On March 11, 2022, the Gregg family commemorated a significant yet haunting anniversary: 64 years since the day nine-year-old Frances, her six-year-old sister Helen, and their nine-year-old cousin Ellen Davies were playing just a short distance from a special playhouse built for them near the woods behind their Florence, South Carolina home. What seemed like a typical day would soon become the stuff of nightmares as an atomic bomb unexpectedly detonated, landing perilously close to their innocent play area.
The calamity, which struck the small suburb of Mars Bluff, has largely faded from public consciousness in South Carolina. Yet, the remnants of that fateful day—known as the Mars Bluff bomb crater—serve as an eerie roadside landmark, reminding visitors of the near tragedy that unfolded. It is a sobering reflection on the vulnerability of lives during a time when nuclear technology was still in its infancy and evokes chilling thoughts about what a similar event could mean in today’s rapidly evolving technological landscape.
The incident, occurring in a community still grappling with the shockwaves of that moment, led to more than just a change in the road’s name to Crater Road. The fallout—both literal and metaphorical—transformed their world forever.
When the bomb struck, its conventional explosive materials detonated. Fortunately, even more catastrophic destruction and casualties were averted because the nuclear core, which is crucial for its full function, was housed separately on the aircraft. This incident occurred when the bomb was unintentionally released from its securing mechanism during a flight on a U.S. Air Force B-47 bomber headed to Europe. It is unsettling to realize that the bomb is capable of detonating even without all its essential components.
As the bomber flew over South Carolina on its way to Europe, a warning light indicating a malfunction activated in the cockpit, highlighting the potential dangers associated with such military equipment.
During a routine inspection, a crew member mistakenly grabbed the emergency release pin instead of the harnessing lock pin for the bomb. This unintended action caused the bomb, weighing 7,600 pounds, to be dislodged from its hold, crashing down into the plane’s interior and subsequently forcing open the bay doors as the aircraft passed over South Carolina. The bomb plummeted 15,000 feet to the ground below. While the incident was an accident and the crew member’s actions were not to blame, it underscored a significant flaw in the safety technology, which was not designed to prevent such human errors.
The bomb landed on the Gregg family’s property, resulting in the destruction of their playhouse.
The Greggs’ home was the site of a tragic incident that resulted in damage to seven different structures. Fragments from the explosion scattered widely, and remnants can still be found on display at a museum in Florence, South Carolina.
Three young girls who were playing outside suffered injuries in the incident, as did their parents and their brother. Thankfully, there were no fatalities, but the event remains an unforgettable memory for the Gregg family.
A tragic incident recently captured global attention, putting South Carolina in the spotlight for an extended period. While it’s never ideal to be recognized for such a calamity, some argue that any publicity can be beneficial.
At the location of the massive crater—measuring 70 feet across and 35 feet deep—a kiosk now stands, showcasing a collection of newspaper articles and stories from the event. This spot has transformed into an intriguing roadside attraction for travelers passing through South Carolina, representing the most positive outcome that could arise from such an unfortunate situation.
Visitors to the area can explore a kiosk that provides information about the atomic bomb that fell in South Carolina. Fortunately, since the bomb’s core remained on the aircraft, there was no radiation released. Consequently, the only aftermath included physical injuries, some damage, and the tragic loss of a few chickens.
Located in Florence, the Florence County Museum features an exhibit focused on this event, showcasing authentic fragments of the bomb that are meticulously displayed in an airtight case behind secure glass.
It’s both striking and fascinating to reflect on the historical impact of the bomb that once rocked this South Carolina county many years ago. Today, Mars Bluff, South Carolina, has become a notable footnote in the state’s history.
At the site, visitors can view a display that replicates the actual dimensions of the bomb that fell from above. Additionally, the crater left by the blast is still evident, though it has been filled in since its original depth of 35 feet. This remarkable site serves as a reminder of the event that forever changed the area.
The Gregg family has finally let go of their land, having moved on both physically and emotionally from the difficult experience they faced.