I cannot imagine my parent's panic at hearing the news about the power plant, which was visible from their house, was having a meltdown. They are brave ones, those two.
My childhood was peppered with stories of TMI. It helped to explain my red hair. It also allowed my father to attempt to testify at the state legislature about how the area had put individuals and their families in danger. I think that the guy who brought the goat as part of his testimony took up most of the congress people's time. Unfortunately, my father had only brought me as a prop.
My father often begrudged the fact that I was born in North Philly and was the only Caucasian baby in the hospital's nursery because that took away any chance that I was switched at birth. He was always looking for another funny excuse to pawn me off on some other family.
Happy Birthday, Three Mile Island! Thanks for making life exciting.
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