I had worked briefly on the construction of the nuclear generating station on Three Mile Island, and it was a massive project.
On Tuesday I went with my girlfriend to see the movie China Syndrome, probably at the West Shore Theater in New Cumberland, PA. The next morning she went to work. Shortly afterward I called her and told her that the reactor at Three Mile Island was scrammed. She thought I was joking and just trying to scare her, since that was the scenario we had seen the night before in the movie. I assured her that it was not a joke, according to the increasing news reports. She went back to her apartment, gathered some belongings, and the cat, in case an evacuation became necessary.
She thought I was joking
I had worked at Ski Roundtop earlier in the winter, but the season had ended, and the area closed the preceding weekend. As had been the tradition, a party for employees was scheduled for the next Friday at the lodge. The mood was tense in central Pennsylvania through those days, but it was decided that the party should go on as scheduled, since we were decidedly upwind. Besides, if TMI were going to blow, the view from the top of Roundtop Mountain would be spectacular. A friend I had worked with throughout the winter had lived in Middletown. He showed up at the party with his girl friend and most of their possessions in the back of his truck, figuring they weren’t going back. As I traveled toward Harrisburg from the north, I passed a steady stream of traffic headed out of town. I got the impression that, if I had stood at the end of one of the bridges with a hand full of bills, I could have bought a lot of houses for a hundred dollars a piece. There was a feeling of overwhelming uncertainty and an air of desperation.
if TMI were going to blow, the view from the top of Roundtop Mountain would be spectacular
I was involved with a production at the Harrisburg Community Theatre, now known as Theatre Harrisburg, which was scheduled to close that week end. The show did go on, and the final performance was the matinee Sunday afternoon. Immediately following the last curtain call the entire cast and crew are expected to strike the set to prepare for the run of the next show. This is normally a time of boisterous laughter reminiscing about the high and low points of the run and discussion of plans for auditions for the rest of the season. Everyone wants to know who will be working on what show next. …not this day. The mood was somber. This may have been the last show ever here. People talked about heading to Chicago or Kansas City where they had relatives. Instead of looking forward to seeing most everyone again in a few weeks for the next production, there was a very real expectation that we were about to go our several ways and may never see each other again.
President Jimmy Carter showed up with a smart, dynamic guy from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, Harold Denton, if I recall correctly, and started to get things figured out. The official evacuation was never called. Within a few days it seemed like the danger was past, but there was a lot of not knowing that would linger for years.
Richard