Page 15 of The Women of Oak Ridge

JONAS TURNED OUT to be a knowledgeable tour guide.

He first drove through town, pointing out interesting landmarks and World War II-era buildings that had been repurposed into offices and other uses.

“Growing up here,” he said, “I didn’t fully appreciate the history that surrounded me every day.”

We sat in rocking chairs on the long front porch of what was once the Guest House during the war.

Now the Alexander Motor Inn, I couldn’t help but imagine the various Manhattan Project VIPs who’d stayed in the two-story lodge, sitting on this very porch, looking out over the secret town.

People like General Groves, Secretary of War Henry Stimson, and famous physicist and project scientist J.

Robert Oppenheimer, none of whom used their real names when they signed the guest register.

Even physicist Enrico Fermi, the man credited with building the first nuclear reactor, went by the alias “Mr. Farmer” during his stay at the Guest House.

“I imagine most of us take for granted what we see every day. The familiar doesn’t usually leave a lasting impression on us.

” I pointed to the tennis courts just down the hill from the inn.

“I read that dances were held there when the courts weren’t being used for tennis.

That sounds fun, dancing under the stars of a summer sky to Big Band music. ”

His brow rose. “So, you’re a romantic, not just an academic.”

I chuckled. “Maybe. I do appreciate the fact that young people like Aunt Mae, Georgeanne, and your parents had opportunities to relax and enjoy themselves despite the important work that was going on here. That must have helped them cope with being so far away from family.”

“Isolation and secrecy were both hard to deal with, according to Mom,” he said.

“She tells the story about a letter she received from her parents after she’d been in Oak Ridge a few months.

My grandmother told her not to write to them anymore, because all of Mom’s letters were full of blacked-out words and sentences.

Grandma couldn’t make sense out of anything Mom had written.

The people who censored the mail took their jobs seriously. ”

“Your dad said he met your mom at a dance.”

He nodded. “Would you like to walk over to Chapel on the Hill? That’s where they were married in 1946.”

We stepped off the front porch and made our way around to the back of the inn. A small, white chapel with a steeple sat at the top of a hill, overlooking the town.

“In the early days of Oak Ridge,” Jonas said, “there wasn’t any place for people to hold a church service. Some congregations met in the cafeteria or rec centers until this chapel was built.”

We climbed the steps to a covered entry. Jonas tried the door and found it unlocked, and we went inside. The stillness of the place felt peaceful.

“It’s a standard military chapel.” Jonas’s voice echoed in the small building. “All denominations used it. Baptists, Methodists, Catholics. Mom says a good number of couples were married here during the war.”

I moved up the aisle while Jonas remained near the door.

Wooden pews sat in rows on either side of me, and warm sunshine spilled through windows that lined the room.

I closed my eyes and could almost hear the old-timey hymns and sermons that filled this quaint church back in the 1940s.

I wondered if Aunt Mae ever attended services here.

According to Dad, she was quite active in her church nowadays.

We left the chapel and got back into the Bronco. Our next tour stop was the Y-12 plant site where Georgeanne and Jonas’s mother worked, but because it was still in operation as a national laboratory, we didn’t try to enter through the highly guarded gate.

“If you’re interested, we can grab lunch at Big Ed’s.” Jonas grinned. “They’re known for having the best pizza pies in town.”

I glanced at my watch. It was already after one o’clock. “I really should get back and check on Aunt Mae. She wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

He seemed a little disappointed, which surprised me.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I thought we could drive out to K-25 after lunch.

We can’t go inside, but I can get us onto the site.

You really should see how gigantic the building is.

” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Besides, I’ve enjoyed being your tour guide today. ”

I’d liked his company too. “I do want to see the plant where Aunt Mae worked.”

“Are you free tomorrow afternoon, say around three o’clock?”

“I hate to take up more of your time.”

He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Like I said, it was nice revisiting Oak Ridge’s history with you today. I’m reminded of why our little town is so special.”

“Then I’ll take you up on your offer,” I said, unexpectedly pleased with the prospect of being with him again the following day.

When we arrived at Elliot’s house, I declined Jonas’s invitation to come inside. “Thank you for taking time to show me around. If you ever decide to leave the police department, you could give tours of Oak Ridge.”

He laughed. “I think I’d rather catch bad guys, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

He waited while I climbed into my car and backed out of the driveway.

With a wave, I headed to Aunt Mae’s, quite satisfied with how things had turned out.

Jonas was easy to talk to once he let down his police detective persona.

I’d learned many interesting things about Oak Ridge that weren’t found in the history books.

Aunt Mae sat in the shade of the porch when I pulled into the driveway. Another woman was with her. They both stood when I exited the car and approached.

“Laurel, come meet my friend Velvet Maxwell.”

The older Black woman offered a gentle smile. “It’s good to finally meet you, Laurel. Your Aunt Mae has spoken of you and your family so often through the years, I feel as though I already know you.”

We shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you. It’s a beautiful afternoon to sit outside.” I turned to my aunt. “Are you feeling better?”

“I am.” She cast a mock glare at Velvet. “But I made the mistake of mentioning my headache to Velvet when she called earlier. She hustled right over with a chicken casserole and some chamomile tea.”

The other woman chuckled before she met my gaze. “Your aunt is as stubborn a woman as I’ve ever met. Never wants help with anything.”

I grinned. “It must run in the family. My dad is stubborn too.”

“I remember when Harris and your grandmother came to live in Oak Ridge.” Velvet glanced back to Aunt Mae. “You had a time gettin’ that young man to obey all your rules.”

“He was fifteen and had a mind of his own,” Aunt Mae said.

“How long have you and Aunt Mae been friends?” I asked.

Velvet smiled. “We met in 1944 at K-25. We both worked there. I understand you’re here gathering information about Oak Ridge for your dissertation.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve already interviewed Georgeanne, and this morning I met with Elliot Tyson.”

“Elliot?” Aunt Mae’s brow arched in surprise. “How did you know to get in touch with him?”

“Georgeanne gave me a list of people who might be interested in sharing their stories,” I said.

She huffed. “I should’ve known it was Georgeanne’s doing. Always meddling in business that doesn’t concern her.”

“Now Mae,” Velvet said, gentle rebuke in her voice, “you want Laurel’s trip to Oak Ridge to be successful, don’t you?”

I bit my bottom lip. The last thing I wanted was to cause trouble between friends. I was about to take Aunt Mae’s side in the conversation when she heaved a sigh.

“Of course I want Laurel to get the information she needs.” Her shoulders eased when our eyes met.

“It was thoughtful of Georgeanne to provide names of people interested in talking to you. I should have done that myself.” She glanced at her friend, a slight smile inching up her lips to replace the frown.

“How about Velvet? She and her husband Roonie both worked in Oak Ridge during the war.”

Velvet’s warm laughter told me after thirty-five years of friendship, she was used to dealing with my aunt.

“I doubt Laurel wants to hear about how I cleaned miles of concrete floors at the plant, or how Roonie worked on a railroad crew. I’m sure there are others who had important jobs whose stories would be far more interesting. ”

“I’d very much like to hear about your time at K-25,” I hurried to say. “And your husband’s job if he wouldn’t mind talking to me. Everyone who lived and worked in Oak Ridge had different experiences. I’m interested in hearing as many as I can.”

She studied me for a long moment before she gave a single nod. “All right. If you’d like, you can come by the church in the morning.”

At what must have been a puzzled expression on my face, she explained. “Roonie is a pastor these days. I work in the church office on Saturday mornings, helpin’ him get things ready for Sunday. It’ll be nice and quiet so we can talk.”

I took a pen from my purse and jotted down the address on the paper Georgeanne had given me earlier. “Thank you. I look forward to chatting with you both.”

Velvet took her leave then, giving Aunt Mae a hug, along with a reminder to rest.

After she drove away, we stayed on the porch, gently rocking in rockers that reminded me of those on the porch at the Guest House.

I told Aunt Mae about Jonas giving me a tour of the town and his invitation to continue tomorrow afternoon.

I didn’t mention he planned to take me to see K-25.

Hopefully Aunt Mae would be willing to answer some questions after I saw where she’d worked during the war.

It would help me fill in the blanks of her life in Oak Ridge.

We enjoyed Velvet’s delicious casserole for supper, then watched an old movie on television.

Before we readied for bed, I remembered my promise to help Aunt Mae with the garden.

But when I suggested I could change my plans with Velvet and Jonas tomorrow and instead take her to the nursery to purchase seeds and plants, she declined.

“Let’s wait until next week,” she said, followed by a yawn.

“You keep working on your research. There’s plenty of time to get some things planted.

And if we don’t, it isn’t the end of the world.

Oak Ridge has always had farmers markets in the summer.

Even back during the war, farmers brought their fresh produce to town.

Some sold chickens and milk outside the gates. ”

After we bid each other goodnight, I thought over the events of the day.

Thanks to Jonas, Elliot, and Georgeanne, I was well on my way to gathering the information I needed to write my dissertation.

When I’d asked Georgeanne and Elliot about how they felt after they learned of Oak Ridge’s role in making the bomb, their answers were similar to the mathematician from Los Alamos whom I’d interviewed.

They each expressed sadness about the devastation in Japan, but they were grateful the war came to an end.

So far no one expressed shame over anything they’d done at Oak Ridge.

Georgeanne admitted to feeling troubled and sorrowful that the atomic weapon killed so many innocent people, but she hadn’t felt personal guilt.

From what I’d read in my research, not even President Truman had second thoughts about his decision to use the bomb against Japan, despite learning of the devastation left in its wake.

Tomorrow promised to be another productive day.

While I looked forward to chatting with Velvet and Roonie, the unexpected opportunity to spend more time with Jonas sent a slight flutter through my belly.