nuclear photography
"You're trespassing."
It wasn't the words which intimidated us as much as the AK-47 strapped to his chest. Inside my own chest, my heart was pounding and I was gripped with a fear than that only comes when dealing with people holding very large guns and the authority to use them.
"You aren't supposed to be taking pictures either. I need to see everyone's ID."
We had come to Shearon Harris nuclear plant as tourists. From the highway, the billow of smoke pouring out of the cooling tower was a guide leading us to the plant. The visitor center was closed so we drove straight for the tower. We saw several signs that said "no firearms, explosives, illegal drugs etc etc" "visitors subject to search" but nothing that said "no trespassing." I snapped a few photos when the tower was in full view. The final one Todd took of me, posing so that the smokestack appeared to come out of my head, my hands gesturing toward the nuclear hat.
Then we decided to drive closer. Maybe we could get a picture of the reactor, sitting just behind the cooling tower. A guard walked out to meet us and Todd said "Wave. Just wave." He waved us over to him and began what he called "procedures."
Suddenly we were captive. The guard called in the license plate number and Martijn's name. When he said we weren't supposed to be taking pictures, I got really nervous. I had very important photos on this roll that were irreplaceable. Todd assured me they had no right to take my film, so I shouldn't worry. I also had junk in my bag and feared for my life. What if they searched us?
"Turn the car off and hand me the keys."
"No!" Todd shouted. "Sir, I'm sorry but I'm a journalist and I know my rights. Martijn, turn off the car but do NOT hand him the keys."
Natalie and I exchanged worried looks. Perhaps we should just be cooperative? The exchange continued for a very tense minute. Another guard walked over and a white SUV kept circling the parking lot. Suddenly it dawned on me that this is America under the Patriot Act. Everyone is suspicious, and they have to call everything in, even some dumb tourists out joyriding.
"They're just doing their job," I said, "it's normal procedure."
We all started to calm down. Todd asked for directions to the hiking trails and the guard told us. Then he bid us farewell and we drove straight back to freedom.
After some nervous laughter and berating ourselves for being so stupid, we realized what probably saved us was the photo with me posing in front of the cooling tower. When the guards saw that through their binoculars, they realized we weren't terrorists. We were simply fabulous.
It wasn't the words which intimidated us as much as the AK-47 strapped to his chest. Inside my own chest, my heart was pounding and I was gripped with a fear than that only comes when dealing with people holding very large guns and the authority to use them.
"You aren't supposed to be taking pictures either. I need to see everyone's ID."
We had come to Shearon Harris nuclear plant as tourists. From the highway, the billow of smoke pouring out of the cooling tower was a guide leading us to the plant. The visitor center was closed so we drove straight for the tower. We saw several signs that said "no firearms, explosives, illegal drugs etc etc" "visitors subject to search" but nothing that said "no trespassing." I snapped a few photos when the tower was in full view. The final one Todd took of me, posing so that the smokestack appeared to come out of my head, my hands gesturing toward the nuclear hat.
Then we decided to drive closer. Maybe we could get a picture of the reactor, sitting just behind the cooling tower. A guard walked out to meet us and Todd said "Wave. Just wave." He waved us over to him and began what he called "procedures."
Suddenly we were captive. The guard called in the license plate number and Martijn's name. When he said we weren't supposed to be taking pictures, I got really nervous. I had very important photos on this roll that were irreplaceable. Todd assured me they had no right to take my film, so I shouldn't worry. I also had junk in my bag and feared for my life. What if they searched us?
"Turn the car off and hand me the keys."
"No!" Todd shouted. "Sir, I'm sorry but I'm a journalist and I know my rights. Martijn, turn off the car but do NOT hand him the keys."
Natalie and I exchanged worried looks. Perhaps we should just be cooperative? The exchange continued for a very tense minute. Another guard walked over and a white SUV kept circling the parking lot. Suddenly it dawned on me that this is America under the Patriot Act. Everyone is suspicious, and they have to call everything in, even some dumb tourists out joyriding.
"They're just doing their job," I said, "it's normal procedure."
We all started to calm down. Todd asked for directions to the hiking trails and the guard told us. Then he bid us farewell and we drove straight back to freedom.
After some nervous laughter and berating ourselves for being so stupid, we realized what probably saved us was the photo with me posing in front of the cooling tower. When the guards saw that through their binoculars, they realized we weren't terrorists. We were simply fabulous.