In addition to collecting artifacts and documents from the early days of the Canadian nuclear industry the Society for the Preservation of Canada’s Nuclear Heritage Inc. (SPCNHI) is collecting anecdotes about the industry. An unpublished book “Birth Pangs of CANDU” by Les Cook turns out to be a goldmine of many excellent stories.
Les Cook was a Canadian who was a researcher in Otto Hahn’s lab in Germany when fission was discovered. He was later recruited by Sir John Cockcroft for the Montreal Lab and then served as the Director of the Chemistry and Metallurgy Division of CRNL from 1945 to 1956. Tom Church was Les’s Administrative Officer and Mary Greiner (nee Church) has donated a copy of Les’s book to the Society. In the following extract from the book, Cook describes a visit by Sir John Anderson to Chalk River and the unofficial christening of NRX by C.D. Howe.
“One late September Sunday morning in 1945, the phone rang: Bert Goldschmidt was calling from the staff hotel. Cockcroft had received word from Ottawa that C.D. Howe and Sir John Anderson, head of the UK Atomic Committee, would be arriving in a couple of hours from Ottawa in a seaplane, for a tour of NRX. They had had dinner the night before, and had made the decision on the spur of the moment.
I joined Bert in the lovely fall sun down at the river edge near our small dock. There were dead heads bobbing up and down from shore as usual.
Soon we were joined by Cockcroft. The staff hotel had been the site of a big party the night before. Cockcroft had found the washrooms in disarray and no staff on duty – and had cleaned up and put out fresh towels himself.
“What if their seaplane hits a dead head” Bert asked. After a moment’s reflection, Cockcroft replied, in his usual laconic fashion, “We will have a new Chairman”.
Soon we heard the unaccustomed roar of engines breaking the Sunday morning stillness, and the flying boat came straight down in mid-river. I thought he might have circled once to look for logs – but no. He was lucky, and taxied in to the dock.
Out came the official party, in two cars, up to the staff hotel.
My wife, forewarned, was there with her camera and immediately photographed the most distinguished first man out in blue homburg and coat. She was mistaken. She got a good picture of the assistant to a Mr. Boulton, who was the Ottawa purchasing agent for the project. Sir John got out last, undistinguished.
Then to the plant.
Once more, “security” raised its head. As the official party reached the door of the NRX building, the local guard barred the way. Even the presence of the Director, Dr. Cockcroft, cut no ice. The guard had strict instructions to take orders only from the guard captain, an impressive and stately-whiskered Mr. Ramsay, whom no one had thought to inform about all this. The guard valued his job and stood his ground.
So C.D. Howe, Sir John, Cockcroft and the rest of the embarrassed party, caught in the grip of their own bureaucracy, had to while away half an hour while Capt. Ramsay was contacted and brought down from the town to confront his guard and allow the party in.
Meanwhile, C.D. Howe, remarking, “There are no women around,” had relieved himself against the wall of NRX – probably uniquely the only man who has ever done so.
The flying boat had taxied down to the plant, picked up the party there, and left safely, to our great relief.
Sir John resigned shortly after. Perhaps the dangers of nuclear technology were beginning to be real to him.”
It is not clear which wall of NRX C.D. Howe “christened” and, as a result, the Society is resigned to the fact that when NRX is dismantled we will have to settle for a token brick or two instead of one of the fully christened ones.
