It was March 28, 1979, a day like any other cold Spring day, My oldest child went to school, my four year old son and 3 month old baby were at home with me.

We were getting lunch when breaking news on every radio station and every tv network announced that a nuclear reactor at Three Mile Island in Harrisburg, twenty miles from our home in Lebanon County, was overheated and threatening  the release of radioactive material. Apparently a valve opened releasing radioactive steam.

We sat glued to our tv sets watching the unfolding catastrophe

In the beginning, there were no evacuation orders. We sat glued to our tv sets watching the unfolding catastrophe, which no one clearly understood. What had or was happening? Nerves were frayed but life continued. No one in our circle of friends or family had an understanding of nuclear reactors or what the news services were telling us but it was  made to sound very serious and was broadcast hourly on local and national news.

Two days after the initial announcement, the governor proclaimed that pregnant women and preschoolers within a five mile radius should evacuate and people within a ten mile radius should “stay indoors.” So, believing what we were told, we stayed put.  Later we were informed that radioactive material was found 10 miles away.

My friend took my children and hers out of school. It was a very anxious time. We had already planned to go to dinner with my parents, some of their friends and my brother in Lancaster on that Friday night, March 30. The older kids stayed with their other grandparents and we took our newborn to the house party for dinner. My brother arrived very concerned. He was a reporter and columnist for the Lancaster New Era and said that he was getting a lot more information over the AP wire than of what we were aware. Radioactivity is especially dangerous for unborn babies and young children because of their body’s rapid cell growth.

Crossing the bridge over the Susquehanna River and seeing the looming shadows of the smoking towers in the distance was so very eerie.

My husband and I were extremely uncomfortable with this news and wanted to get our children out of the area as soon as possible. We gathered up the other two kids and hurriedly went home to Lebanon, all the way planning what we could take with us in case we were never able to return.

My sister and her husband lived in Uniontown, Pennsylvania, close to Pittsburgh, and we called them to tell them we were on our way. As I remember, we took our kids favorite toy, all sterling silver we had so we’d have something to sell for cash, and of course, all our bank books and important documents. We were on our way by midnight. Crossing the bridge over the Susquehanna River and seeing the looming shadows of the smoking towers in the distance was so very eerie.

Almost everyone in our community of Spring Hill Acres had evacuated.

We arrived on Saturday morning at 4:15 and spent the next five days, trying to act happily nonchalant with the kids, while all the while watching for good news about TMI. And, there wasn’t any of that. Sunday morning, my husband, who was a contractor, couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of never returning to our home and losing his livelihood.  We knew that neighbors of ours had evacuated to a nearby area and called them. The neighbor was wanting to return as well. The prospect of losing everything we had wasn’t so bad as long as we had each other. So, when he took off that Sunday night to return to Lebanon, I was frightened. He called to tell me he had arrived safely and he was nervous. Almost everyone in our community of Spring Hill Acres had evacuated. I didn’t sleep that night and remember my happiness when he returned to us at 5:00 AM Monday morning.

We listened to the news most of the day and it seemed more reassuring every day. We were learning along with everyone else what some of the nuclear terms meant and wanted to wait for a total cold shut down but they said it would take weeks so we decided to return home. Thursday morning we left Uniontown, with two vehicles now, my orange 1975 Volvo station wagon and my husband’s blue Dodge pickup truck with all the tools of his trade.

It felt strange returning with Three Mile Island so unsettled and we vowed to each other to do something in our community to insure that something like this would never happen again.

Twelve days later the Governor issued another proclamation that it was safe for residents within a five mile radius to return.

We, with some friends and neighbors, founded the Lebanon Valley Anti-Nuclear Alliance. We held rallies and did some marching. However, as a mother of three, I tired of not really accomplishing much with our efforts and felt far more drawn to raising my children to be good people than in participating in all the politics that were required.

Five years later they opened Reactor number two at Three Mile Island and found that half the fuel had melted.

It was declared the most serious nuclear accident in nuclear industry history until that time.

Judy

Judy and her son