National Archives and Records Administration
National Medical Library
Naval Medical Research Institute Library
New York Public Library
Oyster Ponds Historical Society
Pennypacker Long Island Collection, East Hampton Library Plum Island Animal Disease Center Library Simon Wiesenthal Center
Society for the Preservation of Long Island Antiquities
Southold Free Library
Southold Town Archives
Suffolk County Historical Society
U.S. Army Corps of Engineers
U.S. Centers for Disease Control
U.S. Department of Agriculture
U.S. Department of Homeland Security
U.S. General Accounting Office
U.S. Office of Technology Assessment
U.S. House of Representatives
U.S. Senate
Army Intelligence and Security Command
Army Soldier Biological and Chemical Command
Central Intelligence Agency
Department of Agriculture[58]
Department of the Army
Environmental Protection Agency
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Nuclear Regulatory Commission
Occupational Safety and Health Administration
Office of Naval Research
Office of Special Counsel
Acknowledgments
Lab 257 was a project seven years in the making. Many people are responsible for its fruition, but no one save me is responsible for its shortcomings.
To the current and former scientists and workers of Plum Island, and to the local ombudsmen and lay historians featured in the book— including those who asked for anonymity — I thank you for sharing your memories, experiences, and tribulations with me, and for helping me to understand Plum Island through your eyes. Special thanks to Plum Island librarian Honore Mcllvain; photographer Elizabeth Clark; engineer Charles Wenderoth; Martin Weinmiller; William Schlichtig; former Plum Islanders Phillip Piegari, Ben Robbins, Stanley Mickaliger, and John Patrick Boyle; and Lyme disease activist Steven Nostrum. The full story would not be possible without the initial cooperation of former Plum Island directors Drs. Jerry J. Callis, Roger G. Breeze, and David L. Huxsoll.
I would also like to thank New York State Senator Charles J. Fuschillo, Jr., and Assemblywoman Patricia L. Acampora; David Kerkhof of the Suffolk County Historical Society; Joseph Majid and David Van Tassel of the National Archives and Records Administration; Janice Goldblum of the National Academy of Sciences; Southold town historian Antonia Booth; Courtney Burns of the Oyster Ponds Historical Society; Joelle Yudin of William Morrow/HarperCollins; Cheryl Fields of the Army Soldier Biological and Chemical Command; Suffolk County archivist Sharon Pullen; and Anne Kohnen, Tammy-Jo Ferdula, Kate Stroup, Dr. Robert Shope, Dr. Thomas Mettenleiter, Dr. Donald Smith, Dr. Simon Whitby, Dr. Kenneth Liegner, Hank Alberelli, Ed Regis, Gregory Koblentz, Fareed Zakaria, Pete Daniel, Gary Stubblefield, Marjorie Tietjen, Jon Rand, Fred Ciporen, Lynn Shepler, Linda Hunt, Jeff Benedict, and John Loftus, all of whom graciously assisted me along the way. Stephanie Reidner and Ute Rodrian helped me translate German books, newspaper articles, and government documents into English. Also, thank you to Dr. Marcia Stone for introducing me to the world of microbiology, and to Dr. Lorrence Green, who tutored me further in the discipline and reviewed and corrected scientific portions of the manuscript. That said, any lingering inaccuracies are entirely my own.
I am indebted to journalist and author Karl Grossman, who spent many hours with me recounting his Plum Island observations and investigations spanning thirty years, and for doing something rare in journalism: sharing a career's worth of reporter's notes, a literal treasure trove crucial to this book, and letting me photocopy it all on his dime. Were it not for Karl's generosity, this book would be something far less, and I thank him for his time, his contacts, and his talent. Former Newsday reporters John McDonald and Drew Fetherston described their reportage of Plum Island-related stories, and John was kind enough to provide me with declassified Army documents he had obtained on Lab 257.
People who write books of this genre generally fall into two camps: accomplished writers and investigative journalists. I am neither. To the extent this book reads worthy of those titles, much of that honor is due Claire Curry and David H. Wheeler. Claire read and reread drafts of the manuscript more times than I can remember, while adding insights and subtracting digressions along the way. Dave set aside untold hours, provided innumerable suggestions, and coached me all the way to the finish line. Their contributions are inestimable. Kaya Laterman tracked down helpful information on different topics. Rebecca Lynch pored through files at the National Archives, spent hours researching and fact-checking, commandeered manuscript revisions, and compiled chapter notes. She has a brilliant creative future ahead of her.
David Tonsmeire, James Muscarella, and Sandra Lauterbach shot photographs of Plum Island from Orient Point (and from Dave's boat), and William "Hall" Wheeler created the map illustration. I thank them for their talented contributions. Two individuals who taught me how to write and how to think at a formative period in my life should be recognized: Rick Cuchel and Bernie "The Bear" Stein. Fellow writer Amy Schapiro deftly guided me from idea to proposal to agent and to publication.
To my family: my mother, sister, and brother, my aunt and uncle, and to my grandparents Neil, Mildred, and Dorothy, thank you — for your love, for putting up with me, and for keeping my spirits high. To my friends who supported and encouraged me over the years, who gave freely their homes, offices, cars, opinions, and, while learning more than they ever wanted to about Plum Island, their ears — I salute you. They are, in no particular order: Michael Slater, James and Jean Marie Faherty, Thomas and Joann Weghorst, Brian Cohen, Vanessa France, Scott Greenspan, Mark Guthart, David Levinbook, Matthew and Jason Vishnick, Kristen Goelz, Jason Weiler, Robert Salvatico, Scott Fless, Sharon Hill, Michael Cornell, Steve Schapiro, Kathy Wu, Gideon Berger, Brandon Baer, Alvin Murstein, Andrew Murstein, and the late John Geiger. At the beginning of this journey, Jon Huzarsky took down interview notes, poked holes, and rode ferries with me — and helped me realize Lab 257 was a story that could — and should — be told. Betty Leyva provided valuable feedback and was instrumental in the homestretch and I am grateful for her support. And finally, hats off to John DeSimone, a selfless friend who gives of himself tirelessly and deserves nothing but the very best out of life.
A debt of gratitude to my two mentors at my old law firm Willkie Farr & Gallagher, partners Steven J. Gartner and Christopher E. Manno, both of whom taught me the ropes of law practice. Steve cheered me up and fed me periodically while on my sabbatical, and Chris helped resurrect my legal career once the manuscript was complete. The firm itself deserves my sincere appreciation for granting me a leave of absence to chase this story.
I'm grateful to my friend, former New York State Governor Mario M. Cuomo, for his sincere interest in my nascent legal and writing careers, and for sharing his philosophical ponderings with me. I am also indebted to the U.S. Congress for enacting the Freedom of Information Act in 1966, which mandates that federal agencies disclose specific information upon request, so that the citizenry can properly evaluate their government's actions (and inactions).
Alicka Pistek saw fit to pluck my query letter out of the pile, meticulously shape the book proposal, and successfully market it. She is a talented literary agent and I thank her for her faith in me and in the story. From the outset, Mauro DiPreta counseled this rookie writer with great skill and aplomb. He helped me focus and define the story, and refined the manuscript from line to theme. A writer with an editor like Mauro in his corner is a writer truly blessed.
58
This agency did not comply with my FOIA request for documentation. After two years without a response, in July 2003 I received a single document, which was so heavily redacted it was unintelligible and useless.