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Albert Swank Jr., a 55-year-old civil engineer in Anchorage, Alaska, is a man with a mission. He wants to install a nuclear particle accelerator in his home.But when neighbors learned of plans to place the 20-ton device inside the house where Swank operates his engineering firm, their response was swift:Not in my backyard... .Local lawmakers rushed to introduce emergency legislation banning the use of cyclotrons in home businesses. State health officials took similar steps, and have suspended Swank's permit to operate cyclotrons on his property."Some of the neighbors who are upset about the cyclotron have started calling it SHAFT -- Swank's high-energy accelerator for tomography," attorney Alan Tesche said. "Part of what's got everyone so upset is we're not sure when it's going to arrive on the barge. We know Anchorage is gonna get the SHAFT, but we just don't know when." Tesche is also the local assemblyman who represents the area where Swank and his cyclotron would reside.Johns Hopkins University agreed to donate the used cyclotron, which is roughly six feet tall by eight feet wide, to Swank's business, Langdon Engineering and Management.The devices are relatively scarce in Alaska, and are used to produce radioactive substances that can be injected into patients undergoing PET scans.Short for positron emission tomography, a PET scan is similar to an X-ray. During the imaging procedure, radioactive material administered to the patient can help medical professionals detect cancerous tissue inside the body. The substance typically remains radioactive for only a couple of hours.For Swank, the backyard cyclotron is a personal quest: He lost his father to cancer years ago, and he says his community needs the medical resource. He also wants to use it to inspire young people to learn about science."My father worked with me while I was building my first cyclotron at age 17 in this same home, and he encouraged all of the educational pursuits that resulted in who I am," Swank said."Because of that and my desire to not see other cancer patients suffer -- if I can use this technology to prevent one hour of suffering, or stimulate one young person's mind to pursue science, I will devote every resource that I possess to that."Swank maintains the device is not dangerous for nearby residents.But assemblyman Tesche says noble intentions don't outweigh potential risks and nuisances. He and others fear a particle accelerator could pose hazards such as radiation leak risks to nearby residences. They also think the large amount of electricity it consumes could drain available power in the neighborhood."We in Alaska embrace technology, and we love it -- but we would like to see this in a hospital or industrial area, where it belongs," Tesche said. "We don't need cyclotrons operating out of back alleys, or in someone's garage."In a letter to the city assembly, the South Addition Community Council compared potential damage from a cyclotron mishap to the Three Mile Island nuclear reactor accident."Cyclotrons are not nuclear reactors," explains Roger Dixon of the Fermi National Accelerator laboratory or Fermilab in Illinois, funded by the U.S. Department of Energy. "Probably the worst thing that could happen with small cyclotrons is that the operator might electrocute themselves."At Fermilab, Dixon oversees the world's highest-energy collider, about four miles in circumference. It smashes matter and antimatter together so scientists can study the nature of energy.Dixon told Wired News that shielding from concrete walls or lead sheets is typically used to prevent the electrical beams produced by smaller cyclotrons from escaping."Our neighbors here at Fermilab like us," said Dixon. "But then, our particle accelerator is not installed in a living room."Some of Swank's neighbors are not worried. Veronica Martinson, a homemaker who has lived next door to Swank for 36 years, thinks a cyclotron next door might be a good thing."Albert was a star science student when he was a child," Martinson said. "He wants schoolchildren to be around this, so they'll learn how this works, and be curious about physics. One of them might turn out to be our next big scientist."Johns Hopkins University public affairs officer Gary Stephenson says the institution agreed to donate the used cyclotron to Swank's engineering firm "with understanding and assurances that it was to benefit the citizens of Alaska for medical needs," and only with proper permission from local authorities.Despite having had his operating permits suspended, Swank plans to remove the cyclotron from its current site at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore on Jan. 23, then ship it by truck and barge to Alaska.But the Anchorage Assembly plan to hold an emergency public hearing on Dec. 20 to determine whether he will be permitted to install the device at his lifelong residence.
Feh! The neighbors will simply not be lold about my basement warp core.
Quote from: Stormbringer on December 02, 2005, 02:48:23 amFeh! The neighbors will simply not be lold about my basement warp core.They'll figure it out when you bring Vulcans home for dinner
Quote from: Maxillius NCC-13443 on December 04, 2005, 06:14:05 pmQuote from: Stormbringer on December 02, 2005, 02:48:23 amFeh! The neighbors will simply not be lold about my basement warp core.They'll figure it out when you bring Vulcans home for dinner Why? do they taste good?
Topic: I almost thought StormBringer went Crazy... (Read 2381 times)