The Nevada Test Site

We were being shown around the Nevada Test Site in a Department of Energy van. DOE had agreed to give a tour to the planners of the Lenten Desert Experience. Sponsored by the Franciscans, these 40 days of prayer and reflection brought together a diverse collection of people from all over the country to establish a presence for peace in the middle of the desert, at the place where the United States government tests its nuclear weapons. I was able to join this Lenten vigil for a few days during Holy Week.

The Nevada Test Site, at which nuclear tests have been conducted since 1951, is 1,350 square miles of absolutely barren desert, an area larger than the state of Rhode Island. Five thousand people work on the site, many of them from the west side of Las Vegas, a poor and tough ghetto where I stayed at night. It is the underside of the glitter of the famous Las Vegas strip.

The Franciscans who work in this black community say the people are afraid of radiation contamination from working on the site but need the work. Every morning, as early as 5:00 a.m., they board buses that make the long trip into the desert, at least 65 miles north of Las Vegas.

The Nevada Test Site is even more stark from the inside than the desert itself. One crater from a 1962 100-kiloton blast is 320 feet deep and 1,280 feet, wide. In an area of the test site called Yucca Flats, more than 100 craters are visible and appear as ugly scars across the desert floor.

"Survival Town" was a model town built to test the effects of nuclear explosions. In one test houses up to three miles away from the epicenter of a 29-kiloton bomb were utterly destroyed. Two charred houses remain standing now. The DOE public relations officer, as if to reassure us, said, "I've been inside those houses. They're a little scarred, but not bad."

Every day more holes are drilled in the desert for underground nuclear explosions. The average holes are 2,000 feet deep, cost $1.5 million to drill, and take from three weeks to three months to complete, depending on the type of surface. Four- to six-man crews drill 24 hours a day. "We drill for Livermore and Los Alamos," said the drill engineer. When asked about the nuclear explosions in the holes he replied, "We drill the holes; that's all this section deals with really."

We passed a sign that read "Think Fat Boy." Since "Fat Boy," the first bomb exploded here in 1951, there have been 621 announced nuclear tests at the Nevada site. The DOE won't say how many unannounced tests there have been, but some observers say the number is in the thousands.

One thought kept running through my mind. Here are conducted the rehearsals for the end of the world. In the craters and scarred earth of the Nevada desert, one can see the future of the world unless we turn from our present course.

As we were leaving the test site, we passed another sign that read, "Is Everything Secure?" The answer seemed obvious. "Once they had a chapel here," remarked the DOE security guard, "but now it's an office—it wasn't used."

Back outside the site, a few of us gathered around a simple cross stuck into the desert floor. We shared our feelings about what we had just seen. All were deeply troubled. We were quiet for a moment, then we stood up, joined hands, and walked back into the test site. As we walked across the line, we prayed and sang "Kum Ba Yah": Come by here, my Lord, come by here. We were quickly surrounded by security guards and arrested.

As we were being driven to the jail after our arrest, a funny thing happened. Louis Vitale, Franciscan provincial for the western states, was sitting in the front seat of the police car. I was in the back seat with Duncan MacMurdy, one of the staff of the Lenten Desert Experience. The deputy sheriff was driving and being very friendly.

Louis began to talk about what we had just done and how right it felt. At first the police officer entered into the conversation, but then he became nervous when he realized that he had not yet read us our legal rights. If we talked before we were told "You have the right to remain silent...," the process might be violated and the case thrown out of court.

The deputy sheriff quickly pulled a little card from the sun visor and began to dutifully read us our rights. The words were familiar.

Right in the middle of the formal reading, Louis' digital watch alarm went off. This was no ordinary watch. It was a Mickey Mouse watch, and it began to play the Mickey Mouse club theme song—"M-I-C K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E, Mickey Mouse ..." Louis, who was handcuffed, couldn't turn it off.

Duncan and I just burst out laughing. Louis tried to explain that the watch was given to him by a brother, a conservative Republican who collects Mickey Mouse watches. The officer, quite flustered, exclaimed, "I've got to read you these rights! I'll just have to talk louder!" I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.

Throughout the booking process, the jail, and the courtroom experience, we felt a deep sense of peace about our action. Before the end of Holy Week, 72 arrests had been made as people walked onto the test site to pray. The DOE has dropped the charges, most likely for fear of a court case that would put nuclear testing "on trial."

Jim Wallis is editor-in-chief of Sojourners magazine.