More information of a technical nature started to filter into the media on Saturday and reached the ears of my dad in Atlanta. He served on some Nuclear Wessels while in the navy and had learned quite a bit about nuclear physics himself. He had worked some figures and realized that if the people at the plant didn’t figure out what to do, they would have a full meltdown. He had it figured to a particular time on Monday, but I don’t remember what the time was (sometime in the afternoon).
Dad got on the phone and tried to call us. He got the operator, who told him all lines were busy. Dad explained the situation, and the operator said she could try once, but that was it. In some amazing cosmic anomaly, the call went through.
My mother was, of course, oblivious to the depth of what was going on. We were completely in the dark. Dad brought her up to speed, told her to pack whatever we needed immediately, she would be meeting my uncle Sam at Baltimore-Washington International (BWI) Sunday morning and he was driving us to Atlanta. And we did. Mom packed clothes and stuff, but also the family German bible, the silver set, and family pictures. Sunday morning we left for the airport.
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