PaI5;rut'e MucmiIlatt Menory, Studia.s

Scries Editors: Andrew Hoskins and John Sutton' l 'he- nascent held of Memory Studies emerges frorn contemporarv trends thatirrclude a shif t from concern with historical knowledge of events to that of mem-ory, from 'what we know' to ' l row we remember i t ' ; charrges in generationalmemory; tbc rapid advance of technologies of nremory; panics over decl iningpowers of nrernory, wl-r ich mirror our fascination with the possibi l i t ies of rnemoryelrhanccment; and the development of traunra narrat ivcs i tr reshaping the past.These factors have contr ibuted to an intensif icat ion of publ ic discourses on ourpast ()\ 'er the last thirty vears. Technological, pol i t ical, interpersonal, social andcultural shif ts alfect what, how and why people and societ ies remember andforget. This groundbreaking series tackles questions such as: What is 'ntemory'under these condit ions? What are i ts prospects, and also the prospects for i tsinterdiscipl inary and systematic study? What are the conccptual, thcoretical andmcthodoloSical tools for i ts investigati()n and i l lurr ination?

Aleida Assmann and Sebastian ( lonrad k'dit<trs)MEMORY IN A GLOBAI, AGEI)iscourses, l)ract ices and I ' raiectories

Brian ConwayCOMMEMORATION AND BLOOI)Y SUNDAYPathways of Mernorv

Richard CrownshawTHE AFTERLIFE OF HOLOCAUS'I ME,MORY IN CONI'E,N{POIIARY LI'fE,ItAl'UI],F,ANI] CUUI 'URb]

Yifat Gutman, Adam l). IJrowrr and Amv Sodaro (cditor.s)MI.]MORY AND -IHE FUTURETransnational Pol i t ics, Ethics and Societv

Mikyoung Kirn and Barrv Schwartz (editors\NOR'I 'HEAST ASIA'S DIFFICULT PASTEssays in Collective Memory

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Memory and the Future'l'ransnational Politics, Ethics and Society

I t l i tcd by

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,\dam D. Brown.rrr t l

Anry Sodaro

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t l r ' .t i t t' , l \ , - . j

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Introduction, setection and editoriaI matter @ Yifat 6utman, Adam D. Brownand Amy Sodaro 2010IndividuaI chapters @ contributors 20.10Afterword @ Jeffrey K. Otick 2010

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Library of Congress Catatoging- in-Pubt icat ion DataMemory and the future : t ransnat ionaI pot i t ics, ethics and society /

edi ted by Yi fat Cutman, Adam D. Brown, Amy Sodaro.p. cm.- (Palgrave Macmil lan memory studies)

ISBN 978-0-230-247 40-6 (hardback)1. Collective memory-Politicalaspects. 2. Memorialization-Socialaspects. 3. War and society. 4. War memorials-Social aspects.5. Pol i t icalv io lence-Socia[aspects. l . Cutman,Yi fat , 1977-l l . Brown, Adam D., 1977- l l l . Sodaro, Amy, 1975-D862.M46 2010306.2-dc22 2010027518

10987654319 18 17 16 15 14 13 12

2111 10

Printed and bound in Creat Britain byCPI Antony Rowe, Chippenham and Eastbourne

( lontents

I isl of'Figures

Nrrfcs r.rrr the Corttributors

lrrtroduction: Memory and the Future: Why a Change ofl;ocus is Necessary|ilrrt Gubnan, Amy Soclaro snd Adam I). Brown

l)art I Memory through Space and Timel'he Internationalization of Memory - How Meaningsand Models Travel the World

I Changing Temporalit ies and the Internationalizationof Memory CulturesDoniel Levy

2 Misremembering the Holocaust: Universal Symbol,Nationalist Icon or Moral Kitsch?Ross Poole

.3 Memory and History from Past to Future: A Dialogue withDori Laub on Trauma and TestimonyDori Laub and Federico Finchelstein

4 Remembering Yesterday to Protect lbmorrow: TheInternationalization of a New Commemorative ParadigmLouis Bickford and Amy Sodaro

Part II Forms and GenresNarrative, Oral History and Visual Memory - Howthe Form Serves the Aim

5 The Role of Conversations in Shaping Individual andCollective Memory, Attitudes and Behaviorlonothan Koppel and William Hirst

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9Happy Memories under theMushroom Cloud: Utopia andMemory in Oak Ridge, T€nnesseeLindsey A. Freemon

On l9 March 1949, the'atomic city' of Oak ll idge, ' l-ennessee was openedwith a tiny mushroonr cioucl. A stanclard ribbon cutting ceremony exe-cuted with a snip of scissor blades would have been far too gauche forthis science city of the future. In its place, a rnini-simulacrurn of anatomic bomb blast was ignited, setting ablaze the scarlet ribbon thatstretched across the city's rnain gate.l As part of the Atomic E nergy Conr-nrission's (AEC) 'Operation Open Sesame' the ribbon burning helpedto usher in a new phase of visibil i ty for the former secrct city of theManhattan Proiect. ' fhis spirit of openness rnarked a drastic change forOak Ridge, the city responsible for producing all of the uranium-235that went into the atolnic bomb that was droppecl on Hiroshima. From1943-49, Oak Ridge clperrated as a completely ckrsed federal rnil i taryreservation, unmappec'l and invisiblc to the Rand-McNally universe.lAlthough the AEC rcferred to Oak l{iclge's transition as part of a pro-cess of normalization, 'Opcration ()pen Sesarne' was i l spectacular evcntwith l0,0OO people in attcndance, including nulnerous celebrit ies andpoiit icians, such as the movie stars Marie MacDonalci and Rod Carneron,as well as Senator Brien McMahon of Connecticut and Vice PresidentAlben Barkley (Figure 9.1).

For those who were able to travel to Oak Ridge for the celebration, itmust have been quite a red-letter day. In addition to the gate-openingceremony, another premier event was held; the first museum of atomicenergy opened its doors. The inauguration of the American Museumof Atomic Energy:r was carefully planned to coincide directly with theopening of the town; in fact only two hours separated their respectivepublic introductions. The timing was intended to solidify a partic-ular version of the events leading up to and following the end of

Littdsey A. Freetnart 159

Figure 9.1 fhe opening cererrony of the 'atomic city' of Oak lt idge, l-ennessee,19 March 1949. [,d Westcott, Courtesy of the Department of linergy PhotoArchives

World War II. The museum's first displays were devoted to 'The Atomand Man,' and the goal was to 'operate the museum as part of a publiceducation prograr.n on atomic energy' (ORAU, 2010).

The museum's message was future oriented, utopian. Atomic energywas going to revolutionize our everyday l ives. Fissionable materialswould not only be used for bornbs, they would also heat our homes, fuelour cars and provide limitless cleatr energy forever. Sometimes, though,forever has a brief shelf l i fe. Aided by events such as the Chernobyl dis-aster, and the Three Mile Island incident, as well as the recognition ofthe many health problems that plague clownwinders in the AmericanWest, the idea of nuclear energy as an unproblematic energy source hasrece'ded into memory.

In many ways the future of atomic energy is a thing of the past. Thissentiment is clear from the American Museunr of Science and Energy's(AMSE) current slogan, 'Where Science ancl History Meet.' The samecould be said of the town itself. Oak Ridge was once a city of thefuture, a prototype for an ideal American town designecl by the firm of

r58

76O Happy Metrnrics wuler tlrc Mushroom Cloucl

Skidmore, Owings and Merrill, as well as a new type of scientific com-munity dedicated to producing the flssionable materials of tomorrow.While Oak Ridge is sti l l a destination for world-class physicists and asite of federal nuclear storage and research, the town has taken on amuch more historic gloss. This chapter will argue that Oak Ridge, aformer utopia, is now experiencing its half-l i fe, the slow erosion of itscultural significance. Meanwhile, local groups along with the Depart-ment of Energy are working to delay this process through rituals ofremembrance, such as festivals and memorials, as well as through insti-tutions l ike the AMSE. I wil l argue that these attempts to remind theworld about Oak Ridge have an unmistakably nostalgic character andrely mostly on conjuring memories of 'The Greatest Generation,'a thosewho lived through the Great Depression and then went on to fight inWorld War II or to support the war on the home front. This nostalgiais dangerous because it suppresses opportunities to revisit many impor-tant issues facing the USA and beyond, including the storage, use andproliferation of nuclear weapons.

Yet is it actually possible in the early twenty-first century to be nos-talgic for the atomic bomb? Are good memories of the mushroom cloudsti l l possible, amidst all the terrible nightmarcs and the mounting evi-dence of destruction? If Oak Ridge, 'fennessee, one of the key productionsites for the Manhattan Projcct, is any indication, then, yes it is possible.But does Oak Riclge's traiectory from atomic utopianism to at()mic nos-talgia point to somcthing larger than the question of atomic bombs oratomic energy? More gcnerally, are thc atornic spaccs of the last centurybecoming nostalgic spaces, staring backwards instead of looking towardthe future? Is this kind of scientif ic utopian thinking, of which OakRidge is clearly an example, a thing of the past, accessible only throughold movies or museum displays? If so, wl.rat might these displays ofatomic nostalgia look l ike in the future?

In order to address these questions I wil l focus on the AMSE, as awindow to the changing attitudes toward atomic energy and atomicutopianism. While Oak Ridge's nostalgic shift can be seen throughmany lenses and social institutions, such as histories, documentariesand newspapers, as well as the annual Secret City F'estival, I argue thatthe museum provides the best vantage point with which to view thephenomenon, as it marks one of the hrst self-conscious attempts to bothnarrate the city's past and to articulate the possibil i t ies of atomic energyin the future. In order to describe the utopianism that was attached tothe everyday l ives of Oak Ridgers, as well as the work that was done inthe secret uranium factories, it wil l be necessary to make an argumentfor Oak Ridge as a utopian landscape. Then, using a combination

Litrdsey A. Freentan 161

of archival and ethnographic research, I will show how the AMSE haschanged over the years from a forward-thinking utopian space to a dis-play of atomic nostalgia, mirroring the arc of the town itself, as well asthe national narrative.s Lastly, I wil l argue that the changing outlook ofOak Ridge can tell us something about the future of nostalgia for theBomb in the USA.

Oak Ridge as utopia

The anthropologist, Margarct Mead, writ ing in 1968, recognized thatwhat she found in the small city of ' l 'ennessee was a new type of l ivingarrangement not yet seen in the USA, a new variety of utopia, the firstscientif ic community:

The segregation of those with special interests is an old tradition inthe United States in the forn'r of comrnunities of the religiously ded-icated, communities of artists, coml.nunities in which the polit icalUtopians have experimcntccl. l lut the community of scientists andtechnicians specifically, conce'rnecl with such problems as the devel-opment of atomic energy, thc instrurnental bases of automation, thespace sciences, is new - only as old as Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

(Mead 2005, p. 188)

When we think of the utopian history of the USA we tend to thinkin terms of religious enclaves, transcendental communities and thecounter-cultural communes of the sixties and seventies, places such asthe Oneida Comnruni ty," Brook l -arm7 and l ) rop Ci ly.8 These utopiascxistcd outside of the dominant American culture, either by activelyresisting the state or by choosing to l ive independent l ives alongside theprevail ing socio-polit ical apparatuses of federal, state and local govern-ments. Oak Ridge marks a distinct break with this tradition in Americanutopianism in that it was actually established by the federal govern-ment. Residents of Oak Ridge were not seeking an alternative from themainstream American culture; in fact Oak Ridge was a community ofheightened patriotism dedicated to the All ied cause of World War II. Itsought not to smash the dominant American value system or to skirt thecultural norms, but to celebrate and defend thcm. Yet Oak Ridge wasno less utopian in its aims. First, as an isolated community of unitedworkers dedicated to a single industry, Oak Ridgers were l iving in aplanned environment designed as a precursor to the suburbs that wouldradically reshape the American landscape in the dccades to come. Then,

162 Happy Metnories utrder tlrc Mttshrootn Cloud

after the war, ()ak Ridgers displayed utopianism in their belief that ourlives could be completely remade and reorganized through the develop-ment of atomic energy, and that they would have some responsibil i tyfor th is t ransformat ion.

Absent from cartographic representation or newspaper columns, hid-den to protect it from possible enemy attack, Oak Ridge, Tennessee wasthe flrst ideal scientiftc community in the USA; Francis Bacon's (1919)New Atlantis brought to life. The industries of Oak Ridge were devoted tonuclear physics and to solving the problem of how to create an atomicbomb before the Axis powers. Meanwhile, the planners of Oak Ridgesought to produce an ideal American town, nearly overnight. Their goalwas to provide as much comfort and stimulation as they could to theresidents in order to ensure productivity in the atomic factories, whileat the same time maintaining a high security military reservation.

Despite the restrictions placed on residents, including the inabil ityto talk about their jobs, security checks at city gates and the possibil-ity that whomever you socialized with could be a government informer,many people describe this period of l i fe in Oak Ridge as idyll ic. As longas Oak Ridge remained 'the city behind the fence,' many of its resi-dents saw it as utclpian, an island of culture, prestige and intell igencetucked away from the surrounding communities and the outside world.Oak Riclge was an ideal city where unemployment was non-existent,where the school system was far above the national average and whereuniversal hcalthcare provided the most advanced medical services avail-able. Meanwhile a free bus systern criss-crossed the city, taking residentsnot only to work, but also to the plethora of cultural opportunitiesavailable at nearly all horrrs fror.r.r symphonic-s to dances to organizedsports leagues. Perhaps these advantages, especially during the scarcityof wartime, explain why many were in opposition to the opening of thegates and why they were hosti le to the process of normalization that theAEC init iated in 7949.

C)nce the city was normalized, the problem of Oak Ridge became aquestion of identity; its challenge was to sell i ts uniqueness, both as acrown jewel in national security and as a global player in scientif ic brain-power. Init ially, Oak Ridge sought to present itself as playing a key rolein the future of atomic energy. Then, as the Cold War slowly thawed,attention was directed toward the preservation of the towrr's utopianmoment, its role in the historic Manhattan Project, as one of the threetop-secret cit ies devoted to building the first atomic bomb. Frorn theflrst opening swing of the gates, Oak Ridge has sought to celebrate andlegitimize its role in winning World War II and in the development of

Lindsey A. Freetnatt 163

atomic energy, and since the very beginning the town has attemptedto tell this story through the AMSE. In the following, I will trace themuseum's initial atomic optimism to its current state of atomic nos-talgia. I will argue that both dispositions are mystifying positions thatthwart critical analysis of the use of the atomic bomb against Japan, aswell as the problematics of nuclear energy in general.

Atomic utopianism on display

The American Museum of Atomic Energy offered a spectacular and sexyintroduction to the possibil i t ies of atomic energy and scientif ic advance-ment. The message of the museum was clear: our l ives are getting betterall the time thanks to science and technology. Left out of this celebra-tion was any discussion of the destructive elemerlts of scientific progressor the gruesome after-effects of the atomic bombs that were droppedon Japan. The true horrors of war and the potential dangers of f lssion-able materials both at home and abroad were hidden behind the overtutopianism of the displays.

While the museum's focus was ' ' l 'he Atorn and Man,' the virtues ofscientif ic and technological knowledge in general were celebrated. Forexample, there was a robcltics exhibit featuring a set of mechanicalhands that coulcl take care of l ight tasks. lr.r the (near) future therewould be no need for such exertions. The flrst person to demonstratethe dexterity of the robotic digits was the actress and chanteuse Marie'The Body' MacDonald; she volunteered her cigarette. As the Holly-wood vixen gracefully leaned forward, her cigarette protruding from itselegant holdcr, the paper was ignited and successfully l i t, as elegantlyperhaps as Clark Gable could have done (McCarthy 1987, p. 379).

Long after opening day the museum continued to be a curiosity forvisitors, both local and from very far away, attracting those who wereinterested in science and energy, as well as those who wanted to getcloser to the power of the atom. One way that visitors were able toincrease their proximity to atomic energy was through some ratherodd souvenirs. Iror example, between 1949 and 1967 visitors could walkaway with an irradiated dime - the charge would be neutralizecl by thetime they reached the parking lot - but for a few seconds they couldpossess a bit of radiation, hold it in their hands and put it in their pock-ets. Even Miss Universe of 1966, Aspasra Hor-rgsakula of Thailand, gotin on the action as you can see in Figure 9.2. However, the irradiateddimes were not the only souvenir that promised owning a bit of atomicenergy (even if untapped); during the fift ies ancl sixties visitors could

164 Hoppy Memories wrder the lvlushrcorn Cloud

Figure 9.2 Miss Univcrse of 1966 receives irradiated dimes at the ArnericanMuseum of Atomic [,nergy in Oak Ridge, 'l'ennessee, Courtesy of Oak RidgeAssociated Universit ies

also purchase uranium ore from the gift shop. Encased in plastic andembossed with the museunt's logo, tourists were able to take away theraw material for producing an atomic bomb (ORAU,2OIO). As the spec-tacle of celebrit ies on opening day obscured some of the ugly truthsregarding the atornic bombing of Japan, later the souvenirs worked todomesticate the dangers of radiation in general, atter all how bad couldit really be if you could carry it around in your pocket?

Originally located in a former wartime cafeteria, the AmericanMuseum of Atomic Energy was the flrst atomic museum in the USA;now there are many, including the National Museum of Nuclear Sci-ence and History in Albuquerque, New Mexico,e the Atomic TestingMuseum in Las Vegas, Nevada, and the B-Reactor Museum in Richland,Washington. These museums are important in that they are among theonly cultural institutions sti l l discussing nuclear weapons. They influ-ence the American public's ideas about the history of the bomb, whileat the same time they seek to legitimize this history for an internationalaudience. l'he fact that these museums remain largely uncritical andnationalistic damages the possibil i ty for debate regarding the US nuclearpast, present and future.

Litdsey A. Freernatt 165

With the end of World War II and the beginning of the Cold Warthe AEC felt a need to control the message surrounding the atotnicbomb and atornic energy in general. Along with the Oak Ridge Insti-tute of Nuclear Studies, the AEC created the trrst atomic museum withthe init ial stated goal of educating the public by providing informa-tion in non-scientific terms. For the first two months of the museum'sexistence there was a lot of 'educating'; more than 15,000 visitors fromacross the USA and from 25 foreign countries visited and absorbed ther.rationalistic and pro-nuclear rlessage on display (ORAU, 2010). Fromthe beginning the AMSE sought to put into context the intricacies of theManhattan Project and the work that occurred in Oak Ridge at the ura-nium production plants.r0 lt aided in the crystall ization of a very recentmemory for the residents, and created a story for outsiders to absorb.The exhibits put a positive spin on the decision to use the atomic bombagainst Japan, as well as the procluction of uraniuln for peacetime pur-poses and security, thus legitimizing Oak Ridge's role during World WarII, the Cold War and beyond. The museum was utopian in its vision thatatomic energy could provide a safer and better future for all. This sen-timent is echoed in the slogan 'Atoms for Peace!' that was used by themuseum in t l re f i f t ies and sixt ics.rr

The American Museum of Science and Energy

By the seventies nuclear sloganeering had lost much of its original pur-chase in the USA. Nationally, the emotions of bewilderment, fear, dreadand ambivalence replaced the hopefulness once attached to atomicenergy. The cries of 'Not in my backyard!' drowned out those who sti l lwhispered 'Atoms for Peace!' Yet, many Oak Ridgers past and presentremained convinced that their unique history as a secret city of theManhattan Prolect is akin to a technological Shangfi-La.lz This imageof an idyllic existence is perl-raps no more apparent than in the seriesof rooms at the AMSE that detail Oak Ridge's role in the ManhattanProiect. This portion of the museum came to fruit ion in 1975, whenthe museum r.noved from its first location in tl.re ramshackle wartimecafeteria to a new modern two-storey builcl ing. Replete with black andwhite photographs, objects and products from the forties, this wing cel-ebrates American victory culture, consumerisnt and citizenship IacksonandJohnson 1981, p.31).rr I t is a space where nostalgia reigns.

Yet, it should be noted that the 'Secret City' room is not completely aprovincial affair; from 1975 to the present, in addition to images of locall it 'e there are also displays of national newspapcr hcadings and various

::i*;hf

166 Hoplrv Mcnnri('s und('r tlrc Llttslrroottt Cloud

documents and images from World War II. Since 2008, to enter the'Secret City' room the visitor must first snake through a curvilinear struc-ture that begins with a mounted television screen flashing black andwhite images of the Third Reich. Once inside the visitor is confrontedwith a plexiglass display, where Nazis goosestep across the visual plane,the mini-mustachioed Hitler performs his famous salute, the it inerary ofthe Enola Gay is mapped and a brief description of the first atomic bombdropped on Hiroshima is offered. To counter the vil lains, who are easilyrecognized, the museum casts the heroes of World War II: the US mili-tary'our boys overseas,' Oak Ridgers, along with other Americans whoare 'doing their part for the war effort ' and the international cohort ofscientists - ' the greatest minds in the world' - who worked on the sideof the All ies.

The most famous of these minds resides in the skull of Albert Einstein,who appears more times in the museurl than any other historical actor.Through the figure of Einstein, the AMSE's outlook toward the atomicbomb and the scientif ic uses of nuclear energy can be easily ascertained.Einstein's presence is reassuring; of all the nuclear physicists, he is themost recognizable, his genius the most trusted and his corporality themost comforting.' lypically pictured as wild haired and sweater clad, heplays the comforting grandfathe'r to Oppenheimer's rakish and slightlyunsettl ing charms. Frorn the opening scene of the tnuseunr Einsteinplays a starring rcllc, a painting of the scientist hangs in the mezza-nine directly above thc information desk. The scientist pops up againin the portion of the museull l dedicated to the Y-12 National Security(lomplex;' ' here Einstein is a ghostlv ir 'nage visible in the backgroundof a poster that shouts ' l)efending'l 'hc. Free World,' where he looks oversome papers with fellow scientist, Lco Szilard.rs

The third most obvious place.rnent of l, l instein exists on the lower levelof the AMSE where the scientist is rendered in the Madarne Tussaudstyle, next to him a card states: 'He laid the groundwork for splitt ingatoms.' There is also a copy of a letter that he wrote from Long Islandto President Roosevelt in 1939, urging development <lf an atonlic f issionprograrx. Left out, however, is Einstein's cctrrcspondence to Rooscvelt in1945 retluesting that the program be stopped. 'fhe complexity of his feel-ings toward the bomb are missing, making it appear as though Einsteinhad given a rousing endorsement. This absence countered by his omni-scient presence throughout the museurn makes it appear as though notonly,does Einstein wholeheartedly support the Manhattan Project, butalso all the US Homeland Security measrlres that have been taken at theY-12 plant in response to the 'global threat of terrorism,' as proclaimedby the rnuseum's displays. As with Marie 'The Body' MacDonald, the

Lindsey A. Freernott 167

celebrity spectacle of Einstein helps to distract the visitor, to distanceand obscure the dangers of nuclear rnaterials, and to mask the realit iesof the destructive pasts and potentials of nuclear weapons'

Atomic nostalgia in black and white

ln 2OO9, Oak Ridge's nostalgic sheen was polished unti l i t glowed. Sixtyyears had passed since the Sates to the town were opened ceremoni-ously by ribbon burning. In order to mark the occasion on 21 March, ahistorical re-enactment of the event was held, complete wlth the origi-nal speeches and even girl scouts dressed in the uniforms of the forties.Although the turnout was quite low in comparison to the gate open-ing of 1949, a ritual of rernembrance was undoubtedly performed. Inkeeping with the origir.ral day, the celebration of the town's opennesswas followed by a special event at the museum. The AMSE hosted ashowing of the new documentary by Kcith Mcl)aniel, Operation OltenSesorne: Opening tlrc Gates o['the Sccrct CiQ, and a retro admission price ofa quarter was charged.

In the summer of 2009, to celebrate the dual anniversary of thegate and museLlm openings, the AMSF, held a retrospective exhibitof the photographs of [d Westcott, the official Army photographerfor the Manhattan Proiect. Westcott was the only person allowed totake pictures of the creation of the town, as well as the only pho-tographer given access to the top-secret factories and their workers.Westcott 's highly stagecl photographs dePict patriotic sentiments, aprotestant work ethic anti wholesome family values. Positioned in thefirst room of the museum, they set the tone for the visitor. Perhapsmore than any other object or rrluseum display, these photographsevoke nostalgic emotious, the lorrging for the golden age of Americancul ture. 'o

The exhibit features two-dimertsional Kodak teenagers in lettersweaters and knee-length skirts doir.rg 'the twist, ' women tending Vic-tory gardens and swarms of smiling workers fi l ing out of the K-25 plantduring a shift change, among other evocative photographs of mass sac-rif lce for the war effort.rT One of the most recognizable images is thatof the 'Calutron Girls, ' snapped by Westcott in 1945.'8 The 'CalutronGirls' photograph shows two rows of young white women working inthe Y-12 plant, monitoring multiple dials ernbedded in tall, gray metalcolumns. In acldit ion to i l luminating the role of the generic (white)worker, the photographs provide evidence that wot]len played a partin the war effort; Rosie the Riveter lays down her rivet gun to observe an

168 Happy Memories uncler the Mushroorn Cloud

Figure 9.-) The 'calutron Girls'. Ecl westcott, courtesy of National Archives andRecords Aclm inistration

electromagnetic separation dial.r" Row upon row of these women canbe imaginecl in multiple rooms stretcl.ring out l ike so many Til ler girlsacross the stage.2o The description that the German sociologist SiegfriedKracauer gives to the Til ler dancers c.uld easily be applied to the work-ers in oak Ridge: 'These products of Arncrican clistraction factories areno longer individual girls, but indissoluble girl clusters whose move-ments are demonstrations of mathematics, ( 1995, pp. 75_6). The imageconveys the enormous scope of the Manhattan project and its laoorintensity, where everyone is doing her part to achieve a collective goalt Figure 9.3 ) .

The image of the calutron Girls and the rest of the collected pho-tographs offer a very idealized version of the work that was clone at theatomic factories, even the African-American workers, who were giventhe least desirable lobs on the reservation, including carrying coal orcollecting the garbage, smile at the camera. perhaps not surprisingly,there is no counter-balancing exhibit of the destruction of the cit ies otJapan. Alone in another room is one figurative photograph of aJapanesesufferer. The entire business of the Manhattan project from start to

Litrdsey A. Frccnnur 169

hnish is simplif,ed: it is depicted in black and white. While an in-depthanalysis of Westcott 's catalog is not within the scope of this chapter,these examples should i l luminate the overall tone of the retrospectiveexhibit.

Instead of providing a space for an open discussion of nuclearweapons or even a glimpse of the catastrophic loss of civilian livesin Japan, the overly nationalistic space of the museum focuses ontwo seemingly contradictory elements to lustify the US nuclear past:American victory culture and American innocence. Sociologist StevenDubin paraphrases the idea of American victory culture in his work oncontroversial museum exhibits, from Disploys of Power:

[Victory culture] is a set of beliefs that dominated American think-ing since colonial t imes. A central precept was that savages - be theyIndians or the_f apanese in thcir sncak attack on Pearl Harbor - contin-uously provoked conflicts that Americans felt compclled to respondto, typically with vanquishing force.

(Dubin 1999, p. l f i8)

Victory culture goes hand in hand with the American culture of inno-cencc, the myth of a benevolent nation stripped of any lust for power. Itis a position of denial that ignores the role the USA has played in globalpcll i t ics, and instead presents the nation as a non-aggressive entity, onlyattacking when attacked (Sturken 2OO7, p.7).

The future of atomic nostalgia

Despite the fact that the adjective 'aJomic' was excised from its offi-cial name, exhibits dcvoted to the Manhattan Prolect sti l l dominatethe space of the museum. However, from the fift ies onward there havebeen many attempts to diversify the space, albeit within the constraintsof certain historical perspectives. The AMSE is a national museum,a Smithsonian affi l iate that is operated by the Oak Ridge Labs andthe Department of Energy contractors, University of Tennessee-Battelle.From the Manhattan Project to Cold War polit ics to Homeland Securitynew exhibits have been steadily added that reflect the polit ical moodsof the federal government and the corporatc cntit ies that remain closelyattached.

Yet the overly positive attitude toward science and technology inthe AMSE, while expectcd considering its backers, is questionable in amuseurn that owes its l i fe and content to a town that was created for

170 Happy Metrutries wuler tlrc Mushroon Clorul

the sole purpose of the development of the atomic bomb. However, onthis point the message of the museum is clear: (1) The use of atomicweapons was absolutely necessary. (2) The use of the atomic bomb accel-erated the end of the war, saving thousands of lives, both American andJapanese. (3) The end of World War II subsequently led to an age ofnuclear deterrence and to a world safer for democracy. This stance is notunique in American museums. As the sociologist Matt Wray points outin his recent article on the Atomic Test Site Museum: 'Few museums oftechnology ever stray from the ideological path that equates technolog-ical advances with human progress and cultural and moral superiority,(Wray 2006, p. a83). From the first American Museum of Atomic Energyin Oak Ridge to the Smithsonian's Enola Gay controversy to the AtomicTest Site Museum, America's relationship with the atomic bomb, as dis-played in the museal context, has historically been celebratorv ratherthan crit ical.

How, then, can the history of the Manhattan Proiect and of nuclearweapons in general be told in a museum setting in a more complexway? Several curators who have attempted to tell various sides of thestory in the USA have come up against incredible opposition. Impticitin the debate over displays of the atomic bombing of Japan is the ten-sion between historical representation and commemoration.'fhe mostpublic of these mnemonic battles was the Smithsonian Enola Gay con-troversy. 'Ihe exhibit at the National Air and Space Museum, whicheventually became ' ' l 'he Last Act: The Atomic Bomb and the End ofWorld War I I , 'was or ig inal ly conceivecl in l9U7 as'From Guernica toHiroshima - Bombing in Worlci War tl. 'This tit le drew vitriol from manyveterans'groups who strongly opposecl any display that would call intoquestion the absolute necessity ancl sotrnd jr.rclgment involved in theatomic bombings. Steven Dubin, who studiecl the event, has suggestedthat the original provocative display cotrl i l be construed as ,parallelingfascist atrocities with American actions' (Dubin 1999, p. 188). WorldWar II was an extremely popular war for Americans; it has been calledthe 'Great War,' the Just War' and the war fought by the ,GreatestGeneration.' Challenging a heroic version of a national past throughmuseum spaces has proven to be extremcly diff icult. As the sociologistVera Zolberg explains:

[M]useums have become arenas in which the reconstruction of the' past is frequently at issue. They are, arguably, institutions in which a

nation's qualit ies are 'written'br 'displayed.' C)pen to the public andcxplicit ly intended to clraw attention to thcir exhibits, they serve as

Lirdsey A. I-reenntr 171

sites of celebration of events in which patriotism or, at the least, asentiment of national cohesiveness is evoked.

(Zolberg 1998, p. 583)

The Smithsonian is certainly not the only museum that has faced thischallenge. Anothcr muscum that has battled the problem of commem-oration is the Atomic Testing Museum in Las Vegas, Nevada. The newdirector, Will iam Johnson, has expressed his desire for the museum to'become a kind of open public space, where visitors will learn abt>ut thehistory of the science and technology at the site and where experts andlaypeople can find common languages to discuss highly charged contro-versies and debates,' to create a 'venue for all things nuclear' (fohnsonquoted in Wray 2006, p. 406). Despite Johnson's best intentions for anuclear public sphere, the museum has become, l ike the AMSE, a puppetfor the Department of linergy.

What, then, l ies ahead for the atomic spaces, l ike Oak Ridge? Itremains to be seen how museums will deal with the nuclear past inthe future. If they wil l continue to pile more and more clistractingthernes into their exhibits, trying to encompass history, science andnational agendas or if they wil l be able to develop more effective waysof tell ing a complicated past that the public wil l accept. At this point itis unclear whether new sites of nuclcar memory wil l fall victim to thesame tropes of scientism and nationalism that have plagued the AMSE,the Smithsonian and the Atornic 1'esting Museum, to name a few.

As the original creators of Oak Ridge coast into middle age, OakRidgers have begun to ask themselves how they want to remember theirpast. At present, plans are in the works to create a new museum inOak Ridge. Former employees of the Manhattan Project as well as localpreservation groups were hopinglo save a portion of the massive K-25building. While contamination issues prevented this from happening,another site has been proposed, the K-25 History Center. The proposedsite, although not on the original grounds, would contain a 'withdrawalalley fitted with authentic World War II process equipment' and an'interpretive center focused on the methods pursued at Oak Ridge toproduce enriched uranium' (Smith 2OO9). In addition to its didacticfeatures, the K-25 site would also include examples of what historianand memory scholar Alison Landsberg calls 'experiential ' space, wherethe visitor experiences elements of the past physically (Landsberg 1997,p.74).Or, as D. Ray Smith suggests in a recent article in Tlrc Oak Ridger(2OO9), the museum will 'allow visitors to delve deeply into the richnessof the culture and exhibits of seeing thc real thittg, the real equipment,

172 Happy Mennries utrder the lt4usltrtnrn Cloud

smelling the place, and knowing one is where it actually happened.' Ifthis museum space is realized it wil l introduce additional layers of phys-icality - olfactory, optical arld tacti le, with the intention of creating theaura of being in the actual atomic laboratory c. 7945, even though it wil lbe a newly created site. However, if brought to fruit ion, we can expectthat the new site will be doubly stripped of danger, where the rlarrativesas well as the equipment wil l be sanitized for consumption, yet againmissing a chance to re-evaluate the nation's atomic history and nuclearfuture.

Other proposals for the new space describe a schizophrenic distractionfactory. Murals illustrating the history of Oak Ridge have been proposed,as well as an expansion of the current AMSE, and many commercialactivit ies, including a brew pub, roller skating rink, squash courts, bicy-cle rental store and a performing arts center. As the ntarketabil ity ofhistorical spaces continues to grow, it could be possible for the grand-children and great grandchildren of the original C)ak Ridgers to receivean entirely new type of mnemonic socialization; they could roller skatethrough the K-25, while their parents enjoy a micro-brew at the localuranium-themed pub. While all of this activity promises pleasure andfun, what about the r-rasty history of the borlb itself? Is it possible thatwe wil l see a new narrative regarding Oak Ridge's past and the trajectoryof nuclear weapons in general?

The fact that rnany former Manhattan Project workers are leading thecharge for the new atomic nluseunls is potentially problematic, as theytend to be among thc least crit ical or questioning of the atomic past.AIso, if the new r-nuseum gains funding frorn the Departrlent of Energyand the Smithsonian lnstitute, l ike the current AMSE, then undoubtedlythe museum will adhere to a positive interpretation of the US nuclearrecord.

Atomic nostalgia, l ike the scientif ic utopianism that came before,masks real-life realities of destruction and atrocity. The fog under thehappy mushroorn cloud creates an environment where crit ical thoughtis choked. The result is a loss in the potential to engage in debatesregarding n-rany important issues facing the USA and the world at large,such as the use of nuclear weapons, the clean-up of 'hot' spaces and thepower of the federal government to reshape and reorganize the land-scape. With new opportunities for sites of memory it is possible thatthis trend toward scientif lc and atomic nostalgia could be reversed. Butcan a pause be created in the steady stream of celebration to ponderthe destruction and atrocity that has resulted not only from the atomicbomb, but other large-scale scientif ic and technological projects as well?

Lirdsey A. Freertutr 17.\

Unfortunately, the current trajectory in museum planning seems to bemoving toward more of the same, new spectacular displays to celebrateold spectacular displays, more happy memorie's under the mushroomcloud: 'The first t ime as tragedy, the second as farce' (Marx 1998, p. 15).

Notes

1. The tiny mushroom of smoke was the result of an electrical irnpulse generatedfrom the Oak Ridge National Laboratory's uranium chain-reactor that iSnitedthe ribbon, which had been treated with potassium chlorate and magnesiumin order to make a loud pop.

2. Of course this was decades before GoopJle Earth and the nearly successfulproiect of mapping thc cntire globe.

.1. ' l 'he American Museurn of Atomic Energy was the original name of themuseum. lt was changed in 1978 to the American Museum of Scienceand Energy. According to a currcnt staff mernber at the AMSE, the changc''reflected the expanded programs in all energy alternatives and encrgyresearch. ' t lmail interview with Jim Cornish, 20 November 2006.

4. 'The Greatest Generation' is a term coined by thc' jountal ist lbm Brokaw it this 1998 book of thc same name.

5. ' l 'he data presented in this chaptt 'r were gatht 'ret l through a combina-t ion of ethnography, part icipant observation, archival research and cri t-ical tourisrn. Fieldwork for t tr is project was conducted independently inOak Ridge, 'l'ennessee in December and March 2007, l)ecenrber 2008 andAugust 2009. Additional archival research was condttcted on-site at theAMSL,. The ethnographic and archival material col lected was analyzed usitrgqualitative sociology, interpretive methods, and discourse and historicalanalysis.

6. ' l 'he Orreicla Community was founded in l tJ4t i in Oneida, New York, byJohnHurnphrey Noyes. The community bel ieved that Jesus had already returnedto earth in the vear 70, and therefore i t was possible to be free of sin and tocreate a perfect kingdorn in this worltl.

7. Brook Farm was a transcendental utopian community founded by the formerUnitarian minister George Ripley and his wife Sophia Ripley. l t- tspired at leastin part by Charles Fourier, the community was dedicated to communal l iv ingand the balance of passions through work and leisure.

8. Drop City was an art ists'community located in Colorado from 1965-70.Community members were inspired by the designs and ideas of BucktninsterF-uller, who argued that because of our advanced stage of industrializa-tion our options for the future were now limited to only two: utopia orobl ivion.

9. The National Museum of Nuclear Scicnce and History was originally knownas the National Atomic Museunr, yet another exanrple of the historicizing ofthe once imagined atomic future.

10. l 'here was also a pi lot plutonium procluction plant located in Oak Ridge, theX-10 plant. However, the plutonium enrichment process was mainly carr iedout at the Hanford, washington site.

171 Happy L,ltrtnries uruler tlrc Mushntotn CIttutI

11. 'l'his slogan was take' from a speeclr that presicrerrt Eisenhower gave of tl-resame nanle to the Llnited Nations General Assembly on g Decemder 195.1.12. ln fact, at one point the suggested name for Oak Ridge was Shangri_La, autopian paradise f irst described i . the novel, Lost H'r izo, by lamei Hi l ton(.1947). Shangri-La is rocated in a mystical val ley that is isolatei and protectedfrom mankind, and ironical lv i t is also a haven from war.

l . l . lhere is more to be said about the rore that these photograprrs play in theoveralr environment of nostalgia that permeates the rnuieum ,puaa toauy;I wi l l return to this topic later in the chapter when I exprore the specialphotography exhibit held in the summer of-2OO9.14' The Y-12 plant was init iai lv created to produce enricheci uranium for theManhattan Project by means of erectromagnetic separation. y-12 is

' .w a uS

_ - I)epartment of Finergy Nationar Nuclear Security Administratiorr facility.1-5. Here images of Einstein and Szi lard are used as props to borster the US t iome_land security agcnda. Both Szi lard and Einstein later felt ambivalent aboutthe use of the bomb, even though they initially encouraged research in that

, , direct ion. Szi lard, especialrv became an avit l cr i t ic of the us cora war porrcres.16. I t should be noted that Ed westcott 's photographs are a mainstay of themuseum. This exhibit marks an e xpansion of the westcott photographs thatare permanentl l '<;n display at the AIvfSE.17. ' l 'he K-25 plant used the process of gaseous dif fusion in order to transtormuranium-238 to the f issionable uranium_2.15.18 A calutron was a r.ass spectrometer used for separating uraniurn isotopes. I twas created by lrrnest o. Lawrence at the Berkerey rabs of the univeriity ofCali forr-r ia for which i t takes part of i ts name.19. ' l 'here arc no Afr ican-Amcricin calutron gir ls in the picture because l ike therest of the South at that t ime, Oak Ridge was st i l l pruit i . i 'g segregation.20. ' l 'he Ti l lcr Gir ls were a clance troupe createt l bv John . l . i l ler in Manchesrer,Engla.d in the earry 19(x)s. ' r 'hey wer.. characterized by their u' i formity anduncanny abi l i ty to r lancc as a uni t .

References

Bacon, Francis. 1919. 'New Atlantis, ' i r t l t leal Corrtrtr tnrwealth.s. New york: L,. lr .l )utton ancl Co, pp. l70-21:1.Brokaw, 'lbm. 19B8. Tlte Greatest Generatiort. New york: Random House.Dubin, Steven c. 1999. Disprays of power:Menrcry ontr Anrnesia in the AmerrcatrL,luseunt. New York: New york University l)ress, pp. lg6-226.Hilton, James. 1947. Lost Horizorr. New york: 'r'he worl<t publishing Compa'y.Jackson, charles o. and charles w. Johnson. 1981. Cit7, Behind a Fince: oi* n'irtge,Tctutesst 'e 1912-1916. Knoxvi l le, TN: University of Tennessee press.Krackauer, Siegfried and rhomas y Levin. 199s. ,-ihe mass ornamen t,, in The Mass_ Ornanrcnt: Weintar Essays. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University press, pp_ 75_g9.Landsberg, Al ison. 1997. 'America, the Holocaust, and the mass culture of'memory: toward a radicar politics of empathy.' New cernnn critique 71,pp. 63-86.

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Littdsey A. I:recmart 175

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sttrrken, Marita. 2oo7 . Ttnn'ists of Historl,- Durham, NC: Duke Llniversity l)ress.wray, Matt. 2006. 'A blast fronr the past: preserving an<1 interpreting t'he atomic

age.' Atnericatr (lnrtcrly 58, pp. 467-U:).Zolberg, Vera L. 1998. 'contested relDembrancc.: the Hiroshir la exl) ibi t contro-

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