In March 1979, my husband and I were both working at a local hospital. Our two sons were 10 and 7. During the afternoon of that Friday, the kids (all of us) were anxious about what to do.
On the radio, the experts were advising that you carry an umbrella if you were going outdoors. Later there was a post that if you were east of Rohrerstown Road, you were not in danger.
the gas station attendant said, “I can’t figure out why I am so busy tonight.”
When the Governor spoke at 11 pm, about the bubble, our ten year old got really anxious and we decided to leave to go to my sister’s house in Syracuse. When we stopped at Clark’s Summit for gas, about 2 am, the gas station attendant said, “I can’t figure out why I am so busy tonight.” I don’t remember if we told him.
We stayed in Syracuse for the weekend, but on Sunday night decided we’d better return to Lancaster, especially because we were on emergency support teams at the hospital. As we left Syracuse, there was some kind of a radiation incident at their local power plant—assuring us that we might as well go home.
What was most surprising was the fact that none of the government entities seemed to know what to recommend.
Ellie