Roughly 60 years ago, we almost lost Detroit. The Cold War was, no pun intended, cooling down as the USA and Soviet Union both strove to make advances in fields not directly related to warfare. Much like the space race, there was a race for improved power generation capabilities, some of which carried immense risks. These risks were accepted by the government for the sake of getting ahead, while working in tandem with corporations vying for dominance in a new market. Enter the Fermi 1 breeder reactor, located in Monroe County, Michigan, a city of over 100,000, only 40 minutes downwind from the far larger population center of Detroit.
It was like having a nuclear bomb in people's backyards, and just because it wasn’t "as dangerous as people say" doesn’t mean it wasn’t a massive disaster caused by negligence and the pursuit of profit and power.
Based on a "novel" sodium-cooled reactor, the new system was mired in controversy long before construction, as a previous test of the system had resulted in a meltdown of the test core and even landed in the halls of Congress. Despite this, the concept was eventually accepted, and permits were given to begin constructing such reactors.
The year is 1966, and it is October 5th as the Fermi 1 breeder reactor attempts a run-up to pre-established power levels. At first, the test ran smoothly, with Fermi 1 reaching 20,000 kW of power generation by 3:00 p.m. However, just a few minutes later, at 3:05 p.m., lead operator Mike Weber noticed an abnormality in the thermal conductivity of the reactor core. To avoid overwhelming you with technical details, the reactor underwent a partial meltdown but was fortunately prevented from becoming a nuclear disaster like Chernobyl two decades later.
The reporting and response to the incident were muddled, with accusations of cover-ups, but overall, it highlighted the dangers of nuclear reactors located near population centers and the relentless pursuit of advancement, regardless of safety. Reports from the United States Nuclear Regulatory Commission concluded that a full meltdown would only be seriously dangerous within a 10-mile radius, suggesting some hyperbole in future reporting of the incident. However, catchy title or not, tens of thousands of lives would have still been dramatically affected. It was an incredibly dangerous mistake, rooted in the political climate of the time.
On "We Almost Lost Detroit (1977)", Gil-Scott Heron, flanked by pianist Brian Jackson, gave his opinion on the narrowly avoided nuclear disaster which nearly enveloped southern Michigan. One of the most monumental figures in both American musical and protest cultures, Heron's fight extended to much more than just his issues with nuclear power.
Powerful songs like "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised (1971)" and poems such as the brilliant, "His Story/ Black History (1982)" are just a few of the amazing works which he released in his 40+ year career.
His incredibly astute and opinionated mind was complemented by a voice that could cut through butter, combining into an incredibly charismatic and intellectually gifted musical virtuoso. There were even rumors that he was a pretty mediocre singer when he first took on the role of lead vocalist, yet his voice more than made up for his lack of initial ability. He is also credited as one of the "Godfathers" of rap due to the political messaging in his music, as well as his poetic lyricism. Some of this influence can also be attributed to Brian Jackson, his longtime collaborator before their split due to creative differences in 1979. The melodies Jackson constructed have been sampled by the likes of Kanye West, Mos Def, and MF DOOM, becoming staples in sample culture.
"We Almost Lost Detroit" is an enchanting song, with a powerful yet plain-as-day message ....one of the most straightforward and powerful protest songs of all time.
But enough of me raving about Gil Scott-Heron, though I could easily do so (and might sometime soon) for paragraphs on end. "We Almost Lost Detroit" was performed by Scott-Heron as the lead vocalist, with Brian Jackson on the piano, Fred Payne on guitar, Danny Bowens on bass, and Reggie Brisbane bringing everything together on drums. The song begins with an interplanetary-sounding electric piano, eventually joined by the rest of the instruments in a silky-smooth melody. One could easily get lost in just how good the song sounds and miss the critical message Scott-Heron is trying to convey. He talks about the reactor, saying how "it ticks each night as the city sleeps, seconds from annihilation." Again, I must note that this is a bit of hyperbole, considering the earlier discussion about the radiation's reach. However, the general idea is what's important.
The reactor ran on an incredibly dangerous and experimental coolant material, which could have easily caused a complete meltdown if not caught in time. It was like having a nuclear bomb in people's backyards, and just because it wasn’t "as dangerous as people say" doesn’t mean it wasn’t a massive disaster caused by negligence and the pursuit of profit and power.
By the end of the song, the tempo picks up as Scott-Heron begins singing with more vigor and authority, underscoring the importance of his concerns about the disaster and nuclear energy in general. He also mentions Karen Silkwood, a chemical technician who became a key figure in early activism for increased nuclear safety and regulations. Scott-Heron asks, "What would Karen Silkwood say, if she were still alive?"—a nod to the monolithic activist who tragically died a few years before her beliefs were proven true. His warning in the song also turned out to be almost prophetic, as only two years after its release, the Three Mile Island accident occurred.
While it may be true that we did not actually "almost lose Detroit," ....many people would have still been severely affected by the complete meltdown of the reactor
The meltdown there was also partial, but the consequences were incredibly far-reaching, with the incident being rated as a Level Five on the seven-point International Nuclear Event Scale, marking it as an "Accident with Wider Consequences." Yet, it's hard to call this prophetic, as such a disaster seemed inevitable not only to Scott-Heron but also to droves of activists and scientists (who were often one and the same).
"We Almost Lost Detroit" is an enchanting song, with a powerful yet plain-as-day message. Not only is it ripe with majestic sounds for producers to pick apart and reassemble for generations to come, but it is also, in my opinion, one of the most straightforward and powerful protest songs of all time. Scott-Heron had an otherworldly ability to compose some of the most beautiful poems and songs, packed full of metaphors and language that you’d only find in a lexicon, yet still easily understandable and accessible for anyone who wanted to listen.
Overall, if there is any lesson to take from this article and Gil Scott-Heron's incredible song, it is this: while it may be true that we did not actually "almost lose Detroit," playing games of semantics is pointless in the face of how many people would have still been severely affected by the complete meltdown of the reactor, which was only stopped with a helping hand from lady luck.
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