No-Go Zone on the Hudson

Last weekend I rode the Hudson Line north to Poughkepsie. Spring was suffering a delay thanks to a powerful storm warping across the nation. Heavy winds were expecting to batter the region overnight. I sat by the window and watched the a gray rain lace the river. At times the opposite bank was obscured by a heavy mist, but just north of Croton-on-Hudson the weather lightened to allow a view of Peekskill Bay.

Three concrete towers dominated the southern vista. The cooling towers of the Indian Point nuclear station supply a third of New York City's electrical needs. Subways, elevators, my computer and lights, and millions of energy drains depend on Units 2 and 3. # 1's pressurized water reactors was shut down by the AEC due to its failure of its emergency core cooling system to meet regulatory requirements.

Entergy, the owner of the plant, has long held that the two reactors pose little threat to the area, despite the site's proximity to the Ramapao faultline. Their claims have not assuaged renewed concerns about the plant's safety, especially since the Japanese government declared a 20-kilometer no-go zone or NGZ around the earthquake-damaged Fukushima nuclear reactor.

"No need to worry."

A 20 kilometer NGZ at Indian Point would encompass over 300 square miles according the the following formula; A = Pi times r squared.

West Point would escape the zone, but Peekskill and Croton-On-Hudson would be as deserted as the forest surrounding Chernobyl. At least 200 years before anyone could survive in the dead zone, unless the Japanese or extra-terrestial visitors could save us from ourselves.

Yesterday was Earth Day.

I toasted our planet at the diamond exchange with my co-workers and Manny, my boss. Beers for everyone on me. Richie Boy, his son, had taken off the day. He was driving his brand-new SUV to Montauk. It is powered by gasoline. I keep telling people that we won't have any cars 20 years from now. No one believes me. I don't really believe me too, but no one will be driving in Fukushima until the year 2212.

I won't be around then, unless the extra-terrestials also invent a youth rejuvenating machine.

29.

I wouldn't mind being that old again.

It's my half-life.