Some radioactive adventures
A little look at some of the things I have done in the name of research
It’s just under a week until the launch of my next book Chain Reactions: A Hopeful History of Uranium and to be honest I am a mess of worry, self loathing and fear of failure. Oh and hideously hot from the weather we have here at the moment. All in all an absolute delight!
But moving along and trying to keep things light and positive I wanted to share with you some of the adventures have been on whilst researching this book. It’s actually been over a decade since I started research on the history of radioactive elements - first radium (the outcome of which was my debut Half Lives: The Unlikely History of Radium) and now uranium. I have been so lucky to go to many places in the quest to unpick our complex relationship with radioactivity and have had some great fun on the way.
Bad Gastein, Austria
In 2018 I went to Bad Gastein in Austria, a town celebrated for its radium waters and spa culture (there is also skiing but I managed to avoid that!). It’s a beautiful mountain town and lots of choice for where to get your radon bath. This style of treatment is known as mild radium therapy and proponents argue that exposure to radium in small doses (usually administered by drinking radium-laced water or by breathing in radium emanations) caused a small amount of stress to biological organisms. This strain would, according to the principles of mild radium therapy, trigger a chain of physiological reactions that worked as a potent metabolic catalyst to improve joint movements, blood circulation, boost the immune system, stimulate tissue regeneration and a host of other positive changes. Mild radium therapy was thought to be particularly effective for diseases that permeated the whole body, like tuberculosis. We first see radon spa treatments in 1906 in St Joachmisthal and it is really interesting that they are still in existence and still popular today. The owner of the hotel we stayed at told me that the only real dip in popularity that he has experienced was in 1986 after the Chernobyl accident - but that was only for a really short time and visitor numbers soon bounced back. Despite it being a controversial subject for many there really is quite a lot of faith and interest in what happens to the body when it is subjected to low doses of radiation. For my part I didn’t experience anything specifically in Bad Gastein but when I had another radon bath in St Joachimsthal (now Jachymov) my blood sugars were remarkably stable for several weeks afterwards. As a Type One Diabetic with very up and down control this was quite noticeable but I have no idea whether it was just a coincidence or not.
Brussels, Belgium
Another great trip, and one I managed to combine with another project - some work for the Value of Beauty campaign where I was their resident historian. The Atomium is pretty much all that is left from the Brussels World’s Fair of 1958. This very impressive structure features nine interconnected large spheres which symbolised an iron crystal ‘magnified 165 billion times.’ Inside of these orbs there were displays on peaceful uses of nuclear energy from a number of groups, including the European Atomic Energy Community (Euratom) and the mining conglomerate Union Minière du Haut Katanga, which showcased a piece of uranium ore covered by a transparent sphere. This was all part of an ambitious project to normalise nuclear technology and it is one that I cover in detail in Chain Reactions.
Whilst there is nothing remaining of the nuclear aspect of the World’s Fair, and from what I could see it wasn’t even mentioned in the exhibitions inside the Atomium today, it was a brilliant experience to be able to go inside this structure. Is funny how much reading you can do about a place but I hadn’t even really picked up that there was a lift that went straight to the top but also elevators in between the spheres so you can go between them. More importantly there is also a fab restaurant right at the top where there are great views over Brussels and some really tasty food.
Whilst this was all fun and games there was still one place I was saving right to the end – largely because the thought of it rather terrified me. It wasn’t a fear of radioactivity that prompted this hesitancy but Las Vegas’s reputation as a party town – a rather overwhelming prospect!
And why is Las Vegas on a radioactive hunters hit list you may ask?
Well simply put between 1951 and 1992 the US government exploded 100 atomic bombs near there before moving their testing underground in 1961, at which point they blew up another 828.
Las Vegas, USA
This programme started in the early 1950s with the establishment of a testing site on the US mainland (prior to this they had used sites in the Pacific). A former airbase, approximately 65 miles east of Las Vegas, was chosen as the ideal place – meeting the criteria of being far enough away from major population centres whilst also being secure and easily accessible for the huge amount of people that were needed to run the testing programme – from scientists, to clerical personnel and other skilled workers many of who were eventually housed at a purpose built encampment – Camp Mercury. Accommodation for the hundreds of thousands of soldiers who would be stationed there over the course of the 1950s was also built nearby.
All of this activity was rather unprecedented for the desert city of Vegas to have on its literal doorstep. In the early 1950s it was still a relatively small place, with only around twenty-five thousand residents and under a million tourists a year.
Its growth hadn’t been without issues (largely of the criminal underworld variety), but by the early 1950s there were 15 resort hotels, 38 commercial hotels and 286 motels. The 5 main hotels on the strip, El Rancho, Flamingo, Thunderbird, Last Frontier and Desert Inn, would soon be joined by the Sahara, Sands and Stardust to name but a few.
And there were huge concerns around what it would mean for this fledgling tourist industry to have atomic bombs going off so close by.
On 27 January 1951 the first test of the Operation Ranger series was detonated at Frenchman Flat, a dried-up lakebed in the middle of the testing site. Over in Vegas there were reports of shaking walls and a resident or two who had been tossed out of their bed (the tests were always held early in the morning) but nothing as dire as had been predicted.
After the first few explosions had passed without incident the city wholeheartedly embraced the bomb. Residents would wake their children up to view the spectacle and as they settled into the strange rhythm of the various testing series, atomic imagery gradually integrated into the town’s culture. The bomb became another part of the experience of visiting Las Vegas, merging with the city’s glamourous reputation, the thrill of gambling and a pervading sense of otherworldliness.
To ensure that tourists were aware of the upcoming atomic tests, calendars were distributed with the dates and times. Some hotels even provided packed box lunches for their customers to take to picnics at Angel’s Peak, a mountain located 45 miles away which offered great views.
Many of the hotels, motels and casinos had atomic test offerings that were designed to bring in the public. At the Sands you could go to one of their ‘Atom Watch’ parties with breakfast served on the terrace. And at the Atomic View Motel it was possible to lie by the pool and watch the tests from the comfort of your lounge chair. The Desert Inn served up their version of the ‘Atomic Cocktail’ during parties in its third-floor lounge, the Sky Room. The tipple was made from equal parts vodka, brandy and champagne, with a dash of sherry.
In the Venus Room at the New Frontier, there was a unique performer billed as ‘the nation’s only atomic-powered singer’, none other than Elvis Presley, in his first Las Vegas appearance. Variety hailed him as an ‘atomic-age phenomenon’, while Time declared him to be ‘hotter than a radioactive yam’.
The publicity machine in Las Vegas proved to be remarkably successful in reshaping public perception of atomic testing, shifting it away from its initial associations with death, destruction, and towards a more glamorous connotation.
Whilst the cultural impact of the bombs had faded by the end of the decade, and disappeared completely as the tests moved underground, I wanted to see if there were any survivors of the atomic past in 2024. I really hadn’t expected much – after all Vegas isn’t really known for its commitment to preserving its history – but I was pleasantly surprised.
For more about the history behind the U. S’s atomic programme there is the magnificent Atomic Testing Museum which is a short taxi ride or around half an hour walk from the Flamingo Hotel on the Strip.
The Stardust atomic sign is in pieces but largely preserved at the Neon Museum and one of the sites of the bomb watching parties – Atomic Liquors is not only still there but still serving drinks.
All in all this researcher was very glad to have braved the heat, the crowds and the casinos.
If you would like more stories from our radioactive past then please do check out my books - available in all the usual places.