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"We are the rare and hopefully last human beings, directly and generationally affected by the above-ground testing and use of nuclear weapons."
Kathy Sinai cofounder StillGlowing.org TPNW Breakout Presentation My father was a 17-year-old at the Pacific Proving Grounds in 1958. He witnessed men being scrubbed with wire brushes and felt the fear, anger, and panic of his commanders when an open porthole was reported below deck during a test. For decades, he feared government retaliation if he spoke up. The secrecy was ingrained in him—the weight of silence, the fear of losing his benefits, the unspoken rule to never question authority. I advocated for years for others because my dad was too afraid for me to do it for him.
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When I was diagnosed with a brain tumor, my father could not bear to acknowledge it. Confronting it meant confronting the truth he had been forced to bury. He was diagnosed with OCD and PTSD, and last April, he passed away from four cancers, losing him in just 28 days.
Our voices, our genetics, our trauma—these unite us as a global community. The private and veterans' medical sectors must recognize our conditions, and funding is essential to ensure we are heard. We need acknowledgement and understanding. iglow has taken the first steps, forging partnerships to bring light to our struggle. For four years, StillGlowing searched for a genetic company willing to work with us. Again and again, we heard "hot potato"—institutions feared the implications of aligning with our cause. Then, we met a biologist on social media, someone who also suffered from rare illnesses. He understood the frustration of our story and wanted to help.
It has been difficult to help people understand that the denial of our experiences is, in itself, a trauma. Dr. Danieli reached out to our community, offering the Danieli Inventory—a validated tool and 'Gold Standard' for assessing the impacts of multigenerational trauma. We spent almost a year working with multiple nuclear-affected communities to quantify our trauma. We need this alongside genetic research to build treatment protocols and better understand our global family’s history and future.
We are one generation removed from the silence and secrets carried by our parents. Our lived experience of illness and trauma span almost 80 years.
Over the years it has become clear, our global, nuclear-exposed community shares many secrets, fears, and physical anomalies. Our struggle remains the same—we have been denied access to the scientific truth about our own bodies and emotions. Our medical history has been classified. Our lived truth has been denied.
Victoria was conceived after her father's 34 nuclear exposures, including Operations IVY and Bravo. Deemed presumptive for genetic damage, she was treated as a high-risk pregnancy at San Diego Naval Base’s Balboa Hospital. At age 12 (1968), The Gold Team at Oak Knoll Naval Hospital revealed her future genetic risks. She was shown photos of Marshallese babies born with radiation-related genetic issues told she must never have children. Without her consent, she was placed on birth control by the U.S. Navy. Her family was required to use exclusive Naval medical facilities due to her father’s "Q Clearance" and kaleidoscope of cancers—for research purposes and his treatment needs.
By 23, a full hysterectomy was required. She has survived the same cancer as her father, undergoing multiple surgeries and near-death experiences. With clearance now expired, at age 62, she is able to channel her forced silence and emotions into her art. She and I founded StillGlowing, after President Obama's intervention was unable to facilitate assistance following an answered email campaign.
Many communities have yet to be seen or heard as affected at all. I call them MacArthur's men—the 40,000 to 70,000 men were sent into Japan shortly after Hiroshima and Nagasaki. While on their humanitarian mission, they fell in love, and still were expected to stay silent. In just one case, a Japanese adult child found her father 2 years after he passed away in America. She found out he tried to bring her mother and her to America, but he wasn't allowed. She had a family who loved her. It was one of the more emotional conversations I've had. These men remain unacknowledged as nuclear radiation-affected soldiers. Many never recovered from what they witnessed.
Another veteran, Frank, received numerous military honors. He later developed lung cancer and passed away on April 22, 1961, leaving behind two daughters, aged six and four. One was born with a severe hole in her heart and a rare immune deficiency disease linked to radiation exposure. The other has struggled with lifelong autoimmune diseases. Frank's adult children continue to battle the denial and secrecy surrounding their father’s experience and death.
Many of the young men initially sent to the Pacific Proving Grounds and those sent to clean up after nuclear testing formed deep connections with the Marshall Islands and her people. Some carry guilt, knowing the mission wasn’t a complete success. Many healthy young men, aged 18-25, returned home sterile. Many suffered divorce and deep psychological distress. Now, as grown men, for those still living, many are reduced to tears believing their children and grandchildren suffer from cancers and birth defects they believe are their fault. It of course is not. The stress and concern they carry is palpable on phone calls.
Henry Mayo Jr. was subjected to both human chemical weapons testing at Ft. McClellan and nuclear weapons tests. Denied care by the VA despite clear exposure, he took a bus 200 miles to the nearest VA hospital for care. Even after being interviewed by CNN—garnering much attention and hope—his situation didn't change. Despite everything, he remained a kind and dignified man.
Glen Harrison Daniel, a decorated Airborne Ranger, witnessed the devastating effects of these weapons at Operation Redwing. Airborne units were deployed to observe and assess the tests, often without adequate protection. Soldiers were exposed to varying radiation levels, leading to long-term health consequences. Glen suffered from cancer and deteriorating mental health. Two of his children ultimately took their own lives. His son wept at the idea of his father being remembered here.
Nuclear weapons are still moving forward. I had a meeting with Tri-Valley Cares of Livermore, California, and was told that Lawrence Livermore Laboratory is building new plutonium pits—something that hasn't been done for decades. The new science means more weapons-grade plutonium on the roads (exposing drivers), in the lab for experiments, and generating waste. All within a one-square-mile facility, one-quarter mile from families living their lives.
Survivors and descendants have built a worldwide network of support. We must acknowledge this history and address our future concerns. Many families are just now discovering their nuclear weapons connection, after RECA was ended. The psychological, physical, and generational toll of these tests must be acknowledged and studied.
We carry these stories not as relics of the past but as urgent warnings, medical records releases, healthcare information and calls for justice. Those individuals exposed to nuclear weapons testing deserve transparency, medical care, with better outcomes and protocols. It is time for world leaders to break the silence, declassify our medical histories, and ensure that no future generation suffers as we have.
We are still here. We are StillGlowing. And we will not be silent.
Our voices, our genetics, our trauma—these unite us as a global community. The private and veterans' medical sectors must recognize our conditions, and funding is essential to ensure we are heard. We need acknowledgement and understanding. iglow has taken the first steps, forging partnerships to bring light to our struggle. For four years, StillGlowing searched for a genetic company willing to work with us. Again and again, we heard "hot potato"—institutions feared the implications of aligning with our cause. Then, we met a biologist on social media, someone who also suffered from rare illnesses. He understood the frustration of our story and wanted to help.
It has been difficult to help people understand that the denial of our experiences is, in itself, a trauma. Dr. Danieli reached out to our community, offering the Danieli Inventory—a validated tool and 'Gold Standard' for assessing the impacts of multigenerational trauma. We spent almost a year working with multiple nuclear-affected communities to quantify our trauma. We need this alongside genetic research to build treatment protocols and better understand our global family’s history and future.
We are one generation removed from the silence and secrets carried by our parents. Our lived experience of illness and trauma span almost 80 years.
Over the years it has become clear, our global, nuclear-exposed community shares many secrets, fears, and physical anomalies. Our struggle remains the same—we have been denied access to the scientific truth about our own bodies and emotions. Our medical history has been classified. Our lived truth has been denied.
Victoria was conceived after her father's 34 nuclear exposures, including Operations IVY and Bravo. Deemed presumptive for genetic damage, she was treated as a high-risk pregnancy at San Diego Naval Base’s Balboa Hospital. At age 12 (1968), The Gold Team at Oak Knoll Naval Hospital revealed her future genetic risks. She was shown photos of Marshallese babies born with radiation-related genetic issues told she must never have children. Without her consent, she was placed on birth control by the U.S. Navy. Her family was required to use exclusive Naval medical facilities due to her father’s "Q Clearance" and kaleidoscope of cancers—for research purposes and his treatment needs.
By 23, a full hysterectomy was required. She has survived the same cancer as her father, undergoing multiple surgeries and near-death experiences. With clearance now expired, at age 62, she is able to channel her forced silence and emotions into her art. She and I founded StillGlowing, after President Obama's intervention was unable to facilitate assistance following an answered email campaign.
Many communities have yet to be seen or heard as affected at all. I call them MacArthur's men—the 40,000 to 70,000 men were sent into Japan shortly after Hiroshima and Nagasaki. While on their humanitarian mission, they fell in love, and still were expected to stay silent. In just one case, a Japanese adult child found her father 2 years after he passed away in America. She found out he tried to bring her mother and her to America, but he wasn't allowed. She had a family who loved her. It was one of the more emotional conversations I've had. These men remain unacknowledged as nuclear radiation-affected soldiers. Many never recovered from what they witnessed.
Another veteran, Frank, received numerous military honors. He later developed lung cancer and passed away on April 22, 1961, leaving behind two daughters, aged six and four. One was born with a severe hole in her heart and a rare immune deficiency disease linked to radiation exposure. The other has struggled with lifelong autoimmune diseases. Frank's adult children continue to battle the denial and secrecy surrounding their father’s experience and death.
Many of the young men initially sent to the Pacific Proving Grounds and those sent to clean up after nuclear testing formed deep connections with the Marshall Islands and her people. Some carry guilt, knowing the mission wasn’t a complete success. Many healthy young men, aged 18-25, returned home sterile. Many suffered divorce and deep psychological distress. Now, as grown men, for those still living, many are reduced to tears believing their children and grandchildren suffer from cancers and birth defects they believe are their fault. It of course is not. The stress and concern they carry is palpable on phone calls.
Henry Mayo Jr. was subjected to both human chemical weapons testing at Ft. McClellan and nuclear weapons tests. Denied care by the VA despite clear exposure, he took a bus 200 miles to the nearest VA hospital for care. Even after being interviewed by CNN—garnering much attention and hope—his situation didn't change. Despite everything, he remained a kind and dignified man.
Glen Harrison Daniel, a decorated Airborne Ranger, witnessed the devastating effects of these weapons at Operation Redwing. Airborne units were deployed to observe and assess the tests, often without adequate protection. Soldiers were exposed to varying radiation levels, leading to long-term health consequences. Glen suffered from cancer and deteriorating mental health. Two of his children ultimately took their own lives. His son wept at the idea of his father being remembered here.
Nuclear weapons are still moving forward. I had a meeting with Tri-Valley Cares of Livermore, California, and was told that Lawrence Livermore Laboratory is building new plutonium pits—something that hasn't been done for decades. The new science means more weapons-grade plutonium on the roads (exposing drivers), in the lab for experiments, and generating waste. All within a one-square-mile facility, one-quarter mile from families living their lives.
Survivors and descendants have built a worldwide network of support. We must acknowledge this history and address our future concerns. Many families are just now discovering their nuclear weapons connection, after RECA was ended. The psychological, physical, and generational toll of these tests must be acknowledged and studied.
We carry these stories not as relics of the past but as urgent warnings, medical records releases, healthcare information and calls for justice. Those individuals exposed to nuclear weapons testing deserve transparency, medical care, with better outcomes and protocols. It is time for world leaders to break the silence, declassify our medical histories, and ensure that no future generation suffers as we have.
We are still here. We are StillGlowing. And we will not be silent.
The Classified Bondage of My Atomic Babylon.
My life is a cautionary tale for all Cildren of Atomic Veterans. It has been my motivation to understand the genetic connection since being warned of it in 1968 by the US Navy's Gold Team. I became hopeful in 1996 with the sequencing of the human genome. At 62, when my 50+ year clearances expired, Kathy Sinai and I committed to my dream of genetic testing resources tailored to our exposed community. Nuclear Weapons Tesing Era Veterans and their descendents represent uniuqe cohort groups with known transgernerational impacts. Expanding our vision to help address our global communities, we created StillGLowing.org and iGLOW.world. To learn more of my story, check out: My Atomic Babylon
Segment graphics from TPNW Breakout Presentation
VICTORIA MOORE cofounder
VICTORIA MOORE cofounder
Bab·y·lon
"Refers to a place of captivity and the power structures that keeps them there."
"Refers to a place of captivity and the power structures that keeps them there."
UNITED NATIONS NGO STATUS
