Work continues on Part II of "The Truth About Oppenheimer."
After I released Part I, I was hoping to get this Part II out sometime this Fall. I would say the current draft of the script is 1/3 complete--about 4 single-spaced pages of pure text.
Some of the struggle in making progress has been due to having a new baby in the house. My oldest son also started school for the first time this Fall. Furthermore, I moved my law practice into my first office space in September. Additionally, I took in three rather intensive divorce cases in September.
The good news is, the writing for Part II is going a lot faster than Part II—especially since I am familiar with the subject matter, and most of the facts come from a single source.
If I can make some more progress on the script, I can see getting it to my producer sometime in November.
Thank you all for your patience...at this point I've been working on this project for almost a year and a half now, so as much as I've enjoyed it, I am eager to write about something else. HAHA.
But I think you all will really enjoy Parts II and III. There's some really sick stuff here.
Thanks to all Supporting Members—you guys can read the draft script right now, below, with a small preview visible to Free Members.
If you'd like to join the Supporting Members, be sure to sign up through this link for $5/month or $55/year. All Supporting Members will receive a credit at the end of Part II.
The Truth About Oppenheimer Part II
Early in the morning of March 24, 1945, an African-American cement mixer named Ebb Cade hopped into a jobsite carpool with his two brothers and a family friend named Jesse Smith, who was driving.
It was a morning commute that Ebb and his brothers made at least five times a week. Little did Ebb know that this specific commute would change his life forever. (Eileen Welsome, “The Plutonium Files” Chapter 8 “Ebb Cade”)
As fate would have it, Ebb and his three brothers were all employed by the J.A. Jones Construction Company on a secret government contract in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. They were tasked with mixing and pouring the cement for the Oak Ridge Gaseous Diffusion Plant—an enormous uranium enrichment facility.
It was a cool Saturday morning—the last day of an exhausting six-day workweek. As the car rumbled around, picking up two additional coworkers, Ebb sat in the backseat, sandwiched between his two brothers, likely daydreaming about his coming day off.
After picking up his final passengers, Jesse Smith drove on to the military base. The carpool stopped by the guard shack. The occupants flashed their badges to the guards. Smith then continued down the road to the plant, just like any other day—completely unaware of what was about to occur.
At approximately 6:40 AM, about a mile or two before the carpool reached the job site, its lane of travel was blocked by a stalled government truck. Smith noticed that the government truck was jacked up, and a tire was missing. He swung into the oncoming lane to pass. By the time he saw the dump truck rushing towards him, it was already too late.
The vehicles smashed together in a violent head to head collision. Everyone in the carpool was taken to the Oak Ridge Army Hospital.
For Ebb Cade, the crash was only the beginning of an ordeal that would affect him for the rest of his life, and leave him to claim that the government “used him as a human guinea pig.”