There's No Stopping Me Now

Getting Into Los Alamos


By Alan Kleinfeld, 12-27-05

 
 

Not long ago I had to make a business trip to Los Alamos National Labs. It had nothing to do with writing, but I was to meet with several people and give a presentation on, of all things, conference planning.

Never having visited there before, I mapped out my route from Albuquerque, prepared myself with handouts, a few little giveaways and even some candy (presentations always go better when your audience is munching on a Hershey Kiss).

As I approached the area of the Labs, I expected to be greeted with Fort Knox-type security. You know, modern video cameras, some kind of futuristic fingerprint or retina scanner. Maybe even guards equipped with Star Trek-like weaponry.

I encountered nothing. Not a thing. There were no checkpoints to drive through or kiosks to stop at or even cameras to stare into. None of it. At least none that I saw. You can find more video cameras in your neighborhood McDonalds!

As I pulled up to my destination at the Administration Area, I was surprised how close I could park my car to the buildings, right out there in the open.

I strolled up to the building with the huge blue sign reading BADGE OFFICE. I assumed I was to stop there for visitor credentials. I walked right through the door into a reception area. I was not greeted by a guard or a metal detector or x-ray device. Only the pleasant smile of the receptionist.

The pleasant lady at the front desk said I wasn’t in her computer so she sent me to another building. Unescorted. So there I was, walking around Los Alamos National Labs, temporary home of the atomic bomb and J. Robert Oppenhiemer, as free as the wind and carrying a grocery bag filled with handouts, freebies and candy. But for all anyone knew, I could have been carrying the head of Alfredo Garcia. Of the several dozen people just walking around, every one of them displayed a badge on a lanyard around their necks.

I had no lanyard. No badge. Not a single sole approached me to ask where my badge was or what I was doing there. No one stopped me or questioned me about walking around badge-less.

At my destination, the second floor of an administration building and library, I continued to walk freely. I rode up in an elevator that was probably built during World War Two and apparently had no video cameras or security. Had I a briefcase with some James Bond-like device to detonate, now would have been the time to set the timer.

Once on the second floor, the reception area was abandoned. Only a sign saying that badges were required beyond this point. Oh well. But there was no one there to stop me from wandering about. So I did. Along the way I passed a few more signs, each telling me that I had to have a badge beyond this point.

I finally stopped in an office, told the person who I was and why I came. That person passed me off to a couple of others and to finally a lady in charge of visitors. Everyone I talked to was helpful. I followed her back to the reception area, where the sign tells me to get a badge. And she got me a badge. No matter that I’d been walking around for 15 minutes like I owned the place. She wanted to follow the rules and get me a badge. I certainly didn’t begrudge her that.

I felt much better having a badge. I didn’t want ninja-style security guards to appear in a puff of smoke and demand to know where my credentials were, possibly tossing me against a wall and scanning my body for weapons with some radioactive-emitting device. I made my presentation, turned in my badge and departed. Just as unencumbered as when I arrived.

Maybe my expectations derive from my time in Washington, DC. I was living there when the planes hit on September 11. We lived in an apartment just blocks away from the Pentagon and stood on our balcony in utter disbelief as we watched the landmark smolder and glow in the darkness of that night.

After that event, Washington, DC overnight became a city of highly armed security and police. Many monuments were closed and tours of the Capital and White House were terminated (albeit temporarily). Outside government buildings, men with guns in black SUVs popped up and video cameras appeared on street corners. You didn’t dare pick your nose or scratch your butt for fear of being caught on tape. At first it was awkward, to say the least. But as timed past, I began to appreciate the security presence. I felt safe. Or safer.

At Los Alamos, I would have expected the same sense of security. I may not have been in a top secret area, but since my image of LANL is one of spy work and weapons creation and who-knows-what, I was surprised by the lack of security presence. When I visit anything federal, I expect precautions, at least a few video cameras and a couple of guys with guns.

When I travel to places far away from DC and New York City, places not thought of as terrorist targets, I tend to maintain my sense of surroundings. If I see a backpack in a grocery store with no one around it, I immediately assume danger. I’ll inform a cashier and be shocked when they shrug and just dismiss it.

It was announced recently that the Department of Energy (the owner of the Labs) awarded a new management contract to oversee Los Alamos to a team led by current manager, University of California. I don’t know if the security I envisioned will materialize at Los Alamos National Laboratory. I guess it’s one of those situations where I hope the experts in charge know what they’re doing.



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By larz petersen, 12-27-05
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