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Revealed: how a San Francisco navy lab became a hub for human radiation experiments

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Monday, November 25, 2024

Exposed: The Human Radiation Experiments at Hunters Point is a special report by the San Francisco Public Press, an independent non-profit news organization focused on accountability, equity and the environment. In September 1956, Cpl Eldridge Jones found himself atop a sunbaked roof at an old army camp about an hour outside San Francisco, shoveling radioactive dirt.Too young for Korea and too old for Vietnam, Jones never saw combat. Instead, he served in the cold war, where the threats to his life were all American.The previous year, Jones was one of thousands of US troops directly exposed to radiation during aboveground nuclear weapons tests in the Nevada desert.Now he was being exposed again, this time to lab-made “simulated nuclear fallout”, material that emitted some of the same ionizing radiation as the atomic bomb. The exercise at Camp Stoneman, near Pittsburg, California, was one of many in a years-long program conducted by a key military research facility, headquartered at a navy shipyard in a predominantly Black working-class neighborhood in San Francisco.A review by the San Francisco Public Press of thousands of pages of government and academic records, as well as interviews with affected servicemen, sheds new light on the operations of the US Naval Radiological Defense Laboratory at San Francisco’s Hunters Point naval shipyard. A new series launched on Monday in collaboration with the Guardian reveals that between 1946 and 1963, lab scientists knowingly exposed at least 1,073 servicemen, dockworkers, lab employees and others to potentially harmful radiation through war games, decontamination tests and medical studies.The analysis reveals the lab conducted at least 24 experiments that exposed humans to radiation, far more than past official reviews acknowledged. Safety reports also note dozens of accidents in which staff received doses in excess of federal health limits in effect at the time.Researchers at the lab tracked the exposure of workers trying to clean ships irradiated by an atomic bomb test. Soldiers were ordered to crawl through fields of radioactive sand and soil. In clinical studies, radioactive substances were applied to forearms and hands, injected or administered by mouth. Top US civilian and military officials pre-approved all of this in writing, documents show.The records indicate that researchers gained limited knowledge from this program, and that not everyone involved had their exposure monitored. There is also no sign the lab studied the long-term health effects on people used in the experiments or in surrounding communities, either during the lab’s heyday or after it closed in 1969.Radioactive samples were placed on forearms, where beta radiation could cause burns. Photograph: American Industrial Hygiene Association JournalThe navy’s San Francisco lab was a major cold war research facility with a unique focus on “radiological defense”, techniques developed to help the public survive and armed forces fight back in case of an atomic attack. It was one node in a nationwide network that encompassed universities, hospitals and national labs that had permission to handle dangerous radioactive material. As one of the first such institutions under the control of the Pentagon, it was among the military’s largest and most important research hubs.In a sign of the era’s lax medical ethics and safety standards, lab directors advocated taking risks with human subjects without seeking informed consent or testing first on animals, according to the documents.These shortcuts appear to have contravened the Nuremberg Code, a set of ethical guidelines established after the horrors of Nazi experiments in concentration camps. Top civilian and Pentagon officials debated these principles. While some at the Atomic Energy Commission advocated strict rules, they were not consistently applied.Scientists later acknowledged they were ignorant of the long-term effects of their work.“We were aware of the signs, the symptoms and the damage that would be caused” by high levels of radiation, William Siri, a prominent University of California, Berkeley, biophysicist who cooperated with the lab to set up at least one experiment involving human exposure, said in a 1980 oral history. “But down at the low end of the dose range, no one was sure, and unfortunately no one is sure even to this day as to whether there is a threshold and what the very low levels would do.”One scientist developed a keen interest in elite athletes, who he theorized would be most likely to survive a nuclear conflict. In 1955, he negotiated with the San Francisco 49ers to use football players as subjects in a medical study. Letters between the lab and the team show researchers had formulated a plan to study body composition by having the men drink water laced with tritium, an isotope of hydrogen, and receive injections of radioactive chromium-51. Many years later, Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory investigators failed to find contemporaneous records confirming the experiment proceeded as planned, though a lab employee claimed he had witnessed it.‘Ethically fraught’The lab’s work and decades of warship repair left the shipyard, which the navy vacated in 1974, one of the most polluted sites in the country. The Environmental Protection Agency deemed it a Superfund site in 1989.Today, the 450-acre (182-hectare) parcel anchors the biggest real estate construction project in San Francisco since the 1906 earthquake. More than 10,000 housing units, hundreds of acres of parks and millions of square feet of commercial space are proposed.Critics say the navy has long downplayed a possible link between the pollution and poor health outcomes in the surrounding Bayview-Hunters Point neighborhood, which became majority Black by the 1960s, a transformation powered by the lure of shipyard jobs. Critics say the failure of the military to make the area safe amounts to environmental racism.Eldridge Jones served in the army’s 50th chemical platoon, participating in exercises that exposed him to radiation. He says his health issues may be related to research organized by the navy’s San Francisco laboratory. Photograph: Sharon Wickham/San Francisco Public PressIn the Pentagon’s response to detailed questions about the radiation lab’s research program and human exposure toll, navy spokesperson Lt Cdr Courtney Callaghan acknowledged the experiments as “a matter of historical record”, but declined to address their scientific merit or ethical significance.“The navy follows strict Department of Defense policies and responsibilities for the protection of human participants in DoD-supported programs and any research involving human subjects for testing of chemical or biological warfare agents is generally prohibited,” she said via email. She added: “The navy cannot speculate on possible internal deliberations or motivations of medical researchers more than 50 years ago.”Despite enjoying access to vast resources, the lab produced little in the way of valuable research, according to scientists who worked there and outside scholars. “It was fantastic,” former lab researcher Stanton Cohn said in an oral history interview in 1982. “We could buy any piece of machinery or equipment, and you never had to justify it.” In the end, he noted: “We did a lot of field studies and got nothing to show for it.”While routinely exposing humans in these “ethically fraught activities”, the lab often behaved like an institution in search of a purpose, said Daniel Hirsch, the retired director of the Program on Environmental and Nuclear Policy at the University of California, Santa Cruz, who has studied the shipyard in detail. Hirsch and other critics said the lab demonstrated a remarkable disregard for radiation’s hazards and a cavalier attitude toward human health, even by the permissive standards of the time.Thousands of servicemen participated in nuclear weapons tests, including Operation Teapot in Nevada in 1955. Photograph: National Nuclear Security Administration’s Nevada site officeThe 1955 opening of the lab’s “huge $8,000,000” bunkerlike headquarters building was front-page news that drew “some of the nation’s top civilian and military nuclear experts”, the San Francisco Examiner reported at the time. But today, the lab has been largely forgotten.In the early 2000s, journalist Lisa Davis revealed the enormous quantities of radioactive material the navy and scientists left at the shipyard and recklessly dumped at sea. This report expands on her brief mention of the lab’s medical and occupational experiments exposing people.While lab scientists did sometimes publish in scientific journals and lab imprints, the navy destroyed voluminous piles of original documents after the facility closed.Medical experiments on human subjectsRemaining files such as interagency memorandums, experiment proposals and technical papers indicate that human exposure was accepted up and down the chain of command, from Washington DC to the San Francisco docks, where as early as 1947 the navy knew that airborne plutonium was wafting off contaminated vessels.The ships had been battered by atomic weapons tests at Bikini Atoll in the Pacific Ocean and then towed to San Francisco, where hundreds of civilian shipyard workers were exposed in a vain attempt to clean them.The agenda then expanded to medical experiments on human subjects. Lab officials told the Pentagon in 1959 that they employed “minimal quantities of radioactive tracer material” in clinical studies, implying their techniques were safe, even though no one knew if this was true.In the mid-1950s, the lab developed what it called synthetic fallout: dirt or mud laced with the highly radioactive but short-lived isotope lanthanum-140, meant to mimic the poisonous material that could drift over US communities after a nuclear explosion. The lab exposed hundreds of troops and civilian personnel to this hazard in field exercises at military bases on the east side of San Francisco Bay, in rural Alameda and Contra Costa counties.Men in minimal protective gear clean a roof at Camp Stoneman in Contra Costa county in 1956. Photograph: Naval Radiological Defense LaboratoryThe synthetic fallout’s radioactive ingredient could cause cell damage to internal organs if inhaled. Jones, the former army corporal, said troops in his unit sometimes worked without adequate protective equipment.“Nobody had to go up on to the roof, and nobody had to do all this stuff by hand,” he said. “There were better ways to have done it. These scientists, they want the result and they don’t care about the people who are doing it for them.”Some study participants had radioactive dirt rubbed on their forearms to test the effectiveness of cleaning methods. Others were ordered to crawl on their bellies through fields covered in it, to simulate the doses soldiers would absorb while fighting in a fallout zone. In 1962, lab officials acknowledged that wind and rain carried the pollution away, potentially exposing unsuspecting members of the public.After a team from the lab detonated bombs laced with isotopic tracer elements underwater in the summer of 1961 around San Clemente Island, near San Diego, state game wardens working with researchers caught a radioactive fish, indicating unintended and potentially widespread ecological consequences. They brushed aside the discovery by noting that fish are typically gutted and presumably made safe before being eaten.Across a wide array of activities, lab documents describe participants as volunteers. But Jones disputed this. “In the military, they tell you what to do, and you do it,” he said, adding that if he declined or resisted, he risked discharge or imprisonment in the stockade.“We had to work in areas with a great deal of radioactive fallout and no one ever gave us an opportunity to opt out,” said Ron Rossi, who served with Jones in the army’s 50th chemical platoon at the Nevada test site. “It never occurred to us to even ask – just did what we were told to do.” Rossi spoke with the San Francisco Public Press in 2021 and 2022; he died last year, at age 89.Studying responses to nuclear disasters was part of the mission of the Naval Radiological Defense Laboratory. In 1955, navy hospital corpsman HN Stolan demonstrated protective equipment and Geiger counters. Photograph: San Francisco Examiner photograph archive at the Bancroft Library, University of California, BerkeleyLater Pentagon admissions support the veterans’ accounts. “There is little doubt that members of intact military units, which were sent to test sites to perform missions commensurate with their organizational purpose, were not given the opportunity to volunteer,” wrote navy V Adm Robert Monroe, a former director of the Defense Nuclear Agency, one of the successors of the Manhattan Project, the top-secret second world war atomic bomb project, in 1979.Hundreds of thousands of so-called atomic veterans were ordered to participate in Pacific island or stateside above-ground bomb tests, or served in Japan near Hiroshima or Nagasaki. The US government has, inconsistently, compensated many of them, as well as nuclear weapons workers. But many occupational or medical experiment participants have gone unrecognized despite clear signals they were in harm’s way.In correspondence with superiors at the Atomic Energy Commission and the Pentagon, as well as in a journal article, scientists described the amount of absorbed radiation as relatively low. But since their detection equipment was crude and unreliable, these could easily be underestimations. At other times, scientists acknowledged grave risks, while permitting participants to receive exposures past their own suggested limits.At least 33 times, the lab documented radiation doses “in excess of” evolving weekly, monthly or annual federal “maximum permissible exposure” limits, according to annual “radiological safety progress reports” from 1956, 1958, 1959 and 1960, obtained from the US Nuclear Regulatory Commission through a Freedom of Information Act request and from the Department of Energy’s Las Vegas archive.No evidence could be found that federal civilian nuclear regulators or the lab’s military supervisors imposed any discipline for safety lapses that violated federal regulations.Hazards persistThe navy’s San Francisco lab was one of many research centers and hospitals across the country that exposed people to radiation and other hazards for scientific purposes. That makes it a demonstration of “the ways that people have been seen as disposable, to science or to the military”, said Lindsey Dillon, a University of California, Santa Cruz, assistant professor of sociology who is among a handful of academics familiar with the lab’s history.“I do think it should shock and anger people,” she added. “They knew that radiation was not healthy.”The navy has spent more than $1.3bn to remove toxic and radioactive material from the site. Cleanup is poised to stretch through the 2020s, thanks in part to a contractor fraud scandal: two supervisors at an environmental engineering firm hired by the navy to clean up the shipyard received prison sentences after pleading guilty in federal court to faking soil samples. Retesting and several lawsuits are ongoing. Illustration: Reid Brown/San Francisco Public PressMilitary officials say these problems are surmountable and their remediation efforts will pay off.“The navy’s work at the former Hunters Point naval shipyard has been and is focused on identifying contamination and ensuring public health is protected during cleanup and into the future,” a spokesperson for the Naval Facilities Engineering Systems Command, the service’s office overseeing the shipyard cleanup, said in an email.The navy had been alerted to the radioactive pollution problem as early as 1984. Yet for decades, public health advocates and community activists said the navy misled neighbors about health risks, an assertion supported by a 2020 city-commissioned scientific panel from the University of California, San Francisco, and UC Berkeley.Beginning in 2019, an ongoing biomonitoring survey led by Dr Ahimsa Porter Sumchai, a physician and neighborhood native whose father worked at the shipyard, has detected traces of radioactive elements and heavy metals in the urine of people who live and work nearby. Some of them are workers at a UCSF lab-animal complex on former navy property that once housed rats, mice and other creatures used in radiation experiments. They have filed workers’ compensation claims alleging that exposure to radioactive and toxic pollution from the shipyard made them sick.Several elected officials who have enthusiastically backed the housing development, including former speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, who represents San Francisco in Congress, and outgoing mayor London Breed, expressed concern about environmental exposure without specifically addressing the lab’s history of human experimentation.In an email, Pelosi spokesperson Ian Krager called the shipyard “a neglected and contaminated neighbor to the Bayview-Hunters Point Community” and noted that the federal government had invested heavily in the cleanup.The military built its leading radiation lab in Hunters Point after ships from Pacific atom bomb tests returned ‘hot’. Photograph: National Archives and Records AdministrationHe said Pelosi’s priorities were “fighting to ensure the health and safety of Bayview-Hunters Point residents; requiring a transparent cleanup process that involves the community; holding the fraudulent contractor accountable; and insisting the navy fulfill its responsibility to fully clean up the shipyard”.Shamann Walton, who represents the Bayview and adjacent neighborhoods on the city’s board of supervisors, has called for the city to halt the development until all the pollution is gone. “We do have a say in determining whether or not any land is transferred to the city and county of San Francisco,” he said at a city hall hearing in September 2022. “Without a 100% cleanup, that land transfer does not take place.”The mayor’s office echoed these sentiments, but has not advocated pausing development. “The health and safety of San Francisco residents remain our highest priority,” a Breed spokesperson told the Public Press. “To this end, we remain committed to ensuring the navy’s remediation of the Hunters Point shipyard is thorough and transparent to the community.”It may be impossible to know exactly what harm the radiation exposure caused. Many survivors believe it to be a slow killer. Arthur Ehrmantraut, who served with Jones in the 1950s, said many men in the 50th chemical platoon died young. Others developed illnesses long after leaving the service. “I know that many had severe health issues, that, as with myself, manifested after 50 years,” he said.Jones, now 89, said he did not regret his army service. But he suspected reckless radiation exposure caused the illnesses and premature deaths of others in his platoon, and his own impaired blood flow and partial blindness.Experts agree that during the cold war, safety was secondary to precious knowledge that might give the United States an advantage in a nuclear third world war.“The US government was very, very interested in information about how radiation affects the human body, internally and externally,” said Bo Jacobs, a history professor at the Hiroshima Peace Institute in Japan and co-founder of the Global Hibakusha Project, which studies people around the world affected by radiation from nuclear weapons. As for how that information was obtained, he added, they didn’t much care: “They want data.”Additional reporting by Rebecca Bowe. Listen to episode 1 and episode 2 of her Exposed documentary podcast.Funding for Exposed comes from the California Endowment, the Fund for Environmental Journalism, the Local Independent Online News Publishers Association and members of the San Francisco Public Press. Learn more at sfpublicpress.org/donate and sign up for email alerts from the San Francisco Public Press when new stories in this series are published in December

Operations at a cold war lab exposed at least 1,073 people to radiation. Risks to the nearby communities persistExposed: The Human Radiation Experiments at Hunters Point is a special report by the San Francisco Public Press, an independent non-profit news organization focused on accountability, equity and the environment. In September 1956, Cpl Eldridge Jones found himself atop a sunbaked roof at an old army camp about an hour outside San Francisco, shoveling radioactive dirt. Continue reading...

Exposed: The Human Radiation Experiments at Hunters Point is a special report by the San Francisco Public Press, an independent non-profit news organization focused on accountability, equity and the environment.

In September 1956, Cpl Eldridge Jones found himself atop a sunbaked roof at an old army camp about an hour outside San Francisco, shoveling radioactive dirt.

Too young for Korea and too old for Vietnam, Jones never saw combat. Instead, he served in the cold war, where the threats to his life were all American.

The previous year, Jones was one of thousands of US troops directly exposed to radiation during aboveground nuclear weapons tests in the Nevada desert.

Now he was being exposed again, this time to lab-made “simulated nuclear fallout”, material that emitted some of the same ionizing radiation as the atomic bomb. The exercise at Camp Stoneman, near Pittsburg, California, was one of many in a years-long program conducted by a key military research facility, headquartered at a navy shipyard in a predominantly Black working-class neighborhood in San Francisco.

A review by the San Francisco Public Press of thousands of pages of government and academic records, as well as interviews with affected servicemen, sheds new light on the operations of the US Naval Radiological Defense Laboratory at San Francisco’s Hunters Point naval shipyard. A new series launched on Monday in collaboration with the Guardian reveals that between 1946 and 1963, lab scientists knowingly exposed at least 1,073 servicemen, dockworkers, lab employees and others to potentially harmful radiation through war games, decontamination tests and medical studies.

The analysis reveals the lab conducted at least 24 experiments that exposed humans to radiation, far more than past official reviews acknowledged. Safety reports also note dozens of accidents in which staff received doses in excess of federal health limits in effect at the time.

Researchers at the lab tracked the exposure of workers trying to clean ships irradiated by an atomic bomb test. Soldiers were ordered to crawl through fields of radioactive sand and soil. In clinical studies, radioactive substances were applied to forearms and hands, injected or administered by mouth. Top US civilian and military officials pre-approved all of this in writing, documents show.

The records indicate that researchers gained limited knowledge from this program, and that not everyone involved had their exposure monitored. There is also no sign the lab studied the long-term health effects on people used in the experiments or in surrounding communities, either during the lab’s heyday or after it closed in 1969.

Radioactive samples were placed on forearms, where beta radiation could cause burns. Photograph: American Industrial Hygiene Association Journal

The navy’s San Francisco lab was a major cold war research facility with a unique focus on “radiological defense”, techniques developed to help the public survive and armed forces fight back in case of an atomic attack. It was one node in a nationwide network that encompassed universities, hospitals and national labs that had permission to handle dangerous radioactive material. As one of the first such institutions under the control of the Pentagon, it was among the military’s largest and most important research hubs.

In a sign of the era’s lax medical ethics and safety standards, lab directors advocated taking risks with human subjects without seeking informed consent or testing first on animals, according to the documents.

These shortcuts appear to have contravened the Nuremberg Code, a set of ethical guidelines established after the horrors of Nazi experiments in concentration camps. Top civilian and Pentagon officials debated these principles. While some at the Atomic Energy Commission advocated strict rules, they were not consistently applied.

Scientists later acknowledged they were ignorant of the long-term effects of their work.

“We were aware of the signs, the symptoms and the damage that would be caused” by high levels of radiation, William Siri, a prominent University of California, Berkeley, biophysicist who cooperated with the lab to set up at least one experiment involving human exposure, said in a 1980 oral history. “But down at the low end of the dose range, no one was sure, and unfortunately no one is sure even to this day as to whether there is a threshold and what the very low levels would do.”

One scientist developed a keen interest in elite athletes, who he theorized would be most likely to survive a nuclear conflict. In 1955, he negotiated with the San Francisco 49ers to use football players as subjects in a medical study. Letters between the lab and the team show researchers had formulated a plan to study body composition by having the men drink water laced with tritium, an isotope of hydrogen, and receive injections of radioactive chromium-51. Many years later, Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory investigators failed to find contemporaneous records confirming the experiment proceeded as planned, though a lab employee claimed he had witnessed it.

‘Ethically fraught’

The lab’s work and decades of warship repair left the shipyard, which the navy vacated in 1974, one of the most polluted sites in the country. The Environmental Protection Agency deemed it a Superfund site in 1989.

Today, the 450-acre (182-hectare) parcel anchors the biggest real estate construction project in San Francisco since the 1906 earthquake. More than 10,000 housing units, hundreds of acres of parks and millions of square feet of commercial space are proposed.

Critics say the navy has long downplayed a possible link between the pollution and poor health outcomes in the surrounding Bayview-Hunters Point neighborhood, which became majority Black by the 1960s, a transformation powered by the lure of shipyard jobs. Critics say the failure of the military to make the area safe amounts to environmental racism.

Eldridge Jones served in the army’s 50th chemical platoon, participating in exercises that exposed him to radiation. He says his health issues may be related to research organized by the navy’s San Francisco laboratory. Photograph: Sharon Wickham/San Francisco Public Press

In the Pentagon’s response to detailed questions about the radiation lab’s research program and human exposure toll, navy spokesperson Lt Cdr Courtney Callaghan acknowledged the experiments as “a matter of historical record”, but declined to address their scientific merit or ethical significance.

“The navy follows strict Department of Defense policies and responsibilities for the protection of human participants in DoD-supported programs and any research involving human subjects for testing of chemical or biological warfare agents is generally prohibited,” she said via email. She added: “The navy cannot speculate on possible internal deliberations or motivations of medical researchers more than 50 years ago.”

Despite enjoying access to vast resources, the lab produced little in the way of valuable research, according to scientists who worked there and outside scholars. “It was fantastic,” former lab researcher Stanton Cohn said in an oral history interview in 1982. “We could buy any piece of machinery or equipment, and you never had to justify it.” In the end, he noted: “We did a lot of field studies and got nothing to show for it.”

While routinely exposing humans in these “ethically fraught activities”, the lab often behaved like an institution in search of a purpose, said Daniel Hirsch, the retired director of the Program on Environmental and Nuclear Policy at the University of California, Santa Cruz, who has studied the shipyard in detail. Hirsch and other critics said the lab demonstrated a remarkable disregard for radiation’s hazards and a cavalier attitude toward human health, even by the permissive standards of the time.

Thousands of servicemen participated in nuclear weapons tests, including Operation Teapot in Nevada in 1955. Photograph: National Nuclear Security Administration’s Nevada site office

The 1955 opening of the lab’s “huge $8,000,000” bunkerlike headquarters building was front-page news that drew “some of the nation’s top civilian and military nuclear experts”, the San Francisco Examiner reported at the time. But today, the lab has been largely forgotten.

In the early 2000s, journalist Lisa Davis revealed the enormous quantities of radioactive material the navy and scientists left at the shipyard and recklessly dumped at sea. This report expands on her brief mention of the lab’s medical and occupational experiments exposing people.

While lab scientists did sometimes publish in scientific journals and lab imprints, the navy destroyed voluminous piles of original documents after the facility closed.

Medical experiments on human subjects

Remaining files such as interagency memorandums, experiment proposals and technical papers indicate that human exposure was accepted up and down the chain of command, from Washington DC to the San Francisco docks, where as early as 1947 the navy knew that airborne plutonium was wafting off contaminated vessels.

The ships had been battered by atomic weapons tests at Bikini Atoll in the Pacific Ocean and then towed to San Francisco, where hundreds of civilian shipyard workers were exposed in a vain attempt to clean them.

The agenda then expanded to medical experiments on human subjects. Lab officials told the Pentagon in 1959 that they employed “minimal quantities of radioactive tracer material” in clinical studies, implying their techniques were safe, even though no one knew if this was true.

In the mid-1950s, the lab developed what it called synthetic fallout: dirt or mud laced with the highly radioactive but short-lived isotope lanthanum-140, meant to mimic the poisonous material that could drift over US communities after a nuclear explosion. The lab exposed hundreds of troops and civilian personnel to this hazard in field exercises at military bases on the east side of San Francisco Bay, in rural Alameda and Contra Costa counties.

Men in minimal protective gear clean a roof at Camp Stoneman in Contra Costa county in 1956. Photograph: Naval Radiological Defense Laboratory

The synthetic fallout’s radioactive ingredient could cause cell damage to internal organs if inhaled. Jones, the former army corporal, said troops in his unit sometimes worked without adequate protective equipment.

“Nobody had to go up on to the roof, and nobody had to do all this stuff by hand,” he said. “There were better ways to have done it. These scientists, they want the result and they don’t care about the people who are doing it for them.”

Some study participants had radioactive dirt rubbed on their forearms to test the effectiveness of cleaning methods. Others were ordered to crawl on their bellies through fields covered in it, to simulate the doses soldiers would absorb while fighting in a fallout zone. In 1962, lab officials acknowledged that wind and rain carried the pollution away, potentially exposing unsuspecting members of the public.

After a team from the lab detonated bombs laced with isotopic tracer elements underwater in the summer of 1961 around San Clemente Island, near San Diego, state game wardens working with researchers caught a radioactive fish, indicating unintended and potentially widespread ecological consequences. They brushed aside the discovery by noting that fish are typically gutted and presumably made safe before being eaten.

Across a wide array of activities, lab documents describe participants as volunteers. But Jones disputed this. “In the military, they tell you what to do, and you do it,” he said, adding that if he declined or resisted, he risked discharge or imprisonment in the stockade.

“We had to work in areas with a great deal of radioactive fallout and no one ever gave us an opportunity to opt out,” said Ron Rossi, who served with Jones in the army’s 50th chemical platoon at the Nevada test site. “It never occurred to us to even ask – just did what we were told to do.” Rossi spoke with the San Francisco Public Press in 2021 and 2022; he died last year, at age 89.

Studying responses to nuclear disasters was part of the mission of the Naval Radiological Defense Laboratory. In 1955, navy hospital corpsman HN Stolan demonstrated protective equipment and Geiger counters. Photograph: San Francisco Examiner photograph archive at the Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley

Later Pentagon admissions support the veterans’ accounts. “There is little doubt that members of intact military units, which were sent to test sites to perform missions commensurate with their organizational purpose, were not given the opportunity to volunteer,” wrote navy V Adm Robert Monroe, a former director of the Defense Nuclear Agency, one of the successors of the Manhattan Project, the top-secret second world war atomic bomb project, in 1979.

Hundreds of thousands of so-called atomic veterans were ordered to participate in Pacific island or stateside above-ground bomb tests, or served in Japan near Hiroshima or Nagasaki. The US government has, inconsistently, compensated many of them, as well as nuclear weapons workers. But many occupational or medical experiment participants have gone unrecognized despite clear signals they were in harm’s way.

In correspondence with superiors at the Atomic Energy Commission and the Pentagon, as well as in a journal article, scientists described the amount of absorbed radiation as relatively low. But since their detection equipment was crude and unreliable, these could easily be underestimations. At other times, scientists acknowledged grave risks, while permitting participants to receive exposures past their own suggested limits.

At least 33 times, the lab documented radiation doses “in excess of” evolving weekly, monthly or annual federal “maximum permissible exposure” limits, according to annual “radiological safety progress reports” from 1956, 1958, 1959 and 1960, obtained from the US Nuclear Regulatory Commission through a Freedom of Information Act request and from the Department of Energy’s Las Vegas archive.

No evidence could be found that federal civilian nuclear regulators or the lab’s military supervisors imposed any discipline for safety lapses that violated federal regulations.

Hazards persist

The navy’s San Francisco lab was one of many research centers and hospitals across the country that exposed people to radiation and other hazards for scientific purposes. That makes it a demonstration of “the ways that people have been seen as disposable, to science or to the military”, said Lindsey Dillon, a University of California, Santa Cruz, assistant professor of sociology who is among a handful of academics familiar with the lab’s history.

“I do think it should shock and anger people,” she added. “They knew that radiation was not healthy.”

The navy has spent more than $1.3bn to remove toxic and radioactive material from the site. Cleanup is poised to stretch through the 2020s, thanks in part to a contractor fraud scandal: two supervisors at an environmental engineering firm hired by the navy to clean up the shipyard received prison sentences after pleading guilty in federal court to faking soil samples. Retesting and several lawsuits are ongoing.

Illustration: Reid Brown/San Francisco Public Press

Military officials say these problems are surmountable and their remediation efforts will pay off.

“The navy’s work at the former Hunters Point naval shipyard has been and is focused on identifying contamination and ensuring public health is protected during cleanup and into the future,” a spokesperson for the Naval Facilities Engineering Systems Command, the service’s office overseeing the shipyard cleanup, said in an email.

The navy had been alerted to the radioactive pollution problem as early as 1984. Yet for decades, public health advocates and community activists said the navy misled neighbors about health risks, an assertion supported by a 2020 city-commissioned scientific panel from the University of California, San Francisco, and UC Berkeley.

Beginning in 2019, an ongoing biomonitoring survey led by Dr Ahimsa Porter Sumchai, a physician and neighborhood native whose father worked at the shipyard, has detected traces of radioactive elements and heavy metals in the urine of people who live and work nearby. Some of them are workers at a UCSF lab-animal complex on former navy property that once housed rats, mice and other creatures used in radiation experiments. They have filed workers’ compensation claims alleging that exposure to radioactive and toxic pollution from the shipyard made them sick.

Several elected officials who have enthusiastically backed the housing development, including former speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, who represents San Francisco in Congress, and outgoing mayor London Breed, expressed concern about environmental exposure without specifically addressing the lab’s history of human experimentation.

In an email, Pelosi spokesperson Ian Krager called the shipyard “a neglected and contaminated neighbor to the Bayview-Hunters Point Community” and noted that the federal government had invested heavily in the cleanup.

The military built its leading radiation lab in Hunters Point after ships from Pacific atom bomb tests returned ‘hot’. Photograph: National Archives and Records Administration

He said Pelosi’s priorities were “fighting to ensure the health and safety of Bayview-Hunters Point residents; requiring a transparent cleanup process that involves the community; holding the fraudulent contractor accountable; and insisting the navy fulfill its responsibility to fully clean up the shipyard”.

Shamann Walton, who represents the Bayview and adjacent neighborhoods on the city’s board of supervisors, has called for the city to halt the development until all the pollution is gone. “We do have a say in determining whether or not any land is transferred to the city and county of San Francisco,” he said at a city hall hearing in September 2022. “Without a 100% cleanup, that land transfer does not take place.”

The mayor’s office echoed these sentiments, but has not advocated pausing development. “The health and safety of San Francisco residents remain our highest priority,” a Breed spokesperson told the Public Press. “To this end, we remain committed to ensuring the navy’s remediation of the Hunters Point shipyard is thorough and transparent to the community.”

It may be impossible to know exactly what harm the radiation exposure caused. Many survivors believe it to be a slow killer. Arthur Ehrmantraut, who served with Jones in the 1950s, said many men in the 50th chemical platoon died young. Others developed illnesses long after leaving the service. “I know that many had severe health issues, that, as with myself, manifested after 50 years,” he said.

Jones, now 89, said he did not regret his army service. But he suspected reckless radiation exposure caused the illnesses and premature deaths of others in his platoon, and his own impaired blood flow and partial blindness.

Experts agree that during the cold war, safety was secondary to precious knowledge that might give the United States an advantage in a nuclear third world war.

“The US government was very, very interested in information about how radiation affects the human body, internally and externally,” said Bo Jacobs, a history professor at the Hiroshima Peace Institute in Japan and co-founder of the Global Hibakusha Project, which studies people around the world affected by radiation from nuclear weapons. As for how that information was obtained, he added, they didn’t much care: “They want data.”

Additional reporting by Rebecca Bowe. Listen to episode 1 and episode 2 of her Exposed documentary podcast.

Funding for Exposed comes from the California Endowment, the Fund for Environmental Journalism, the Local Independent Online News Publishers Association and members of the San Francisco Public Press. Learn more at sfpublicpress.org/donate and sign up for email alerts from the San Francisco Public Press when new stories in this series are published in December

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Lynx on the Loose in Scotland Highlight Debate Over Reintroducing Species Into the Wild

Scottish environmental activists want to reintroduce the lynx into the forests of the Highlands

LONDON (AP) — Scottish environmental activists want to reintroduce the lynx into the forests of the Highlands. But not this way.At least two lynx, a medium-sized wildcat extinct in Scotland for hundreds of years, were spotted in the Highlands on Wednesday, raising concerns that a private breeder had illegally released the predators into the wild.Two cats were captured on Thursday, but authorities are continuing their search after two others were seen early Friday near Killiehuntly in the Cairngorms National Park. Wildlife authorities are setting traps in the area so they can humanely capture the lynx and take them to the Edinburgh Zoo, where the captured cats are already in quarantine, said David Field, chief executive of the Royal Zoological Society of Scotland.The hunt highlights a campaign by some activists to reintroduce lynx to help control the deer population and symbolize Scotland’s commitment to wildlife diversity. While no one knows who released the cats, wildlife experts speculate that it was either someone who took matters into their own hands because they were frustrated by the slow process of securing government approval for the project, or an opponent who wants to create problems that will block the reintroduction effort.“Scotland has a history of illicit guerrilla releases,” said Darragh Hare, a research fellow at the University of Oxford’s Wildlife Conservation Research Unit, citing releases of beavers and pine martins. But doing it right, in a way that everyone can have their say, is important.“If there’s going to be any lynx introduction into Scotland or elsewhere, the process of doing it the right way, even if it takes longer, is the most important thing,” he added.Lynx disappeared from Scotland between 500 and 1,300 years ago possibly because of hunting and loss of their woodland habitat.Efforts to reintroduce the cats to the wild have been underway since at least 2021 when a group calling itself Lynx to Scotland commissioned a study of public attitudes toward the proposal. The group is still working to secure government approval for a trial reintroduction in a defined area with a limited number of lynx.Lynx are “shy and elusive woodland hunters” that pose no threat to humans, the group says. They have been successfully reintroduced in other European countries, including Germany, France and Switzerland.Supporters of the reintroduction on Thursday issued a statement deploring the premature, illegal release of the cats.“The Lynx to Scotland Project is working to secure the return of lynx to the Scottish Highlands, but irresponsible and illegal releases such as this are entirely counterproductive,” said Peter Cairns, executive director of SCOTLAND: The Big Picture, a group of rewilding advocates that is part of the project.The issues surrounding the potential reintroduction of lynx were on display during a Scottish Parliament debate on the issue that took place in 2023.While advocates highlighted the benefits of reducing a deer population that is damaging Scotland’s forests, opponents focused on the potential threat to sheep and ground-nesting birds.“Lynx have been away from this country for 500 years, and now is just not the time to bring them back,” said Edward Mountain, a lawmaker from the opposition Conservative Party who represents the Highlands.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See - Sept. 2024

Will Biden Pardon Steven Donziger, Who Faced Retaliation for Suing Chevron over Oil Spill in Amazon?

Massachusetts Congressmember Jim McGovern calls on President Biden to pardon environmental activist Steven Donziger, who has been targeted for years by oil and gas giant Chevron. Donziger sued Chevron on behalf of farmers and Indigenous peoples who suffered the adverse health effects of oil drilling in the Ecuadorian Amazon. “I visited Ecuador. I saw what Chevron did. It is disgusting” and “grotesque,” says McGovern. “Donziger stood up for these people who had no voice.” In return, Chevron has spent millions prosecuting him instead of holding itself to account, he adds, while a pardon from the president would show that the system can still “stand up to corporate greed and excesses.”

Massachusetts Congressmember Jim McGovern calls on President Biden to pardon environmental activist Steven Donziger, who has been targeted for years by oil and gas giant Chevron. Donziger sued Chevron on behalf of farmers and Indigenous peoples who suffered the adverse health effects of oil drilling in the Ecuadorian Amazon. “I visited Ecuador. I saw what Chevron did. It is disgusting” and “grotesque,” says McGovern. “Donziger stood up for these people who had no voice.” In return, Chevron has spent millions prosecuting him instead of holding itself to account, he adds, while a pardon from the president would show that the system can still “stand up to corporate greed and excesses.”

Exxon sues California AG, environmental groups for disparaging its recycling initiatives

ExxonMobil on Monday sued California Attorney General Rob Bonta (D) and a group of environmental activist groups, alleging they colluded on a campaign of defamation against the oil giant’s plastic recycling initiative. The lawsuit, filed in the Eastern District of Texas, could signal a new legal strategy for the fossil fuel industry against environmentalists and...

ExxonMobil on Monday sued California Attorney General Rob Bonta (D) and a group of environmental activist groups, alleging they colluded on a campaign of defamation against the oil giant’s plastic recycling initiative. The lawsuit, filed in the Eastern District of Texas, could signal a new legal strategy for the fossil fuel industry against environmentalists and their allies in government. It argues Bonta defamed Exxon when he sued the company last September by alleging it engaged in a decades-long “campaign of deception” around the recyclability of single-use plastics. Bonta’s lawsuit accused Exxon of falsely promoting the idea that all plastics were recyclable. A report issued by the Center for Climate Integrity last February indicates only a small fraction of plastics can be meaningfully recycled in the sense of being turned into entirely new products. ExxonMobil claimed Bonta’s language in the lawsuit, as well as subsequent comments in interviews, hurt its business. “While posing under the banner of environmentalism, [the defendants] do damage to genuine recycling programs and to meaningful innovation,” the lawsuit states. The complaint also names four national and California-based environmental groups, the Sierra Club, San Francisco Baykeeper, Heal the Bay and the Surfrider Foundation, who sued the company at the same time as Bonta’s office. It accuses Bonta’s office of recruiting the organizations to file the suit. The lawsuit is another salvo in the company’s aggressive recent approach to critics after it sued activist investor group Arjuna Capital in 2024 over its plans to submit a proposal on Exxon greenhouse gas emissions. A Texas judge dismissed the lawsuit in June after Arjuna agreed not to submit the proposal. “This is another attempt from ExxonMobil to deflect attention from its own unlawful deception,” a spokesperson for Bonta’s office said in a statement to The Hill. “The Attorney General is proud to advance his lawsuit against ExxonMobil and looks forward to vigorously litigating this case in court.” The Hill has reached out to the other defendants for comment.

Texas shrimper's legal victory spurs $50 million revival of fishing community

A historic $50 million Clean Water Act settlement led by Diane Wilson is revitalizing the Texas Gulf Coast, funding a fishing cooperative, oyster farm and environmental restoration efforts.Dylan Baddour reports for Inside Climate News.In short:Diane Wilson’s 2019 settlement against Formosa Plastics has funded $50 million in projects, including a $20 million fishing cooperative and environmental programs.The Matagorda Bay Fishing Cooperative is forming sustainable oyster farms and plans to purchase local seafood operations to empower fishermen.The settlement also mandated Formosa to halt plastic pellet discharges, resulting in penalties contributing over $24 million to Wilson's trust fund.Key quote:“They cannot believe I would do this for the bay and the fishermen. It’s my home and I completely refuse to give it to that company to ruin.”— Diane Wilson, environmental advocate and shrimperWhy this matters:The settlement has created economic opportunities and strengthened environmental safeguards, potentially setting a precedent for communities impacted by industrial pollution. Restoring livelihoods while reducing plastic pollution showcases how citizen-led activism can challenge corporate power.

A historic $50 million Clean Water Act settlement led by Diane Wilson is revitalizing the Texas Gulf Coast, funding a fishing cooperative, oyster farm and environmental restoration efforts.Dylan Baddour reports for Inside Climate News.In short:Diane Wilson’s 2019 settlement against Formosa Plastics has funded $50 million in projects, including a $20 million fishing cooperative and environmental programs.The Matagorda Bay Fishing Cooperative is forming sustainable oyster farms and plans to purchase local seafood operations to empower fishermen.The settlement also mandated Formosa to halt plastic pellet discharges, resulting in penalties contributing over $24 million to Wilson's trust fund.Key quote:“They cannot believe I would do this for the bay and the fishermen. It’s my home and I completely refuse to give it to that company to ruin.”— Diane Wilson, environmental advocate and shrimperWhy this matters:The settlement has created economic opportunities and strengthened environmental safeguards, potentially setting a precedent for communities impacted by industrial pollution. Restoring livelihoods while reducing plastic pollution showcases how citizen-led activism can challenge corporate power.

Rare, teeny tiny snail could be at risk from huge lithium mine under construction just south of Oregon

Environmentalists and Native American activists are demanding that the U.S. Interior Department address what they say is new evidence that bolsters their concerns about Lithium Americas’ planned open pit mine at Thacker Pass.

RENO — Opponents of the nation’s largest lithium mine under construction want U.S. officials to investigate whether the Nevada project already has caused a drop in groundwater levels that could lead to extinction of a tiny snail being considered for endangered species protection.Environmentalists and Native American activists are demanding that the U.S. Interior Department address what they say is new evidence that bolsters their concerns about Lithium Americas’ planned open pit mine at Thacker Pass. The footprint of mine operations will span about 9 square miles.The fate of the snail takes center stage after a federal judge and an appeals court dismissed a previous attempt by Native American tribes to get federal agencies to recognize the sacred nature of the area. The tribes argued that the mine would infringe on lands where U.S. troops massacred dozens of their ancestors in 1865.Now, Western Watersheds Project and the group known as People of Red Mountain argue in a notice of intent to sue that the government and Canada-based Lithium Americas are failing to live up to promises to adequately monitor groundwater impacts.They say it’s alarming that an analysis of groundwater data from a nearby well that was conducted by Payton Gardner, an assistant professor of hydrogeology at the University of Montana, shows a drop in the water table of nearly 5 feet since 2018. Nevada regulators say they have no information so far that would confirm declining levels but have vowed to monitor the situation during the mine’s lifespan.No water, no snailNot much bigger than a grain of rice, the Kings River pyrg has managed to survive in 13 isolated springs within the basin surrounding the mine site. It’s the only place in the world where the snail lives.In some cases, the tiny creatures require only a few centimeters of water. But the margin for survival becomes more narrow if the groundwater system that feeds the springs begins to drop, said Paul Ruprecht, Nevada Director for Western Watersheds Project.“Even slight disruptions to its habitat could cause springs to run dry, driving it to extinction,” he said.Western Watersheds Project and the other opponents say the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is violating the Endangered Species Act by failing to rule in a timely fashion on a 2022 petition to list the snail as threatened or endangered. The allegations outlined in the opponents’ notice follow requests for federal biologists to investigate whether groundwater drawdowns are being caused by exploratory drilling and other activities and whether there have been impacts to the springs.Without protection, Ruprecht fears the snail “will become another casualty of the lithium boom.”The Fish and Wildlife Service is conducting a review of the snail’s status, but the agency declined to comment on the requests for an investigation into the groundwater concerns.Poised to lead in lithium productionEfforts to mine gold and other minerals in Nevada and other parts of the West over the decades have spurred plenty of legal skirmishes over potential threats to wildlife and water supplies. Lithium is no exception, as demand for the metal critical to making batteries for electric vehicles is expected to continue to climb exponentially over the next decade.President Joe Biden made increased production of electric vehicles central to his energy agenda, and the U.S. Energy Department last year agreed to loan Lithium Americas more than $2 billion to help finance construction at Thacker Pass. On Dec. 23, Lithium Americas announced it had concluded a joint venture with General Motors Holdings LLC to develop and operate the mine.The mine about 30 miles south of the Oregon-Nevada border is the biggest in the works and closest to fruition in the U.S., followed by Ioneer’s Rhyolite Ridge project near the California line halfway between Reno and Las Vegas.And the Bureau of Land Management announced in late December that it was seeking comments on another proposed project in northeastern Nevada. Surge Battery Metals USA wants to explore for lithium in Elko County.Monitoring groundwaterRuprecht said reports filed by Lithium Americas’ environmental consultant with state regulators show the company no longer has permission to access private lands where several monitoring wells are located. That makes it harder to tell if flows have been impacted by past drilling, he said.Nevada regulators say they approved changes in 2024 to the monitoring plan to account for the loss of access to wells on private land.Prior data showed groundwater levels had remained stable from the 1960s to 2018. Construction started at the site in 2023.The Bureau of Land Management’s approval of the mine acknowledged some reduction in groundwater levels were possible but not for decades, and most likely would occur only if state regulators granted the company permission to dig below the water table.Lithium Americas spokesman Tim Crowley said it appears the mine’s opponents are “working to re-spin issues that have previously been addressed and resolved in court.” He pointed to 10 years of data collection by the company indicating the snail would not be affected by the project.-- The Associated Press

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