Aptos

Dale George Bridenbaugh, a long-time Aptos resident and nuclear engineer whose actions and testimony before Congress helped spark the anti-nuclear movement in the mid-1970s, died peacefully at age 93 in Portland, Oregon on Memorial Day, surrounded by family.

A man of honor, integrity and conviction, Dale had a gentle spirit and a quiet strength that commanded attention when he spoke. His courageous words about the danger of nuclear power plants helped halt their construction in the U.S. for decades.

In 1976, Dale’s sudden resignation from General Electric made international news and sent alarms about nuclear power, which at the time was seen as a safe and cheap new technology.

“Nuclear power has become a technological monster and it is not clear who, if anyone is in control,” he wrote in his resignation letter. “I have become deeply concerned about the impact — environmentally, politically, socially and genetically —that nuclear power has made and potentially can make to life on earth.”

Dale’s journey began during the dustbowl, on a windswept farm outside of Miller, South Dakota with no electricity or running water, where he was born November 20, 1931. As a child, he lived a hardscrabble life with few comforts, driving a tractor to help with the harvests and riding his horse to a one-room school house. In later years, he never ceased having a sense of wonder and gratitude at how his life had unfolded.

After serving in the army during the Korean War, Dale worked as engineer at GE with the construction of the first large-scale nuclear plant in the U.S. It was while working at the Dresden plant outside of Chicago that he met the love of his life, Charlotte Ann Olson. Happily married for more than 66 years, they created the stable family life he had longed for as a boy. But they also built a life filled with adventure.

As the demand for nuclear power soared in the 1960s and early 1970s, he supervised the operation and safety of new plants around the globe. And yet, as his success grew, so did his unease about its risks of this technology. At issue was the safety of the Mark 1 nuclear power plant design, about 25 of which were in the U.S. and about 10 overseas. He identified a major flaw, which could result in rupture and the major release of radiation, and, at the same time, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission began to investigate. Unwilling to downplay the problem, Dale resigned from GE and went public with his concerns, testifying before Congress and giving media interviews to such outlets as The New York Times and The CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite.

The statements in his resignation letter reverberated around the globe. “I see no way for us to develop the ability to maintain the perfect human and technical control needed for the long periods of time necessarily involved with the highly toxic materials we are producing,” he declared. “This is not something I wish to pass on to my children and future generations to control. Contributing to the advancement of such proliferation now seems immoral and is no longer an acceptable occupation for me.”

Ending his career with GE marked a tumultuous time for Dale and his family. Living in San Jose, a GE “company town,” the backlash was swift and unsparing. That summer of 1976, jobless, he took his family on at our of the country in their VW bus.

From this period of uncertainty, Dale built a new career helping governments around the world to improve nuclear safety. He had resigned together with two other top engineers, Gregory Minor and Richard Hubbard. Known as the “GE Three,” they formed a consulting company and were highly sought-after following the Three-Mile Island disaster and other nuclear accidents. They became leading figures in the international anti-nuclear movement and were, in the late 1970s, hired as consultants for the Hollywood movie, “The China Syndrome,” about a nightmarish nuclear meltdown.

In retirement, Dale and his wife were active and engaged members of the Santa Cruz, California community, where they lived for 35 years on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. There, he led building projects for Habitat for Humanity, a passion that also called him to Central America and Portugal, building homes for the needy. Dale was also drawn to remote mountains. His fondest memories included backpacking in the high Sierras and trekking in the Himalayan peaks with his family.

He enjoyed picking olallieberries and making homemade jam, tinkering in his workshop and fixing things, and cheering on the Washington Nationals baseball team. Above all, he loved the simple pleasures of spaghetti and meatballs, and ice cream for dessert. Ever learning and seeking spiritual meaning, Dale and his wife found tranquility later in life with Buddhist meditation and yoga. Even in retirement, Dale remained committed to environmentalism and nuclear safety. He traveled to Japan in his mid-eighties to serve an expert following the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear accident. In the months prior to his death, he gave a television interview to Japanese media on the tenth anniversary of the disaster.

Dale is survived by his wife, along with his three children, Paul Bridenbaugh, an artist and professor in San Bruno, California; Kathryn Bridenbaugh, a bank executive in Portland, Oregon; and Thomas Bridenbaugh, an attorney in Washington, D.C.; along with six grandchildren. His younger sister, MaryJo Moen, lives in Richland, Washington. He was preceded by death by his sisters Barbara Obert and Helen Phillips.

A celebration of his life will be held at Touchmark of the West Hills, his retirement community in Portland, on July 20. In lieu of flowers, please consider donations to the Sierra Club in his name. According to his wishes, his ashes will be scattered at Emily Lake in high Sierras, a place very dear to him and his family.