The Millstone Meltdown
"You can’t say we weren’t warned."
Chapter 1: The Gathering Storm
The dawn skies over Long Island Sound were an ominous shade of gray, a calm before the storm. In his home down the shore from the Millstone nuclear power plant in Waterford, Connecticut, veteran shift Supervisor Frank Miller watched the weather with growing concern. As a lead nuclear engineer at the plant, he knew all too well the vulnerabilities of the aging facility.
“This is going to be bad,” he muttered, his fingers tapping anxiously on a window pane.
At the command center in Hartford, Jared Collins, the Director of Emergency Management Services for Connecticut, was coordinating local, state and federal agencies. The storm barreling towards them was unlike anything they had seen before.
Hurricane Helena, a Category 4 behemoth verging on Cat 5, had churned its way up the Atlantic Coast, gathering strength. Its fury now pointed squarely at the vulnerable shorelines of New York, Long Island and Connecticut.
By noon, Helena’s wind and rain lashed sideways, whipping trees into a frenzy and turning the usually bustling streets into a whirling mess of dangerous debris. Street signs and trash cans were going airborne. At Millstone, Supervisor Miller, just pulling into his parking spot, squinted through the rain-streaked windscreen of his car, the knot tightening in his gut.
Once in the control room, he paced restlessly between the consoles. Years of battling with the plant’s management about inadequate flood defenses, demonstrated all too clearly during Ida in 2021, had hardened his cynicism. Watching live feeds of the rising storm surge from closed circuit cameras of the plant’s perimeter, he feared his worst warnings were coming true.
Alarms began to blare. Floodwater was no longer just seeping through cracks in the building’s seawall. Now the wall had given way, drenching vital electrical systems. The water entered an open bay and surged over a loading dock, reaching the emergency diesel generators that were supposed to have been protected. Without those, the plant was entirely dependent on offsite power to cool the reaction, should a reactor SCRAM occur.
Miller did not have to wait long for the second link in the plant’s “defense in depth” chain to break. Heavy bombardment of the floodwater against the buildings set off earthquake sensors that automatically shut down the reactors. There was nothing more anyone in the control room needed to do. Rods were inserted robotically. The reactor vessels went into their hot shutdown configuration. Emergency coolant pumps came on. Traces of radioactive hydrogen escaped into the containment but went no further. In the turbine room, the enormous generators wound down and came to a silent stop. Water was already seeping in at the footings of their concrete pads.
In the emergency operations center in Hartford, FEMA State Director Collins turned to Governor Ned Lamont and, grim-faced, told him, “Millstone is reporting water inside. We need a miracle to avoid a situation.”
Chapter 2: A Nation on Hold
As the storm lashed Connecticut, a tense silence hung over POTUS’s office aboard Air Force One. President Biden, nearing the end of a flight back from China, opened the secure video conference with his key advisors. Below him, his nation scrolled by like a tapestry of green in bright sunlight. It was nothing like the rotating dark cloud approaching Connecticut.
On-screen, the grim faces mirrored his own: Governor Kathleen Hochul of New York, her friendly demeanor replaced by weariness; Mayor Eric Adams of New York City, his worried look reflecting the growing anxiety in the nation’s most populous metropolis; and Administrator Deanne Criswell of FEMA, previously Commissioner of the New York City Emergency Management Office during Superstorm Sandy. President Biden opened the conversation.
“Mayor, Governors Lamont and Hochul, Deanne, give me the situation on the ground.”
Criswell spoke first, her voice firm. “Mr. President, Hurricane Helena has hit us harder than expected. The damage is extensive, but the real concern is the Millstone Power Plant.”
Governor Hochul cut in, her voice sharp. “Mr. President, reports are coming in of flooding at Millstone. A meltdown would be catastrophic. Millions of people are directly in the fallout zone.”
President Biden felt the depth of Hochul’s emotion but tried to restore order. “Director Criswell, what’s FEMA’s assessment?”
Criswell sighed. “Sir, we’re coordinating with the Governors and emergency response teams. The situation at Millstone is indeed concerning. We are informed the reactors have gone to shutdown mode, but we are concerned about the potential of loss of offsite power. We have crews standing by to assist but they may not be able to get in immediately, and certainly not in the middle of the storm. We’re preparing to initiate a full-scale evacuation of affected areas if necessary.”
The President pondered that for a moment. “Governor Lamont, what’s the mood in Connecticut? Are people panicking?”
“There’s concern, Mr. President,” Lamont replied, “but there’s also a sense of resolve. We are doing everything we can to urge people to remain where they are for their safety.”
Addressing everyone, President Biden spoke with firm resolve: “Keep me updated hourly. This is a national emergency. We’ll do everything in our power to contain the situation and protect citizens. You will have whatever resources you need.”
Chapter 3: The Deluge and the Stall
The Hurricane’s fury was relentless, pounding the southeastern Connecticut coastline with a ferocity that defied belief. Winds howled, rains lashed, and storm surges breached seawalls, carrying away boats, cars, homes, and people.
For a brief period that night, it seemed as though the worst had passed. The Hurricane’s eye drifted back out over Long Island and seaward, gathering strength from the warm coastal waters. But then, in a cruel twist of fate, the storm reversed direction, tacking back towards the Connecticut coastline with renewed fury.
At morning’s light, Helena strengthened to a Category 5 monster, its winds howling at over 160 miles per hour, with gusts now reaching tornado velocity. It stalled, remaining more or less in the same area between Long Island, Connecticut, and New York City for a staggering 8 hours, pummeling the region with unrelenting force as dawn turned to day and then the dim gray light and pounding rains fell again into a long moonless night.
At 10 pm, strong gusts — or perhaps one of the many tornadoes being spun from Helena’s center — knocked out a string of towers leading to Millstone’s transformer yard. One of the towers fell into the yard, destroying two rows of high-voltage transformers. There was a shower of sparks and then power flickered and died, plunging the entire facility — and the control room — into darkness.
Frank Miller fought off his horror, desperately trying to read gauges while holding a flashlight. Others watched his struggle and said nothing. They all knew now a meltdown was only a matter of time. Frank picked up the phone to the NRC war room. As he tried to speak his voice was drowned in the din of alarms.
“We’re losing coolant,” Frank shouted over the noise. “We need to vent immediately!”
But it was too late. The backup generators were gone, flooded. With the loss of offsite power the cooling systems were useless, and so were the electric motors that opened the ceiling vents in the containment dome. The reactor cores and the spent fuel pools glowed and bubbled. Steam rose. They were drifting inexorably towards a catastrophic meltdown.
In New York City, Mayor Adams was already at odds with Governor Hochul over her plans. “We can’t just abandon the city,” he pleaded.
Hochul shook her head. “If Millstone goes and wind direction doesn’t change, you’re in the direct path of the fallout. We have to get people out. We should start now and notify the hospitals and senior care centers.”
“But Governor, that has never been done. Even on 9–11. It is simply not possible to evacuate 8 million people.”
Chapter 4: The Scramble
In Connecticut, it would be up to Jared Collins to coordinate the evacuation. After speaking with the NRC, he spoke to Lamont. “Governor, we need to get people out of the potential fallout zone. Given anticipated wind direction, that looks like the entire Southeastern corridor over to New York City.”
Governor Lamont nodded, his expression one of resignation but no hesitation. “Do it. But we can’t abandon Millstone. Not yet. The grid can’t handle a complete shutdown.” He was apparently unaware that avoiding a shutdown was no longer on his menu of choices.
At Millstone, the situation was rapidly deteriorating. The plant’s defenses were no match for the Hurricane’s wrath, and the nuclear fuel, uncovered, was now becoming a toxic lava flow, waiting to flash to steam at any contact with water.
Evacuation was not happening. The storm had taken away pre-planned escape routes. The New Haven Railroad had lost hundreds of miles of track. Roads and bridges were severely damaged and covered in debris. Greyhound buses, city buses and county schoolbuses, those that were still intact, could not reach the public shelters or evacuation points.
In New York City, Mayor Adams was facing a second growing crisis. Lower Manhattan was under a foot of water. Metro subways were flooded. Reports were coming in that the Shoreham nuclear power station on Long Island was also experiencing problems due to the flooding, compounding the potential for disaster.
“Governor Hochul, we are evacuating the city,” Adams conceded, his voice trembling with regret. “If both Millstone and Shoreham go, the consequences will be unimaginable.”
Hochul replied, “I’ve already spoken to the President. We’re expecting the worst. I am sending the National Guard. Put out the word. Get out now.”
As the storm now moved away to the Northeast, toward Boston and the Seabrook Nuclear Power Station, the fate of the most densely populated major city in the United States hung by a thread. More than 8 million lives teetered at the edge of a catastrophe unlike any the world had ever seen — except for Fukushima, Chernobyl, and Three Mile Island. For those living farthest away, evacuation was still a viable option. For those nearest to the danger and at greatest risk, it was not.
Circling the area in the Marine One helicopter, POTUS was again briefed by the Chairman of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. “It is just a matter of time, Mr. President,” Christopher Hanson warned. “Once the reactors and spent fuel pool are compromised, the consequences can not be avoided.”
Biden’s jaw tightened. “Then we need to do everything in our power to prevent that from happening.”
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Chapter 5: The Oval Office
After Marine One returned him to the White House, President Joe Biden sat behind the Resolute Desk, his brow furrowed as he regarded the men arrayed before him.
To his right stood Christopher Hanson, the Chairman of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, a man whose usual air of confidence seemed shaken by the gravity of the situation. Around the room were Biden’s Chief of Staff, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the head of Homeland Security, and the Secretary of Energy, their faces filled with concern.
“Gentlemen and women,” Biden began, his voice low and measured. “I want to know why we’re in this mess. Didn’t the GAO report in April 2024 warn us about the vulnerabilities at Millstone?”
Hanson shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yes, Mr. President. The report highlighted the potential risks posed by severe weather events and the aging infrastructure at nuclear facilities like Millstone.”
“License applicants are responsible for ensuring their plants are protected against natural hazards like weather. The hazards that would have been considered in Millstone’s license and enforced by NRC still today would have included any foreseeable weather events… in 1967.”
“And yet, here we are, and it is not 1967,” Biden said, his jaw tightening. “A Category 4 Hurricane, combined with rapid sea level rise, hitting a nuclear power plant. Who would have foreseen that in 1967?” He seemed to be rehearsing for a speech.
Hanson pushed back. “Millstone is owned by Virginia-based Dominion Energy. Company officials have said they have been working to make upgrades regarding the GAO’s findings.”
Biden interrupted. “I am not so old that I have forgotten what Dominion said after Hurricane Ida in 2021. After you…” he stuck his finger in Hanson’s direction, “… investigated why the plant had flooded in an event that was even less than a Category One, you concluded that plant operators violated requirements, but you called those of ‘very low safety significance’ and did not issue penalties. Now tell me the truth, Chris, and be honest with me. Dominion’s bad performance during that storm was more than minor, wasn’t it? Didn’t they delay protecting the plant until after the hurricane and flooding was already in progress?”
Hanson took a deep breath, his expression grave. “Mr. President, the NRC is caught between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, we have the responsibility to ensure the safety of these facilities and the communities they serve. But on the other hand, we face immense pressure from the energy industry and its lobbyists.”
The President’s eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me that the NRC has been compromised by corporate interests?”
“Not compromised, per se,” Hanson clarified. “But there’s a constant push-and-pull between safety regulations and the need to keep these plants operational. The energy demands of the nation are immense, and nuclear power is still a significant part of the equation and a centerpiece of your climate strategy.”
Biden leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the Chairman. “And what about climate change? Shouldn’t that have been factored in?”
Hanson nodded solemnly. “You’re absolutely right, Mr. President. The increasing frequency and severity of extreme weather events like this hurricane are a direct result of climate change. And yet, the very nuclear plants that are supposed to be part of the solution are now at risk from these same events.”
The room fell silent, the weight of Hanson’s words hanging in the air. The President’s expression was unreadable as he considered the implications.
Finally, Biden spoke, his voice laced with determination. “I want a full review of the NRC’s policies and procedures. We cannot allow this kind of complacency to put the lives of millions at risk. If we’re going to continue relying on nuclear power, we need to ensure that safety is the top priority, no matter the cost or whose toes get stepped on.”
Hanson nodded, his face drained. “You have my word, Mr. President. We will do whatever it takes to prevent a disaster like this from happening again.”
As the room emptied, leaving just the President and his Chief of Staff, the two men in the Oval Office knew that the real battle was far from over. Even if Millstone could be saved — and the entire industrial weight of the US was being thrown into that battle — there would still be an emotionally divisive, partisan war to balance energy needs, environmental concerns, and the safety of the American people. Moreover, if New York City could not be saved, and that was a real possibility, his fate could be the same as that of Jimmy Carter following Three Mile Island or Mikael Gorbachev after Chernobyl.
Chapter 6: Meltdown
Despite their best efforts, the situation at Millstone continued to deteriorate. The reactors were now in full meltdown, and the spent fuel pool was dangerously overheating.
“We’re losing containment,” Frank Miller shouted, his voice hoarse from hours of shouting orders. We need to evacuate.” His words were barely out of his mouth when a thump rocked the control room. A spark had ignited hydrogen gas that had been building up under the containment dome since coolant pressure first failed. A mushroom cloud of radioactivity was ascending to the stratosphere as radioactive chunks of the concrete containment building fell on the facility’s grounds.
A massive dark cloud pushed off to the West, continuously fed by a roaring fuel fire below. Within two hours, warm ash, as from a volcano, began to rain on New Haven.
In New York City, evacuation efforts were in full swing, assisted by the National Guard. Mayor Adams watched on monitors in the Emergency Center as thousands of people queued for buses to take them out of the city, their faces filled with fear and uncertainty.
In Guilford, West Haven and Bridgeport, those who could move inland were doing so. Those who could not hunkered down in darkened, powerless houses with windows latched, or ventured out onto abandoned neighborhood streets in search of some news. They did not yet grasp why the falling rain seemed to burn their skin. It kept burning even after they tried to wash it off. Soon the same rain began to fall on Stony Brook and Huntington, Long Island.
At the White House, the Chairman of the NRC informed the Commander in Chief, “Mr. President, Shoreham and Seabrook have been secured but we’ve lost containment at Millstone.” Carlson’s voice lowered and became more grave. “A radioactive release is imminent. The strong offshore winds are driving to West by Southwest, the worst possible scenario.”
Biden’s jaw tightened. “Then we have no choice. Order the evacuation of the entire tri-state area. And may God help us all.”
As the hours ticked by, the situation at Millstone grew increasingly dire. Despite their best efforts, the meltdown was now unstoppable. And then, a second massive hydrogen explosion rocked the plant, igniting much of the spent fuel in storage and sending a still greater plume of radioactive material into the atmosphere. The fallout drifted out across the Sound and straight toward New York City, pushed at 30 to 40 miles per hour by the relentless winds.
Chapter 7: The Day After
In days and weeks that followed, the coastal tri-state area was abandoned to become a cluster of ghost towns and federal exclusion zones. Millions had been evacuated, but countless others were left behind to slowly wither and die, or to have their lives shortened and cruelly warped by the deadly radiation. New York City, once the beating heart of America, was now a toxic wasteland, likely uninhabitable for decades. Gone was the thriving North Shore of Long Island from Great Neck to Rocky Point. Abandoned were the old colonial towns of Saybrook, Norwalk, Stamford, Port Chester, and Yonkers. They resembled Prityapat, in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.
As the wind died and the dust settled, the true cost of the disaster became clear. Countless lives had been lost, and the environmental and economic toll was incalculable. The Millstone Meltdown would go down in history as one of the worst nuclear disasters the world had ever seen, a tragic reminder of the fragility of human existence and the consequences of hubris.
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References
Sweet, W. V. et al, Global and Regional Sea Level Rise Scenarios for the United States: Updated Mean Projections and Extreme Water Level Probabilities Along U.S. Coastlines, NOAA Technical Report NOS 01 (Silver Spring, MD: Feb. 2022).
USGAO, Report to Congressional Requesters, Nuclear Power Plants, NRC Should Take Actions to Fully Consider the Potential Effects of Climate Change, GAO-24–106326, April 2024
Special thanks to Gemini and Perplexity for helping to craft this narrative, to Senator Joe Manchin for requesting the GAO investigation, for whatever nefarious reasons, and to the General Accounting Office for making the neglect of this discussion so apparent. An NRC spokesman said agency officials will respond to the report’s findings in greater detail in the coming months.
Meanwhile, let’s end these wars. We support peace in the West Bank and Gaza and the efforts by the Center for Constitutional Rights, National Lawyers Guild, Government of South Africa and others to bring an immediate cessation to the war. Global Village Institute’s Peace Thru Permaculture initiative has sponsored the Green Kibbutz network in Israel and the Marda Permaculture Farm in the West Bank for over 30 years and will continue to do so, with your assistance. We aid Ukrainian families seeking refuge in ecovillages and permaculture farms along the Green Road and work to heal collective trauma everywhere through the Pocket Project. Please direct donations to these efforts at ecovillage@thefarm.org. You can read all about it on the Global Village Institute website (GVIx.org). Thank you for your support.
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