Insight Web Extra
Tom Kauffman, NEI senior media relations manager, was an employee at Three Mile Island at the time of the accident there in 1979. Last week, he wrote about a media day he had attended to mark the anniversary. Here, he describes the scene from his perspective as the accident unfolded. 
April 2009—Thirty years ago, I was nearing the end of my second year of training as a plant systems operator at TMI. A systems operator monitors and operates systems and components throughout the plant. I worked for the reactor control room, but not in it. It would be several more years until I earned a reactor operator license.
For someone with no nuclear energy background, I came to TMI at a great time. In 1977, the plant was in the final stage of construction, there were no radiological concerns, and I got to go everywhere. Studying power plant systems in great detail and participating in initial plant systems testing and the startup of a nuclear plant were experiences I never expected. It was quite a jump for an educator with a penchant for science.
The startup of the plant was a busy and fascinating time. The plant was coming to life as power operations and safety systems were tested and qualified. It was an incredibly complex orchestration performed by engineers, operators, maintenance, radiological and management professionals. Many were from the Navy nuclear program and had previous commercial nuclear plant startup experience. In hind sight, some things could have done better. A seemingly minor design flaw that wasn’t properly fixed that started the chain of events on the morning of March 28, 1979.
There was a recurring problem with a water cleaning system. After the steam was used to drive the turbines to produce electricity, it was condensed back into water and sent through filters to remove impurities. The filters were filled with small beads that cleaned the water. The water had a tendency to pack the beads together.
When the beads needed to be cleaned they would be transferred to another tank. But it was hard to get the beads to move. The only way we had to mix them up was by injecting water or air into the tank to stir up the beads. But if you had the water and air on at the same time, the water would flow back through the air lines and cause the whole plant to shut down. This happened several times during startup and test.
Rather than actually fixing the problem, the procedure was changed to direct operators not to have the valves open at the same time. But back then, we didn’t have “verbatim compliance” of procedures; and early on March 28, it happened again, the plant shut down, and the snowball started rolling.
The morning of the accident, I was directed to assist with Radiological Controls. On my way, I passed another operator who told me what had happened at the filters. It wasn’t disbelief I felt, but frustration that the problem wasn’t fixed right in the first place.
I arrived at the Radiological Controls (Rad Con) center at 7:30 a.m. and asked what I could do to assist. There were Rad Con technicians entering the buildings to take radiation readings and other technicians were performing their tasks. The radiation levels were increasing in those areas, so it was decided to set a single control point. We established “Checkpoint Alpha” at the door between the Rad Con area and the Auxiliary Building. I helped log entries and exits, verify radiation readings and double check protective clothing for workers.
After about an hour, the dose level at Checkpoint Alpha increased to approximately 100 millirem per hour. This isn’t considered high-level radiation, but the call was made to drop back about 50 feet to the midpoint of the Rad Con area and set up Checkpoint Bravo. After another hour, we moved the checkpoint back farther. Around 10:30 a.m., as radiation levels gradually increased, we gathered our gear and headed up to the Control Room.
The control room was a busy place. There were four or five times as many people than usual and numerous alarms were flashing on the control panels. Despite this, the control room operators maintained their focus and determination. There was never any panic or chaos. Don’t get me wrong, people were hustling, they knew they were facing a very difficult situation and they were concerned about the condition of the plant, but they kept their cool, kept the chain of command, their actions were deliberate, and everyone stayed focused and on task.
Before noon, all nonessential personnel were directed to leave the plant and stage at the visitor and training centers across from the island. We left the control room, passed through radiation monitors (no alarms), checked out through security, got in our cars and drove off the island. I took a moment to talk to a Rad Con technician just outside the security building who said he was seeing no change on his radiation monitors.
I waited at the TMI Visitor’s Center along with about 15 other operators, maintenance personnel and instrument technicians. Everyone took time to call their families and we stayed in contact with the plant through hand-held two-way radios and the Visitor’s Center phone. We knew the core had overheated and the fuel had been damaged, perhaps severely, but at that point, we had no clear idea just how bad the damage was. One thing was clear though; there was no quick fix. Nuclear fuel damage is a big deal. It would be a long time before the plant could be repaired.
In a matter of hours, we had gone from a new plant and careers full of promise to almost complete uncertainty about both. We stayed at the visitor’s center and kept an eye on the radiation monitor at the front desk. Throughout the afternoon, the monitor showed no change. But things were changing outside. We saw police cars, emergency vehicles, news vans and a growing number of reporters.
That afternoon, the first press conference was held on the lawn in front of the Visitor’s Center. I had a bird’s eye view from the observation deck of the center. We watched a handful of plant managers and representatives facing a phalanx of reporters with lights, cameras, microphones and flash bulbs. As press conferences go, it could have gone better.
To ease public anxiety, the plant managers tried to play down the severity of the accident, but the reporters pressed them. They had already talked with some plant workers and the NRC, and they knew the fuel had been damaged. They wanted to know how bad the damage was. The term “meltdown” was being used. I recall a reporter asking how long it would be until TMI-2 would be back on line. The response implied it could be back on line in a matter of months. The people on the viewing deck with me were taken aback. I saw one or two grimace. They knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Tensions continued to rise and the press conference eventually ended. You could tell the reporters weren’t satisfied as they were hustling to call their stations and find other contacts. Many of us got calls for weeks at all hours of the day from news organizations and reporters offering money for clandestine interviews. It became such a nuisance that most of us changed our phone numbers.
We stayed at the Visitor’s Center until mid-evening on March 28. The crowd of reporters had grown. Some were setting up makeshift camps made of tarps and tents around the Visitor’s Center, and it was clear they weren’t going away anytime soon. We got word from the control room that the reactor was shut down, pressure was falling, temperature was falling, and there were high radiation levels in the containment building that houses the reactor, but the building was doing its job. There was fuel damage, the radiation was held within the containment building, and everything was trending in the right direction. The crisis was over. But there was no doubt that we had a huge challenge on our hands. We were told we should report to work the next day, and we all did.
Today, TMI-2 is decontaminated, dry, safe, secure and monitored. Ninety-nine percent of the radioactive materials have been removed and are in secure storage facilities in Idaho. The rest will be removed when the plant is fully decommissioned. Many of the people who were working at TMI when the accident happened stayed to help complete the safe cleanup of TMI-2. They, along with hundreds of others, took ownership of the mistakes that were made and set things right.
The accident brought many profound and permanent changes to the nuclear energy industry. First and foremost, safety is the industry’s No. 1 focus and priority. And the lessons that were learned are forever rooted in our training, procedures, regulations and the culture of our workforce, For example, technical problems that are encountered are immediately analyzed and resolved through effective engineering. And plant operators are required to follow their procedures.
Over the past three decades, the nuclear industry has become a model of safety and reliability. TMI-1, the operating plant adjacent to TMI-2, has a long record of safe, reliable electricity production, including four world records for longest continuous operation. In 2008, TMI-1 was rated the 18th most efficient nuclear power plant in the world. This is quite an accomplishment when you consider there are 439 nuclear plants worldwide. This is only one of many similar success stories within the U.S. nuclear energy industry that is producing electricity safely, efficiently and reliably for 80 million homes.
—Read more articles in Nuclear Energy Insight and Insight Web Extra.