, Plum Brook Archives.

139 Land Acquisition Office to Director of Plum Brook Station regarding “Acquired Property,” 25 

March 1970, Box 88, Folder 34, Plum Brook Archives.
Halting Nuclear Momentum

On 14 December 1972 two men awoke on the surface of the Moon to the 

music of Richard Strauss’s “Thus Spake Zarathustra.” This was to be the last day that 

any human would spend on the lunar surface in the twentieth century. NASA had 

chosen this music for Apollo 17 astronauts Eugene Cernan and Harrison Schmitt’s 

wake-up call because of its association with Stanley Kubrick’s movie 2001: A Space 

Odyssey, which had premiered four years earlier.1

 The underlying themes of Strauss’s 

symphony and Kubrick’s film seemed most appropriate for the superhuman effort 

required for these men to land, walk, play, and perform scientific research on the 

Moon. At the Frankfurt premiere of the symphony in 1896, Strauss said, “I wished 

to convey by means of music an idea of the development of the human race from its 

origin, through the various phases of its development, religious and scientific, up to 

Nietzsche’s idea of the superman.”2

 Kubrick likewise used this music not only for its 

ominous opening tones, but also because of the idea of human progress, from the 

Earth and into space. For these same reasons NASA selected it for the final ceremonial wake-up call to its astronauts.

But Nietzsche’s philosophical tale of Zarathustra, the superman, did not conclude with his unending ascension of the ladder of progress. Ironically, his quest for 

knowledge ended in retreat. At the beginning of the story Zarathustra went into the 

mountains seeking wisdom, but after ten years his quest became too much for him, 

and he decided to leave the mountain and return home. He said, “Zarathustra is 

again going to be a man.” Though NASA did not intend it, the Strauss symphony in 

homage to Nietzsche’s superman was much more a symbol than a simple allusion to 

a popular science fiction movie. Like Zarathustra, the “supermen” astronauts were 

1

 “Apollo 17 Lunar Surface Journal,” transcript by Eric M. Jones, found at www.hq.nasa.gov/alsj/

a17/a17.launch.html.

2

 Richard Strauss, quote from the premiere of Also Sprach Zarathustra, Op. 30 (1896), James 

L. Christian, Philosophy: An Introduction to the Art of Wondering (California: Thomson Wadsworth, 

2006), p. 14.

6

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space. Although scientific support for the experiments at Plum Brook continued, 

the political and public commitment changed. Plum Brook had been subject to 

such an unpredictable political climate before when Kennedy suddenly shifted the 

program’s focus from a nuclear airplane to a nuclear rocket. But this time the change 

would not be in a new direction for research. This time the momentum shift would 

bring Plum Brook’s demise.

Seventeen days after the Apollo 17 splashdown, NASA officials called a sudden 

meeting at the Plum Brook auditorium, and the head of Lewis Research Center, 

Bruce Lundin, made the surprise announcement that all of Plum Brook was to shut 

down immediately. NASA could no longer support its long-term research programs. 

These became limited by budgetary constraints in favor of projects that promised 

short-term results. The first project to suspend operations was to be the nuclear 

reactor, and suddenly on 5 January 1973, the nuclear momentum ended.

Apollo 17 Crew Eugene Cernan, Ronald Evans, and Harrison Schmitt at the Lewis Research Center with 

Bruce Lundin. (NASA C-1973-00774)

also about to come down from their mountain. Five days after awakening on the 

Moon for the last time, on 19 December, the Apollo 17 mission splashed down in 

the Pacific Ocean. Its return signified the end of Apollo and a new vision for NASA 

that included massive budget cuts, program closures, and a new philosophy of space 

exploration. Trips to the Moon were no longer a national priority, and much of the 

infrastructure used to support space exploration died with it. 

Historian Thomas Hughes’s theory of large technical systems can be used to 

understand the sudden termination and loss of momentum for technological projects. In his work “systems” comprised numerous interacting components that were 

both technical and nontechnical. Technical components were the physical artifacts 

used to design the system, whereas the nontechnical components included political, economic, social, and institutional factors.3

 The various organizations involved 

in creating and maintaining a system made up the system’s culture. A key part of 

Hughes’s theory was that as any system grows, it acquires momentum through 

the symbiotic relationship between the technical and nontechnical components. 

Momentum increases as engineers solve critical technical problems and as the political culture continues to support the endeavor. But momentum does not always 

move forward. A technological catastrophe, a conversion in society’s belief system, or 

a changing cultural contingency (political, environmental, economic, etc.) could all 

result in the loss of momentum and potential project termination.4

After Apollo 17 the government and NASA adopted a new vision of spaceflight 

that immediately ended the momentum they had generated since Kennedy declared 

it a national goal of vital political and technical significance. In the wake of this 

changing vision the Apollo program came to an inglorious conclusion. Astronaut 

Cernan said, “Apollo was over and NASA’s golden age of exploration was fast fading 

into glimmering memory.”5

 Humans abandoned the spaceflight missions beyond 

low-Earth orbit, and the infrastructure that had been built up to achieve these 

endeavors came to a crashing halt. One casualty of this change was the Plum Brook 

reactor. NASA’s new vision consisted of shuttling humans back and forth into orbit, 

and facilities like the reactor no longer had a future use. Nuclear propulsion itself 

had no place in the new Space Shuttle era. The Plum Brook reactor was designed 

in an era that had political, scientific, and public support for nuclear initiatives in 

3

 Thomas Hughes, Networks of Power: Electrification in Western Society, 1880–1930 (Baltimore, 

MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1983), p. 6.

4

 Hughes, American Genesis: A Century of Technological Innovation and Enthusiasm (London, 

England: Penguin Books, 1989), p. 462.

5

 Eugene Cernan and Don Davis, The Last Man on the Moon (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1999), 

p. 342. 
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As Plum Brook was reaching its maturity, NASA entered some of its most difficult years. Richard Nixon had just taken over the White House, and he inherited 

from Lyndon Johnson massive budgetary commitments to the Vietnam War, social 

reforms of the Great Society, and the civilian space program.9

 By late 1972, despite 

proclamations that “peace is at hand,” Nixon ordered a massive attack (the infamous “Christmas Bombings”) on Hanoi on 18 December, just a day before the 

last Apollo astronauts returned to Earth.10 With the war apparently escalating the 

federal budget had to be substantially reduced. The space program was the first to be 

scaled back because, according to historian Joan Hoff, it was the smallest program 

that Nixon had inherited. Furthermore, it became the “easiest to target for cuts 

by the new economy-minded administration because it had the least broad public 

constituency.”11 Space was no longer the special place that had captured the hearts 

and minds of the public during the early Apollo voyages and subsequent ticker-tape 

parades for the returning astronauts. Nor was there any longer an added political 

incentive of a space race with a rival superpower. America had won the race, and 

political support and funding turned elsewhere. 

Over $200 million in budgetary cuts by the Nixon administration resulted in 

a troubling new period for NASA.12 The government slashed or eliminated much 

of the infrastructure that supported deep-space exploration. As Walter McDougall explained, “By the time of the last Apollo flights even men on the moon were 

boring.”13 In early 1973 Newsweek questioned whether the administration was 

downgrading all scientific activity.14 Specific targets in these cutbacks were longrange scientific initiatives and basic and applied research. 

However, the government did make new space commitments during this period 

when the Moon missions were successfully completed. NASA was at a crossroads. 

Faced with tightening budgets, its leaders decided that seemingly more economical 

9

 Jonathan Aitken, Nixon: A Life (Washington, DC: Regnery Publishing, 1993).

10 Stephen R. Ambrose, Nixon: Volume III, Ruin and Recovery (New York: Simon & Schuster, 

1987), pp. 38–59.

11 Joan Hoff, “The Presidency, Congress, and the Deceleration of the U.S. Space Program in the 

1970s,” Spaceflight and the Myth of Presidential Leadership, ed. Roger Launius and Howard E. McCurdy 

(Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1997), p. 92.

12 Harold M. Schmeck, Jr., “NASA Cuts Programs to Save $200-Million in Current Budget,” New 

York Times (6 January 1973): 11.

13 Walter A. McDougall, The Heavens and the Earth: A Political History of the Space Age (New York: 

Basic Books, Inc., 1985), p. 422.

14 “Is Science Being Downgraded?” Newsweek (12 February 1973): 66–67.

The Dark Days at NASA

By the early 1970s Plum Brook Station had become a vibrant research community, boasting several world-class and unique testing facilities. Soon after the reactor 

was constructed and went critical in 1961, NASA began building other test and 

research facilities at Plum Brook (see Appendix D for descriptions of these facilities). 

These included:

• Space Power Facility (SPF)

• Spacecraft Propulsion Research Facility (B-2)

• Rocket Dynamics and Control Facility (B-3)

• Cryogenic Propellant Tank Site (K-Site)

• Controls and Turbine Test Site

• Dynamics Research Test Center (E Site)

• Liquid Hydrogen Pump Site

• Control and Instrument Building

• Hypersonic Tunnel Facility

• Rocket Engine Dynamics Facility

• High Energy Rocket Engine Research Facility

• Fluorine Pump Site

These other sites were primarily concerned with research and testing chemical 

and nuclear rocket applications and liquid hydrogen fuel. Robert Kozar, former 

director of Plum Brook, stated that the experimental research and testing sites at 

the station helped to establish the “legacy of hydrogen” and contributed to groundbreaking nuclear and space simulation experimentation.6

 By 1969 all of the Plum 

Brook facilities were completed, and together they were valued at $114 million. Its 

installations included testing facilities for rocket engines, launch vehicle systems, 

engine components, high-energy propellants, and full-scale spacecraft (chemical 

and nuclear).7

 Over 630 civil servants and 132 support service contractors worked 

at Plum Brook during its peak years.8

6

 Interview with Robert Kozar by Virginia Dawson and Mark D. Bowles, 30 March 2000.

7

 “Lewis Research Center, 30th Anniversary,” unprocessed Plum Brook Archives.

8

 “Plum Brook Station Review,”30 December 1976, NASA-Glenn Research Center, unprocessed 

archives.
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brought the antinuclear movement to life.”20 Nonmaterialists espoused new values 

which included a mission to protect and preserve the environment. This conversion 

to a new value system by individual activists influenced state governments, eroded 

the authority of scientists and the federal government, and ended the broad support for the nuclear movement. Jim Blue, radiation physics branch chief at Lewis 

Research Center, said that antinuclear activity was a great concern for all those who 

worked within the NASA nuclear program because everyone knew that they were 

“going to face a lot of resistance from the public.”21 Historian Spencer R. Weart 

wrote that by the early 1970s “environmentalism [gave] a solid base for the opposition to reactors.”22

Because of these new political and environmental realities and space recommitments, the early 1970s became a very difficult period for all of NASA and in particular the Lewis Research Center and Plum Brook, its satellite station. With the 

space program changing and antinuclear sentiment turning the tide against reactors, 

the space and nuclear programs at Lewis and Plum Brook were in serious jeopardy. 

In 1971 the laboratory cut 700 civil service employees. In 1972, 400 additional 

people were terminated from space nuclear power and propulsion systems. In space 

research, 318 people lost their jobs, and 100 other employees chose early retirement. 

As historian Virginia Dawson wrote in her history of the laboratory, “Nothing in 

Bruce Lundin’s background prepared him to preside over the most difficult period 

in the history of Lewis Research Center.”23

 Bruce Lundin was born in 1919 and graduated from the University of California in 1942 with a degree in mechanical engineering.24 One year later he joined 

the Lewis Laboratory and worked during World War II to improve aircraft engine 

performance. In 1946 he became chief of the jet propulsion research section and 

conducted some of the first research on turbojet engines. In 1957, when Lewis 

was still in the NACA organization, he established himself as a bold and aggressive 

visionary for the agency. In a December 1957 memo to Abe Silverstein he argued 

that research was essential for national survival. He said, “In our technological age, 

20 Thomas Raymond Wellock, Critical Mass: Opposition to Nuclear Power in California, 1968–1978 

(Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1998), p. 8.

21 Interview with Jim Blue by Virginia Dawson, September 2002.

22 Spencer R. Weart, Nuclear Fear: A History (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1988), pp. 

325–326.

23 Virginia Dawson, Engines and Innovation (Washington, DC: NASA SP-4306, 1991), p. 201.

24 “Bruce T. Lundin,” biographical file (Washington, DC: NASA Historical Reference Collection, 

NASA History Division, NASA Headquarters).

ferrying systems and reusability were the most important goals to strive for in the 

future. In November 1971 NASA administrator James C. Fletcher listed three key 

reasons for making a reusable space shuttle the focus of the post-Apollo program. 

First, the shuttle was the only new program that was both meaningful and cost 

effective. Second, the shuttle would significantly reduce the complexity of future 

space operations. Finally, the shuttle could perform useful functions, such as helping to build a space station.15 Two months later, after a meeting with Fletcher and 

his deputy, George Low, President Richard Nixon officially announced the plan to 

dramatically change the American initiative in space.16 He called the centerpiece of 

the new system a space vehicle that could “shuttle repeatedly from earth to orbit and 

back.”17 The Space Shuttle was born, and with it the dream to revolutionize space 

travel by making the voyage routine and the craft reusable.18

The idea of reusability was also related to a new societal emphasis on conservation and recycling. For the Apollo missions the spacecraft was used only once, and 

only a small pod returned to Earth with the astronauts inside. Comparing spaceflight to oceanic voyages, some observers suggested the absurd analogy of building 

an elaborate vessel like the Queen Elizabeth II, only to destroy it after it crossed 

the Atlantic one time.19 In an era of environmental consciousness, Apollo looked 

expensive and wasteful. For the Space Shuttle, the majority of the craft could be 

used again and again. 

Environmentalists were also protesting the use of nuclear power. Concern about 

the health and vitality of Earth increased throughout the 1960s, and nuclear weapons, power, and research were some of the central contributing causes of alarm. 

Thomas Raymond Wellock described the importance of these values and the rise of 

the antinuclear movement. He said, “New social values as much as any other factor 

15 James C. Fletcher, “The Space Shuttle,” 22 November 1971, Exploring the Unknown, Vol. I, pp. 

555–558.

16 Henry C. Dethloff, “The Space Shuttle’s First Flight: STS-1,” From Engineering Science to 

Big Science; The NACA and NASA Collier Trophy Winners, ed. Pamela E. Mack (Washington, DC: 

Government Printing Office, 1998), p. 286. 

17 White House Press Secretary, “The White House, Statement by the President,” 5 January 1972, 

Richard M. Nixon Presidential Files, NASA Historical Reference Collection, NASA Headquarters, 

Washington, DC, in Roger D. Launius, “Nixon Approves the Space Shuttle,” in NASA: A History of 

the U.S. Civil Space Program (Malabar, FL: Krieger Publishing, 1994), p. 232. 

18 For a bibliography on the history of the Space Shuttle, see Roger D. Launius and Aaron K. 

Gillette, Toward a History of the Space Shuttle: An Annotated Bibliography, Studies in Aerospace History, 

1 (December 1992).

19 Isaac Asimov, “Coming of Age,” foreword to Jerry Grey, Enterprise (New York: William Morrow, 

1979), pp. 7–9. 
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NASA’s goals.28 In 1971 the New York Times characterized this period as a “low 

point in that agency’s fortunes,” due to budget cuts, serious moral issue, and a lack 

of public support.29 Fletcher had an uphill battle ahead of him as he tried to reshape 

and revitalize NASA. One way to do this was to concentrate on programs like the 

Shuttle and stop work on nuclear initiatives. Nuclear rockets for deep-space exploration required a long-term commitment, and NASA was fighting for survival in 

the present. In September 1972 Fletcher wrote in his private notes, “Why not end 

nuclear propulsion now?”30 Low confided in others that NASA should focus on 

chemical rockets and a liquid hydrogen tug to fit inside the Space Shuttle. Fletcher 

and Low told only a few insiders of their plan to end NASA’s nuclear initiative. This 

“secret execution” would not be made public until January 5,

 and the secret was well 

kept. 

One month later, in October 1972, Plum Brook reactor chief H. Brock Barkley 

held a division meeting and complimented everyone on the job they were doing. 

He told them that NASA was pleased with the online efficiencies of the reactor, 

and as a vote of confidence NASA purchased an additional 24 months of fuel elements to keep the reactor research going.31 It looked as if the Plum Brook future was 

secure; however, there were a few people who sensed that something unpleasant was 

about to happen. Barkley realized during the summer of 1972 that NASA was going 

to have difficulty finding the funds to support the space nuclear power program 

after the Apollo missions were over. He said, “Like many things in this country, we 

started with great expectations and then we lost interest after a period of time.”32 But 

with two years of new fuel purchased he never imagined that the end would come 

so quickly. Unaware of the pending announcement, Barkley left Plum Brook for a 

job in the nuclear power industry in December 1972. 

On 26 December, the day after Christmas, Lundin received a memo from NASA 

headquarters that revealed to him for the first time the secret plan to end the nuclear 

rocket program. The surviving handwritten memo is unsigned, but it is likely to 

have been from either Fletcher or Low. The subject heading was “Termination of 

Space Nuclear Power and Propulsion Programs,” and it listed a series of programs 

28 “NASA Chief Named,” Washington Post (28 February 1971): 2

29 “NASA Under Dr. Fletcher,” New York Times (21 May 1971): 38.

30 Fletcher handwritten notes, nuclear rocket meeting, 15 September 1972, in James Dewar, To the 

End of the Solar System: The Story of the Nuclear Rocket (Lexington, KY: University of Kentucky Press, 

2004), p. 201.

31 Interview with Dean Sheibley by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

32 Interview with H. Brock Barkley by Mark D. Bowles, 21 September 2002.

it will be the country that advances in science that will have the greatest impact on 

the emotions and intelligence of men...”25

Silverstein supported these ideas in a meeting of laboratory directors to discuss 

the future of the NACA. Lundin’s memo, transformed by Silverstein into the “Lewis 

Laboratory Opinion of a Future Policy,” contributed to the formulation of NACA’s 

plan for the new agency. It was later called the “Dryden Plan.”26 In it Lewis was 

given the mission for research on launch vehicles, including nuclear propulsion. In 

1958 Lundin became the assistant director at Lewis and led the center’s efforts in 

space propulsion and power generation. In 1969 he became the director of Lewis 

and held that position until 1977. 

While Lewis, like the rest of NASA, suffered from the Nixon budget cuts, it was 

also hurt because it was unable to secure a significant role in the Space Shuttle development project. Ironically, many of the Lewis-based programs in the 1960s helped 

to establish the technological feasibility of the Shuttle’s main engine. Furthermore, 

the Shuttle used liquid hydrogen for propulsion. This was a fuel that remained dangerous, yet by this time it was considered to have been “tamed” through the Lewisled experiences with the Centaur upper-stage rocket.27 The reasons behind Lewis’s 

initial exclusion from the Shuttle project are still a matter of debate. But one of the 

contributing factors was Lundin himself, who allegedly opposed the development of 

the Shuttle because of technical problems that he saw with it. As a result, Lundin’s 

relationship with NASA headquarters became strained. Lundin became more and 

more bitter each time he was forced by headquarters to cut jobs. And he often 

blamed the Shuttle decision by NASA for forcing him to eliminate his programs 

and people. Almost 15 years to the day after Lundin wrote his influential memo to 

Silverstein advocating nuclear propulsion, headquarters gave him the order to suspend operations on NASA’s nuclear program—the Plum Brook reactor.

Going to the Reactor Funeral

In the wake of Nixon’s reduced budget demands new NASA administrator James 

C. Fletcher and his deputy, George Low, were faced with the task of restructuring 

25 Bruce Lundin to Abe Silverstein, 9 December 1957, NARA Records, 221/115.1-71, in Dawson, 

Engines and Innovation, p. 170. 

26 Dawson, Engines and Innovation, p. 160.

27 Virginia Dawson and Mark D. Bowles, Taming Liquid Hydrogen (Washington, DC: NASA 

Special Publication-4230, 2004).
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calling a meeting with all the employees at Plum Brook to tell them that the entire 

station was going to be shut down. Davis was stunned. But Lundin also told him 

that in fact he was to become the reactor chief, and that he was to be in charge of 

mothballing the reactor and putting it in a standby condition. Davis recalled, “It 

was deflating.” Especially difficult was the fact that Lundin forbade Davis to tell 

anyone about the closing until he made the announcement. Davis said, “He didn’t 

exactly say I would get fired but the implication was there. I knew something that 

nobody else knew. I felt very disloyal.”34

On 5 January 1973 the terminations began. The AEC announced staff cutbacks 

and a $12 million reduction in nuclear space propulsion work in Nevada and New 

Mexico.35 NERVA was also simultaneously canceled, and neither the Space Nuclear 

Propulsion Office nor anyone at Los Alamos was prepared for the announcement, 

because they had believed NASA had made a budgetary commitment to their programs. Historian James Dewar wrote, “NASA broke its word and betrayed its trust, 

despicable sins in Washington.”36 Newsweek reported one White House official as 

saying, “There is blood all over the carpet. Everything’s under the knife. Everybody’s 

mad.”37 At the exact same moment that NERVA was terminated, coordinated to the 

hour, the Plum Brook staff gathered in their auditorium. They assembled believing 

they would hear congratulatory praise by Lewis center director Bruce Lundin. Earl 

Boitel of the reactor’s experimental equipment section sat in the audience and, when 

he saw Bruce Lundin walking down the center aisle to the podium, he looked at the 

expression on his face. From that expression, Boitel recalled, “We all knew this was 

not good news.”38

Lundin took the podium and did not immediately tell his audience the worst 

of his news. He began his presentation instead by discussing national issues.39 He 

told them about President Nixon’s plans to cut the federal budget and impose no 

new taxes on the American people. The president also wanted to reduce the federal 

bureaucracy but at the same time keep a strong defense department to continue the 

costly war in Vietnam. Though at that time Nixon had not made clear what federal 

34 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.

35 “NASA and AEC Begin Staff Cutbacks,” Washington Post (6 January 1973): A3.

36 James Dewar, To the End of the Solar System: The Story of the Nuclear Rocket (Lexington, KY: 

University of Kentucky Press, 2004), pp. 202–203.

37 “The Big Budget Battle,” Newsweek (15 January 1973): 55.

38 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002

39 The material and quotes from this section comes from the audiotape of Bruce Lundin’s shutdown 

speech, 5 January 1973, Glenn Research Center archives. 

that were to be cut immediately because of “budgetary and programmatic decisions.” These included thermionic reactor power technology, nuclear power reactor 

technology, zirconium hydride reactor power systems technology, thermoelectric 

power conversion technology for reactor heat sources, energy conversion and transport research, and advanced nuclear propulsion research. The memo gave Lundin 

the following order: “You are hereby requested to take all appropriate actions and to 

notify affected contractors to terminate all research and technology activities . . . as 

soon as possible after January 5, 1973.”33

Lundin decided not to share this memo with anyone until after the holiday 

season. He took his first action on 2 January 1973 and invited A. Bert Davis to 

Lewis Research Center for a private meeting. Davis had been Barkley’s assistant, and 

he believed that the reason Lundin wanted to talk to him was to promote him to 

chief of the reactor facility. Instead, Lundin told him that in a few days he would be 

33 Memo to Bruce Lundin, 26 December 1972, Glenn Research Center unprocessed archives.

Memo to Bruce Lundin from NASA Headquarters to terminate Space Nuclear Power and Propulsion 

programs. (NASA-Glenn Archives)
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the Shuttle, and he took this opportunity to place the blame for these cuts on the 

shoulders of those who supported a Shuttle-dominated vision of NASA’s future. 

Plum Brook was created to support a space program that had as its goal exploration 

in space through the use of nuclear rockets. The goal of the Shuttle was to remain in 

low Earth orbit. Plum Brook’s facilities would be of little use in this endeavor, and as 

a result it became expendable. Lundin said, “I can understand this and can therefore 

accept the rationale for this decision. It’s one I don’t agree with. I don’t think that it’s 

exactly right to do it just this way, but I can understand it and accept it and that’s 

what all of us have to do now.”

In conclusion, Lundin admitted that he told everyone all that he knew and even 

confessed that he shared probably a bit more of his feelings than he should have. 

Before he left the stage he addressed the emotions that he was certain his audience 

was trying to come to terms with. He said, “What happened to me a week or few 

days ago is the same thing that’s happening to you now. You suffer a shock that you 

can’t quite believe it, a feeling of pain and anguish, of course, and you lick your 

Bill Fecych shutting down the reactor for the final time on 5 January 1973 as Dale McCutheon, Dan 

Gerdner, George Gowan, and others look on. (NASA C-2003-847)

programs he was going to cut, Lundin speculated in his speech that many of Lyndon 

Johnson’s Great Society programs would be eliminated. 

Lundin then turned from the national political issues to the NASA agency as a 

whole. He told his increasingly anxious audience that NASA administrator James 

Fletcher believed that he had an agreement with the Nixon administration about 

a “level budget concept” that would keep NASA funding intact at about $3 billion per year. That agreement was now gone, though several projects retained their 

funding. These projects included the Space Shuttle, docking with the Russians in 

orbit, the Viking Mars landers, and Skylab. The Titan-Centaur shroud development 

was to continue, and Lundin called it the “most important piece of development 

and testing” that the Lewis center was engaged in. Other programs were to be cut, 

including Pioneer, the HEAO large astronomical observation satellite, and some 

other planned communication satellites. 

At this point Lundin changed the focus of his talk to Lewis Research Center. He 

then dropped his first bombshell. Lundin said that in order to fit within the new 

budgetary requirements, the center was going to suspend all research, or anything 

that “cannot be expected to have a needed or useful application . . . within this 

decade.” Short-range projects with operational dates of less than five years were 

given priority. This meant that all nuclear power and nuclear propulsion work at 

Lewis was to be terminated. It was at this point that the Plum Brook audience knew 

that their own jobs were now in jeopardy. After a brief pause Lundin confirmed 

their worst fears. He said, “This means, of course, that the reactor here at Plum 

Brook will be closed down during the remainder of this current fiscal year.” Furthermore, he said that though the reactor would be closed first, the remainder of 

Plum Brook would be shut down in 1974. A murmur of stunned disbelief echoed 

through the audience. 

Lundin tried to lighten the mood by saying that he hoped that these closures 

would not be permanent. All of the facilities were to be placed in a standby or 

“mothball” condition, and they were not to be abandoned or sold off as surplus. He 

reassured them that many of the facilities and the people involved in running them 

would be offered their jobs back when the space program needed them again. But 

for the short term a reduction in force, or RIF, was unavoidable. He said that by 

30 June 1973, 400 people had to be let go. Half of these people were to come from 

Lewis and the other half from Plum Brook. 

Lundin then stepped back for a moment from the official announcement and 

took time to offer what he called his own “philosophical views” on why this happened. It is uncertain whether or not this part of the speech was scripted in advance; 

he seemed to speak extemporaneously and very candidly about his criticisms of 

NASA policy. In his opinion the Space Shuttle and those who supported it were the 

reason for Plum Brook’s impending closure. Lundin had never been a supporter of 
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reactor office complex and drew a picture on a blackboard of a sinking ship with the 

name SS Plum Brook and the letters R.I.P . above it.48 Bill Fecych isolated himself in 

an office and wrote a poem in memory of the reactor, left it on a table, and walked 

away. Robert Didelot found the note and to this day recalled one of the lines: “Old 

reactors never die, they just decay away.”49

Pursuing Environmental Uses

While the various shutdown procedures continued, some looked optimistically 

toward the future. They hoped that they could preserve the reactor in the short term 

and reactivate it at a future date when research could again be funded. Don Young 

said that while everyone was looking for new jobs, many considered them to be only 

48 Interview with Dean Sheibley by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

49 Interview with Robert Didelot by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

Employees expressed their dissatisfaction with drawings like this on blackboards. This one remained 

untouched for over 25 years. (NASA C-2001-01166)

wounds for a day or two. Then you decide that’s not very constructive so where do 

we go from here?” The answer was for the reactor employees to return to work and 

shut it down before the day was over. 

A few hours after Bruce Lundin’s announcement most of the reactor employees 

gathered together in the control room and watched Don Rhodes and Bill Fecych 

shut the reactor down for the last time. They were in the middle of a 14-day experimental cycle, but suddenly neither the data nor the experiments mattered any longer. 

There were 35 active research experiments ongoing, and another 7 university grant 

studies under way.40 Robert Didelot retrieved his Polaroid camera, and as soon as 

the control rods were locked for the last time he took a picture of all the employees 

huddled together. The next day major newspapers across the country carried the 

dire news about NASA significantly reducing its budget and the shutdown of the 

Plum Brook reactor.41 Though eventually 600 civil servant jobs were cut from Lewis 

Research Center and Plum Brook, these employees had to devote their attention 

not only to looking for new jobs, but to the huge task of mothballing a nuclear 

reactor.

The response from the employees at the reactor was immediate and intense. 

Recent interviews conducted with some of the men who were in the audience for 

the Lundin shutdown speech demonstrate that little of the pain of that day has 

lessened with time. Robert DeFayette recalled, “It just came down like a ton of 

bricks.”42 Jim Greer said, “The speech was dismal for me.”43 Len Homyak called 

it a “Sad, sad situation. There were a lot of sad eyes.”44 Dean Sheibley said it was a 

“shock. . . . There were a lot of stunned people that day.”45 William Stokes lamented, 

“It was almost like going to the reactor funeral.”46 Earl Boitel said, “It was a very 

traumatic experience . . . a lot of tears in people’s eyes.”47 Loren Ball returned to the 

40 Edward A. Richley (Chief, Office of Operations Analysis and Planning), “Summary Status Report: 

Phase Out of Nuclear Program,” 19 January 1973, Box 105, Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives. 

41 Harold M. Schmeck, Jr., “NASA Cuts Programs to Save $200-Million in Current Budget,” New 

York Times (6 January 1973): 11; “NASA Spending Cut $200 Million for Fiscal 1973,” Wall Street 

Journal (8 January 1973): 8.

42 Interview with Robert DeFayette by Mark D. Bowles, 29 January 2002.

43 Interview with Jim Greer by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

44 Interview with Len Homyak by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

45 Interview with Dean Sheibley by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

46 Interview with William Stokes by Mark D. Bowles, 23 January 2002.

47 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.
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Agency (EPA) to “use the reactor for a different purpose than it was originally 

designed.”55 Low had his associates contact the director of Plum Brook to ask questions, such as the cost of using the reactor’s environmental projects, should a sponsor not immediately become available.56 He wrote back to Mosher to tell him that 

James Fletcher planned to discuss the situation with the head of the EPA. The 

EPA had already been sponsoring experiments at Plum Brook, and Low said that 

Fletcher was going to suggest that the “EPA might want to take over the operation 

of the reactor.”57

Bruce Lundin was also sympathetic to the effort to keep Plum Brook alive. To 

assist in this fight, he appointed John V. Dugan to the full-time job of finding 

future uses for the facility. Lundin told him to “focus his immediate attention on 

the Reactor Facility” because it was scheduled to enter standby condition on 30 

June.58 Dugan quickly began contacting government officials and nuclear researchers in the university community. He hoped that he would find support at the EPA 

or from another sponsor that could commit to enough funded research to keep its 

doors open. 

Mosher continued his efforts by soliciting help from Guy Stever, the director of 

the National Science Foundation. He explained to Stever, who was also Nixon’s new 

science advisor, the importance of Plum Brook, calling it a “major national scientific 

resource” that housed unique research facilities that were duplicated nowhere else 

in the world. He also argued that it was a “horrible waste” to close Plum Brook, 

not only because of its scientific significance, but also because the government had 

invested approximately $120 million to create the facility. Mosher hoped Stever 

would become an important ally in helping to solve what he called the “Plum Brook 

problem.”59

Coordinating with Mosher’s political effort to save Plum Brook was an effort 

by reactor engineers. Dean Sheibley, Plum Brook’s radiochemistry section head, 

and others tried to find sponsors to fund the continuation of its important envi55 George M. Low’s testimony before the House Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight, 6 March 

1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives.

56 Alan D. Johnson to Kurt Strauss, in answer to George Low’s questions, 19 April 1973, Box 105, 

Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives. 

57 George M. Low to Charles A. Mosher, 19 March 1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook 

Archives.

58 Bruce Lundin to Roy P. Jackson (associate administrator for office of aeronautics and space 

technology), 11 May 1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives.

59 Charles A. Mosher to Guy Stever, 21 March 1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives.

temporary, and when the reactor was opened again they would return and begin 

working on new experiments.50 Specifically, the employees held out hope that the 

reactor would be an essential tool when (or if) the nation revived the human Mars 

mission. But the most likely chances for its survival rested with its work to support 

environmental research, which it had been pursuing for several years.

Republican Congressman Charles A. Mosher headed an effort to find future 

uses for the facility in the early months after the termination announcement, from 

February through April 1973. Mosher had been a representative of the Sandusky 

community since 1960 and served as the ranking minority member of the Science and Astronautics Committee of the U.S. House of Representatives. He knew 

that Plum Brook was vitally important to his constituents and the nation.51 He 

wrote letters to NASA leaders James C. Fletcher (NASA administrator), George M. 

Low (NASA deputy administrator), and Bruce Lundin (director of NASA’s Lewis 

Research Center) to discuss an idea of using the reactor specifically for environmental analyses with its neutron activation.52 Mosher said that focusing Plum Brook 

specifically on this type of research would enable it to operate at a power (less than 

ten megawatts) and within a budget lower than was needed to perform space-related 

experiments. 

The previous chapter discussed the details of neutron activation analysis, the 

process by which engineers bombarded samples with neutrons to identify their trace 

elements for air pollution, water pollution, and other environmental studies.53 Hap 

Johnson, Plum Brook’s director, said that for Plum Brook to successfully market 

itself for this type of research, it had to compete against other reactors with this 

capability (i.e., Oak Ridge National Laboratory and Battelle Memorial Institute). In 

Johnson’s opinion the neutron activation analysis at Plum Brook was “far superior 

to work being done by others.”54 Johnson worked closely with Mosher, who became 

NASA’s political voice advocating its survival. 

George Low seemed intrigued by the idea. He called the Plum Brook reactor 

a “valuable national asset” and strove to convince the Environmental Protection 

50 Interview with Don Young by Mark D. Bowles, 27 September 2002.

51 Harry J. Lorber, “Mosher Says He Won’t Run Again,” Sandusky Register (12 December 1975).

52 Charles A. Mosher to George M. Low, 6 February 1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook 

Archives.

53 Michael Woods, “Outside Use of Plum Brook Facility NASA Alternative to Standby Status,” 

Toledo Blade (29 April 1973).

54 Memo from Hap Johnson, Operation of Plum Brook Reactor at Reduced Power for Neutron 

Activation Analysis, 23 February 1973, Box 105, Folder 2, Plum Brook Archives.
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university consortium and research center. Another plan was to convert the reactor 

into a power facility, but both the AEC and NASA said that was impossible. A third 

proposal called for using the reactor at a lower power (six megawatts) for continued 

neutron activation analysis testing for the EPA. This would incur only about onetenth the cost ($.5 million per year) to operate the facility.64 James Blue of the NASA 

Lewis Research Center’s cyclotron facility proposed a final use of the reactor. At the 

time Blue was working with the Cleveland Clinic, treating cancer patients with neutrons from the cyclotron. With a 10-year grant from the National Cancer Institute 

he helped treat over 4,000 patients at Lewis. He suggested converting Quadrant B 

at Plum Brook into a medical facility where epithermal neutrons could be used to 

treat patients who had brain tumors, referred to as glioblastomas.65

Any decision for future use had to be made before the reactor was finally shut 

down in June 1973, but none of the proposals met with success. Universities could 

not come up with a nongovernment use that was cost effective. Though all of the 

scientists who toured the facility were in awe of the impressive array of instruments, 

they knew that it was too big for any of them to actually take over. After the symposium ended one scientist addressed the media as he was preparing to leave in his 

car. He said, “It’s like offering a science fiction fan the opportunity to participate in 

a space flight. . . . Here’s all that equipment. I’d like to have access to some of it—all 

of it. But I don’t know how I’d be able to put it to good use.” 66

Fletcher had no luck in trying to talk the EPA into supporting Plum Brook. 

Lundin said that no individual user or joint cooperative effort seemed feasible, even 

after the work by the symposium to stimulate interest.67 Sheibley recalled that his 

efforts failed because of “the political pressures of NASA competing with other 

for-profit facilities.”68 Despite the best efforts of local politicians, NASA leaders, 

and Plum Brook’s engineers, the reactor received no second lease on life. Fletcher 

explained that the reason Plum Brook could not be saved was because it did not fit 

into the government’s new budgetary policy of supporting initiatives with shortterm scientific returns. He agreed that even though the Plum Brook reactor had 

assembled a “first rate team,” it was necessary to suspend its experimental program 

because of this new short-term “philosophy.” Fletcher said, “We decided that pro64 “NASA and Plum Brook Footage, 1961–1973,” John Carroll University Media Archives.

65 Interview with Jim Blue, conducted by Mark Bowles, 11 February 2002.

66 John Hammack, “Plum Brook’s Future: Private Use or Disuse? Everyone’s Interested, But...” 

Sandusky Register, undated, Box 105, Folder 1, Plum Brook Archives.

67 Bruce Lundin to Roy P. Jackson, 11 May 1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives. 

68 Dean Sheibley, email to author, 4 May 2005.

ronmental studies. They developed a comprehensive plan to determine how many 

neutron activation radiations Plum Brook would have to perform each year to pay 

for its operating costs. They began with an annual operating budget of what they 

estimated to be $520,500. This included 26 employees, contractor services, a health 

physics program, radioactive fuel, etc. Since Plum Brook performed neutron activation analyses at $150 per sample, they calculated they would need to perform 3,470 

tests per year to break even. Through a preliminary “market survey” they contacted 

some previous and potential sponsors to find out what level of commitment they 

could give to Plum Brook for this type of testing. They discovered that the EPA 

could commit to 375 tests per year ($56,000), and Lewis Research Center’s Environmental Research Office wanted 600 tests per year (at a reduced rate of $100 

per sample for a total of $60,000). Plum Brook considered these “firm customers.” 

A list of potential customers included the Ohio Criminal Bureau of Investigation, 

John Carroll University, the Air Force Institute of Technology, and Cleveland State 

University. These customers would result in an approximate income of $155,000 

per year, for a total of $271,000 when matched with the firm sponsors. These funds 

were enough to cover over half of Plum Brook’s yearly operating costs and were the 

result of a very limited marketing effort. With a concerted marketing campaign the 

Plum Brook engineers felt confident that their environmental initiative would be a 

success.60

 In April 1973 a symposium of over 80 scientists, educators, Ohio politicians, 

and economists was held to explore other future uses of the station.61 Bruce Lundin 

sent out personal invitations, hoping to attract an influential audience interested 

in the survival of the reactor.62 The local press called it the best-educated group 

ever assembled at Plum Brook, with more than half holding doctorates in fields 

such as nuclear physics, chemistry, chemical engineering, and electrical engineering. Attendees came from universities, NASA, the Atomic Energy Commission, 

the National Science Foundation, the Department of Defense, Argonne National 

Laboratory, and the EPA.63

Proposals presented at the symposium included an industrial park and a 17-

60 “Operation of Plum Brook Reactor at Reduced Power for Neutron Activation Analysis,” 19 

March 1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives.

61 “Symposium Explores Future Plum Brook Station Usage,” News Herald (26 April 1973).

62 Bruce Lundin, Future Use Symposium invitation, 10 April 1973, Box 105, Folder 1, Plum 

Brook Archives.

63 “Preliminary Attendee List for the Symposium on Possible Uses of the Plum Brook Station,” Box 

105, Folder 1, Plum Brook Archives.
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NASA Lewis News articles explaining the end of the nuclear propulsion programs and employee cutbacks. 

(Lewis News, Vol. 10, No. 1)

grams that were pretty far out in the future [late 1980s] . . . were the ones we had 

to defer.”69

To Mosher this problem was bigger than just Plum Brook itself. He felt that it 

was representative of the nation’s inability to provide long-term commitment and 

support to scientific endeavors. Mosher argued to any other politician that would 

listen to him that “this ‘go and stop’ policy for major institutions such as Plum 

Brook is terribly costly and wasteful.”70 He said that there were many important 

uses for Plum Brook, but none of these would be realized because of economic 

reasons.71 Mosher considered this to be a “among the major mistakes we make in 

government.” He believed that without a strong commitment from government, 

large-scale science would be doomed to failure. He said, “Persistence is imperative 

to the productive search for new knowledge.”72 If Plum Brook failed in its mission, 

it was because it did not have the persistent support from the government that created it. When Plum Brook did not find outside sponsorship, it became clear that its 

closure was going to be permanent, and the outplacement activities took on greater 

significance. 

Reactor Operators for Hire

Outside the door leading into NASA’s outplacement center for displaced reactor 

employees, a local TV news crew interviewed one of the engineers who was about 

to go inside. The first question was about the reaction among the employees. The 

reactor engineer said, “From what I have been able to see, there is a lot of bitterness.” While he could understand the reasons for the budgetary cutbacks, he identified what he believed was one crucial mistake that the Nixon administration was 

making. He said, “There is a mistake in cutting back the research that produces new 

technologies for our country . . . this is the only thing that we have to sell to the rest 

of the world. If we do not continue to produce new technologies, what are we going 

69 James C. Fletcher’s testimony for the House Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight, 6 March 

1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives.

70 Charles A. Mosher to Norman P. Phillips (president Sandusky Area Chamber of Commerce), 22 

March 1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives.

71 “Plum Brook Facility Loses 50 More Jobs,” Sandusky Register (26 November 1974).

72 Charles A. Mosher to Donald J. Pease, 3 February 1978, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook 

Archives.
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Reorganization Act. The Act placed the AEC’s research and development functions 

under the Energy Research Development Administration and its licensing functions 

under the newly formed Nuclear Regulatory Commission.

Each month the journal Nuclear News published a list of reactor jobs available in 

the industry. It also published a list of unemployed nuclear professionals who were 

seeking employment. The journal was about to become flooded with resumes. On 

30 June 1973 (the last day before NASA terminated the Plum Brook employees) 

2,720 individuals from other nuclear institutions throughout the United States also 

lost their jobs. These included 700 at Oak Ridge National Laboratory, 700 at Sandia 

Laboratory, 275 at Lawrence Livermore Laboratory, 250 at Argonne National Laboratory, 225 at Brookhaven National Laboratory, 210 at Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory, 140 at the Stanford Linear Accelerator Center, 120 at Atomics International, 

and 100 at Hanford Engineering Development Laboratory.78 This was the reality of 

the job market that Plum Brook employees faced as they began looking for future 

employment in a nuclear industry that was being cut back virtually everywhere. 

The hunt for a new job was different for each employee. Some sent out a few 

resumes, while others contacted over 100 organizations looking for employment.79

The NASA Outplacement Service Center assisted with the transition.80 It provided 

special training sessions to teach employees the most effective ways to write resumes 

and give them tips for how to present themselves at interviews. NASA modeled one 

event after a college job fair and brought in various nuclear industry representatives 

to interview large groups of people to determine if any of them might be candidates 

for a job at their organization. 

Starr Truscott, Plum Brook administrator, became a central point of contact 

between the former reactor employees and other nuclear facilities. Although NASA 

liked to say that all of the former employees found work, this was not the case. 

Truscott said, “There was a story that went out for a while, which was . . . not 

true, that everybody found a position. There were people here that did not find a 

position. It tears people and it tears families apart; it’s just a terrible thing. Terrible 

thing.”81 Some had more financial incentive than others to find new work. Robert 

Defayette had just bought a new farm in Milan and had still not sold his old home 

in Sandusky. When he first learned the reactor was closing, he had a wife and five 

78 “Staff Reductions,” Nuclear News (March 1973): 18.

79 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

80 Edward A. Richley (Chief, Office of Operations Analysis and Planning), “Summary Status Report: 

Phase Out of Nuclear Program,” 19 January 1973, Box 105, Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives. 

81 Interview with Starr Truscott by Virginia P. Dawson and Jim Polaczynski, 22 August 2001.

to produce ten years from now?”73 He believed the nation was losing its commitment to science and its technological future. With that, the former reactor employee 

turned from the cameras and began to look for a new job.

Bruce Lundin made a promise to everyone during his shutdown announcement. 

He said, “We’re going to be completely dedicated to finding every one of you that 

wants a job, a good job someplace.” He said that he would begin this process by 

contacting NASA administrator Thomas Paine, Harry Finger, and other friends of 

his at nuclear agencies to tell them that there was a large group of individuals with 

nuclear experience that were looking for employment. To assist this process, NASA 

established an outplacement service in Cleveland. Lundin felt confident enough to 

say that “There will be interest in a lot of places of making use of your skills and 

experience.”74 Six days after the shutdown speech he sent out a memo to employees, 

letting them know that he already had several interested organizations asking him 

about the people out of work.75 But not everyone would find employment. Lundin 

said that while these were “some of the very best people in their fields in the country,” the harsh reality was that “we simply do not have the positions available” for 

all of them.76

Finding jobs for nuclear engineers was especially difficult in the early 1970s 

because Plum Brook was not the only nuclear facility that was in the process of 

shutting down. Many other reactors and nuclear programs were also forced to close 

nationwide. The NERVA program had been terminated the same day as the Plum 

Brook reactor. The Space Nuclear Propulsion Office would close in June 1973. The 

Brookhaven Graphite Research Reactor closed in 1969, the Materials Test Reactor 

in 1970, and a Los Alamos reactor shut down in 1974. Fears swept throughout 

NASA that other high-profile programs would be cut.77 The AEC’s influence was 

also in decline. After a 1971 Supreme Court ruling regarding the AEC’s licensing 

procedures, the commission was forced to streamline its organization and operations. Critics claimed that it was improper for the agency to regulate the very same 

reactors that it managed. The AEC, which was founded in August 1946, officially 

suspended operations in October 1974 when President Ford signed the Energy 

73 Interview of unknown former reactor employee, “NASA and Plum Brook Footage, 1961–1973,” 

video clip from John Carroll University Media Archives.

74 Bruce Lundin shutdown speech, 5 January 1973, Glenn Research Center Archives.

75 Bruce Lundin to employees, 11 January 1973, Box 105, Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives.

76 Bruce Lundin quoted in “NASA Creates Office to Aid Lost Workers,” The Cleveland Press (19 

January 1973), C2, Box 105, Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives.

77 “Life on a Far-Off Moon?” Time (22 January 1973): 76.
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son, former Plum Brook reactor manager, said that “The idea of somebody mothballing a reactor is stupid.”86 Once a reactor was shut down its life was essentially 

over. The goal to begin operating an old reactor would have been nearly impossible 

to achieve because it would have to pass increasingly stringent nuclear regulations. 

By that point it would have been more cost effective and safer to just build a new 

reactor. 

Nevertheless, the mothball and standby orders remained in place. A. Bert Davis 

took over as reactor chief and was responsible for negotiating the new standby 

license with the AEC. NASA told Davis to leave the reactor in a condition in which 

it was capable of being restarted, despite the fact that most everyone involved knew 

it never would be returned to operation. Davis was responsible for informing the 

AEC director that “NASA management has decided to place the Plum Brook Reactor in a standby condition.”87 This counterintuitive demand was something that 

Davis strongly objected to. Like Johnson, he was aware of the near impossibility of 

starting up a reactor again. Davis also knew no reactor had ever been mothballed 

before. He said, “It was the first time I knew of when somebody was really taking an 

operating test reactor and putting it into a standby condition.”88 While a potential 

restart contributed to the care taken during the initial shutdown, it was not the only 

reason the engineers took precautions. Earl Boitel said that he was concerned first 

and foremost with the legacy of the reactor. If things were not shut down properly 

and if the environment or community were endangered, then that legacy would be 

forever tarnished.89

Everyone knew much work had to be done and that emotions had to be put 

aside. The reactor staff was given six months to shut down their facility. This would 

include removing the fuel, eliminating the waste, configuring all of the equipment 

to sit idle, writing procedures to monitor the reactor, and planning for routine 

inspections of the facility. This was a very tight schedule, and the employees knew 

that they would have to work as diligently to shut down the reactor as they had in 

preparing to take it critical for the first time. They also battled a morale issue. When 

they were taking the reactor critical in 1961 there was the added excitement that 

they were building a new and powerful scientific instrument. Now that same energy 

had to be directed toward a much less inspiring goal—closing the reactor. Further86 Interview with Alan “Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002.

87 Bert Davis to John F. O’Leary (director AEC), 22 January 1973, Box 10, Folder 18, Plum Brook 

Archives.

88 Interview with A. Bert Davis by Mark D. Bowles, 27 February 2002.

89 Interview with Earl Boitel by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

children; he had two mortgages, and it would be only six months before he would 

no longer have a paycheck.82 Some who could not find work in the nuclear industry 

eventually gave up. For example, one of the reactor engineers took over as manager 

of a small grocery store in Huron, Ohio.83

Of the 200 or so Plum Brook reactor employees, the vast majority left NASA. 

About 20 were sent to Lewis Research Center. Some found jobs with organizations 

like the Atomic Energy Commission (which then became the Nuclear Regulatory 

Commission) or Los Alamos. Most believed that the effort NASA invested in relocating them was commendable. Jim Greer found work at the nearby Davis-Bessie 

Nuclear Power Plant. He said that NASA “helped me tremendously get my position. NASA just didn’t shut the key off and say bye, bye boys. They tried to take care 

of us. Very much so.”84

Suspending Momentum by Mothballing

Halting nuclear momentum is not an easy process. Resisting the modern tendency to simply tear down buildings when they are no longer needed, the nuclear 

reactor stands as an anomaly. Reactors cannot simply be abandoned. They require 

careful preservation to ensure that none of their still radioactive components contaminate the water supply or escape into the surrounding air. Once the nuclear 

momentum began, NASA soon discovered the significant investment required to 

bring it to a complete stop. The only way to destroy a reactor is through a costly 

and difficult decommissioning process. NASA delayed this process for 25 years by 

instead opting for a “possess but do not operate” strategy. This meant “mothballing” 

the reactor or sealing it up in such a way that it could one day be put to use again. 

NASA called this a “standby condition,” which it defined as “that condition from 

which any major facility of the station may be returned to full capacity operation 

with a reasonable effort and in a reasonable time without a major expenditure of 

resources for repair or rehabilitation.”85

Though this plan gave some reactor employees hope that the reactor would once 

again need their services, others roundly criticized the decision. Alan “Hap” John82 Interview with Robert Defayette by Virginia Dawson, 21 September 2002.

83 Interview with Starr Truscott by Virginia Dawson, 21 September 2002.

84 Interview with Jim Greer by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

85 Letter from Roy P. Jackson (Associate Administrator for Aeronautics and Space Technology) to 

Bruce Lundin and George Low, 5 February 1973, Box 105, Folder 10, Plum Brook Archives.
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free.94 He loaded up his truck several times. Though Defayette never had authorization to donate the equipment, he thought that since the government had spent 

taxpayer money on it, the materials should go to an educational organization. However, much of the equipment could not be salvaged, and it remained locked inside 

the reactor. The official order was still to possess the building but not operate it. 

Even though everyone believed the facility would never become operational again, 

all of the basic technological systems were left in place. 

Despite the uncertainty about the future, there were still moments of levity. Don 

Young recalled one day when he was in his hip boots with double protective clothing and an air respirator, mucking through the radioactive sludge at the bottom of 

one of the hot retention tanks. He was trying to squeegee the sludge into one of the 

pumps when he looked up to the top of the tank and saw his health safety supervisor leaning over the railing. All of a sudden a large wad of money fell out of his shirt 

pocket and landed in the middle of the radioactive waste. Young walked over to the 

money, picked it up, and climbed up the ladder to give it to him. Of course it was 

highly contaminated by that time, and as Young recalled, his boss “spent the rest of 

the day laundering his money.”95 To clean the contamination off of it, he washed it 

with soap and water and a decontamination solution.

During spring 1973 the reactor area was fenced off and locked, and emergency 

telephone, water, and electrical systems were retained. A. Bert Davis remained in 

close contact with the AEC to ensure that the process was performed safely.96 The 

nuclear fuel and wastes were removed, and the still-radioactive equipment was 

placed into the hot laboratories, containment vessel, and canals. The rest of the 

facility was decontaminated and became subject to licensing. The “possess but do 

not operate” license required annual renewals, quarterly radiological testing, and 

regular inspections of alarms and security tools. It also required a manned communication center, an administrative staff, and the continuation of regular records and 

reports—enough to keep a skeleton crew at work.

In June, right before the mothballing was completed, Plum Brook set up a reactor standby office staffed by two people.97 Robert Didelot took over as first reactor 

manager, and Tom Junod oversaw all of the safety requirements. Teledyne won a 

contract to ensure that the reactor was preserved safely. It prepared surveys and 

94 Interview with Robert Defayette by Virginia Dawson, 21 September 2002.

95 Interview with Don Young by Mark D. Bowles, 18 July 2002.

96 Bert Davis to A. Burger (AEC), 11 May 1973, summary of teleconference, Box 10, Folder 18, 

Plum Brook Archives.

97 Interview with Robert Didelot by Mark D. Bowles, 22 January 2002.

more, this all had to take place while the employees were looking for new jobs. 

Reactor officials held extensive meetings to establish all of the necessary procedures required to mothball the reactor. Then they set up additional procedures 

to define how to maintain the facility in this condition and make certain that no 

radioactive contamination would leak out into the community. Teams were set up 

to accomplish these tasks.90 The basic facility and shutdown team was responsible 

for closing down the entire reactor system. The hot laboratory team cleaned out 

all of the cells and secured all of the manipulator arms. A fuel team oversaw shipping of the new and used fuel off site to the Savannah River reprocessing plant.91

A mock-up team was assigned to close down the research reactor. An experiments 

team ensured that the experiments were mothballed. A data team was responsible 

for sending remaining experimental results to sponsors. Finally, a safeguards team 

helped to guarantee that all of the proper health and safety precautions were taken 

for the employees engaged in the clean-up activities, as well as the surrounding 

community. 

For six months the staff worked to mothball the reactor. They not only fought 

against the deadline to finish their work; their numbers were constantly dwindling 

as people found new jobs. But the work continued. Power lines and other wires 

were cut. Offices were closed. The library was shut down. The water fountains, 

bathrooms, and washrooms were all drained. The hot laboratories were used to process and dispose of the highly contaminated waste. Most all of the pipes had to be 

severed, flanged, and sealed.92 This was difficult and dirty work that often involved 

direct contact with radiation. Many of the reactor engineers and technicians had 

already received their maximum allowable radiation exposure doses, and so they 

were not eligible to do much of the decontamination work. Volunteers were taken 

from the office staff who had not been exposed to radiation previously, and they 

worked to clean out the hot laboratories.93

There was also a large amount of equipment that could be recycled. Robert 

Defayette thought that it should be donated to the local Firelands Community 

College. So Defayette called the head of the chemistry department and invited him 

to drive his pickup truck out to the reactor. He was “like a kid in a candy shop,” 

moving from one lab to the next, identifying equipment that he could take for 

90 Interview with Robert Didelot by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

91 “Standby Procedure Completion Report,” Box 10, Folder 6, Plum Brook Archives.

92 Interview with William Stokes by Mark D. Bowles, 23 January 2002.

93 Interview with Don Young by Mark D. Bowles, 18 July 2002.
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reports for the NRC after a certain time period had elapsed or after a particularly 

damaging storm to determine if any radioactive waste was getting into the local 

water supply. Water and air samples were taken regularly, as Don Young recalled, 

to make sure we did not have any “radioactive contamination creeping out any 

place.”98

Health physicists established contamination and radiation standards and defined 

four radiation zones at the facility. This included the magenta zone (direct radiation 

levels of 100 mrad/hr), the magenta-yellow zone (direct radiation levels of 2.5 to 

100 mrad/hr), the white zone (less than 0.5 to 2.5 mrad/hr), and unrestricted zones 

(less than 0.05 mrad/hr). The white zone was for areas inside the Plum Brook fence, 

and unrestricted zones were for radiation outside the fence.99

Routine maintenance was performed for the next 25 years to ensure that the 

buildings would not crumble. The temperature inside was kept above 45°F with an 

old boiler system in the winter to ensure that the drains would not freeze up. This 

cold temperature also helped to preserve all of the equipment that still remained 

inside. The reactor standby office was responsible for the maintenance on the boiler 

and the sump pumps. An alarm system was installed in the building and hooked up 

to the Plum Brook communication center so that it could be monitored around the 

clock to prevent trespassers from entering. 

The AEC, and later the NRC, assisted NASA in setting up administrative controls. This included procedures to maintain the “safe storage” condition, internal 

audits, the hiring of a radiation safety officer, and the establishment of an executive 

safety board and a Plum Brook safety committee. A reactor manager ensured that 

the safe storage of the mothballed reactor remained as risk free as possible. A Plum 

Brook management office was to authorize all plant security, inspection, health 

physics, and maintenance functions. Annual reports were to be filed with the NRC, 

as were communications about any “reportable occurrence” that deviated from the 

norm. The NRC required a telephone call, telegraph, mailgram, or facsimile transmission no later than 24 hours after any unplanned occurrence at the reactor. NASA 

kept detailed records on the reactor, including radiological surveys and equipment 

maintenance records, and the NRC retained the authority to call for special reports 

from time to time.100

Plum Brook itself became a desolate place. Ironically, though the reactor lost 

98 Interview with Don Young by Mark D. Bowles, 27 September 2002.

99 “Plum Brook Reactor Facility End Condition Statement: Contamination and Radiation 

Standards,” Folder 6, Box 10, Plum Brook Archives.

100 “NASA Amendment to Facility License, 26 July 1985, Box 10, Folder 12, Plum Brook 

Archives.

NASA and the Energy Research Development Administration installed this large 100-kilowatt wind 

turbine for alternative energy research at Plum Brook (28 September 1976). (NASA C-1976-3906)
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244

out on the opportunity to engage in environmental research, a new environmental 

project began at Plum Brook. Because of the energy crisis the government began to 

take a close look at alternative forms of energy. Though Plum Brook lost out on its 

bid for a $35 million federal solar research institute from the Energy Research and 

Development Administration, the government did select it as a site for windmill 

research.101 The National Science Foundation provided $200,000 for construction 

at Plum Brook of a 100-kilowatt windmill, with 2 massive 62-foot propeller blades 

on a 125-foot tower. This became the second largest windmill ever constructed in 

the United States, and its total cost was $1.2 million.102 Joe Savino, who had worked 

at the Plum Brook reactor in the process systems section, headed the team to build 

the windmill. He predicted that based on its success, the country would soon see 

“hundreds of thousands of windmills generating electricity across the U.S.”103 He 

believed that this commitment would be a lasting national priority because the 

windmill could reduce national dependence upon coal and oil. Two additional 

windmills were planned for Plum Brook. According to a New York Times article, the 

engineers who worked on it constantly operated under the shadow of budget cuts 

and the potential for termination of the program.104 Their concerns were justified. 

When the energy crisis of the 1970s ended, so too did the government commitment 

to alternative forms of energy, like the Plum Brook windmill experiments. 

So how would NASA finally halt the nuclear momentum it had begun decades 

earlier? Mothballing reactors and preserving them in a “possess but do not operate 

mode” merely delayed the inevitable. NASA finally decided to allocate the funds 

for the decommissioning project in 1998, and began the final steps, after a quartercentury delay, to actually bring its nuclear momentum to a halt. 

101 “Ohio to Seek Solar Institute: NASA’s Plum Brook Facility Could be Considered as Site,” 

Sandusky Register (10 December 1975); Harry J. Lorber, “Plum Brook Being Considered as Site,” 

Sandusky Register (11 December 1975); “Plum Brook Prime Site for Research Institute,” Sandusky 

Register (11 December 1975).

102 “Plum Brook Station Research Facilities,” 10 January 1986, Box 106, Folder 1, Plum Brook 

Archives.

103 David Brand, “It’s an Ill Wind, Etc.; Energy Crisis May be Good for Windmills,” Wall Street 

Journal (11 January 1974): 1.

104 William Diem, “NASA Has Trouble with its Big Windmill,” New York Times (27 June 1976): 

89.
Restoring the Garden

In 1844 Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote an essay titled “Sleepy Hollow” while sitting in the Concord, Massachusetts, woods. As he observed the early morning light 

he described an idyllic, almost utopian scene. With his elegant prose Hawthorne 

described the glimmering sunshine breaking through forest shadows, the natural 

sounds of the birds and rustling leaves, and even the blending of manmade noises 

like the tinkle of a cow bell and farmers with their scythes. Then, in an instant, something intruded upon Hawthorne’s Eden-like morning. He wrote, “But, hark! there 

is the whistle of the locomotive—the long shriek, harsh, above all other harshness, 

for the space of a mile cannot mollify it into harmony.” The industrial machine was 

in the garden—disharmonious—and contradicting the symbiotic agrarian existence 

between man the farmer and Mother Nature. The locomotive’s whistle cut through 

that stillness, just as the railroad’s track cut through the farmers’ land, symbolizing 

the coming of industrialization to the American pasture.1

In the United States the tension between industrialism and agrarianism was most 

dramatically played out during World War II. As described in the first chapter of 

this book, in the early 1940s the government took land from farmers to support the 

needs of the coming war. Prior to World War II, some referred to the Plum Brook 

farming region as “one of the garden spots of America.”2

 Generations of farmers 

had cultivated their farms into a symbiotic relationship with the natural world surrounding them. Yet, much like the train in Hawthorne’s story, the government’s 

industrial machine invaded this Plum Brook garden and transformed these pastures—most believed, forever. During World War II the Army subjected the land to 

numerous environmental hazards associated with explosives production. A decade 

later, with much of this waste still contaminating the Earth, the government rede1

 Leo Marx, The Machine in the Garden: Technology and the Pastoral Ideal in America (Oxford: 

Oxford University Press, 1964), p. 5.

2

 Congressman Weichel, quoted in “Colorful Ceremony Marks Presentation of Honors to Plum 

Brook Employees,” Sandusky Star Journal (1 May 1943).

7

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247

reactor facility would require 6 years and $14,744,000. Again, NASA declined to 

decommission it.6

 In 1984 the government revisited these decommissioning plans. 

A seven-member Teledyne team and former reactor employees explored the problem. After 18 months of sampling, monitoring, analyzing the site, reviewing the 

drawings, and measuring the amount of radiation, the team completed its calculations down to the actual number of truckloads required to haul away all of the 

material. One year later they estimated the cost at $35 million.7

 Once again NASA 

declined to decommission, believing the costs were too prohibitive.

By the late 1990s it cost the government $1.4 million per year for its environmental monitoring and round-the-clock security just to keep the reactor in its 

mothballed status.8

 With dismantling costs increasing at an average of 6% per year, 

and radioactive waste disposal costs increasing by 27% per year, NASA decided 

that it finally had to do something about this growing problem. In 1998 the agency 

established a plan that would require a decade of work to safely dispose of Plum 

Brook’s radioactive remains. It had cost $15 million to build the reactor, and it was 

going to cost the government an estimated $150 to $160 million to tear it down.9

This was roughly the cost of a small unmanned NASA space mission (the Mars 

Climate Observer had cost $125 million), or 1% of NASA’s annual $13.7 billion 

budget.10 Eventually, the cost of decommissioning Plum Brook will be far more 

than what the government spent to construct and operate it. The efforts to mothball 

and decommission the site will last more than three times longer than the period in 

which the government actually used the reactor for active scientific research.11

6

 “Decommissioning Plan for the Plum Brook Reactor Facility,” Revision 1, March 2001, NASA 

Decommissioning Archives; “Dismantling Plan Plum Brook Reactor Dismantling,” NASA Lewis 

Research Center, Cleveland, Ohio Docket No. 50-30, 18 February 1980.

7

 Interview with Hank Pfanner by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002; Interview with Jack Ross 

by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

8

 Ulysses Torassa, “Delay by NASA Inflates Cost of Dismantling Idle Reactors,” The Plain Dealer 

(28 February 1998): 1A.

9

 Keith Peecook, email to author, 26 April 2004; Karen Schaefer, transcript of “NASA Plum 

Brook – Part 2,” aired 8 October 2002, found at http://www.wcpn.org/news/2002/10%2D12/

1008plum%2Dbrook%2D2.html.

10 John Mangels, “NASA to Dismantle Two Ohio Reactor Devices at Plum Brook,” The Plain 

Dealer (30 October 1999): 11B.

11 While these figures seem high, the cost of cleanup for the Plum Brook reactor is dwarfed by the 

legacy of the nuclear arms race. Analyst estimates of the costs of safely decontaminating nuclear bomb 

sites have varied from $200 billion to nearly $1 trillion. But there is a similarity between the smaller 

environmental issues of dealing with Plum Brook’s nuclear radioactive legacy and the larger problem 

that the United States continues to address. Stewart Udall, secretary of the interior from 1960 to 1968, 

veloped the area as a site for Plum Brook Station, which included the construction 

of a nuclear test reactor. After over a decade of reactor operation it sat for the next 

quarter-century in quiet standby. The mothballed reactor was costly and completely 

nonproductive, and it remained a potential environmental threat. When would 

NASA come to terms with its environmental responsibility? And, once it did, would 

it be able to restore the land to its agrarian heritage, in effect taking the industrial 

machine out of the garden? 

According to some observers, the agency had a long way to go to rectify its 

own environmental record. In 1991 one of its most well-known advocates spoke 

out against its past transgressions. John Glenn, former astronaut and United States 

senator from Ohio, said that the “world’s best space program,” has been responsible 

for “serious pollution problems” on Earth.3

 He targeted several NASA sites as contributing to the problem, including Lewis Research Center (now Glenn Research 

Center) and Plum Brook Station. At Lewis he said that the “lack of management 

attention . . . caused costly environmental damage.” This included mercury contamination, 42 underground leaking storage tanks at Plum Brook, and soil and 

groundwater damaged by the storage of batteries, drums, and PCB transformers in 

a landfill. NASA slowly learned its lesson. Throughout the 1990s it became more 

conscious of its environmental shortcomings and began allocating funds to correct 

these problems. One such concern was the two nuclear reactors sitting idle at Plum 

Brook. 

Since 1973 NASA had flirted with the idea of “decommissioning” or tearing 

down this facility several times. In 1977 the government asked Teledyne to recommend a future course of action regarding the reactor.4

 One option was to keep it in 

a standby condition and try to reopen it at a later date. Another option was to keep 

it mothballed until the money was available to properly decommission it. A final, 

preferred plan was to completely decommission it and remove all traces of radiation 

from the site. Though this was the favored option, NASA considered the $1,200,000 

expense too much to incorporate into its budget.5

 NASA decided to maintain the 

reactor in standby mode. But this was only postponing the inevitable. The reactor would have to be decommissioned at some point, and the costs of keeping the 

facility mothballed were rising dramatically. In 1979 yearly maintenance alone was 

$230,000. Meanwhile, a new 1979 analysis estimated that decommissioning the 

3

 John Glenn, quoted in Keith C. Epstein, The Plain Dealer (15 May 1991).

4

 Interview with Jack Ross by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

5

 John E. Ross (Teledyne Isotopes) to R. Koch, 3 September 1976, Box 106, Folder 3, Plum Brook 

Archives.
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approach is to make it as though someone . . . in the future, could farm. You could 

plant tomatoes in the soil underneath what is now the reactor, eat the tomatoes and 

have no more radiation than you would if you would have planted your tomatoes 

in any other Perkins Township garden.”15 NASA called its plans the “resident farmer 

scenario” as the farmer and the garden became the measure of success for its decommissioning process. In terms that Nathaniel Hawthorne might approve of, NASA’s 

goal was to return the “lap of bounteous nature” and “mollify it into harmony” once 

again by removing the reactor from the garden.

The Decommissioning Plan

The impetus for NASA’s decommissioning plan came from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) in 1998. In evaluating the Plum Brook reactors, it found 

that the radiation still at the site, particularly the cobalt 60, had decayed dramatically. This would make disposal easier now than it would have been in the past. But 

15 Interview with John Blakeman by Virginia Dawson, 26 September 2002.

The reactor as it appeared in 2003 before the major decommissioning demolition began.(NASA C2003_

00870)

Other institutions that decommissioned research and testing reactors did not 

wait so long. In the 1970s the Ames Laboratory operated a 5-megawatt research 

reactor that was owned by the Department of Energy (DOE). After 12 years of 

research the DOE no longer had a use for it and debated whether to mothball or 

decommission it. Unlike NASA, Ames officials decided to deal with the problem 

immediately by safely decommissioning the reactor at a cost of $4.3 million. The 

Ames researchers called this decision one of the most important lessons they had 

learned from the project. They said, “The decision to proceed with decommissioning immediately after shutdown seems to have been correct.” The speed of their 

decision was important because it enabled them to rely on the talents of workers 

who were employed at the reactor and knew best how to decommission it without 

having to hire expensive contractors. In 1983 the Ames officials concluded, “If the 

work had been postponed, the total cost would have been considerably greater.”12

NASA continually chose the path of postponement. 

Decommissioning was not only a costly process; it was also an environmentally 

delicate one. As the Nuclear Regulatory Commission stated in 1978, “The environmental impacts of decommission may be high. Special attention will be needed to 

minimize these impacts.”13 NASA had a very difficult task in front of it, but its goal 

was nothing short of attempting to turn back the environmental clock in a region 

that still suffered not only from a contaminated reactor but also from pollution 

left over from the ordnance days of World War II. NASA sought a return of Plum 

Brook’s agrarian state by making the health of the land itself the criterion for decommissioning success. Bill Wessell, the director of safety and assurance technologies, 

claimed that NASA wanted to be a “good steward” and that the job would not be 

completed until Plum Brook was the “same as any other land in Northwest Ohio.”14

One member of the Decommissioning Community Workgroup stated, “NASA’s 

said “the cleanup will cost more than the weapons themselves and will last for decades.” Likewise, the 

cost of decommissioning Plum Brook will be far more than what the government spent to construct 

and operate it. Stewart Udall, foreword to Michael D’Antonio, Atomic Harvest: Hanford and the Lethal 

Toll of America’s Nuclear Arsenal (New York: Crown Publishers, 1993), p. xi.

12 B. W. Link and R. L. Miller, “Evaluation of Nuclear Facility Decommissioning Projects: Summary 

Report Ames Laboratory Research Reactor,” May 1983, Box 271, Folder 1, Plum Brook Archives.

13 Nuclear Regulatory Commission, “Plan for Reevaluation of NRC Policy on Decommissioning 

of Nuclear Facilities,” April 1978, Box 271, Folder 4, Plum Brook Archives.

14 Bill Wessel, Minutes of First Meeting, Plum Brook Reactor Decommissioning,” 3 November 

1999, NASA Decommissioning Archives. The decommissioning archives can be found online 

at www.grc.nasa.gov/www/pbrf. A Community Information Bank has also been established at the 

Bowling Green State University’s Firelands Library. Hereafter these sites are referred to as the NASA 

Decommissioning Archives.
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tor (license TR-3) and the Mock-Up Reactor (license R-93).18

The NRC regulates and oversees the decommissioning process until the point at 

which it actually terminates the reactor license. The central mission of the NRC is 

to protect the public and the environment, safeguard the nuclear materials through 

long-term storage, and maintain the interests of national security.19 The government 

established the current decommissioning regulations on 21 July 1997, when the 

NRC published the Radiological Criteria for License Termination. This rule and its 

associated regulations replaced similar guidelines written in 1988 and spelled out all 

of the main criteria that a reactor licensee had to satisfy before the license itself could 

be terminated. The effort to decommission a reactor also has to comply with EPA 

standards and satisfy its regulations, such as the Clean Water Act, Clean Air Act, and 

the National Pollutant Discharge Elimination System. As of May 2005 the NRC 

was responsible for the regulation of 36 operating research and test reactors. Since 

1958 the NRC and its predecessor organization, the AEC, had decommissioned 73 

research and test reactors. The NRC is now in the process of decommissioning 13 

additional facilities. These include:

• CBS Corporation, Waltz Mill, Pennsylvania

• General Atomics, San Diego, California (two reactors)

• Georgia Institute of Technology, Atlanta, Georgia

• Iowa State University, Ames, Iowa

• Manhattan College, Riverdale, New York

• NASA’s Plum Brook Station, Sandusky, Ohio (two reactors)

• Sexton Nuclear Experimental Corporation, Sexton, Pennsylvania 

(one power reactor)

• University of Illinois, Urbana, Illinois

• University of Washington, Seattle, Washington

• University of Virginia, Charlottesville, Virginia (two reactors)20

18 Donald J. Campbell to U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission, 20 December 1999, NASA 

Decommissioning Archives.

19 John L. Minns and Michael T. Masnik, “Staff Responses to Frequently Asked Questions 

Concerning Decommissioning of Nuclear Power Reactors,” Nuclear Regulatory Commission, June 

2000, Box 8, Folder 6, Plum Brook Archives.

20 “Fact Sheet on Research and Test Reactors,” U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission, found at 

www.nrc.gov/reading-rm/doc-collections/fact-sheets/research -reactors.html. Accessed 11 May 2005.

most important, the costs of maintaining the facility continued to increase each 

year. Since the NRC knew that it would never again be used as a research facility, it 

denied its “possess but do not operate” license, and as a result NASA had to develop 

a decommissioning plan. This was also necessary for safety reasons because eventually the walls would cave in and there would then be a danger of spreading the 

existing radioactivity.16 The decommissioning effort that had been deferred for 25 

years was finally going to become a reality. NASA approved the funds to dismantle 

the facility, with a projected completion date of 2007. In December 1999 NASA 

submitted a decommissioning plan to the NRC.17 This plan included the main reac16 “Minutes of Community Workgroup Meeting #2, Plum Brook Reactor Decommisioning,” 7 

December 1999, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

17 Cabinet 12-E: Decommissioning Team Management Policies, unprocessed records at NASA’s 

Plum Brook Station.

The control room in 2001 with holes in the walls showing where instrumentation had been “cannibalized” 

for use elsewhere. (NASA C-2001-01221)
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mately responsible for the decommissioning process. Tim Polich left the NRC 

to become NASA’s decommissioning manager in 1999. He and his team became 

responsible for overseeing the entire process, which is sometimes conceptualized as 

“construction in reverse.” Unlike conventional building from the ground up, Polich 

and his team literally proceed from the roof to the ground. This includes removing 

and safely disposing of all radioactive materials, decontaminating and demolishing 

all of the buildings at the site, and finally backfilling the entire area with clean fill 

dirt. On 21 March 2002 the NRC officially approved the decommissioning plan. 

NASA-Glenn Research Center director Donald J. Campbell said that the NRC 

approval of NASA’s approach “reflects confidence in the capabilities and experience 

of our project team . . . . The pre-decommissioning activities to date were just the 

beginning; now the real work begins.”24

 One other important part of the decommissioning plan was to preserve any 

remaining materials that might have historical significance. Kevin Coleman from 

24 Donald Campbell, in “U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission Approves NASA Decommissioning 

Plan,” 1 April 2002, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

A former chemistry lab after 40 years of disuse. (NASA C-2001-1173)

 The Plum Brook decommissioning plan detailed an extensive process through 

which, piece by piece, the entire building would be dismantled. Engineers planned 

to transform the 117-acre site into a barren field, with an assurance to environmentalists that the ground would be safe enough for a family to actually live on, 

grow crops on, drink water from, and raise livestock on. Great care would be taken 

to decontaminate everything that came into contact with radiation before it was 

transported to landfills in Utah and South Carolina. Keith Peecook, senior project 

engineer, said, “It’s not just going in with a wrecking ball, it’s a little more surgical 

in nature.”21 The plan included the following activities:22

• Removing asbestos and lead paint

• Removing reactor internals and tank

• Removing radioactive material in the hot dry storage area

• Removing all equipment and components in the buildings

• Removing contaminated portions of concrete from the shielding 

and buildings

• Removing all piping in the buildings and embedded in the concrete

• Removing all contaminated soil and backfilling the holes

• Demolishing all above-grade decontaminated buildings

• Backfilling the below-grade portions of the buildings

The cornerstone of the plan was a federal partnership between NASA, the U.S. 

Army Corps of Engineers (USACE), and Argonne National Laboratories (a section 

of the U.S. Department of Energy). USACE was an important partner because it 

had extensive experience in managing large clean-up and construction projects. It 

also served as an important link to expertise in the private sector. USACE hired 

Montgomery Watson Harza, from Pasadena, California, as the prime contractor 

for the project. Duke Engineering Services, from Charlotte, North Carolina, and 

MOTA Corporation, from Columbia, South Carolina, were also chosen as subcontractors to assist with the engineering challenges.23

Despite the importance of the team, NASA was the organization that was ulti21 Keith Peecook, quoted in John C. Kuehner, “NASA Reactors Take Final Voyage,” The Plain 

Dealer (27 June 2002): B10.

22 “Decommissioning Plan for the Plum Brook Reactor Facility,” Revision 1, March 2001, NASA 

Decommissioning Archives.

23 Sally Herrington, “U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission Approves NASA Decommissioning 

Plan,” 1 April 2002, NASA Decommissioning Archives.
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What we’ve done is expedited their knowledge to the particulars of the Plum Brook 

Reactor Facility.”28

 The next three phases (1, 1A, and 2) consisted of removing the horizontal beam 

tubes and the beryllium plates because these contained some of the highest amounts 

of radioactivity at the reactor. The horizontal beam tubes were where the experiments were placed when the reactor was operating. To reduce exposure, workers 

removed these tubes remotely while watching their progress through video terminals. First the tube was moved into quadrant D. Then an automatic band saw cut 

through the tube. A crane lifted the tube 25 feet into a shielded liner, and a stainless-steel plug was bolted into the hole that was left in the wall of the reactor. The 

beryllium plates were also heavily contaminated. They were initially used during 

operations to reflect neutrons back toward the reactor core. To remove these plates, 

workers again used video monitors to see inside the reactor, while they stood above 

the shrapnel shields. They then used remote tools to unbolt the plate from the core 

and a crane to lift the plates out and into a steel box that was shipped to the Barnwell Disposal Facility.29

 The final three phases (3, 4, and 5) will consist of the removal of the major 

elements of the reactor and the tank. Phase 3 will remove the reactor internals 

below the core region, leaving an empty reactor tank when completed. Phase 4 will 

dismantle and remove the vessel walls. This will be a process that some describe as 

similar to peeling an orange from the inside out, or in this case peeling away the 

concrete and metals that once made the reactor strong. Many of the disposal casks 

from this operation will go to Envirocare of Utah. Phase 5 will consist of clean-up 

and demobilization. This will complete a major decommissioning milestone and 

will have resulted in the removal of the most significant source of remaining radiation.30

As of early 2004 the decommissioning team was in the midst of removing the 

reactor internals, which was part of Phase 3.31 Once segmentation is complete the 

team will dismantle the hot laboratories and demolish the remaining buildings. 

Though the team originally planned to finish all decommissioning work by 2007, 

the project will now likely continue beyond that deadline. Estimates are that when 

it is completed, 132,000 cubic feet of dry, low-level radioactive waste will have been 

28 “Decommissioning Team Goes to the Source: NASA Retirees ‘Back on the Job,” Decommissioning 

News (April 2003), 4, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

29 “Reactor Internals Removal,” NASA Decommissioning Archives.

30 “The Reactor Vessel,” NASA Decommissioning Archives.

31 “NASA Completes Productive Year of Decommissioning” (January 2004), 1, NASA 

Decommissioning Archives.

NASA-Glenn coordinated this work, but by the time the decommissioning started 

there were few artifacts that met the criteria for preservation. The NASA Procedures 

and Guidelines as defined in Identification and Disposition of NASA Artifacts state 

that the organization is to preserve all artifacts that are “unique objects that document the history of the science and technology of aeronautics and astronautics.” 

Although the Plum Brook reactor was the state of the art for its time, over the years 

the technology that it housed was of little lasting significance. In 2001 a historic 

preservation firm reported that its principal recommendation was to save a scale 

model of the reactor facility that had been on display at the Plum Brook cafeteria. 

Other small items like the “reactor on” sign could also be preserved by the National 

Air and Space Museum.25 The only large artifacts thought worthy of preservation 

were portions of the control room that had not already been cannibalized. 

 The plan for actually taking the reactor apart was called “segmentation,” and this 

process was broken down into seven phases. Its goal was to reduce radioactive materials to smaller segments for ease in safe packaging, transport, and disposal. The first 

phase (Phase 0) consisted of equipment setup and testing. Cranes were installed and 

tested for safety, and their operators were certified and trained. The old electrical 

system was removed and safety lighting was installed. A new ventilation system was 

put in place to provide workers with clean air. Tools and supplies were distributed 

throughout the reactor and stored where they would most likely be needed. Waste 

contracts with disposal companies were signed, and the permits were finalized. The 

Mock-Up Reactor was itself used for training exercises to help the workers better 

understand the segmentation process.26

 The decommissioning team called in former Plum Brook reactor engineers to 

assist with delicate operations like segmentation. This was considered the “most 

critical part of the Decommissioning Project.”27 Dean Sheibley (safety committee 

chairperson), Jack Crooks (process systems section), and Jack Ross (health physics manager) assembled six former employees to meet with the decommissioning 

team. The discussions surrounded a procedure for conducting a nitrogen purge 

test that would help determine the tritium release from irradiated beryllium plates. 

They also examined the items contained in the hot dry storage and the hot cells, 

which included used experimental apparatus. Sheibley said that the decommissioning team was a “good group of people with excellent decommissioning experience. 

25 Patrick W. O’Bannon, “Artifact Identification and Assessment: Plum Brook Reactor Facility, 

Sandusky, Ohio,” 16 April 2001, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

26 “Equipment Set Up & Testing,” NASA Decommissioning Archives. “Mock-Up Reactor Put to 

Work One Final Time,” Decommissioning News (July 2003): 3.

27 “Project Update,” Decommissioning News (October 2003): 1, NASA Decommissioning 

Archives.
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and unexplained activities.33 A community member said that everyone knew that 

UFOs had landed behind those fences. One of those stories appeared in a book 

on UFOs in 2001. UFOs Are Here! recounted the story of Reinhardt N. Ausmus 

from Sandusky, Ohio. At 6:45 p.m. on 30 January 1967, he and his wife observed 

a strange object hovering over Plum Brook. Ausmus, who was an aviator, claimed 

to have always been skeptical of this phenomenon, but witnessed this unexplained 

object for over four minutes.34

Officials at Plum Brook were well aware of these stories. In 1998 Robert Kozar, 

the director of the facility, commented to a reporter that there was a great deal of 

curiosity about what lay inside its fences. He said, “We get a lot of people who think 

we’re doing something secret, that we must be housing a flying saucer in here and 

that’s why we won’t let people in.”35 Another reporter likened it to an “X Files-like 

setting of high-tech buildings.”36 Though NASA restricted public access to Plum 

Brook once it was shut down in 1973, it approached decommissioning differently. 

Officials sought to not only erase the rumors of paranormal phenomena, but also 

to try to educate the public about the difficult process of removing radiation from 

the land. 

Open communication between the engineers and the community was considered essential for project success. NASA set up community workgroups, established 

a repository of information at a local college, and let residents tour the facility and 

ask questions about any safety concerns that they had. Tim Polich, NASA’s Decommissioning Project Manager, said that “our responsibility is to be a good neighbor.” 

With safety as NASA’s main priority, he wanted to establish an information “conduit with the public.”37

Nuclear fear had not lessened over time. Reactors continue to operate in the cultural shadows cast by Three Mile Island and Chernobyl. There is still intense debate 

among scientists over the ambiguities of radiation effects. According to J. Samuel 

Walker, reports published through the 1990s resulted in no definite conclusions. 

33 Minutes of Community Workgroup Meeting #2, Plum Brook Reactor Decommissioning,” 7 

December 1999, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

34 Brad Steiger and Sherry Hansen Steiger, UFOs Are Here!: Unmasking the Greatest Conspiracy of 

Our Time (Citadel, 2001), p. 78.

35 Robert Kozar, quoted in Ulysses Torassa, “10,9,8,7 . . . Little-Known Ohio NASA Facility Tests 

New Rockets, Jet Engines,” The Plain Dealer (19 April 1998): 1J.

36 John Mangels, “NASA Testing Facilities Count Rivals Among Customers,” Newhouse News 

Service (27 July 1999): 1.

37 Tim Polich, Minutes of First Meeting, Plum Brook Reactor Decommissioning,” 3 November 

1999, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

removed, along with 230,000 cubic feet of nonradioactive, solid industrial waste. 

Despite all of the decommissioning team’s efforts to keep local people informed 

about their work, the community has remained skeptical and concerned about what 

was often regarded as “mysterious” work beyond the NASA fences. Outreach efforts 

have been specifically designed to solve that mystery and let many of the residents 

see for the first time what existed behind the gates that had remained hidden from 

the community for so long.

Solving the Mystery Behind the Fence

NASA believed that building an open relationship with the local community 

was a main priority in the effort to decontaminate and demolish the reactor. Perkins 

Fire Chief Richard Ennis said that most of the community viewed Plum Brook as 

the “other side of the fence.”32 It was an isolated place, hidden behind gates, fences, 

guards, and open land that spawned stories about “mysterious” loud noises, lights, 

32 “Minutes of First Meeting,” Plum Brook Reactor Decommissioning Community Workgroup, 

Firelands College, 3 November 1999, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

One of the most dramatic moments of the decommissioning process was the demolition of the water tower. 

(NASA C-2004-744)
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that the reactor could affect weather patterns in the area.44 Some believed that UFOs 

were landing behind the fences, similar to rumors told about communities like 

Roswell, New Mexico. Ethel Roldan predicted that there would be new questions, 

speculations, and concerns once the community began to see the trucks carrying 

radioactive waste out of Plum Brook and onto the highways.45

The first meeting of the Plum Brook community workgroup was held at Firelands College (Bowling Green State University) on 3 November 1999. A group of 

eight community members attended, along with representatives from NASA, the 

Nuclear Regulatory Commission, and Argonne National Laboratories.46 Topics of 

conversation included the communication process, the dissemination of information, and the steps involved in the decommissioning. Questions from the community representatives included the amount of radiation that would potentially be 

stirred up and travel into the community—the answer was “nearly none.” Other 

questions focused on background radiation, how the waste would be transported off 

the facility, and the extent to which the workers were being protected from radiation.47 The first few meetings were held at Firelands College, and others were held 

at churches because of their centrality to the community. For example, one African 

American member said that virtually no one in her community knew about the 

decommissioning. As a result the workgroup team planned on a future gathering at 

a Sandusky African American church.48

By the second meeting, held 1 month later, an audience of 20 members from the 

public attended. Some of them expressed concerns about the decommissioning process. One person said that he thought it would be better to simply leave the reactor 

44 “Minutes of Community Workgroup Meeting #3, Plum Brook Reactor Decommisioning,” 15 

February 2000, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

45 “Minutes of Community Workgroup Meeting #7, Plum Brook Reactor Decommisioning,” 

24 April 2001, NASA Decommissioning Archives; “Community Workgroup Profile: Ethel Roldan,” 

Decommissioning News, (October 2002), 3, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

46 Workgroup members at this first meeting included John Blakeman, Janet Bohne, Mark 

Bohne, Fred Deering, Richard Ennis, Jonathan Granville, Robert Speers, and Bill Walker. Other 

representatives included Tim Polich, Decommissioning Project Manager; Bill Wessel, Director of 

Safety and Assurance Technologies; Sally Harrington, Public Affairs Specialist; Marvin Mendonca 

from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission; Bob Hysong, a health physicist from Argonne National 

Laboratories; Susan Santos and Michael Morgan from Focus Group; and Keith Peecook and Larry 

Schroder from NASA.

47 “Minutes of First Meeting, Plum Brook Reactor Decommissioning,” 3 November 1999, NASA 

Decommissioning Archives.

48 “Minutes of Community Workgroup Meeting #3, Plum Brook Reactor Decommisioning,” 15 

February 2000, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

The debate was not just about power reactors, but also about the threat of low-level 

radiation. Walker said that these reports “provided a confusing and sometimes contradictory variety of assessments of the risks of exposure to low-level radiation.”38

This kept public fears of radiation at a high level and made these concerns a more 

pressing issue than any other environmental or industrial health threat. 

When the local community first learned that the Plum Brook reactor was finally 

going to be torn down, there was a great deal of concern among the residents. One 

joke about the process was: “How do you tear down a nuclear reactor?” The answer 

was: “Very carefully.”39 But humor aside, the community took this process very 

seriously. John Blakeman had been a resident of the area for over 30 years as a high 

school science teacher.40 When he first heard that NASA was going to decommission he said, “I am reasonably familiar with the problems of radiation and remnant 

radiation and so forth. So yes, I had concerns, as did everyone.”41 He volunteered to 

become a member of the Decommissioning Community Workgroup, established 

by NASA and made up of concerned citizens who regularly met with decommissioning officials to discuss every aspect of the process.

The workgroup had a hard task ahead of it because of the years of secrecy surrounding the Plum Brook region.42 Though there had been public tours when the 

reactor was in operation, these stopped in the early 1970s, and few citizens had been 

allowed inside for nearly 30 years. Janet Bohne, a local environmentalist, had lived 

close to the reactor for nearly 50 years. She said, “There were many people that had 

concerns about what was going on out here behind the fence. No one could ever get 

in and you knew there was a nuclear reactor out here and everything was very . . . 

secretive.”43 One community member constantly complained of loud unexplained 

noises and believed that the security guards at the gate were less than forthcoming 

when asked for an explanation. Another commented that there was a belief by some 

38 J. Samuel Walker, Permissible Dose: A History of Radiation Protection in the Twentieth Century 

(Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), p. 129.

39 Bruce Lieberman and Paul Horn, “Mission Possible,” Decommissioning the San Onofre Nuclear 

Generating Station, at http://www.celsoc.org/ftp/sanonofrenucleargs.pdf.

40 “Meet John Blakeman,” Decommissioning News (October 2001), 3, NASA Decommissioning 

Archives.

41 Interview with John Blakeman by Virginia Dawson, 26 September 2002.

42 “Minutes of Community Workgroup Meeting #2, Plum Brook Reactor Decommisioning,” 7 

December 1999, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

43 Interview with Jan Bohne by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002; “Community Workgroup 

Profile: Janet and Mark Bohne,” Decommissioning News (January 2002), 3, NASA Decommissioning 

Archives.
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are then calculated through a rigorous set of NRC-approved formulas, models, and 

parameter values. It is the NRC’s responsibility to then evaluate this estimation and 

recalculate if it feels it was done improperly. 

These technical debates over risk aside, the bottom line for the community 

was safety and risk to their health. Would their children be safe playing outside? 

Could radiation contaminate their drinking water? Might their descendents have 

a higher rate of cancer? These were the types of questions that NASA endeavored 

to answer by conveying its commitment to safety to the public. Officials explained 

to local residents that throughout the decommissioning process, safety issues were 

made a primary focus to protect the workers, the surrounding community, and 

the environment. Tim Polich said, “NASA is committed to the safest method of 

decommissioning these reactors.”51 This was more than rhetoric; it was a part of the 

decommissioning work culture. Every worker and visitor to the reactor was given 

extensive training and had to pass a test to prove awareness of radiation safety issues. 

Everyone who went inside the reactor carried a personal dosimeter, which indicated 

any unplanned exposure to radiation. Furthermore, upon leaving the reactor everyone had to pass through full-body radiation monitors to detect any trace amounts 

of contamination. 

Several intense focus group sessions indicated that the tremendous effort that 

was put into community outreach was working well. These sessions took place at a 

local hotel, with participants grouped by how close they lived to the reactor, including residents from Sandusky, Huron, Milan, Berlin, and Oxford Township. The 

resulting focus-group analysis revealed that the public trusted NASA to do a good 

job with the decommissioning and ensure the safety of the community. In particular, the focus group considered the Community Workgroup a “trusted independent 

source” that was essential in ensuring that NASA’s interests remained in line with 

the good of the community.52 Mark Bohne, a local resident and member of the 

workgroup, confessed that although some people still think of Plum Brook as the 

mysterious place with the ten-foot fence around it, he felt confident that they were 

“pulling that veil aside.”53 What the community saw in the efforts taking place at 

Plum Brook comforted them. But environmental concerns still cast a shadow over 

the region. 

51 Tim Polich, Decomissioning Video—Narration, at http://www.grc.gov/WWW/pbrf/video_

script.htm.

52 Minutes of Community Workgroup Meeting #13, Plum Brook Reactor Decommisioning,” 16 

October 2002, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

53 Interview with Mark Bohne by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

alone. He also said that his house was only 300 yards from the reactor and that no 

one on his street had been alerted to any of the decommissioning events. This was 

an important concern since a distribution error caused only one side of his street to 

be informed about the first decommissioning meeting, and NASA apologized for 

the “inadvertent oversight.” 

NASA established a Multifaceted Community Relations Plan, which created a 

communication link between the decommissioning team and local residents who 

were not a part of the workgroup. The plan included educational initiatives to teach 

the public about decommissioning activities and extensive outreach efforts with 

people from the surrounding area to ensure that they understood what was happening behind the secured Plum Brook fences. NASA assured the community that 

any family living in the area would receive no more than a dose of 25 millirems of 

radiation because of their proximity to the reactor. Ohio residents on average receive 

about 360 millirems per year from all sources, and the government has set a limit 

that no worker is allowed to receive more than 5000 millirems on the job during any 

year. Those who work at the site every day will likely receive only about one-fifth 

that amount.

In determining what an acceptable level of radiation risk is, the NRC currently 

uses findings from the International Commission on Radiation Protection (ICRP) 

and the National Council on Radiation Protection and Measurements (NCRP). 

These organizations accept that 100 millirems per year is an acceptable level of risk 

for an average person to receive who is not undergoing medical treatments. But 

these two organizations wanted to set the permissible dose level at 25 millirems 

per year as the value for residual radiation at a site undergoing license termination 

(which is the limit set for Plum Brook). Despite these established levels, uncertainty 

remained. In June 2000 the NRC admitted, “Both organizations have acknowledged the difficulty in setting acceptable levels of risk for the public.”49 The EPA 

has a radiation dose limit of 15 millirems per year, and in areas requiring radiation 

clean-up the NRC abandoned the use of a set number in favor of its ALARA standard (As Low As Reasonably Achievable). 

Further complicating the discussion on permissible dose levels is the fact that 

the doses themselves have to be estimated. This responsibility falls to the entity 

that licensed the reactor in the first place. The estimation is made, according to the 

NRC, by “using assumptions about the amount of radioactive materials that will 

be released to the proximity of the public to the source of radiation.”50 The doses 

49 John L. Minns and Michael T. Masnik, “Staff Responses to Frequently Asked Questions 

Concerning Decommissioning of Nuclear Power Reactors,” Nuclear Regulatory Commission, June 

2000, Box 8, Folder 6, Plum Brook Archives.

50 Ibid.
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been questions of lead releases by the Army Corps of Engineers, and several of the 

streams ran red. The recommendation was to decontaminate the land completely 

and then lease it back to the community, possibly for the resumption of farming 

activities.

 However, this decontamination never occurred. One year after Sanders’s assessment the Army gave 500 acres of land (formerly the Pentolite Area of the Plum 

Brook Ordnance Works) for use to construct the reactor. Three years later, in January 1958, the Army transferred an additional 3,180 acres to NASA and in 1961 gave 

up the remaining ordnance lands.58 There were minimal efforts to clean up this land 

over the next two decades. John E. Ross of Teledyne Isotopes stated in 1977 that 

Plum Brook had several areas that still had neutralized chemical wastes. He said, 

“These wastes were generated in the early 1940s and essentially have been ‘in place’ 

since 1945–1946 when explosive manufacturing ended at this location.”59 The most 

58 Colonel Michael H. Fellows, “Defense Environmental Restoration Program for Formerly Used 

Defense Sites,” U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Huntington District, Administrative Record for Plum 

Brook Ordnance Works, Volume 1.08, Firelands College Library.

59 John E. Ross, Memorandum for the Record, 28 June 1977, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers 

Huntington District, Administrative Record for Plum Brook Ordnance Works, Volume 1.06, Firelands 

College Library.

One of the contaminated reservoirs left over from the Plum Brook Ordnance Works days.

(NASA 2005-1200) 

Plum Brook Runs Red

 The most recent environmental scare at Plum Brook emerged when local news 

media in 2005 began reporting the possibility of radiological contamination in 

the area. In October the Toledo Blade published an article entitled “Radioactivity 

Found in Lake Erie Tributary.” It stated that NASA revealed that a one-mile portion 

of the Plum Brook creek had soil with isotopes of radioactive Cesium 137 that were 

slightly above background levels.54 This radioactivity was most likely due to the 

Plum Brook reactors that were in operation between 1962 and 1973. Despite these 

elevated readings, NASA and the NRC were convinced that “the levels we found 

do not represent a health risk.”55 But these findings did require further inquiry to 

determine if additional cleanup efforts were needed. 

NASA is not the only agency carrying out environmental restoration efforts 

at Plum Brook. The United States Army Corps of Engineers is also involved in 

cleaning up areas that are still contaminated from the days of the ordnance works. 

The history of environmental concern in the area dates back to when the ordnance 

works was operational in World War II. The Army conducted the first environmental survey in October 1942, investigating complaints of pollution of Plum Brook 

and Sandusky Bay. In March 1945 another investigation documented “heavy fish 

killing” in the bay, where the water was turning red-brown because of the wastes 

that came from the ordnance works. Even after the war ended and no additional 

explosives were being manufactured, pollution continued because of TNT-contaminated surface waters flowing into Sandusky Bay.56

Although these were isolated reports, the Army conducted another major survey 

of Plum Brook’s condition after the war for the commanding officer of the Ravenna 

Arsenal, which was responsible for the land. In 1955 E. R. Sanders, Jr., manager of 

product engineering, performed this survey and wrote, “From our first inspections 

as to conditions at Plum Brook Ordnance Works it was realized that T.N.T. areas at 

this location represented what we considered a hazardous condition.”57 There had 

54 Tom Henry, “Radioactivity Found in Lake Erie Tributary,” Toledo Blade (19 October 2005).

55 Richard Payerchin, “Officials: Radiation in Sediment not Threat to Health,” The Morning Journal 

(19 October 2005).

56 “Historical Pollution Reports,” as found in, Dames & Moore, “Draft Records Review Report,” 

U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Huntington District, Administrative Record for Plum Brook Ordnance 

Works, Volume 1.05, Firelands College Library.

57 E. R. Sanders Jr. to Commanding Officer Ravella Arsenal, 23 August 1955, U.S. Army Corps 

of Engineers Huntington District, Administrative Record for Plum Brook Ordnance Works, Volume 

1.06, Firelands College Library.
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trical insulating oils that contained PCBs, stored in a separate building. Every 24 

hours this facility was checked for any potential leakage. In 1973, 8,000 cubic yards 

of lime sludge was taken from the reactor settling basins and disposed of on Plum 

Brook grounds. The sludge was a by-product of treatment of process cooling water 

from the reactor, though it was nonradioactive. None of this sludge had leaked into 

the surrounding streams. Since that time all similar materials were disposed of in 

authorized landfills.62

Residual deposits of TNT were also present at Plum Brook. There were many 

underground wooden drain lines or flumes that had carried liquid and solid wastes 

to basins. In total there was over 8 miles of underground pipe: 20,825 feet of 4-inch 

pipe; 2,050 feet of 5-inch pipe; 11,250 feet of 6-inch pipe; and 8,875 feet of 10-inch 

pipe.63 Over time these lines became contaminated with TNT and often became 

completely plugged. Once the flumes became plugged they were not cleaned, but 

instead were bypassed with new lines. To complicate the restoration effort, these 

bypass lines were not documented on any drawings, and thus a search effort that 

required underground digging was necessary to first find them. Once found, these 

underground lines were removed and burned. Also excavations were made 20 feet 

to either side of the lines to ensure that all of the bypasses were found. However, 

NASA continued to periodically encounter these lines, and when it did they were 

also removed and burned.64

In March 1980 John N. Wuthenow from the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers 

visited Plum Brook to determine if the Army had any responsibility to help to clean 

up the site because of the contamination from the ordnance works. He determined 

that the Army still had responsibilities to the land. Shortly thereafter work began 

and continues to this day. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Huntington District 

is responsible for environmental restoration at Department of Defense sites. The 

Huntington District works in conjunction with NASA, the Ohio EPA, and the Restoration Advisory Board, which is made up of a group of concerned local citizens. 

Funding for this environmental activity comes from the Defense Environmental 

62 R. J. Koch, “USEPA Inquiry Regarding the Storage or Disposal of Wastes at the Plum Brook 

Station,” 10 June 1980, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Huntington District, Administrative Record 

for Plum Brook Ordnance Works, Volume 1.06, Firelands College Library.

63 “Site Management Plan,” 30 September 1995, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Huntington 

District, Administrative Record for Plum Brook Ordnance Works, Volume 1.05, Firelands College 

Library.

64 R. J. Koch, “USEPA Inquiry Regarding the Storage or Disposal of Wastes at the Plum Brook 

Station,” 10 June 1980, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Huntington District, Administrative Record 

for Plum Brook Ordnance Works, Volume 1.06, Firelands College Library.

significant concern was the “red water” problem, which everyone familiar with the 

area knew about.

During World War II the United States Army established two red water retention 

basins. The West Area Red Water Ponds held 120,000 cubic yards of waste water, 

and the Pentolite Road Red Water Ponds contained an additional 182,000 cubic 

yards of waste. In total these basins covered eight acres of land, and when it was 

filled too high it overflowed into Pipe Creek, which ran through the western part of 

Plum Brook. Red water seepage occasionally was carried through surface drainage 

into the Plum Brook stream itself, ironically making its “plum” name more literally 

true than ever before. Hank Pfanner grew up around the Plum Brook region and 

later spent his career working there as a controls engineer and the reactor manager. 

He recalled that Pipe Creek, which ran through the back of his father’s lot in the 

western part of Plum Brook, was a favorite place for him and his cousins to play. 

The only problem was that they emerged from the water with red legs from the 

contaminant that still remained.60

 Over the years NASA did make an attempt to understand why the water was red 

and what chemicals caused its coloration. None of these inquiries ever found that 

the waters were hazardous.61 Most concluded that it was the result of one or more of 

the chemicals that were used to produce explosives. These included nitric acid, sulfuric acid, ammonia, soda ash, sulfur, sodium sulfite, acetone, and toluene. The red 

water was more of an aesthetic than an environmental problem. It did not appear to 

be toxic to aquatic life since minnows and other creatures inhabited the red ponds. 

Vegetation grew all around the red water areas, and ducks, geese, and blue herons 

were frequently seen feeding there. Furthermore, raccoons, groundhogs, and deer 

often drank the red water.

 There were other environmental concerns besides the red waters. There was 

4,680 feet cubic feet of asbestos stored in deteriorating cardboard boxes, many of 

which were split open. These were located in several of the storage igloos originally 

built during the war to house explosive powder. In 1980 NASA began to look into 

disposing of this waste in a safe and efficient manner. There were three waste oil 

retention tanks (1,200 gallons, 500 gallons, and 1,000 gallons) that held oils and 

solvents associated with Plum Brook operations. These were buried underground, 

and when they became 75% full, a service contractor pumped out the materials in 

accordance with Ohio EPA regulations. There were also 1,000 gallons of waste elec60 Interview with Hank Pfanner by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

61 R. J. Koch, “USEPA Inquiry Regarding the Storage or Disposal of Wastes at the Plum Brook 

Station,” 10 June 1980, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Huntington District, Administrative Record 

for Plum Brook Ordnance Works, Volume 1.06, Firelands College Library.
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Sleepy Hollow at the start of this chapter was one of Marx’s examples that he used 

to illustrate this idea. Specifically, he asked what meanings were attached to the 

transition of a land from an agricultural to industrial production.70 Paul R. Josephson associated Marx’s idea with Soviet nuclear technology in a chapter that he titled 

“The Reactor in the Garden.” He described a river flowing through a nature preserve 

that the community used for fishing and swimming and engineers used for cooling 

water for several nuclear reactors. Josephson said this was a reactor in the garden in 

the “sense of showing complete agreement between nature and human designs for 

huge machines...”71 However, Marx’s thesis was not that there was “complete agreement” between technology and nature; in fact, he argued just the opposite. To Marx 

the machine was a contradiction of the ideal of a garden. Machines encroached 

upon and changed the land in fundamental ways, never becoming a part of it, yet 

transforming the environment by making it adapt to the technology. 

This tension has always been a part of Plum Brook’s history. It began when 

agricultural farming gave way to military/industrial production in World War II. 

It continued and intensified when what was industrial was again transformed to 

nuclear in the 1960s. And yet Plum Brook today is attempting a reversal that Marx 

did not envision—a return to nature. Can machines be removed from land they 

once transformed, and can people help to restore the environment to its original 

garden-like state? When the reactor was in operation the engineers often asked if 

they were permitted to pick apples off the numerous apple trees that grew around 

the facility, left over from the farmers’ apple orchards. In 1963 H. Brock Barkley, 

reactor chief, gave this warning: because of the “significant amounts of toxic materials used in this work, nothing growing on the [Plum Brook] Station should be 

picked or removed.”72

The stated goal of those who are now tearing down the reactor is a level of success that is measured in environmental terms. Some 40 years after Barkley’s warning, Tim Polich, the reactor decommissioning project manager said, “The ultimate 

goal of the decommissioning project is to return the land back to what’s called, a 

resident farmer scenario. That is where somebody could come in to where the reac70 This transition violated what Mark Fiege has called the “garden myth.” Although it is an ancient 

story, Americans have modified and adapted it since the time its first colonists transformed the untamed 

wilderness into productive farms. This defined an important part of the new nation’s character as 

agrarianism “became central to the American identity.” The loss of this agrarian identify came with 

the industrial incursion. Mark Fiege, Irrigated Eden: The Making of an Agricultural Landscape in the 

American West (Seattle and London: University of Washington Press, 1999), p. 171.

71 Paul R. Josephson, Red Atom: Russia’s Nuclear Power Program from Stalin to Today (New York: W. 

H. Freeman and Company, 2000), p. 6.

72 H. Brock Barkley, “Newsgram #1,” 24 May 1963, Box 45, Plum Brook Archives.

Restoration Program for Formally Used Defense Sites.65

Mark Bohne is a co-chair of the Plum Brook Restoration Advisory Board.66 He 

said that since the 1940s there have been numerous efforts to clean up and decontaminate Plum Brook, but they have been “a little bit horrendous by today’s standards.”67 With higher environmental standards in place, the U.S. Army Corps of 

Engineers is now “getting down to the nitty gritty of whatever is left, determining 

where [contamination remains] through scientific method.” Bohne said that the 

Plum Brook clean-up was not unique and that there were hundreds of other restoration advisory boards in existence throughout the United States performing similar functions. The goal for the Restoration Advisory Board, according to his wife 

and co-chair, Janet, is to guarantee that no contamination remains at Plum Brook 

when they are done.68 But in spite of all of this contamination, not only from the 

ordnance works but also from the reactor, would it be possible for the garden-like 

aspects of the land to reassert themselves? How could decades of waste be washed 

away and the fertile garden once again emerge? 

The Return of the Garden

The relationship between the technological and environmental aspects of the 

Plum Brook region has been one of the defining features of its history. The Plum 

Brook reactor became a “reactor in the garden,” a phrase quite literally true, with 

allusions to a classic work in the history of technology. Leo Marx wrote The Machine 

in the Garden in 1964 to discuss the inherent tension between technology and the 

pastoral ideal in our American past.69 The example of Nathaniel Hawthorne in 

65 Plum Brook Ordnance Works Restoration Advisory Board Homepage, found at http://www.lrh.

usace.Army.mil/pm/pbow/.

66 “Community Relations Plan,” 17 August 2000, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Huntington 

District, Administrative Record for Plum Brook Ordnance Works, Volume 8.06, Firelands College 

Library.

67 Interview with Mark Bohne by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

68 Interview with Jan Bohne by Mark D. Bowles, 26 September 2002.

69 Leo Marx, The Machine in the Garden: Technology and the Pastoral Ideal in America (Oxford: 

Oxford University Press, 1964). Other writers have brought this phrasing to other types of historical 

inquiry. See Ken Goldberg, The Robot in the Garden: Telerobotics and Telepistemology in the Age of the 

Internet (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2000); Colin Tudge, The Engineer in the Garden: Genes and Genetics 

from the Idea of Heredity to the Creation of Life (New York: Hill and Wang, 1995); Michael Ian Luger, 

Technology in the Garden: Research Parks and Regional Economic Development (Chapel Hill: University 

of North Carolina Press, 1991).
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“Fire Lands” when relatives of Connecticut citizens who lost their homes when the 

British set fire to them during the Revolutionary War first settled it. After World 

War II ordnance workers used fire as a primary technique to destroy buildings the 

government could no longer use. When the reactor was placed in standby condition, fire remained a part of the land. The caretakers who preserved the reactor took 

note that the once beautiful prairie land surrounding Plum Brook was being taken 

over by ugly brush. One of the engineers recalled that farmers burned brush to get 

rid of it, and so they set some controlled fires and watched them spread. This began 

the “burning of Plum Brook,” a biannual ritual that continues to this day and has 

been credited with restoring the natural ecological landscape and saving the rare 

prairie plants. The natural prairie land that emerged from this fiery cleansing always 

made for an intriguing juxtaposition between advanced technology and environmental preserve.

The Plum Brook forests and plains are also unique. The Central Meadows Area 

is significant because Ohio has no native prairie locations like it. Though the presence of humans has restricted its natural growth, through proper cultivation it has 

great potential to be restored to its original conditions. The West Area native forests 

are also important. According to Mike Blotzer, chief of the Environmental Management Office at Glenn Research Center, “[It] may be one of the most significant 

remnant forest areas in the Ohio Lake Plain. It is unique as a remarkable representaA natural field at Plum Brook Station. NASA Glenn Environmental Office. (NASA C-2001-01214)

tor was at, build a home, raise crops, raise animals that they would eat, and still not 

get more than natural background radiation.”73 This goal is supported by the NRC, 

which has stated that when it terminates a reactor license there are no restrictions 

on land usage. It stated that possible uses included restoring the natural habitat or 

even farming.74

But could nature return to these lands? Strangely, the distinctions between the 

natural and the unnatural could become blurred at places like nuclear reactors. The 

Hanford Engineer Works had its start producing plutonium during World War 

II and required a large open space around it to serve as a buffer region. Richard 

White wrote that this space became an area where animal life thrived and prospered. 

He said that the lands around it became a “wildlife oasis” that included “eagles, 

black-crowned night herons, prairie falcons, long-billed curlews, a profusion of 

overwintering waterfowl, coyotes, deer and other species all . . . in the shadows of 

the reactors and processing plants.”75 As the sand drifts filled the doorways where 

thousands of people once passed, a former worker at the facility “thought nature 

had returned.”76

Today Plum Brook’s 6,400 acres of land demonstrate an incredible ecological 

variety and vitality. This includes 521 plant, 125 breeding bird, 21 amphibian/

reptile, 16 fish, 53 butterfly, 450 moth, and 8 bat species. Several of these are protected by the Endangered Species Act, which maintains that federal agencies cannot 

jeopardize the existence of any threatened species. Plum Brook has 20 plant, 8 bird, 

3 amphibian/reptile, and 1 moth protected species. Eleven populations of Least 

St. John’s Wort grow at Plum Brook, which are the largest concentrations of this 

plant in Ohio. The Sedge wren uses the area as one of the most important breeding grounds for its species. Recently a bald eagle pair built a nest at the facility, and 

onlookers anticipate the appearance of baby eagles. The deer population inside the 

fence is often in excess of 2,000. Controlled hunts are occasionally scheduled to 

keep the number of deer in proportion with a sustainable habitat.

The vitality of these Plum Brook lands was ironically attributed in part to fire. 

Indians first brought fire to the lands and used the technique to clear overgrown 

brush and attract deer by increasing the vegetation. The area became known as the 

73 Interview with Tim Polich by Virginia Dawson, 27 September 2002.

74 John L. Minns and Michael T. Masnik, “Staff Responses to Frequently Asked Questions 

Concerning Decommissioning of Nuclear Power Reactors,” Nuclear Regulatory Commission, June 

2000, Box 8, Folder 6, Plum Brook Archives.

75 Richard White, The Organic Machine (New York: Hill and Wnag, 1995), p. 84.

76 Ibid.
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federal agencies and contractors associated with the clean-up are finally addressing 

a significant environmental problem. The effort to restore the garden is a debt that 

NASA is now paying back for its brief tenure in nuclear experimentation. 

tion of Ohio forest conditions at the time of the early settlement in the early 19th 

century.”77 Keith Peecook, senior project engineer for the Plum Brook decommissioning, said, “The 500-acres around here [is] called one of the finest stands of hardwood wetlands in northern Ohio. I personally would like to see this land become 

part of the Erie County Metroparks system.”78

A main difference between Plum Brook and Hanford is the level of environmental contamination. Though officials at Hanford pioneered the science of environmental monitoring by measuring contamination levels, the site was responsible for 

dumping billions of gallons of radioactive and chemical wastes, as well as billions 

of cubic meters of gases, into the Columbia River and into the ground and air of 

the surrounding region. According to Michele Stenehjem, a renaissance is now in 

progress at Hanford to clean up the lands, restore the environment, and involve the 

public in the process.79 The scope of radioactive production at Plum Brook never 

approached the levels at Hanford. Today the Plum Brook decommissioning is considered NASA’s largest environmental project, not only because of the importance 

of safely disposing of radioactive remains but also because the surrounding area is a 

unique natural preserve. Every week air samples are taken, and water samples from 

the area are collected every month for analysis at an off-site laboratory. 

The land the government forcibly acquired through eminent domain in 1941 

for use as an ordnance works and later became the home of NASA’s most powerful 

nuclear test reactor will once again be restored to its natural condition. From the 

natural frontier to the nuclear frontier and back again, the Plum Brook lands have 

demonstrated the resiliency of nature and its adaptability to modern development. 

But what must not be forgotten is that without the emphasis on safety and environmental preservation by NASA’s scientists and engineers, the dangers of nuclear 

research would have forever contaminated an important piece of our American heritage.

The garden has not yet entirely returned to Plum Brook. The decommissioning 

process will not be completed for several years, and the clean-up from the ordnance 

works is an ongoing effort. But the goal still remains to restore the land and expel the 

previous two industrial machines from the garden. Whether anyone will ever want 

to farm this land is uncertain. But what is important is that NASA and its partner 

77 Mike Blotzer, “Protected Species Management at Glenn Research Center,” Office of Safety and 

Assurance Technolgies Forum, 10 June 2002.

78 Keith Peecook, transcript to “NASA Plum Brook – Part 2,” aired 8 October 2002, found at 

http://www.wcpn.org/news2002/10%2D12/1008plum%2Dbrook%2D2.html.

79 Michele Stenehjem Gerber, On the Home Front: The Cold War Legacy of the Hanford Nuclear Site 

2nd ed. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2002), pp. 2–10.

Conclusion–Disappearing in the Night 

In April 2005 Rick Weiss, a science writer for the Washington Post, published an 

article describing what he called the “incredible shrinking curiosity” in the United 

States. He argued that American science has “lost sight of the value of non-applied, 

curiosity-driven research—the open-ended sort of exploration that doesn’t know 

exactly where its going but so often leads to big payoffs.” Instead of patient, longterm support, quick deliverables have become the goal for the new research agenda. 

Weiss cited numerous examples. The Pentagon’s DARPA project has begun to shift 

initiatives away from basic research to goal-oriented endeavors. The Department 

of Energy is pulling funds from a Fermilab project to explore high-energy physics. 

The National Science Foundation has experienced significant recent cuts and now 

requires funding recipients to describe how and when their research will provide 

dividends. Weiss concluded, “We are losing . . . one of the oldest traditions in 

science: to simply observe, almost monk-like, with an open mind and without a 

plan.”1

Weiss’s argument describes our present scientific climate but is also reminiscent 

of past criticisms of government-supported science. When the Plum Brook reactor 

was being shut down in 1973, Congressman Charles Mosher fought hard to keep 

it alive. His main argument was that the withdrawal of the government’s support of 

science was short sighted. Mosher testified in government hearings that he did not 

understand the policy of constructing not only a costly, but also a unique experimental facility like Plum Brook, and then suddenly pulling the plug on it and suspending its operations. It was not as if the government believed that it would never 

again return to its work on nuclear propulsion. The best estimates in the early 1970s 

were that the government would resume this work in the 1980s. But by that point 

the infrastructure then in place would be useless and the nation would have to start 

again from the beginning. Mosher criticized NASA administrator James C. Fletcher’s Congressional testimony, saying: “Now you are going through the very painful 

1

 Rick Weiss, “Our Incredible Shrinking Curiosity,” Washington Post (10 April 2005): B01.

273
274

Science in lux . . . f

275

Conclusion–Disappearing in the Night

reactor represents NASA’s technological declaration of independence from gravity as 

a tool for propelling interplanetary spacecraft.”6

 This new nuclear rocket was a continuation of the dream that Plum Brook engineers worked toward in the 1960s. If 

successful, it would enable heavier and more sophisticated experimental equipment 

to reach the outer planets and maybe even transport humans to Mars. 

This gleam in the engineers’ eyes grew brighter after comments made in support of nuclear propulsion by NASA’s leadership. Sean O’Keefe, NASA’s former 

administrator, had been revisiting the advantages and disadvantages of designing 

and constructing nuclear rockets for space exploration for several years. O’Keefe 

outlined NASA’s new nuclear vision for the future in April 2002. He said, “Conventional rockets and fuel simply aren’t practical as we reach further out into the 

cosmos. That’s why we are launching an initiative to explore the use of nuclear 

propulsion.”7

 He said that deep-space travel today is almost out of the question for 

humans because we have no fast ways to get there. In comparison, our astronauts 

could today only travel slightly faster than John Glenn did in America’s maiden 

orbital voyage in Friendship 7 over 40 years ago. O’Keefe said, “The nuclear propulsion initiative is the next logical step to overcome this technology limitation. It’s 

a mature technology, and its application to space travel has great potential.” This 

technology, as O’Keefe pointed out, had been used to power nuclear ships in the 

Navy since 1955, traveling over 120 million miles without any accidents.

Technological development is often shaped by the prevailing political winds. 

Though Kennedy’s dream of a nuclear rocket went unrealized in the 1960s, it has 

now become one of NASA’s most pressing goals for the future. In 1989 President 

George H. W. Bush tried in vain to establish support for a nuclear rocket.8

 While he 

was unable to generate congressional backing, his son, President George W. Bush, 

has been able to advance these ideas further. On 14 January 2004 Bush addressed 

his new plans for U.S. space policy to a NASA audience. He said, “Today we set 

a new course for America’s space program. We will give NASA a new focus and 

vision for future exploration. We will build new ships to carry man forward into the 

universe, to gain a new foothold on the moon and to prepare new journeys to the 

6

 Peter N. Spotts, “NASA Eyes Nuclear Rockets to Reach Deep Space,” Christian Science Monitor 

(28 February 2002).

7

 Sean O’Keefe, “Pioneering the Future,” Maxwell School of Citizenship & Public Affairs, Syracuse 

University, 12 April 2002, found at ftp://ftp.hq.nasa.gov/pub/pao/okeefe/2002/pioneering_the_

future.pdf.

8

 Peter Pae, “NASA Sets its Sights on Nuclear Rocket to Mars,” Los Angeles Times (17 January 

2003): A1.

process of dismantling all of this, and yet we all know, as you say in your testimony, 

that you do expect to get back to this type of work sometime in the eighties.”2

Alan “Hap” Johnson believed that the uncertainty of federal finances represented 

the most important lesson to be learned from examining the history of Plum Brook. 

Johnson had become director of Plum Brook in 1961 after having helped construct 

the reactor. In June 1974 he retired at age 55, along with 60 other colleagues from 

Lewis Research Center and Plum Brook, completing a 30-year career at NACA and 

NASA.3

 Looking back over his tenure at Plum Brook he said that one of the main 

lessons from the experience was that “finances as supported by Congress are ephemeral.” Without a long-term commitment to any basic research program, it can easily 

“disappear in the night.”4

 For future projects in basic research to succeed there had 

to be greater assurance that government funds would not quickly shift with changing political desires. Some people are today taking this issue seriously. Buzz Aldrin 

has recently put forth his own plan for devising a system for routine voyages to Mars 

and back. Aldrin believes that his plan’s “long-term economic advantages make it 

less susceptible to cancellation by congressional or presidential whim.”5

 It is now 

imperative that those who plan long-term missions look for ways to counteract the 

ephemeral financing and changing political support. 

Ironically, a future project that might benefit from this lesson is the new nuclear 

rocket. In the midst of the planning and preparation for the Plum Brook decommissioning there was a renewed national interest in nuclear rockets as the primary 

propulsion system for sending humans to Mars. The president of the United States, 

the NASA administrator, Congress, and space enthusiasts all began looking once 

again at the nuclear potential for taking humans into outer space. In February 2002 

journalist Peter N. Spotts described what he called the “gleam in an engineer’s eye.” 

It centered on the effort to reach the edges of our solar system with robotic craft and 

sending humans to Mars. A nuclear rocket was the vehicle that propelled both of 

these endeavors. After launch of this fictitious craft by conventional solid or liquid 

hydrogen rockets, the engineers on the Earth would verify that it was successfully in 

orbit. At that point they would then press a button activating a small trash can-sized 

nuclear reactor that would power the rocket to its destination. Spotts said, “The 

2

 George M. Low’s testimony for the House Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight, 6 March 

1973, Box 106, Folder 15, Plum Brook Archives.

3

 “More Than 60 Staffers Choose Retirement—Many Helped Make Lab What it is Today,” Lewis 

News (28 June 1974).

4

 Interview with Alan “Hap” Johnson by Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2002.

5

 Buzz Aldrin with David Noland, “Roadmap to Mars,” Polular Mechanics (December 2005): 66.
276

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Conclusion–Disappearing in the Night

goals were bold [and] the details sketchy . . . Now engineers can start sweating.”10

The nuclear rocket became an important component of that vision because it would 

increase the speed of a Mars trip, thereby reducing astronauts’ exposure to cosmic 

radiation. Petit concluded that this was an important feature of the nuclear rocket, 

as long as “fears of the rockets’ own radiation don’t put the kibosh on them.”

The result of NASA’s new attention to nuclear rockets has been the inclusion of 

Project Prometheus in President Bush’s fiscal 2004 budget. This project included 

plans for the first nuclear-electric space mission, named the Jupiter Icy Moons 

Orbiter. The task of this orbiter will be to study Jupiter’s moons that might have 

subsurface oceans and explore them for possible signs of life. Not only will the scientific return be significant, but the voyage will also be used to test the capabilities 

of this type of spacecraft and enable engineers to improve upon it for the future. 

In comparison, Voyager, Galileo, and Cassini combined had less than 5,000 watts 

of onboard power. The Jupiter mission with a nuclear reactor would have 250,000 

watts of power. The cost of this program is a proposed $279 million and $3 billion 

over five years.11

In 2005, current NASA administrator Michael Griffin conducted a town hall 

meeting at Glenn (formally Lewis) Research Center. He discussed the Vision for 

Space Exploration and the central role that nuclear rockets would play. He said, “I 

believe nuclear thermal propulsion is the most intelligent way to go to Mars. And 

development of these systems has been a historical core competency at Glenn.”12 

Since Plum Brook’s shutdown, few other reactors continued the study of the effects 

of radiation on materials in space. Many of the materials that might be used for this 

new nuclear initiative were originally tested in the Plum Brook reactor decades ago. 

Plum Brook’s basic research into the effects of radiation on materials may serve as an 

important starting point for the rejuvenated nuclear program. Though the reactor is 

now quiet, its archived data can potentially be resurrected and put to use as America 

begins a renewed quest to explore the final frontier with nuclear rockets.

Many people who worked at Plum Brook in the 1960s are excited about the 

prospect that their terminated work will be taken up again. Len Homyak said, “A 

future trip to Mars would be very practical and I think the work that we had done 

10 Charles W. Petit, “Getting There From Here,” as found in Thomas K. Grose, “Shoot the Moon,” 

U.S. News & World Report (26 January 2004): 50.

11 President George W. Bush’s Fiscal 2004 proposal, found at http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/

usbudget/budget-fy2004/nasa.html.

12 “Administrator Michael Griffin Visits Glenn Research Center, 17 May 2005, http://www.nasa.

gov/centers/glenn/about/griffin-may05.html.

worlds beyond our own.”9 Though he did not specifically mention nuclear rocket 

ships, he did emphasize the need for “new power generation” for new space vehicles. 

And though Bush’s refusal to use the word “nuclear” in any context related to the 

space program can be seen as continued wavering political support, others have 

filled in the gaps in his rhetoric. 

Less than two weeks after Bush’s January 2004 speech the major news magazines 

published detailed stories about the new vision for NASA. Time ran a cover story 

titled “Mission to Mars,” with an artist’s rendering of an astronaut in a red space 

suit planting an American flag on the surface of Mars. U.S. News & World Report 

published an article entitled “Shoot the Moon,” in which it discussed how these 

new goals would be achieved. In evaluating Bush’s plan Charles W. Petit said, “The 

9

 “President Bush Delivers Remarks on U.S. Space Policy, 14 January 2004, speech reprinted in 

NASA Facts newsletter, NASA Decommissioning Archives.

Rendering of a nuclear rocket capable of reaching the Moon in 24 hours. Drawn by Pat Rawlings (NASA) 

and Bill Gleason (SAIC). (NASA S99-04186)
278

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Conclusion–Disappearing in the Night

lent choice, he believed its biggest drawback was “Mostly political.”18 He thought 

that environmental concerns about contamination on Earth and political instability 

could easily halt any future nuclear momentum. 

Science will struggle to succeed in a state of political flux, where researchers have 

to constantly look for short-term answers for fundamental research questions. The 

future pursuit of nuclear propulsion will not thrive in this type of environment, 

nor will the quest for any other long-term scientific program. The risks of changing political visions of space are too great. Plum Brook can play a role in future 

research by serving as a warning beacon from the past. The lesson of Plum Brook is 

that politically motivated, long-term, basic scientific research that does not have an 

immediate short-term payoff can be doomed to failure. This message of the Plum 

Brook reactor could likely survive as one of its greatest legacies.

18 Michael Behar, “5 Ways to Get to Mars,” Wired (December 2004).

up until 1973 [would be] very instrumental in being able to complete that trip.”13

Jack Crooks also believed that the Plum Brook experimental results would prove 

useful. He argued, “Although, it’s dated, much of the basic physics data doesn’t 

change . . . physics is physics and it will stay that way.”14 While many of the former 

employees held out hope that nuclear rockets would one day fly, others were not as 

certain. Jim Blue said, “I am still skeptical.”15 He believed that national support for 

this type of project was still not strong enough to ensure that once begun the nuclear 

rocket would progress from research to development to flight. 

Withstanding criticism requires long-term political commitment that does not 

waver in the face of vocal protests. One CNN science reporter said, “Taking a politically risky position, the Bush plan would push the development of nuclear power 

and propulsion for future missions into space.” The reporter said that this would 

give a much-needed boost to deep-space projects that did not have a vehicle powerful enough to achieve mission success within a feasible time span, especially for trips 

to Mars. But, the reporter concluded, “it could also set off storms of protests from 

activists who called into question the safety of past nuclear probes, citing the risks 

of accidental crashes should something go wrong at launch.”16 What might help 

further secure this political commitment are new reports out of Russia of a nuclear 

rocket (the RD-0410) developed at the Khimavtomatika design bureau. Anatoliy 

Kuzin, deputy director general of the Khrunichev State Space Science and Production Centre, stated that this rocket “has already undergone Earth-based trials.”17

Furthermore, China now has its sights set on landing humans on the Moon. Will 

such international developments be used as an impetus for U.S. technological development? Time will tell. 

 The future of the new nuclear rocket is yet to be written. Whether it will be terminated by a lack of political commitment, implode because of protests by nuclear 

activists, fail for technical reasons, or succeed in taking the first humans to Mars 

remains to be seen. In December 2004 Michael Behar wrote an article in Wired 

magazine about the five best ways to get to Mars, one of which was nuclear propulsion. Behar stated that though the nuclear option was technologically an excel13 Interview with Len Homyak by Robert Arrighi, 27 September 2002.

14 Interview with Jack Crooks by Mark D. Bowles, 25 September 2002.

15 Interview with Jim Blue by Mark D. Bowles, 11 February 2002.

16 Richard Stenger, “NASA Budget Cuts Human Flight, Pushes Nukes,” (5 February 2002), at 

http://www.cnn.com/2002/TECH/space/02/04/nasa.budget/index.html.

17 Anatoliy Kuzin, quoted in “Russian Design Bureau Considers Interplanetary Space Flights,” 

BBC Monitoring Former Soviet Union (2 March 2005): 1.

Appendices

281

A. A History of Atomic and Nuclear Experimentation

The idea that all matter is made up of the discrete particles called atoms is one 

of the major discoveries in the history of science. However, the early history of the 

atom began in philosophy, not science. It started as an idea by Greek philosophers 

in the fifth century BCE and was inferred from logic and speculation, not observation. Leucippus of Miletus (435 BCE) and Democritis of Abdera (c. 410 BCE) 

developed the most well known of the first atomic theories.1

 They argued that atomlike substances existed in solids as interlocking hook-and-eye particles, in liquids as 

smooth and slippery particles, and in gases as widely dispersed, moving particles. In 

60 BCE Lucretius wrote a long poem called De Rerum Natura (On the Nature of 

Things) describing these small atoms. He wrote, “for from our senses far, the nature 

of these primal atoms lies.”2

 It is important to remember that these Greeks were not 

establishing modern atomic theory, even though they theorized about the existence 

of “atoms.” Ironically, the term atom itself comes from the Greek atomon, meaning 

“indivisible.” Although modern scientists kept the term, they came to realize that an 

entire subatomic universe exists. Far from being indivisible, atoms themselves can 

be split in the fission process that makes nuclear reactors possible.

The philosophers who conceived these early atomic ideas met with resistance 

from their contemporaries, who argued that their theories were merely unobservable speculation. Few agreed with the seemingly counterintuitive notion that solids, 

liquids, and gases were made up of discontinuous particles. Plato (365 BCE) found 

the suggestion that the soul was made up of atoms repulsive, but did postulate 

1

 G. E. R. Lloyd, Early Greek Science: Thales to Aristotle (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 

1970), p. 45.

2

 Lucretius, “On the Nature of Things,” in A. E. E. McKenzie, The Major Achievements of Science 

(Ames: Iowa State University Press, 1973), p. 436; Marshall Clagett, Greek Science in Antiquity (Salem: 

The Ayer Company, 1955), pp. 129–133.
Science in lux . . . f

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283

atomists believed in indivisibility, whereas the proponents of minima believed that 

their particles were divisible. Interestingly, they also thought that the divided particle lost its identity when split and became an entirely new substance.7

It was not until the seventeenth century that atomism came to the forefront of 

contemporary scientific belief. During this time the “Scientific Revolution,” spurred 

by the work of Galileo Galilei (1564–1642), Johannes Kepler (1571–1630), René 

Descartes (1596–1650), and Isaac Newton (1642–1727), transformed the way 

that the universe was understood. One of the dominant themes of this era was 

the mechanical philosophy of nature. Historian Richard Westfall wrote, “Drawing its inspiration from the atomists of the ancient world, the new conception of 

nature set about explaining the mechanical reality that must lie behind every phenomenon.”8

 This led to the prevalence of the “corpuscular” philosophy, the belief 

that the fabric of the universe itself was made up of minute particles of matter.9

Pierre Gassendi (1592–1655) argued that atomic theory was an important way to 

understand the mechanical universe. He was fascinated by the early Greeks and 

attempted to disassociate their ideas from a godless view of the universe. Robert 

Boyle (1627–1691) proposed his famous law, stating that the pressure of a gas is 

inversely proportional to its volume, and began accumulating the scientific data 

necessary for a new atomic theory. In describing Boyle’s law mathematically, Isaac 

Newton (1642–1727) attempted to prove that the gases were made up of mutually 

repulsive particles, where the forces between them were inversely proportional to 

their distances apart.

 John Dalton (1766–1844), who published primarily during the Enlightenment, 

was responsible for the beginnings of modern atomic theory.10 His ideas were a 

continuation of Newton’s work on repulsive particles in a gas. Dalton thought that 

because of the laws of gravitation these particles should attract each other. So he 

postulated that each particle was an atom surrounded in a globe of heat. At the time, 

heat was considered to be a repulsive fluid called caloric, and he believed that this 

explained why the particles did not attract each other. In 1803 Dalton expanded 

7

 E. J. Dijksterhuis, The Mechanization of the World Picture, trans. C. Dikshoorn (Oxford: Clarendon 

Press, 1961), pp. 205–209; Norma E. Emerton, The Scientific Reinterpretation of Form (Ithaca, NY: 

Corness University Press, 1984), pp. 85–93.

8

 Richard S. Westfall, The Construction of Modern Science: Mechanisms and Mechanics (Cambridge 

University Press, 1977), p. 120.

9

 Herbert Butterfield, The Origins of Modern Science, 1300–1800, rev. ed. (New York: Free Press, 

1957), p. 132.

10 Thomas L. Hankins, Science and the Enlightenment (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 

1985), pp. 110–112.

his own form of “geometrical atomism” made up of the five geometrical solids.3

His student Aristotle (384–322 BCE) argued against the atomic world, claiming 

that all substances were made up of earth, air, fire, and water. Galen (b. 129 AD), 

the influential physician and philosopher, believed that atoms were too much like 

unimportant bricks to make up complex, growing organisms.

The Greek achievements in natural philosophy resulted in one of the most dramatic periods of intellectual discovery in human history. Yet Greek science stagnated and died out in the West when the ability to read the Greek language was lost 

after the collapse of the Roman Empire. However, their philosophy was kept alive 

from roughly the seventh to the twelfth centuries by the efforts of Islamic intellectuals who maintained their ability to read the Greek language.4

 These Islamic 

scholars did more than passively translate and preserve Greek thought; they also 

contributed their own ideas, and during this period they revised the atomic theories of antiquity. In the tenth century the “atomist” school of thought prospered in 

Islam, yet it became more theological than scientific. Sunni theology, which arose 

during this period, had the idea of “conceptual atomism” at its core.5

 The Islamic 

alchemist Rhazes (865–925) also adopted a form of atomism that was similar to that 

proposed by Democritus. His irreducible elements included Creator, Soul, Matter, 

Time, and Space. 

New variants of atomism were not revived in the West until the Middle Ages, 

though most medieval philosophers believed in the continuity of material substances. Notable exceptions included Nicholas of Autrecourt (1298–1369), who 

attacked Aristotelian physics and replaced it with a new form of Greek atomism. 

He argued that all types of motion and change were the result of moving invisible 

and indivisible atoms.6

 It was also during this period that for the first time the indivisibility of atoms was brought into question. William of Ockham (d. circa 1349) 

proposed a new theory called “minima” or “minima naturalia,” meaning the smallest 

natural parts. This was in some ways an attempt to revive atomism since both theories held that matter was made up of particles. The key difference was that the Greek 

3

 David C. Lindberg, The Beginnings of Western Science: The European Scientific Tradition in 

Philosophical, Religious, and Institutional Context, 600 B.C. to A.D. 1450 (Chicago: University of 

Chicago Press, 1992), p. 40.

4

 David C. Lindberg, “The Transmission of Greek and Arabic Learning to the West,” Science in the 

Middle Ages, ed. Lindberg (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978), pp. 52–90.

5

 Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Science and Civilization in Islam (New York: Barnes & Noble Books, 

1992), pp. 34, 35, 46, 268, 306.

6

 Edward Grant, Physical Science in the Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 

1977), p. 32.
Science in lux . . . f

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285

(1859–1906) discovered two new elements that, like uranium, also emitted radiation. They named the first polonium, after their native country, Poland, and the 

other they called radium. They were also the first to refer to these general emissions 

as “radioactivity.” 

These observations were groundbreaking, and they resulted in a host of new 

questions about the nature of radioactivity itself. The first answers came from Ernest 

Rutherford (1871–1937), a New Zealander who began his work with J. J. Thomson 

(1856–1940) in 1894 at Trinity College, Cambridge. Thomson’s own experiments 

eventually led him to find the existence of the electron, and Rutherford identified 

two different types of rays in uranium radiation. In 1898 he called these alpha and 

beta rays. After this accomplishment he left England to accept a new position at 

McGill University in Montreal. 

While other researchers determined that the beta ray was actually Thomson’s 

electrons moving at speeds almost that of light, Rutherford began exploring what 

the alpha rays were (ten years later he would discover that the alpha rays were 

positively charged helium nuclei). This led him to develop, with Frederick Soddy 

(1877–1956), a general theory of radioactivity. Beginning work together in 1900, 

they postulated that all radioactive atoms were able to transform themselves into 

new elements by expelling alpha or beta particles. These new elements could be 

further broken down into other new elements. The radioactive energy came from 

the atom itself as it changed or, as they described it, “decayed.” For example, radium 

was actually decayed uranium. 

Further questions remained, such as when and why would a radioactive atom 

expel a particle for the transformation? Nothing they tried in the laboratory would 

influence the decay process, such as heat or cold, nor did the age of the atom matter. 

Atoms seemed to decay at the same rate if they were 1,000 years old or just newly 

formed. As a result, Rutherford and Soddy fell back on statistics to estimate the 

behavior of groups of atoms, and they devised decay rates for various types of radioactive atoms. For example, they found that for any quantity of radium, half would 

decay into radon after 1,600 years. Thus radium had a “half-life” of 1,600 years. 

Although they could predict nothing about a single atom, their discovery of the 

half-life for atomic groups was remarkable. In 1908 Rutherford and Soddy won a 

Nobel Prize for their “investigations in regard to the decay of elements and . . . the 

chemistry of radioactive substances.” Today, very little about this basic theory of 

radiation has changed. 

Rutherford then returned to Manchester, England, where he further defined the 

structure of the atom in 1909. By bombarding atoms with his alpha particles, he 

was able to determine that there was a solid mass inside the atom. In 1911 he called 

this mass the “nucleus.” The modern atomic model emerged from his work, and, 

astonishingly, it appeared to mirror the way that planets revolve around a sun. The 

upon this theory of gases and argued that atoms of different elements had different sizes and weights. To prove this, he analyzed water and found that one part of 

hydrogen combined with eight parts of oxygen. Therefore he argued that oxygen 

was eight times as heavy as the element of hydrogen. From this conjecture he began 

constructing the first table of elemental weights, with hydrogen having a value of 

one. 

Where Dalton failed was in determining how many atoms of each element combined to form a molecule. His weight of oxygen was wrong by half because he 

believed that one oxygen atom combined with one hydrogen atom in the mixture, 

not two. It was not until 1860 that Stanislao Cannizzaro (1826–1910), using a 50-

year-old hypothesis by Amedeo Avogadro (1776–1856), discovered the true atomic 

weight of the various elements, and the number of atoms that combined together in 

molecules. Through the efforts of these men the 2,000-year-old quest to prove that 

there was an atomic reality that existed beyond the human senses came to a close. 

But when the atomic nature of reality was discovered, Pandora’s box was opened, 

revealing new questions about the universe that existed inside the atom itself and 

the mysterious rays that sometimes emanated from them.

 With the efforts of Dalton, Avogadro, and Cannizzaro, modern atomic theory 

was born, but in one way it was still linked to its Greek ancestors—the atom 

remained an indivisible particle. In the 1890s atoms were still symbolized by billiard 

balls, irreducible elements that were the basic building blocks of nature. At the time 

there were fewer than four hundred physicists worldwide, and only a subset of these 

were concerned with atoms. But new discoveries soon resulted in a revolution in 

the field. A series of dramatic experiments revealed a subatomic universe filled with 

mysterious activity. Historian Daniel Kevles wrote: “At the opening of the twentieth 

century, physics was suddenly alive with new and revolutionary questions.” 11 One 

set of important questions revolved around the discovery of radiation. 

This breakthrough occurred at the end of the nineteenth century in Germany, 

France, and England. In Germany in 1895 Wilhelm Conrad Röntgen (1845–1923) 

reported that under the proper conditions an electrical discharge could produce an 

invisible radiation that he called x-rays.12 In France in 1896 Henri Becquerel (1852–

1908) found that the element uranium could also darken a photographic plate with 

its radioactive waves. In 1898 Marie Curie (1867–1934) and her husband Pierre 

11 Daniel J. Kevles, The Physicists: The History of a Scientific Community in Modern America

(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987), p. 76.

12 Otto Glasser, Wilhelm Conrad Roentgen and the Early History of Roentgen Rays (Springfield, IL: 

Charles C. Thomas, 1934), p. 45.
Science in lux . . . f

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287

detect Rutherford’s mysterious neutral particle. The road to success began in 1928 

when two Germans, Walter Bothe (1891–1957) and his student Herbert Becker, 

developed an experiment in which they used alpha particles to bombard beryllium. 

The result was that the beryllium emitted a penetrating, neutral radiation that was 

able to pierce 200 millimeters inside lead. Bothe found this “radiation of beryllium” 

to have remarkable properties. Not only could it penetrate lead, it could also pass 

through a several-centimeter brass plate without losing any significant amount of 

velocity. Furthermore, when the radiation hit other atoms, it caused them to disintegrate, much like an explosion. 

Four years later Marie Curie’s daughter, Irene Joliot-Curie (1897–1956), and 

her husband, Frederic Joliot-Curie (1900–1958), attempted to further analyze the 

radiation to discover what it was. They began by speculating that the radiation was 

similar to electromagnetic waves, called gamma radiation, and was thus photons. 

But they found something very unusual in that the radiation was able to eject a 

stream of protons from paraffin containing hydrogen. This was a curious finding 

because photons have no mass. 

When Rutherford heard about Curie’s result, he simply said, “I do not believe 

it.” The protons were being ejected with velocities that would be impossible for the 

energy stored within the radiation to cause. Could this be the mysterious neutral 

particle that he predicted back in 1920? Since 1919 Rutherford had been the head of 

the prestigious Cavendish Laboratory in Cambridge. James Chadwick (1891–1974) 

was Rutherford’s assistant, and he too found “grave difficulties” with the Curies’ 

explanation.16 He decided to replicate their experiment in a new type of detector apparatus. He selected additional targets for the beryllium radiation, including 

hydrogen, helium, and nitrogen atoms, and measured the atoms after the collision. 

Like Rutherford, he was surprised by the speed of the recoil. He predicted that 

the recoil should have been about 1.3 millimeters, but the experiment showed the 

recoil to be 3 millimeters. Chadwick then concluded that the beryllium radiation 

was not gamma radiation at all. In a letter to the British scientific journal Nature he 

wrote, “These results, and others I have obtained in the course of the work, are very 

difficult to explain.” But he did have a solution. He concluded, “The difficulties 

disappear, however, if it be assumed that the radiation consists of particles of mass 1 

and charge 0, or neutrons.”17

The discovery of the neutron is now considered one of the most significant of 

16 James Chadwick, “The Existence of a Neutron,” Proceedings of the Royal Society of London, AA 

136 (10 May 1932): 639.

17 James Chadwick, “Possible existence of a Neutron,” Nature (27 February 1932): 312.

negatively charged electrons revolved around the positively charged nucleus, which 

contained nearly all the mass of the atom in its protons (and, as they believed at the 

time, electrons). This was Rutherford’s model of the atom, called the solar-system 

model.

While Rutherford and Soddy were working on radiation, a German physicist 

named Max Planck (1858–1947) began quietly developing his revolutionary quantum theory in 1900. Of this work Paul Davies wrote that it is “remarkable that the 

greatest scientific revolution of all time has gone largely unnoticed by the general 

public [since] its implications [are] so shattering as to be almost beyond belief—even 

to the scientific revolutionaries themselves.”13 Planck studied enclosed oscillating 

electrons and their corresponding radiation, which he realized occurred in discrete 

bursts, or packets of energy. He found that the value of this energy was hv, where v

was the frequency of the exchanged energy, and h was an unchanging number that 

he called Planck’s constant.14 Planck’s “theory of radiation” held that all electromagnetic radiation, including light itself, consists of noncontinuous packets of energy. 

Using these revolutionary ideas in 1912, Niels Bohr (1885–1962), a young 

physicist who was working in Rutherford’s own laboratory in Manchester, developed a new model of the atom. Though he began his investigations using the Rutherford solar-system model, by using Planck’s quantum theory he devised a new way 

to understand the revolution of electrons around the nucleus and the emission of 

radiation. He argued that electrons were able to “spontaneously” jump from one 

orbit to another, and when they moved to a lower orbit the atom emitted a quantum 

of light, and when it moved to a higher orbit it absorbed a quantum of light, later 

called a “photon.” 

Another troubling question was the possibility that a third subatomic particle 

might exist. In 1920 Rutherford argued that there was another particle inside the 

atom that shared space with the protons.15 He postulated that this was a negatively 

charged particle with a mass that was roughly equal to that of a proton, and he 

called it the “neutron.” Experimental confirmation of this hypothesis was complicated because scientific equipment of the time could only measure particles that 

had a positive or negative charge. For the next 15 years scientists looked for ways to 

13 Paul Davies, Other Worlds: A Portrait of Nature in Rebellion: Space, Superspace and the Quantum 

Universe (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1980), pp. 9, 11.

14 I. Bernard Cohen, Revolution in Science (Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University 

Press, 1985), p. 420.

15 James Chadwick, “The Neutron and its Properties,” Nobel Lecture, 12 December 1935, found 

at http://www.nobel.se/physics/laureates/1935/chadwick-lecture.pdf.
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included Enrico Fermi (1901–1954) and Eugene Wigner (1902–1995). Szilard 

personally knew both Hahn and Strassman and believed that the German military 

might begin looking for ways to turn their work into a devastating weapon. At 

Columbia University Fermi and Wigner researched uranium fission and thought 

that they could create a chain reaction by using a pile of uranium and graphite 

blocks, but they lacked both substances to test their hypothesis. In June 1940 President Roosevelt formed the National Defense Research Committee (NDRC), with 

MIT engineer Vannevar Bush (1890–1974) as its leader. Bush was a strong proponent of the NACA style of organization with its civilian leaders at the head, and he 

decided to model the new Office of Scientific Research and Development (OSRD) 

after it. Research on the potential for a nuclear chain reaction proceeded under 

the OSRD’s Section on Uranium. Several universities pursued this work, including 

Columbia, Princeton, Chicago, and California. 

The pace of nuclear experimentation intensified after 7 December 1941, when 

the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor thrust the United States into World War II. 

Bush and the American scientific elite refocused and coordinated a massive nuclear 

research effort. The United States established the Manhattan Project in 1942, which, 

according to historian Thomas Hughes, “was unprecedented in its concentrated 

expenditure of human resources for the manufacture of a single product—atomic 

bombs.”20 The project began with scientific research at the University of Chicago in 

a place called the Metallurgical Laboratory, which was a code name to disguise the 

nuclear research that was being carried out. Arthur Compton (1892–1962), a 1927 

Nobel Prize winner in physics, organized the laboratory and was supported by the 

efforts of Fermi, Wigner, and Szilard. The president of the university looked for a 

place on campus where their research could take place. He decided to suspend the 

university’s football games and designate the west stands at Stagg Field as the site for 

the secret nuclear research.21

There beneath the football field in the squash court, Compton and his team 

built the world’s first atomic pile and the world’s first research reactor, named Chicago Pile 1 (CP-1). It consisted of 45,000 graphite bricks with 19,000 holes drilled 

into them. Uranium oxide pellets were then inserted into the holes. The eventual 

pile was 20 feet high, 6 feet wide, and 25 feet deep. The total cost, including the 

6 tons of uranium metal, 50 tons of uranium oxide, and 400 tons of graphite, was 

20 Thomas P. Hughes, American Genesis: A Century of Invention and Technological Enthusiasm, 

1870–1970 (New York: Penguin Books, 1989), p. 385.

21 For an excellent overview of the Metallurgical Laboratory, see Jack M. Holl, Argonne National 

Laboratory, 1946–96 (Urbana and Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997), pp. 1–46.

the twentieth century. After adapting the laws of conservation of momentum and 

energy to his findings, he was able to determine that the neutron had the mass of 

1.0067 that of a proton. For this work Chadwick won the Nobel Prize for physics in 

1935. Ironically, even though Irene and Frederic Joliot-Curie were incorrect about 

the nature of the beryllium radiation, that same year they won the Nobel Prize for 

chemistry, in recognition of their synthesis of new radioactive elements. In awarding 

Chadwick this honor the chairman of the Nobel committee said, “If the qualities 

of the neutron are made use of, this will certainly in the immediate future give us a 

new and deeper knowledge of matter and its transformations.”18

Just months after Chadwick’s discovery, Leo Szilard (1898–1964) was one of the 

first to envision a new use for neutrons. He conceptualized the possibility of releasing atomic energy through a chain reaction that began with the bombardment of 

neutrons. He further speculated that a devastating bomb could be made from this 

principle. One year later he fled Nazi persecution in Berlin and immigrated to Britain, where in 1934 he applied for and received a patent on an atomic bomb. In 1937 

he moved to the United States, where he took a central place in the development 

of the atomic bomb during World War II. Through Szilard’s work an important 

transformation had taken place. Theoretical subatomic physics was ready for practical applications. The nucleus of an atom held a tremendous energy reserve, which 

would be released if the atom could be split. 

Atomic politics became serious the day that German physicists Otto Hahn 

(1879–1968) and Fritz Strassman (1902–1980) at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute 

for Chemistry designed a tabletop device that split a uranium atom. This “startling 

discovery” in 1938 led many physicists worldwide to begin exploring the implications of this phenomenon, one of which was a nuclear bomb.19 When the uranium 

atom split, not only were large amounts of energy created, but neutrons were also 

released. Scientists like Szilard speculated that if the conditions were set up and controlled correctly, a chain reaction could occur with the expelled neutrons from the 

first split atom causing other nearby uranium atoms to do the same. This process 

could perpetuate itself and, if left unchecked, would unleash a terribly destructive 

power. 

This discovery occurred on the eve of World War II, when the German military 

began pressing across much of Europe. Many elite German scientists fled to the 

United States to escape the horrors of Nazi anti-Semitism. These émigré physicists 

18 H. Pleijel, “Presentation Speech for the Nobel Prize in Physics 1935,” found at http://www.

nobel.se/physics/laureates/1935/press.html.

19 Kevles, The Physicists, p. 324.
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$2.7 million. The team had to invent its own control systems for the pile, and 14 

men were designated as “the circuit group” to manage it. They used cadmium rods 

to regulate the neutron production, and an automatic safety control was put in 

place, whereby if radiation levels increased too much, the rods would be dropped 

into the pile. A manual system was also in place. The control rods were suspended 

by ropes, and people stood at several places with axes in hand. If the pile accelerated 

too quickly, they would literally cut the rope and the control rods would fall, killing 

the pile. This was called the SCRAM line, which was an acronym for Safety Control 

Rod Ax Man. This feature was later found in every nuclear reactor’s control panel as 

a large red SCRAM button. Other inventive names came from A. A. Milne’s book 

Winnie the Pooh. At the time Fermi was improving his English skills by reading this 

children’s series, and the scientists used the character names in the book, like “Roo,” 

for their instruments.

By April 1942 over 150 people were working on the project when health concerns about radioactivity became a problem. A hematologist at the university took 

blood from those who were working closely with the dangerous materials, but little 

was known about the dangers of uranium and plutonium. Wigner made the suggestion to his colleagues not to build any houses anywhere close to the pile. That 

summer a separate health division was created to protect the researchers at the Metallurgical Laboratory. This was important because the lab continued to grow in size. 

By November over 400 people worked there, and the organization was structured 

much like a university, with specialists grouped together around common interests 

and goals. Fermi was in charge of the various research groups, and Wigner managed 

15 theoreticians. 

On 2 December 1942, CP-1 was tested. Before an audience of 42 scientists 

Fermi slowly ordered the control rods pulled from the pile. It successfully operated 

at one-half-watt power for less than five minutes. Wigner celebrated by opening a 

bottle of Chianti and passing it around to those watching the momentous occasion. 

Despite the success, no one at the time knew if it was the first controlled chain reaction or not. The Germans might have beaten them to it. But after the war was over 

it became clear that on that cold December day, the squash court was home to the 

world’s first nuclear research reactor. 

Experimentation at research and test reactors in the 1950s became the next stage 

in the lineage of investigators into the atomic world. With the technology of reactor 

design understood, significant questions about the nature of radioactivity remained 

to be solved. How did other materials respond to a radioactive environment? This 

basic research required experimentation at large test facilities like those at Plum 

Brook.

B. The Fission Process and How a Test Reactor Works

 This book is written for general educated reader and assumes no prior knowledge of nuclear physics or engineering. But to understand the history of the Plum 

Brook reactor it is necessary to have some basic understanding of the atomic and 

subatomic world, nuclear fission, and the design and operation of nuclear reactors. 

This appendix is a primer on how nuclear reactors work and the ways they are 

designed. The description is general and unrelated to any specific research reactor. 

The two following sections overview the basics of reactor physics (how it works) and 

reactor engineering (how it is built). 

 Everything that we can see or touch is made up of matter, which consists of the 

basic building blocks of life called atoms. The atoms exist in 92 natural variations 

called elements. The most common elements that make up living organisms are 

hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, and oxygen. What differentiates hydrogen atoms from 

oxygen atoms is the structure inside them. Within each atom is a central core called 

the nucleus. The nucleus is made up of positively charged protons and neutral neutrons, which make up almost the entire mass of the atom. For example, if an atom 

were the size of a 150-pound person, the protons and neutrons would weigh 149 

pounds and 15 ounces. The remaining one ounce of mass would consist of the electrons. These are negatively charged particles, which orbit the nucleus. The numbers 

of protons and electrons are identical in each atom.

 The number of protons is constant for each element, and this represents the 

atomic number. For example, hydrogen always has one proton in the nucleus with 

one electron in orbit, while uranium has 92 protons in the nucleus and another 

92 electrons in orbit. But the number of neutrons is not constant for a given element. Isotopes are similar elements that have different numbers of neutrons in the 

nucleus. Oxygen, with an atomic number 8, can exist with neutrons numbering 8, 

9, or 10. The atomic mass represents the total number of protons and neutrons in 

the nucleus. This is the number commonly referred to when isotopes of a given element are being identified. For example, for the isotope uranium-238, the 238 is the 

atomic mass, representing 92 protons and 146 neutrons. 

 The majority of atoms are stable, meaning that the atomic nucleus will remain 

intact and not change over time. Though ancient alchemists looked for centuries 

to find magical methods to transmute lead into gold, these elements are stable and 

cannot be transformed. But not all atoms are stable. A select few are unstable and 

actually have the ability to change themselves into other elements by a process called 

radiation. When this change occurs, the radiation is emitted from the atom through 

four possible types of particles. Alpha radiation is identical to a helium atom, with 

two protons and two neutrons. Beta radiation is very small charged particles and 

takes the form of negatively charged electrons or positively charged particles called 
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positrons. Gamma radiation is much like radio waves or light and is emitted in photon 

packets. The final type of emission is neutron radiation, in which a neutron leaves 

the atom at very high speed. 

When radiation is emitted, the unstable atom is said to decay. New elements are 

formed in this very slow decay process. The half-life is the term used to designate 

how long it will take for a mass of unstable atoms to take its new form. This is the 

time required for one-half of the original mass of atoms to decay. The half-life of 

uranium-238 is four and a half billion years. But natural decay is not the only way 

for atoms to change form. Atoms were once thought to be indivisible, but scientists 

discovered that they could be artificially split or fissioned. Neutron radiation is very 

important in this process, because this is the how nuclear fission begins. Once this 

division occurs, the nucleus releases a large amount of kinetic energy, which is the 

source of the power unleashed in atomic bombs and nuclear reactors. 

 All nuclear reactors generate energy through the fission process. Nuclear fission 

occurs when a neutron collides with a nucleus of an atom, such as the uranium235 isotope. The result is that the original nucleus splits into two smaller atoms 

called fission fragments or products. Uranium-235 will split into barium and krypton. 

This split releases the tremendous energy contained within the original nucleus and 

causes additional neutrons to be expelled. It is this release of neutrons that makes 

a self-sustaining nuclear reaction possible. Approximately two and a half neutrons 

are released when uranium-235 is split. If these neutrons can in turn collide with 

another uranium-235 nucleus, then the entire process will begin again: a split, a 

release of energy, the formation of two new nuclei, and the release of additional 

neutrons. If sustained with a critical mass of uranium, this process is called a chain 

reaction and is located within a nuclear pile.

22

The energy release in a sustained chain reaction is enormous. One pound of 

fissioned uranium-235 is equal to the same amount of energy available in three million pounds of coal. However, this often-quoted ratio is misleading because there are 

several problems that greatly diminish the efficiency of this process. The first problem in sustaining a chain reaction is the speed of the expelled neutrons. At 20,000 

kilometers/second the fast neutrons travel so quickly that their speed decreases their 

chances of colliding with another uranium nucleus and perpetuating the chain 

reaction. Slower moving neutrons have a far better chance of colliding with other 

22 The following books and articles provide a basic overview of nuclear reactors. John G. Collier and 

Geoffrey F. Hewitt, Introduction to Nuclear Power (Washington: Hemisphere Publishing Corporation, 

1987), pp. 13–47. L. A. Ohlinger, “Engineering Aspects of Nuclear Reactors,” Nucleonics (December 

1949): 38–49. C. D. Gregg King, Nuclear Power Systems: An Introductory Text (New York: The 

Macmillan Company, 1964). Bernard L. Cohen, Before It’s Too Late: A Scientist’s Case for Nuclear 

Energy (New York: Plenum Press, 1983).

uranium atoms. The probability of collision is 1,000 times greater if the speed of 

the neutrons is reduced from 20,000 to 2 kilometers/second. This speed is nearly 

identical to the motion of the atoms themselves, which is due to thermal motions. 

Neutrons that travel at this speed are called thermal neutrons. Some nuclear reactors 

are designed to use these fast neutrons (called fast reactors), but most are designed to 

use the artificially slowed neutrons (called thermal reactors).

But the problem was how to reduce the speed of the neutrons artificially. The 

answer was to bounce the neutrons off of smaller atoms. For example, imagine a 

marble represents a neutron. If you roll the marble at a large rubber object 50 times 

its size, the marble will bounce off it and lose very little of its speed. However, if 

you roll the marble into another marble that is the same size or smaller, a significant 

portion of its kinetic energy will transfer into the stationary marble and the original 

marble will lose speed. This is the same principle by which fast neutrons can be 

converted into thermal neutrons. After roughly 20 successive collisions with a light 

hydrogen atom the fast neutron is slowed to a rate that promotes fission. This entire 

process is called moderation, and the light material, hydrogen in this case, is called 

the moderator. The moderator itself can be a solid, such as graphite, or a liquid, such 

as water. 

 A second problem is what happens to the extra neutrons that are produced. 

Every time a uranium-235 atom splits, an average of two and a half neutrons are 

expelled, and since only one neutron is absorbed every time another uranium-235 

atom splits, the remaining one and a half neutrons have to go somewhere. In an 

atomic bomb, where the goal is to produce progressively more and more energy, 

these excess neutrons are simply used to generate another split. This is called a 

supercritical system. But when the fission process needs to be controlled for energy 

production or research purposes, the reactor needs to be managed, whereby only 

one expelled neutron causes another atom to split. The other neutrons must be 

absorbed. 

If this system becomes unbalanced, with either too few or too many neutrons 

causing fission, then it will either die out or accelerate to dangerous proportions. 

The way that this process can be manipulated is through the use of control rods. 

These are usually made of boron or cadmium and are important regulators because 

these elements absorb the extra neutrons. Lowering or raising the rods into or out 

of the core controls the neutron absorption rate. The deeper they are, the more neutrons are absorbed and the reaction is slowed. The further they are pulled out, the 

more reactions take place. The technical term used to define the neutron absorption 

and production rate is called the multiplication factor k. When k equals one, then 

one neutron is absorbed for every one produced. This is the ideal state to sustain a 

chain reaction and is called a critical system. When k is less than one, then the chain 

reaction will eventually die out over time. This is called a subcritical system. When k
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is greater than one the chain reaction will increase its fission rate over time. This is 

the supercritical system that is generated in atomic bombs. 

 A third problem is that not all isotopes of uranium are fissionable. Uranium 

itself was first discovered in 1789 by German chemist Martin Klaproth, who named 

the element in honor of the planet Uranus. Uranium is a heavy, hard, and silvery 

metallic element, which is number 92 on the periodic table, and is the 48th most 

common element found in natural crustal rock. One of the main areas for uranium 

mining is the Colorado Plateau, which extends over 50,000 square miles over Colorado, Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico.23 In the 1950s its rate of uranium production was second only to that of the Belgian Congo. Natural uranium is the designation given to uranium that contains 99.3% of the isotope uranium-238 and 0.7% 

of the isotope uranium-235. 

 The problem for nuclear reactors is with these proportions. Uranium-235 is 

a fissionable isotope, whereas uranium-238 is an isotope that is not easily split or 

nonfissionable. As a result, in any one kilogram of natural uranium the fissionable 

material is only equal to about the energy from twenty tons of coal, a significant 

reduction in the amount of possible energy production. There is one solution which 

increases the energy potential by roughly 100 times. The uranium-238 isotopes 

usually absorb neutrons, unless they are moving extremely fast, and do not result 

in a split of the nucleus. But when a uranium-238 isotope absorbs one of these 

neutrons, it is changed into a new element—plutonium-239. This isotope is also 

fissionable, meaning that it can absorb neutrons and split to produce further energy 

production. This is an important part of the energy production process because in 

a thermal reactor, about 30% of all the generated energy actually comes from the 

fission of plutonium.

Another other way to increase the fissionable material from natural uranium is 

to artificially enrich it. The process of enrichment increases the amount of uranium235 and decreases the amount of uranium-238. In the United States this is done 

through the gaseous diffusion method which, in a crude analogy, is similar to sifting 

for gold in streams of water. The process begins by heating uranium hexafluoride 

(UF6

) from a solid into a gas. The gas is then sent through a series of compressors 

and converters, which have barriers with small holes in them. This is the sifter. Since 

uranium-235 has slightly less a mass than uranium-238, it passes through the barrier more easily. Two streams of gases eventually emerge, and the one with the higher 

concentration of uranium-235 is called enriched uranium, and the stream with less 

uranium-235 is called depleted uranium. The entire process increases the proportion 

of uranium-235 from 0.7% to over 20%.

23 “How Uranium is Mined,” Nucleonics (April 1952): 38.

Reactors can use either natural uranium or enriched uranium as their fuel. Natural uranium reactors are very large and expensive and require graphite or heavy water 

as the moderator. Enriched uranium reactors are much more common in the United 

States. One of the main reasons that the American nuclear energy program chose 

enriched uranium over natural uranium was that the operation cost was lower.24

 The following is an example of this entire fission process in a thermal reactor using enriched uranium, where the ideal state is to have 100 fissions produce 

another 100 fissions (see Figure 1). Each time this takes place (Step A), 259 neutrons are produced (Step B). Fifty-nine of these are lost by leakage or absorption 

into the reactor structure itself (Step C). The 200 neutrons that are left will then 

interact with the uranium fuel. Since only a small fraction of this fuel is the fissile uranium-235, this isotope absorbs 78 neutrons (Step D). Not every absorption 

results in a split, and only 63 fissions occur (Step E).25 At the same time the nonfissile uranium-238 isotope absorbs 63 neutrons (Step F) and produces just five fissions (Step G), because, as stated earlier, this isotope can only be split with neutrons 

traveling at a very high rate of speed. However, in this process of absorption another 

element is produced—plutonium-239 (Step H). This is very important because it 

is a fissile isotope and absorbs 59 neutrons (Step I). The product of this absorption 

is 32 plutonium fissions (Step J).26 The final result of these three fissions (32 plutonium + 63 U235 + 5 U238) equals another 100 fissions (Step K), and the chain reaction begins all over again. This entire process, taking place in a nuclear pile, results 

in intense fields of radiation, which are generated by test reactors for research and 

experimental purposes.

C. How a Test Reactor is Designed

The nuclear pile itself, where the fission process takes place, has a fairly simple 

design. Piles can be built in any size or shape and can be as small as an apple or as 

large as a house. Their shape also can be any geometric solid (sphere, cube, etc.), as 

long as its height, width, and depth are of relatively the same proportion. Despite 

the variety of sizes and shapes, there are only two main classifications of piles. The 

first type of pile considers the energy that is generated a waste product. This is how 

research and test reactors operate, since their primary function is to create neutrons 

24 Chauncey Starr, “The Case for Enriched Uranium,” Nucleonics (August 1958): 86.

25 Fifteen of the neutrons produce nonfissile uranium-236.

26 The neutrons that are absorbed form higher plutonium isotopes, including plutonium-240, 

plutonium-241, etc.
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for research. The term neutron flux describes the number of neutrons that cross a 

particular area (a square centimeter) over a given time. It essentially refers to the 

density of neutrons and is an extremely important measure of the efficiency of a 

test reactor.

The second type of pile converts the energy produced into usable forms. This is 

the purpose of power reactors. For energy-producing nuclear reactors the pile generates heat, which can easily be converted to other usable forms of energy, such as electricity. This process is accomplished by passing water in the primary loop through 

the core, which heats the water. The water then proceeds to a heat exchanger or 

boiler, where the water is converted into steam. The steam is then passed through 

a turbine, which drives a generator and produces electricity. When the steam leaves 

the turbine, it goes to a condenser and is returned as water back to the feed pumps. 

It is in this way that nuclear reactors generate electricity. The nuclear reactor is 

simply an extremely efficient steam generator, and it is this process that is the basis 

for all energy-producing reactors.

At the center of both power and test reactors is the active core, which is where the 

nuclear fuel or fissionable material is located. It is here that the chain reaction occurs 

and all the energy is released. The fuel can be a variety of isotopes, as mentioned 

previously, including uranium-235, uranium-238, or plutonium. The fuel can also 

take the form of a number of shapes since all of the fuels are metallic and can be 

worked like any other metal. These shapes include tubes, balls, sheets, long rods, or 

short slugs. They can also be powdered or alloyed with other metals. 

A reflector surrounds the core, which is a thin blanket of material. Its function 

is to prevent neutrons from leaving the pile by keeping them close to the core. The 

reflector can save some of these neutrons, but some do escape and leak out of the 

pile. Unlike in other forms of energy production, waste products (the fission fragments) from the reactor process remain inside the fuel itself. This can be a problem 

because the waste is usually considered a poison, since it robs the chain reaction 

of needed neutrons. Furthermore, the waste products are also highly radioactive, 

resulting in long-term radioactive contamination. 

Shielding is used to contain the radiation around the reactor core. This is usually 

made up of steel, water, and concrete. These all are able to effectively block gamma, 

beta, and neutron radiation that results from the chain reaction. One problem with 

the shielding is that it gets very hot because of the radiation and requires cooling. 

To reduce the heat, a coolant mechanism is used, normally water, to carry away the 

heat. The shielding is important most of all for protecting people from the dangerous effects of radiation.

There are several ways that all of these design pieces are brought together to 

make a nuclear reactor. Within the category of research and test reactors there are 

several subclassifications. Experimental reactors and critical-assembly facilities are used 
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Despite the ability to direct radiation through the use of beam holes, there were 

some results of the radiation that could not be controlled. For example, the radiation was harmful to the reactor equipment itself because of a phenomenon called 

radiation damage. This phenomenon was discovered in 1946 by Eugene Wigner and 

was known as the Wigner Effect.29 What made this problem more difficult was that 

the damage occurred to the materials before any direct observations could be made. 

Radiation damage occurred every time that radiation interacted with matter.30 The 

interaction caused several things to happen, including the displacement of atoms 

from their equilibrium positions, the creation of temporary high-temperature 

regions, the introduction of impurities due to decay, and the breaking of chemical 

bonds and the formation of free radicals.

D. Other Research Facilities at Plum Brook

 The Plum Brook Reactor was only one of the various test facilities at Plum 

Brook Station. All of its main testing facilities were completed in the 1960s for 

a total cost of $120,886,712.31 The Spacecraft Propulsion Research Facility (B-2) 

was one of its most unique and important facilities. Completed in 1968 at a cost of 

$14,633,348, it was capable of testing space vehicles, especially upper stage rockets 

like the Centaur, in a simulated space environment. The large vacuum test chamber 

could accommodate vehicles as large as 22 feet in diameter and 50 feet in length. 

The facility stood 74 feet high, and it extended 176 feet below ground.32 It could 

simulate the cold temperatures of space and heat from the sun that a spacecraft 

encountered while orbiting 100 miles above Earth. These temperature conditions 

were possible while the engines were firing, which replicated the actual operating 

conditions in space. The liquid nitrogen–cooled walls could reach temperatures of 

-320°F found in space, and quartz-lamp thermal simulators mimicked the heat of 

the sun. Its program accomplishments included test firing of the improved Centaur, 

secret Air Force rocket plume studies, and federal records recovery (drying out 40 

29 E. P. Wigner, Journal of Applied Physics 17 (1946): 857.

30 F. Steitz, Discussions Faraday Society 5 (1949): 271.

31 “Plum Brook Station Research Facilities,” 10 January 1986, Box 106, Folder 1, Plum Brook 

Archives.

32 Interview with Robert Kozar by Virginia Dawson and Mark D. Bowles, 20 March 2000.

mainly to test design concepts for future (often power) reactors. Although they are 

essentially for research, they are not built primarily as radiation sources for scientific 

experimentation. Generally the research reactor is designed simply to produce neutrons for scientific research. 

In the 1950s there were four main types of research reactor designs. These 

included the large graphite pile, the water boiler, the tank type, and the open pool. 

The graphite pile reactors were first used in Fermi’s early Chicago Pile-type experiments. They required several tons of graphite, had roughly a 25-foot cubed core, 

and used natural uranium as the fuel. Although the costs were high, the advantage 

of this type of reactor was that it had a large amount of space for scientific experiments. Heavy-water-moderated reactors also used natural uranium and were smaller 

than the graphite reactor, but more expensive because of the cost of the heavy water 

itself. These were soon joined by other design options. Water boilers were small reactors that used a light-water solution of uranyl sulfate or uranyl nitrate. The main 

advantage of this type was that it had a low cost and had a small critical mass. The 

problem was that it produced highly radioactive and corrosive liquids and it was 

capable of only a moderate power level (30 to 50 kilowatts). The tank-type reactor 

overcame the low power of the water boiler. It used heavy water as the moderator 

and coolant, which provided a five to ten times greater neutron flux. A similar type 

was the open pool reactor. Essentially in this design the fuel was suspended in a pool 

of light water, where the water became the coolant, moderator, and shield. The 

main advantages of this type of design were that it had a low operating cost, the 

fission products remained in the fuel, and it was extremely flexible for a variety of 

research purposes. It main problem was that it had a larger critical mass.27

One of the main concerns in the design of any type of research reactor was how 

to get the experiments near the core to be exposed to radiation. There were two 

main types of experimental access to the core. The first was by the use of beam 

tubes. These were horizontal or vertical openings that went through the shield and 

reflector into the core. The neutron streams could then be sent through the tubes in 

beams to strike objects outside the core, or experiments could be placed in the tubes 

themselves. A typical reactor had between 3 and 16 beam tubes that were under 

a foot in diameter each. A second approach was the rabbit tube. These were small 

tubes inside which materials could be placed and then shot hydraulically or pneumatically through small beam tubes toward the core, where they were irradiated for 

a specified length of time.28

27 William M. Breazeale, “Research Reactors: Selection and Operation,” Nucleonics (November 

1956): 77.

28 Marvin Fox, “Use of a Reactor for Research,” Nucleonics (June 1953): 46–48.
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hydrogen research pumps. These pumps could be tested at various speeds of up 

to 60,000 revolutions per minute. The data were then used to help design liquid 

hydrogen pumps for both chemical and nuclear rockets. The liquid hydrogen itself 

was shipped to the research pump in 34,400-gallon railroad dewars.36 The Hydraulics Lab recorded data on cryogenic and other liquids as they passed through various test setups. The cryogenic liquids were low-temperature fluids such as liquid 

hydrogen and liquid nitrogen. The experiments yielded new information about 

fluid flow conditions. Other tests used an experimental water-to-liquid-hydrogen 

heat exchanger. 

 The Control and Instrument Building was a reinforced concrete structure that 

housed the control equipment and data-recording instruments for five Plum Brook 

test sites. Over 13,500 electrical lines, looking like a gigantic spider’s web, entered 

the building. This was an important site because, due to the danger posed by many 

of the Plum Brook tests, no one was actually permitted on the grounds of the testing 

facility itself. Engineers retreated to this control building to remotely monitor by 

closed-circuit television and then operate the experiments. A second Control and 

Instrument Building was required for the Hypersonic Tunnel Facility, the Rocket 

Engine Dynamics Facility, and the High Energy Rocket Engine Research Facility. 

 The Hypersonic Tunnel Facility was completed in 1966 at a cost of $6,088,179.37

It was capable of creating air velocities and temperatures that simulated flight speeds 

of seven times the speed of sound at an altitude of 120,000 feet. The 10-footdiameter and 40-foot-high heat exchanger could heat 128 pounds of nitrogen gas 

per second to 4,000°F. The test chamber itself was 25 feet in diameter and 21 feet 

high. Its primary research area was the Hypersonic Ramjet Program based out of 

Langley. This facility enabled engine firings tested at Mach 5, 6, and 7. The High 

Energy Rocket Engine Research Facility (B-1) was constructed to test propellant 

systems at altitude conditions. It was capable of various types of research, including 

turbo-pump tests, examination of fluid instabilities in the engine flow passages, and 

equipment performance evaluations. It was used to evaluate the Centaur rocket and 

the NERVA rocket. 

 The Turbo Pump Site (C-Site) supported research on liquid hydrogen turbopumps and pump inducers. One of the main investigations was an exploration into 

the development of a pump that could efficiently operate in boiling hydrogen. The 

pump inducer was submerged in a 2,500-gallon stainless-steel, vacuum-jacketed, 

36 “Plum Brook Station,” The Charles E. Frohman Collection, Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential 

Center Archives.

37 “Plum Brook Station Research Facilities,” 10 January 1986, Box 106, Folder 1, Plum Brook 

Archives.

truckloads of vital federal records that were nearly destroyed in a flood).33

 The Cryogenic Propellant Tank Site (K-Site) was converted in 1965 from an 

unused steam power plant building that was left over from the Plum Brook Ordnance Works days. At a cost of $438,195 the renovations included removing all of 

the power plant equipment and replacing it with a 25-foot-diameter spherical tank 

with an access door that had a 20-foot diameter.34 The tank was a test chamber for 

liquid hydrogen rocket fuel tanks. This was important because deep-space endeavors required high-energy cryogenic fuel that had to be stored at very low temperatures, -425°F. This facility became essential for testing insulation systems and for 

determining pressurizing gas requirements. During a test a 10,000-pound hydraulic 

actuator shook the rocket tank fuels, which provided essential experimental data.35

 The Controls and Turbine Test Site was originally developed to test research 

turbines. These turbines were used to power rocket propellant pumps for chemical 

and nuclear engines. Later this facility was used for developing and testing control 

systems for other Plum Brook test sites. It provided the electrical, pneumatic, and 

hydraulic power these sites required. Another feature of this facility was a very small 

space simulation chamber. It could test system components in a high vacuum and 

at very low temperatures, to -300°F.

 The Rocket Dynamics and Control Facility (B-3) was the tallest building at 

Plum Brook at 200 feet. It was used for altitude tests for large rocket engines destined for interplanetary travel. For example, it tested the structural integrity of the 

Centaur-Viking spacecraft and its protective shroud. In front of the facility was a 

200,000-gallon liquid hydrogen tank. It also played a part in NERVA experiments 

with turbo-pump tests and feed systems work. 

The 144-foot-tall Dynamics Research Test Center (E Site), also called the “shake 

tower,” was the second tallest building at Plum Brook. It was equipped with electromagnetic shake devices that could simulate the various forces encountered by 

spacecraft both during launch and while in flight. This site played an essential role 

in testing the Atlas-Centaur rocket and providing the data necessary to ensure that 

the rocket would survive the forces of its own launch. Before the first controlled 

landing on the Moon in the Surveyor program, this facility tested an entire Centaur 

rocket, mated with an Atlas, along with a test model of the Surveyor spacecraft. 

 The Liquid Hydrogen Pump Site was used to test a variety of designs for liquid 

33 “Simulators Expand Space Role,” Lewis News (10 October 1969), Glenn Research Center 

Archives.

34 “Plum Brook Station Research Facilities,” 10 January 1986, Box 106, Folder 1, Plum Brook 

Archives.

35 “Plum Brook Station Tour Brochure,” unprocessed Plum Brook Archives.
Science in lux . . . f

302

Appendices

303

E. Interviews Conducted for this Book

Name Position at Plum Brook

John Acomb, Instrument Development Section, Head

H. Brock Barkley, Plum Brook Reactor Facility, Chief

Eric Bertrand, Operations Supervisor for Decommissioning, Mota Corp. 

John Blakeman, Plum Brook Restoration Advisory Board, member

Jim Blue, Radiations Physics Branch, Chief

Donald Bogart, Reactor Physics Branch, Chief

Jan Bohne, Plum Brook Restoration Advisory Board, member

Mark Bohne, Plum Brook Restoration Advisory Board, member

Steven Borbash, Reactor Operations Section

Earl Boitel, Experimental Equipment Section

Jack Crooks, Process Systems Section

A. Bert Davis, Plum Brook Reactor Facility, Chief

Robert DeFayette, Radiochemistry Section, Head

Robert Didelot, Operations Branch, Shift Supervisor

Lee Early, Laboratory Analysis

Harold Finger, Space Nuclear Propulsion Office, Manager

Tom Fox, Experimental Reactor Physics Section, Head

Harry Gerard, Field Supervisor, Mota Corporation

Jim Greer, Control Room, Operator

Ruth Hasse, Facility Secretary for Plum Brook Reactor

Len Homyak, Project Engineer

Alan “Hap” Johnson, Plum Brook Reactor Facility, Chief

Tom Junod, Radiation Safety Officer

Rosalie Oldrieve, the wife of hot laboratory supervisor, Robert Oldrieve

Keith Peecook, Senior Project Engineer for Plum Brook Decommissioning

Hank Pfanner, Plum Brook Controls Engineer, Reactor Manager

Tim Polich, Reactor Decommissioning Project, Manager

Don Rhodes, Reactor Operator, Supervisor

Frank Rom, Propulsion Concepts Branch, Chief

Jack Ross, Health Physics, Manager

Joseph Savino, Process Systems Section

Dick Schuh, Nuclear Support Branch, Chief

Dean Sheibley, Radiochemistry Section, Head

Gary Snyder, Project Engineering Office, Assistant Chief

Myrna Steel, Nuclear Experiments Section

William Stokes, Hot Laboratory, Operator

Starr Truscott, Plum Brook, Administrator

Don Young, Health Physics, Technician

liquid hydrogen tank. 

 The Fluorine Pump Site tested liquid fluorine pumps that were capable of speeds 

of up to 20,000 revolutions per minute and flow rates of 50 pounds per second. 

Fluorine was the most active oxidizer and was very important for developing efficient chemical rockets. This was the first high-pressure fluorine pump facility in the 

United States.38 The Oxidizer Hydraulics Lab enabled further research on high-performance oxidizers like oxygen and fluorine. Since both could violently react with 

other materials, the oxidizer system components had to be tested before the engines 

were actually constructed. This lab consisted of a 38-foot-diameter containment 

vessel that housed a research test loop where materials could be evaluated while they 

were being exposed to liquid fluorine or liquid oxygen at 1,200 pounds per square 

inch, at temperatures as low as –300°F. 

Of all of the testing sites at Plum Brook the Space Power Facility (SPF) attained 

the widest international acclaim and use because it was the largest controlled-environment test chamber in the world (100 feet in diameter and 122 feet tall, a highvacuum volume of 800,000 cubic feet).39 The SPF was completed in 1968 and was 

the most expensive facility at Plum Brook, constructed for $30,601,890.40 It was 

also the only large vacuum chamber in the United States that was capable of testing 

nuclear reactors. It was surrounded by a 6- to 7-foot concrete shell that enabled a 

15-megawatt nuclear reactor to operate safely.41 However, this capability was never 

utilized, and only non-nuclear tests were ever conducted within the massive structure. Inside the chamber, spacecraft and their subsystems could be evaluated in a 

simulated space environment. Giant 50-foot by 50-foot doors permitted large rockets to be wheeled inside. It was the last of the Plum Brook facilities to be built when 

it was finished in 1969. Its key accomplishments included a Skylab shroud test, a 

Shuttle base heating experiment, and a Titan-Centaur shroud and liquid oxygen 

test. One additional site, the Engineering Building, housed the main administrative 

activities at Plum Brook. It also included a cafeteria, classrooms, a library, and an 

assembly area.

38 “The 1973 Plum Brook Station Nature Tour,” The Charles E. Frohman Collection, Rutherford 

B. Hayes Presidential Center Archives.

39 “Capabilities and Facilities of the Plum Brook Station,” NASA-Glenn Research Center, 

unprocessed records.

40 “Plum Brook Station Research Facilities,” 10 January 1986, Box 106, Folder 1, Plum Brook 

Archives.

41 “Simulators Expand Space Role,” Lewis News (10 October 1969), Glenn Research Center 

Archives.
Science in lux . . . f

304

About the Author

Mark D. Bowles received his B.A. in Psychology (1991) and M.A. in History 

(1993) from the University of Akron. While working on his dissertation, he was 

the Tomash Fellow (1997–1998) at the Charles Babbage Institute at the University of Minnesota. He earned his Ph.D. in the History of Technology and Science 

(1999) from Case Western Reserve University and his MBA in Technology Management from the University of Phoenix (2005). From 1996 to 2004 he was a 

principal at History Enterprises, Inc., where he coauthored three books with Dr. 

Virginia Dawson. Among them was Taming Liquid Hydrogen (2004), a history of 

the Centaur upper-stage rocket, which won the American Institute of Aeronautics 

and Astronautics’ 2004 History Manuscript Award. He is currently an officer at 

Tech Pro, Inc., where he is writing a history of polymer science and engineering. He 

has been married to his wife Nancy for 15 years. They are raising their five-year-old 

daughter Isabelle. He can be reached at mark.bowles@case.edu.
Index

305

2001: A Space Odyssey 215

A

Abbott & Costello 29

Acomb, John 60, 79, 148, 149, 163, 303

Advanced Research Projects Agency (ARPA) 140

Advisory Committee on Reactor Safeguards 124

AEC Reactor Safeguards Committee 57, 168

AEC reactor training school 50, 51

Aerojet General 85-87

Air Corps 5

Air Force 38, 40-42, 55, 57, 78, 232, 299

Aircraft Nuclear Propulsion (ANP) 39, 41, 52, 54, 73, 74, 77, 78

ALARA (As Low As Reasonably Achievable) 260

Alchemy 171, 282

Aldrin, Buzz 274

Alexsandrov, Anatolii 40

American Legion 27

Ames Laboratory 248

Apollo xxii, 84, 138, 140, 144, 148, 159, 214-216, 219, 223

Argonne National Laboratory xvii, xxv, 45, 48-52, 87, 88, 232, 237, 252, 259

Arianne rocket vii

Aristotle 282

Army 6, 19, 25, 27, 32, 38, 146, 263, 264, 265

Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) 252, 262, 263, 265, 266

Atlas-Centaur 300

Atomic bomb 36, 38, 40, 50, 53, 117, 173, 288, 289, 293, 294

Atomic Energy Act of 1954 92, 176

Atomic Energy Commission (AEC) xxiv, 38, 39, 41, 44-46, 50, 53, 55, 79, 80, 

82, 84, 86, 88, 89, 91, 92, 101, 102, 121, 123, 124, 140-142, 168, 175, 

176, 187, 196, 199, 207-209, 225, 232, 233, 236, 238, 239, 241, 243, 251
Science in lux . . . f

306

Index

307

Bohne, Janet 182, 258, 266, 303

Bohne, Mark 261, 266, 303

Bohr, Niels 286

Boitel, Earl xviii, xix, 95, 104, 107, 112, 122, 147, 148, 164, 165, 182, 184, 

185, 187, 188, 193, 225, 228, 239, 303

Bonn, John 186

Borbash, Steven 70, 71, 146, 163, 164, 303

Bothe, Walter 287

Bouy, Anna 21

Bouy, Frank J. 22

Bowles, Donald L. 31

Boyle, Robert 283

Bozek, John M. 137

Braig, James R. 67

Brick Tavern 13

Brookhaven National Laboratory xvii, xxv, 45, 52, 180, 181, 236, 237

Brown, Dan vii, x

Brown, Dayne H. 199

Brussard, Robert W. 81, 82

Buoy, Joyce 212, 213

Burton, Harold 16

Bush, George H. W. 275

Bush, George W. xxviii, 275-278

Bush, Vannevar xxvii, 289

Byers, Eben M. 173

C

Cagle, C.D. 193, 195

California Research and Development Company 52

California Research Corporation 52

Campbell, Donald J. 253

Cannizzaro, Stanislao 284

Cannon, Clarence 86

Carpenter, Scott 187

Carswell Air Force Base 35

Case Institute of Technology 60

Case Western Reserve University 157

Cassini mission 277

Castro, Fidel 182

Cavendish Laboratory 287

Atomics International 121, 237

Atomism 282, 283

Atoms for Peace 44

Ausmus, Reinhardt N. 257

Autrecourt, Nicholas of 282

Avogadro, Amedeo 284

B

Badger, E.H. and Sons Company 16, 18

Balfour, M.G. 135

Ball, Loren 228, 229

Baltimore & Ohio Railroad 11, 16

Barkley, H. Brock 103, 104, 120, 125, 126, 131, 132, 143, 147, 148, 164, 165, 

182, 186, 189, 223, 267, 303

Barnwell Disposal Facility 255

Basic research 119, 125-127, 129, 131, 136

Batelle Memorial Institute 151

Batman 173

Battelle Memorial Institute 230

Baughman, John R. 202

Baum, Fred C. 1, 2, 21, 23

Baumhart, A.D. 16, 17, 56-57, 63, 64

Bean, Gordon 138

Beatty, George D. 22

Becker, Herbert 287

Becquerel, Henri 284

Been, Julian F. 139

Behar, Michael 278

Belsterli, William 202

Bertrand, Eric 303

Betts, Jackson E. 211

Big science 44, 45

Biles, Martin B. 180

Bisplinghoff, Raymond L. 89, 187

Blakeman, John 258, 303

Blaw-Knox Construction Company 51

Blotzer, Mike 269

Blue, Jim 59, 60, 129, 162, 163, 206, 221, 233, 278, 303

Bogart Cemetery Annex 25

Bogart, Donald 60, 162, 303
Science in lux . . . f

308

Index

309

Cyclotron 54, 59, 233

D

D’Antonio, Michael 168, 208

Dalton, John 283, 284

Darley, John W., Jr. 76

Davies, Paul 286

Davis, A. Bert xxv, 95, 98, 101, 124, 145, 164, 180, 224, 225, 239, 241, 303

Davis-Besse Nuclear Power Plant 238

Dawson, Virginia 53, 221

Deception Point vii

Declaration of Taking Act 20

Deering, Fred 211, 213

DeFayette, Robert 98, 107, 148, 163-165, 184, 228, 237, 240, 303

Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) 273

Defense Environmental Restoration Program 265, 266

Democritis of Abdera 281, 282

Department of Agriculture 141, 145

Department of Defense 43, 64, 232, 265

Department of Energy 248, 252, 273

Department of Justice 19

Descartes, René 283

Detroit Cup Plant 6, 7

Dewar, James 89, 225

Didelot, Robert 97, 165, 228, 241, 303

Donoughe, Patrick 120, 184

Dose 174, 176, 179, 195, 199

Dosimeter ix, x, xvi, 195, 199, 261

Douglas Aircraft Company 81

Dounreay Fast Reactor xviii, xix, 99

Dryden Plan 222

Dryden, Hugh L. 62, 80, 89

Dugan, John V. 231

Duke Engineering Services 252

Dwelle, William 211

E

Early, Lee 196-199, 303

Earth Day 141

CBS Corporation 251

Cedar Point 18, 112

Centaur rocket 222, 226, 299, 300-302

Central Erie Supply and Elevator Association 13

Central Research Labs 109

Cernan, Eugene 215-217

Chadwick, James 287, 288

Chain reaction 290, 292, 297

Chalk River Laboratories 99

Chemical Warfare Service 5

Cherenkov radiation 184, 185

Chernobyl 40, 257

Chicago Pile 49, 289, 290, 298

Chickasaw Ordnance Works 6, 7

Christopher, Sister Mary 187

Clean Air Act 142, 145, 251

Clean Water Act 251

Cleveland Clinic Foundation 122, 233

Cleveland State University 232

Coast Guard 6

Cold War xvii, xxi, xxiv, 35, 36, 40, 46, 68, 74, 76, 82, 169, 180, 181

Coleman, Kevin 253

Columbia River 270

Columbia University 289

Commitment (to science by government) xxvi-xxix, 210, 223, 234, 236, 244, 

273-279 

Compton, Arthur 289

Connecticut Aircraft Nuclear Engineering Laboratory (CANEL) 78

Constitution, United States 21

Contamination (definition) 174

Control drum actuators 133, 135

Convair 40, 57

Convair B-36 Bomber 35-37, 78

Corpuscular philosophy 283

Cortright, Edgar 61

Crooks, Jack 92, 147, 148, 163-165, 254, 278, 303

Cryogenic studies 119, 123, 126-133, 148, 149, 150, 160

Curie, Marie 284, 285, 287

Curie, Pierre 284, 285

Cutie Pie Radiation Detector 197
Science in lux . . . f

310

Index

311

Ford Motor Company 177

Ford, Gerald R. 236

Fox, Tom 93, 162, 163, 303

Frankenstein 173

Friendship 7 spacecraft 275

Fuel element 139

Fuel pins 135, 146, 151, 156, 159, 161

G

Gagarin, Yuri xxi

Galen 282

Galilei, Galileo 283

Galileo mission 277

Gassendi, Pierre 283

General Atomics 251

General Dynamics 157

General Electric xviii, 40, 52, 54, 57, 76, 78, 98, 121, 126, 140, 151, 154

General Motors 177

Geometrical atomism 282

Georgia Institute of Technology 251

Gerard, Harry 303

Gerdner, Dan 227

Giesler, Harold 93, 95, 163

Gleason, Bill 276

Glenn Research Center (see also Lewis Research Center) 246, 253, 254, 277

Glenn Research Center Environmental Management Office 269

Glenn, John 187, 246, 275

Glennan, Keith 91, 187

Godlewski, Michael P. 137

Godzilla 173

Gopher Ordnance Works 8, 15

Gowan, George 227

Graphite pile reactor 298

Great Society 226

Green Movement 141

Greer, Clyde 95

Greer, Jim 104, 189, 190, 206, 228, 238, 303

Griffin, Michael 277

Grissom, Gus 187

Grover, George 139

Ehrike, Kraft 81 

Eisenhower, Dwight D. 39, 41-44, 74-76, 78, 136

Ellett, J.H. 32

Eminent domain 2, 15, 21, 210

Endangered Species Act 268 

Energy crisis 244

Energy Reorganization Act 236, 237

Energy Research Development Administration 237, 242, 244 

Engineering (definition) xxvii, 58

Engineering Test Reactor xviii, xix, 90, 98

Enlightenment 283

Ennis Richard 256

Envirocare of Utah 255

Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) xxviii, 120, 141, 142, 144, 146, 208, 

230, 231-233, 251, 260, 264, 265

Erie Canal 3

Erikson, Kai 167

Etzel, Rev. Raymond 63

Evans, Ronald 217

Experimental Breeder Reactor (EBR) 50

Experimental reactor 297

Experiments Standards Guide 125

F

Fairchild Engine & Airplane Corporation 38, 77

Fast neutrons 106, 135, 292

Faust 173

Fecych, William 95, 121, 124, 163, 165, 227-229

Federal Environmental Pesticide Control Act 142

Feger, Arthur 213

Fermi, Enrico 49, 118, 289, 290, 298

Fermilab 273

Fifth Amendment 21

Film badge 199

Final Hazards Summary 176-180

Finger, Harold B. 54, 60, 80, 86, 88, 89, 109, 149, 187, 236, 303

Firelands 3, 5, 34, 269

Firelands Community College (Bowling Green State University) 240, 259

Fletcher, James C. 220, 222, 223, 226, 230, 231, 233, 273

Fluor Corporation 51
Science in lux . . . f

312

Index

313

I

Institute for Advanced Study 82

Institute of Physics & Power Engineering xxi

International Commission on Radiation Protection (ICRP) 260

International Space Station vii

Iowa State University 251

Irradiation xv, 51, 62, 106, 107 J

Jackass Flats 84

James, Floren 211

John Carroll University 232

Johns Hopkins University 81 Johnson, Alan “Hap” xxvi, 59, 63, 66, 100, 104, 120, 122, 162, 163, 179, 180, 

207, 210, 230, 238, 239, 274, 303

Johnson, Lyndon 219, 226

Joint Atomic Energy Subcommittee on Research and Development 42

Joint Committee on Atomic Energy 40

Joliot-Curie, Frederic 287, 288

Joliot-Curie, Irene 287, 288

Josephson, Paul R. xxv, 76, 267

Junod, Tom ix, 163-165, 193, 194, 209, 241, 303

Jupiter Icy Moons Orbiter 277 K

Kaempffert, Waldemar 170, 171

Kaiser Wilhelm Institute 81, 288

Kaufman, Sam xxvi, 59, 60, 162

Kelpler, Johannes 283

Kendall, Henry 141 Kennedy, John F. xx, xxi, xxviii, 36, 75, 78-80, 109, 111, 173, 181, 216, 217, 

275

Kent State University 150

Kevles, Daniel 284

Khrunichev State Space Science and Production Centre 278

Kilroy Structural Steel Company 67

KIWI 84, 87

Klaproth, Martin 294

Kozar, Robert vii, 165, 218, 257

Gusterson, Hugh 58 H

Hahn, Otto 288, 289

Hahn, Otto 81

Half-life 285

Hallman, Theodore “Ted” 59, 60, 162, 163

Hammond Iron Works 67

Hanford Engineer Works 268, 270

Hanford Engineering Development Laboratory 237

Hansen, Art 60

Harmon, Leonard 76

Harris, Payne S. 39

Harvard University 208

Hasse, Ruth 90, 303

Hawthorne, Nathanial 245, 249, 266

Health physics x, xvi, 193-197, 199, 200, 203, 205, 209, 243

Hechler, Kenneth William 212

Hecht, Gabrielle xxv

Hermes, Emma A. 22

Hermes, Robert 211

Hevesy, Georg 143

Hicks, Bruce 53

High Energy Astronomy Observatory (HEAO) 226, 235

Hill, L.C. 12

Hiroshima 31

Hitler, Adolf 23, 24

Hoff, Joan 219

Holl, Jack M. 52

Homyak, Leonard 164, 165, 192, 228, 277, 303

Horwith, Abner 107

Hot Lab xv, xvi, 110

House Science and Technology Committee xxvii

House Space Committee 89

Hudson River 4

Huffman, John R. 51

Hughes, Thomas 216, 289

Humble, Leroy V. 122

Hunsaker, Jerome C. 41

Hypersonic Ramjet Program 301
Science in lux . . . f

314

Index

315

Mars Climate Observer 247

Mars mission x, xxviii, 84, 136, 230, 274-278

Mars Pathfinder vii

Marshall Space Flight Center 87-89

Marx, Leo 266, 267

Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) xviii, 38, 77, 122, 289

Materials Test Reactor (MTR) 48, 50-52, 57, 59, 62, 63, 71, 98, 182, 236

McCone, John A. 91

McCurdy, Howard E. xxv

McCutheon, Dale 227

McDougall, Walter 52, 53, 219

McElroy, Neil H. 43

McGill University 285

Metallurgical Laboratory 49, 289, 290

Michel, Joseph and Martha 22

Milne, A.A. 290

Minima naturalia 282, 283

Mock-Up Reactor 61, 72, 99, 100-103, 135, 180, 240, 251, 254

Monsanto Chemical Company 52

Montgomery Watson Harza 252

Moon mission xxviii, 80, 215, 216, 275, 276, 278, 300

Morris, William 13, 14, 19

Mortensen, B. Kim 208

Mosher, Charles A. xxvii, xxviii, 91, 210, 214, 230, 231, 234, 273

MOTA Corporation 252

Mothball (standby) xxiii, 225, 226, 238-244, 269

Multifaceted Community Relations Plan 260

Multiplication factor k 293

N

NACA xxiii, xxv, 41, 52, 53, 66, 74, 75, 126, 168, 221, 222, 274, 289

Nagasaki 31

National Academy of Sciences 80

National Air and Space Museum 254

National Cancer Institute 233

National Committee on Radiation Protection (NCRP) 176

National Council on Radiation Protection and Measurement (NCRP) 260

National Defense Act 5

National Defense Research Committee (NDRC) 289

National Environmental Protection Act 142

Krasner, Morton 107

Kromer, Amelia 21

Kromer, Carl V. 21

Kromer, William 22

Kruse, Richard 63

Kubrick, Stanley 215

Kurchatov Institute 40, 46, 47

Kurchatov, Igor 40

Kuzin, Anatoliy 278

L

Lake Erie 3, 4, 18, 175, 178, 196, 262

Langley Research Center 53, 58, 61, 301

Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory 237

Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory 58, 82, 237

Lecretius 281

Leucippus of Miletus 281

Levine, Saul 92

Levy, Hilde 143

Lewis Research Center (see also Glenn Research Center) xxii, xxvi, 35, 53, 55, 

58-61, 63, 70, 82, 86, 87, 88, 107, 120, 122, 129, 133, 135, 156, 187, 189, 

213, 217, 221, 222, 224, 226, 230, 232, 233, 246, 274

Lexington Report 38, 77

Liquid hydrogen 83, 119, 123, 127, 210, 218, 222, 223, 274, 300, 301

Lockheed 40, 57, 59, 78, 87, 89, 100, 101, 103, 121, 125, 126, 128, 130, 132, 

133, 136, 146, 150

London, James 212

Los Alamos National Laboratory xvii, 45, 49, 81, 82, 86-88, 109, 111, 118, 139, 

140, 148, 169, 236, 238

Low, George 220, 222, 223, 230

Lundin, Bruce xxii, 217, 221-228, 231-233, 235

M

Mach IV’s 189, 190

Manganiello, Eugene J. 210, 213

Manhattan College 251

Manhattan Project x, xxiv, 44, 46, 53, 148, 193, 289

Marines 6, 194

Mark II 50
Science in lux . . . f

316

Index

317

Ohio Criminal Bureau of Investigation 232

Ohio Edison Company 73

Ohio University 70

Oldrieve, Robert xvi, xvii, xxiii, 107, 110, 141, 163, 182, 303

Oldrieve, Rosalie 112, 182

On the Nature of Things 281

Open pool reactor 298

Ordnance Department 5, 6

Ordnance Plants 6-8

Ordnance Works 6-8

Organ, Mabry V. 67

Ostendorf, Edward 13, 19

Outplacement Service Center 237 P

PACER 189

Paine, Tom 187, 211, 236

Pearl Harbor 16, 30, 289

Peecook, Keith 252, 270, 303

Penn State University xviii

Pentagon 75

Pentolite 31, 68, 263

Perkin’s Township Cemetery 13, 25

Perkins Chamber of Commerce 213

Perkins Grange Hall 13, 19

Permissible dose 168, 208, 209, 260

Perry Nuclear Power Plant 208

Peters, Rev. Robert 65

Petit, Charles W. 276, 277

Pfanner, Henry 1, 15, 17, 264, 303

Phillips Petroleum Company 51, 52

Photon 286

Pinkel, Benjamin xxvi, 54, 55, 59, 60

Pioneer mission 226

Pipe Creek 264

Planck, Max 286

Planet of the Apes 173

Plato 281

Plum Brook 

Acquiring the land 10-20 

National Institute of Standards and Technology 143

National Pollutant Discharge Elimination System 251

National Reactor Testing Station xviii, 50, 147

National Science Foundation (NSF) 231, 232, 244, 273

Nautilis 38

Naval Appropriations Bill of 1915 52

Navy 6, 50, 275

Neumann, John von 82

Neutron activation analysis xix, 107, 120, 143-146, 155, 230, 232 Neutron flux xv, xvi, xvii, xviii, xix, 51, 52, 98, 100, 101, 103, 125, 137, 143, 

297, 298

Neutron spectrum badge 199

Newell, Homer E. 125, 126

Newton, Isaac 118

Nichols, Charlie 182

Nietzsche 215

Nixon, Richard xxii, 219, 220, 222, 225, 226, 231, 234

North American Aviation 52

North American Aviation 81, 89

North Caroline State University xviii

Nuclear airplane xx, 35, 36, 38, 74-77, 79

Nuclear Development Associates 56

Nuclear Energy for the Propulsion of Aircraft (NEPA) 38, 77

Nuclear Engine for Rocket Vehicle Application (NERVA) xxiii, 85-90, 118, 125-

136, 142, 145, 146, 151-153, 156, 157, 160, 225, 236, 300, 301

Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) ix, xix, xxiv, 142, 143, 237, 238, 243, 

248-251, 253, 259-261, 268

Nuclear rocket xx, xxi, xxii, 80-90, 274-278 O

O’Keefe, Sean 275

Oak Ridge National Laboratory xvii, xxv, 38, 45, 46, 50-53, 59, 77, 82, 98, 

122, 158, 191-193, 230, 237

Ockham, William of 282

Office of Advanced Research and Technology 187

Office of Nuclear Research 140

Office of Production Management 6

Office of Scientific Research and Development (ORRD) 289

Office of Space Science and Applications 125

Ohio agriculture 10
Science in lux . . . f

318

Index

319

Quadrants 95, 129, 134, 161, 184, 186, 203, 204, 233, 255

Reactor design 58-63

Reactor Standby Office 241, 243

Resident farmer scenario 249, 267

Rocket Dynamics and Control Facility (B-3) 218

Rocket Engine Dynamics Facility 218, 301

Safeguards committee 122, 123

Safety 64, 92, 122, 149, 167-170, 175-180, 192-214, 243

Shielding 109

Site selection 55-57

Space Power Facility (SPF) xxii, 212, 218, 302

Spacecraft Propulsion Research Facility (B-2) xxii, 218, 299

Stream 1, 23, 175, 262, 264

Test holes 68, 102, 103, 105-107, 137, 139, 140, 195, 255

Tours 185-187

Turbo Pump Site 301

Value of experiments 145-149

Water tower 256

Weather station 73

West Area Red Water Ponds 264

Windmills 242, 244

Pocket chamber 199

Poley, Bill 102

Polich, Tim ix, 253, 257, 261, 267, 303

Poole, David M. 38

Pratt & Whitney 40, 57, 78

Price, Melvin 42

Princeton University 82, 129, 289

Project Prometheus 277

Purdue University 60 Q

Quantum theory 286

Quartermaster Corps 5 R

Rabbit 109, 151, 153-157, 159

Radde Frank and Pauline 22

Radford Ordnance Works 7

Canal 72, 101, 102, 107, 108, 184, 186, 241

Central Meadows Area 269

Condemnation hearings 20-23

Containment vessel 68, 69, 71, 134, 209, 212, 241, 255

Control and Instrument Building 218, 301

Control rods 97, 175, 179, 203

Control room 72, 93, 94, 97, 121, 206, 250, 254

Controls and Turbine Test Site, 218, 300

Cooling tower 73

Core 70, 96, 97, 128, 178, 179, 184, 199, 255

Criticality xviii, 45, 80, 90-100, 167, 218, 239

Cryogenic Propellant Tank Site (K-Site) xxii, 218, 300 

Decommissioning Community Workgroup 248, 258, 261

Decommissioning xxiv, 238, 246, 249-256, 258-262, 270, 274

Dynamics Research Test Center 218, 300

Ecology 268-271

Environmental experiments 140-145, 230

Fan house 73, 200

First reactor announcement 35

Flourine Pump Site 218, 302

Groundbreaking 36, 62, 63

High Energy Rocket Engine Research Facility 218, 301

Hot cell 109, 113, 114, 157, 240

Hot laboratory 72, 99, 107-115, 182, 202, 240, 241

Hot Laundry Facility 201

Hot retention area 73

Hydraulics Lab 301

Hypersonic Tunnel Facility xxii, 218, 301

Igloos 26, 99, 173, 264

Laboratory 72

Licensing 91-92, 123

Lily pad 96, 184, 202

Liquid Hydrogen Pump Site 218, 300, 301

Manipulator arms xv, 109, 184, 240

Ordnance Works 7, 23-34, 56, 210, 262, 263, 265, 300

Oxidizer Hydraulics Lab 302

Pentolite Road Red Water Ponds 264

Political support 140, 148

Pressure tank 68, 95, 97, 179

Primary pump house 73
Science in lux . . . f

320

Index

321

Science and Astronautics Committee xxvii, 230

Science in flux xxvi, xxvii, xxix

Scientific and Research Institute of Atomic Reactors xxi

Scientific Revolution 283

SCRAM 178, 203, 206, 290

Seaborg, Glenn T. 91, 92, 187

Sexton Nuclear Experimental Corporation 251

Sexton, Rachel vii

Sharp, E.R. 35, 36, 57, 58, 63, 64, 162

Sheibley, Dean W. 145, 163-165, 200, 201, 228, 231, 254, 303

Sheldon, Sidney 53

Shelly, Mary 173

Signal Corps 5

Silverstein Abe 36, 58, 59, 60, 62, 64, 87, 92, 187, 188, 189, 213, 221, 222 

Skyab 226, 302

Smith, Merriman 43

Snyder, Gary 77, 143, 144, 147, 164, 165, 303

Soddy, Frederick 117, 170, 171, 285, 286

Soviet nuclear airplane 36, 40-43

Soviet research reactors 47, 98, 99

Soviet Union xxi, 36, 38, 74, 80, 82 

Space Nuclear Auxiliary Program (SNAP) 86, 89, 126, 136-140, 145, 146, 154

Space Nuclear Propulsion Office (SNPO) 54, 60, 80, 86-89, 142, 187, 225, 236

Space Propulsion Facility 151, 152, 155

Space race 40-42, 219

Space Shuttle xxii, xxviii, 140, 216, 220, 222, 223, 226, 227, 302

Space station 220

Specific impulse 82, 83

Sperry Engineering 121

Spotts, Peter N. 274

Sputnik xxi, 42, 67, 68, 74, 82

St. John’s Evangelical Church 13

St. Lawrence Seaway 177

St. Mary’s Church 63

Stagg Field 289

Stannard, J. Newell 209

Star Trek x

Steele, Myrna 98, 103, 164, 167, 182, 187, 189-191, 303

Stein, S.S. 133

Stenehjem, Michele 270

Radiation counter 199

Radiation damage 299

Radium Girls 173

Ravenna Arsenal 7, 12, 30, 34, 56, 262

Rawlings, Pat 276

Rea, James 19

Reactor In Flight Test (RIFT) Program 88, 89 

Reduction in Force (RIF) 226, 229

Request for Irradiation 122

Research reactor xvii, xxiv, xxv

Research reactors (history of) 44-52

Restoration Advisory Board 265, 266

Revolutionary War 3, 269

Rhazes 282

Rhodes, Don 93-95, 146, 228, 303

Risk 204, 208, 212, 258, 260, 261, 278

Robinson, Dick 102

Rodenhauser, Jermain 18, 24, 30

Roldan, Ethel 259

Rom, Frank 54, 60, 162, 303

Röntgen, Wilhelm Conrad 284

Roosevelt, Franklin D. 14, 24, 289

Ross, Jack 106, 128, 183, 194, 254, 263, 303

Rothrock, Addison M. 64

Rover 82, 84, 86

Russian Research Center 46

Rutherford, Ernest 117, 118, 120, 170-172, 285, 286, 287 S

Safety (Buffer) Zone 34, 209

Sanders, E.R. Jr. 262, 263

Sandusky Bay 262

Sandusky Chamber of Commerce 63, 174

Sandusky Post Office 196

Saturn V rocket 89, 184

Savino, Joe 60, 91, 163, 206, 244, 303

Schmitt, Harrison 215, 217

Schuh, Dick 102, 103, 164, 165, 303

Schumacher, E.F. 167

Schwanbeck, C.A. 133, 146
Science in lux . . . f

322

Index

323

U

UFO vii, viii, 43, 257, 259

Union of Concerned Scientists 141

University of California 221, 289

University of California Radiation Laboratory 52

University of Chicago 45, 49, 144, 289

University of Illinois 251

University of Kentucky 189

University of Montreal 117

University of Pennsylvania 168

University of Pittsburgh 207

University of Virginia 122, 251

University of Washington 251

Uranium-235 50, 64, 92, 101, 292-297

Uranium-238 50, 294, 295, 296, 297 V

Vallecitos Atomic Laboratory 140, 154

Victory, John F. 65, 66

Vietnam 214, 219, 225

Viking Mars Lander 226, 300

Vincenti, Walter G. 58

Vision for Space Exploration 277

Voyager mission 277 W

Wald, George 208

Walker, J. Samuel 168, 180, 257, 258

War Department 5, 9, 11, 13

Ward, J. Carlton, Jr. 38

Water boiler reactor 298

Weart, Spencer R. 221

Webb, James 91, 187, 188

Weichel, Alvin F. 2

Weinberg, Alvin 51

Weinstein, Susan T. 139

Weiss, Rick 273

Wellock, Thomas Raymond 142, 220

Wessell, Bill 248

Sternglass, Ernest J. 168, 207, 208

Stever, Guy 231

Stimson, Henry L. 6

Stokes, William 112, 113, 228, 303

Strassman, Fritz 81, 288, 289

Strauss, Richard 215

Strickfaden’s Store and Nursery 13

Subcritical system 293

Sunni theology 282

Supercritical system 293

Surveyor 300

Szilard, Leo 288, 289 T

Talbot, Harold 78

Tambling, Tom 206

Tank type reactor 298

Teledyne Isotopes 194, 241, 246, 247, 263

Tensile testing 113, 114, 129

Test Ban Treaty 199

Test Reactor Technical Specifications 123

Test reactor xvii

The Thing 173

The Time Machine 173

Them! 173

Thermal neutrons 106, 135, 150, 293 

Thermionic diode 123, 126, 139, 140, 153

Thermoelectric generators 136, 138

Thomson, J.J. 285

Three Mile Island xxiv, 257

Titan-Centaur 226, 302

Tracerlab, Inc. 52

Trinitrotoluene (TNT) 2, 11, 13, 26, 30, 262, 265

Trinity College, Cambridge 285

Truman, Harry 31

Truscott, Starr 68, 70, 237, 303

Tuberculosis 171
Science in lux . . . f

324

Wesson, Charles M. 25, 26

West Area native forests 269

Western Reserve 3

Westfall, Richard 283

Westinghouse xviii, 50, 52, 85, 86, 87, 98, 103, 121, 126, 130, 131, 134-136, 

146, 151-153, 194

White, Thomas D. 41

Wigner, Eugene 50, 51, 82, 129, 290, 299

William and Mary 58

Wilson, Charles 39, 78

Winnie the Pooh 290

Woodward, William 212

World War I 5

World War II 3-10, 23-34, 169, 210, 221, 245, 248, 262, 268, 269, 288, 289

Wright brothers 52, 65

Wuthenow, John N. 265

Wynd, James 208

X

Xenon 97

X-Files 257

X-ray 284

Y

York, Herbert 75

Yost’s Store 13

Young, Don 229, 241, 243, 303

Z

Zatathustra 215

Zinn, Walter 48, 50
NASA History Series

325

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Grimwood, James M., and C. Barton Hacker, with Peter J. Vorzimmer. Project 

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Link, Mae Mills. Space Medicine in Project Mercury. NASA SP-4003, 1965.

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NASA SP-4019, 1977.

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Roland, Alex. Model Research: The National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, 

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Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft. NASA SP-4205, 1979. 

Bilstein, Roger E. Stages to Saturn: A Technological History of the Apollo/Saturn 

Launch Vehicles. NASA SP-4206, 1980, rep. ed. 1997.

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Compton, W. David, and Charles D. Benson. Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab. NASA SP-4208, 1983.

Ezell, Edward Clinton, and Linda Neuman Ezell. The Partnership: A History of the 

Apollo-Soyuz Test Project. NASA SP-4209, 1978.

Hall, R. Cargill. Lunar Impact: A History of Project Ranger. NASA SP-4210, 1977.

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Ezell, Edward Clinton, and Linda Neuman Ezell. On Mars: Exploration of the Red 

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Compton, W. David. Where No Man Has Gone Before: A History of Apollo Lunar 

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Naugle, John E. First Among Equals: The Selection of NASA Space Science Experiments. NASA SP-4215, 1991.

Wallace, Lane E. Airborne Trailblazer: Two Decades with NASA Langley’s Boeing 

737 Flying Laboratory. NASA SP-4216, 1994.

Butrica, Andrew J., editor. Beyond the Ionosphere: Fifty Years of Satellite Communication. NASA SP-4217, 1997.

Butrica, Andrew J. To See the Unseen: A History of Planetary Radar Astronomy. 

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Mack, Pamela E., editor. From Engineering Science to Big Science: The NACA and 

NASA Collier Trophy Research Project Winners. NASA SP-4219, 1998.

Reed, R. Dale, with Darlene Lister. Wingless Flight: The Lifting Body Story. NASA 

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Glennan, T. Keith. The Birth of NASA: The Diary of T. Keith Glennan. J. D. Hunley, editor. NASA SP-4105, 1993.

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Launch Facilities and Operations. NASA SP-4204, 1978.

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pulsion Technology. NASA SP-4306, 1991.

Dethloff, Henry C. “Suddenly Tomorrow Came . . .”: A History of the Johnson Space 

Center. NASA SP-4307, 1993.

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Center. NASA SP-4309, 1996.

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Center. NASA SP-2000-4314, 2000.

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and Women of NASA Langley Research Center. NASA SP-2003-4316, 2003.

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NASA SP-4401, 1971.

Wells, Helen T., Susan H. Whiteley, and Carrie Karegeannes. Origins of NASA 

Names. NASA SP-4402, 1976.

Anderson, Frank W., Jr. Orders of Magnitude: A History of NACA and NASA, 

1915–1980. NASA SP-4403, 1981.

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1978.

Heppenheimer, T. A. The Space Shuttle Decision: NASA’s Search for a Reusable Space 

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NASA SP-4222, 1999.

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Apollo Program. NASA SP-4223, 1999.

Tomayko, James E. Computers Take Flight: A History of NASA’s Pioneering Digital 

Fly-by-Wire Project. NASA SP-2000-4224, 2000.

Morgan, Clay. Shuttle-Mir: The U.S. and Russia Share History’s Highest Stage. 

NASA SP-2001-4225, 2001.

Leary, William M. “We Freeze to Please”: A History of NASA’s Icing Research Tunnel 

and the Quest for Flight Safety. NASA SP-2002-4226, 2002.

Mudgway, Douglas J. Uplink-Downlink: A History of the Deep Space Network 

1957–1997. NASA SP-2001-4227, 2001. 

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Hartman, Edwin P. Adventures in Research: A History of Ames Research Center, 

1940–1965. NASA SP-4302, 1970.

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SP-4303, 1984.

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1940–1976. NASA SP-4304, 1985.

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Apollo Program. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 2, 1994.

Launius, Roger D. Apollo: A Retrospective Analysis. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 3, 1994.

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Gorn, Michael H. Hugh L. Dryden’s Career in Aviation and Space. Monograph in 

Aerospace History, No. 5, 1996.

Powers, Sheryll Goecke. Women in Flight Research at NASA Dryden Flight Research 

Center, from 1946 to 1995. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 6, 1997. 

Portree, David S. F. and Robert C. Trevino.Walking to Olympus: An EVA Chronology. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 7, 1997.

Logsdon, John M., moderator. Legislative Origins of the National Aeronautics and 

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1961–1998. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 9, 1998.

Portree, David S. F. NASA’s Origins and the Dawn of the Space Age. Monograph in 

Aerospace History, No. 10, 1998.

Logsdon, John M. Together in Orbit: The Origins of International Cooperation in the 

Space Station. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 11, 1998. 

Phillips, W. Hewitt. Journey in Aeronautical Research: A Career at NASA Langley 

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Braslow, Albert L. A History of Suction-Type Laminar-Flow Control with Emphasis 

on Flight Research. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 13, 1999.

Logsdon, John M., moderator. Managing the Moon Program: Lessons Learned From 

Apollo. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 14, 1999. 

Perminov, V. G. The Difficult Road to Mars: A Brief History of Mars Exploration in 

the Soviet Union. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 15, 1999. 

Tucker, Tom. Touchdown: The Development of Propulsion Controlled Aircraft at 

NASA Dryden. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 16, 1999.

Roland, Alex. A Spacefaring People: Perspectives on Early Spaceflight. NASA SP4405, 1985.

Bilstein, Roger E. Orders of Magnitude: A History of the NACA and NASA, 1915–

1990. NASA SP-4406, 1989.

Logsdon, John M., editor, with Linda J. Lear, Jannelle Warren-Findley, Ray A. 

Williamson, and Dwayne A. Day. Exploring the Unknown: Selected Documents in 

the History of the U.S. Civil Space Program, Volume I, Organizing for Exploration. 

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Logsdon, John M., editor, with Dwayne A. Day and Roger D. Launius. Exploring the Unknown: Selected Documents in the History of the U.S. Civil Space Program, 

Volume II, Relations with Other Organizations. NASA SP-4407, 1996.

Logsdon, John M., editor, with Roger D. Launius, David H. Onkst, and Stephen 

J. Garber. Exploring the Unknown: Selected Documents in the History of the U.S. 

Civil Space Program, Volume III, Using Space. NASA SP-4407, 1998.

Logsdon, John M., general editor, with Ray A. Williamson, Roger D. Launius, 

Russell J. Acker, Stephen J. Garber, and Jonathan L. Friedman. Exploring the Unknown: Selected Documents in the History of the U.S. Civil Space Program, Volume 

IV, Accessing Space. NASA SP-4407, 1999.

Logsdon, John M., general editor, with Amy Paige Snyder, Roger D. Launius, 

Stephen J. Garber, and Regan Anne Newport. Exploring the Unknown: Selected 

Documents in the History of the U.S. Civil Space Program, Volume V, Exploring the 

Cosmos. NASA SP-2001-4407, 2001.

Siddiqi, Asif A. Challenge to Apollo: The Soviet Union and the Space Race, 1945–

1974. NASA SP-2000-4408, 2000.

Hansen, James R., editor. The Wind and Beyond: Journey into the History of 

Aerodynamics in America, Volume 1, The Ascent of the Airplane. NASA SP-2003-

4409, 2003.

Monographs in Aerospace History, NASA SP-4500:

Launius, Roger D. and Aaron K. Gillette, compilers, Toward a History of the Space 

Shuttle: An Annotated Bibliography. Monograph in Aerospace History, No. 1, 1992.
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the One-Hundredth Anniversary of the First Powered Flight on December 17, 1903. 

NASA SP-2003-4532, 2002.

Bowles, Mark D. and Robert S. Arrighi. NASA’s Nuclear Frontier: The Plum Brook 

Research Reactor. SP-2004-4533, 2003.

McCurdy, Howard E. Low Cost Innovation in Spaceflight: The History of the Near 

Earth Asteroid Rendezvous (NEAR) Mission. NASA SP-2005-4536, 2005.

Seamans, Robert C. Jr. Project Apollo: The Tough Decisions. NASA SP-2005-4537, 

2005.

Lambright, W. Henry. NASA and the Environment: The Case of Ozone Depletion. 

NASA SP-2005-4538, 2005.

Chambers, Joseph R. Innovation in Flight: Research of the NASA Langley Research 

Center on Revolutionary Advanced Concepts for Aeronautics. NASA SP-2005-4539, 

2005.

Phillips, W. Hewitt. Journey Into Space Research: Continuation of a Career at NASA 

Langley Research Center. NASA SP-2005-4540, 2005.

Maisel, Martin D., Demo J. Giulianetti, and Daniel C. Dugan. The History of the XV15 Tilt Rotor Research Aircraft: From Concept to Flight. NASA SP-2000-4517, 2000.

Jenkins, Dennis R. Hypersonics Before the Shuttle: A Concise History of the X-15 

Research Airplane. NASA SP-2000-4518, 2000. 

Chambers, Joseph R. Partners in Freedom: Contributions of the Langley Research 

Center to U.S. Military Aircraft in the 1990s. NASA SP-2000-4519, 2000.

Waltman, Gene L. Black Magic and Gremlins: Analog Flight Simulations at NASA’s 

Flight Research Center. NASA SP-2000-4520, 2000.

Portree, David S. F. Humans to Mars: Fifty Years of Mission Planning, 1950–2000.

NASA SP-2001-4521, 2001.

Thompson, Milton O., with J. D. Hunley. Flight Research: Problems Encountered 

and What They Should Teach Us. NASA SP-2000-4522, 2000.

Tucker, Tom. The Eclipse Project. NASA SP-2000-4523, 2000.

Siddiqi, Asif A. Deep Space Chronicle: A Chronology of Deep Space and Planetary 

Probes, 1958–2000. NASA SP-2002-4524, 2002. 

Merlin, Peter W. Mach 3+: NASA/USAF YF-12 Flight Research, 1969–1979. 

NASA SP-2001-4525, 2001.

Anderson, Seth B. Memoirs of an Aeronautical Engineer—Flight Tests at Ames Research Center: 1940–1970. NASA SP-2002-4526, 2002. 

Renstrom, Arthur G. Wilbur and Orville Wright: A Bibliography Commemorating 

the One-Hundredth Anniversary of the First Powered Flight on December 17, 1903. 

NASA SP-2002-4527, 2002.

No monograph 28.

Chambers, Joseph R. Concept to Reality: Contributions of the NASA Langley Research Center to U.S. Civil Aircraft of the 1990s. SP-2003-4529, 2003.

Peebles, Curtis, editor. The Spoken Word: Recollections of Dryden History, The Early 

Years. SP-2003-4530, 2003.

Jenkins, Dennis R., Tony Landis, and Jay Miller. American X-Vehicles: An Inventory-X-1 to X-50. SP-2003-4531, 2003.

Renstrom, Arthur G. Wilbur and Orville Wright: A Chronology Commemorating