Transcription
Today, I've gone back to Soviet Ukraine in 1986, and I'm heading towards the town of Okay. I've been practicing this prep yet. Forgive me if I butchered that, but it's the epicenter of what we all now know as the Chernobyl disaster. I want to see what life was like here in the hours leading up to it and the aftermath.
Right now, it's 3 p.m. local time, and the explosion happens just after 1:00 a.m. tonight. By my watch, that gives us around 10 hours to explore before the inevitable. We don't have long, so we got to keep moving once we get there.
I said town, but this looks like more of a city to me. It's much bigger than I first thought. Clean streets, apartment blocks, people going about their day. Nearly 50,000 people live here and they're completely unaware of what's going to happen after they go to sleep tonight.
"Excuse me. Is this stop close to the power plant?"
"Chernobyl plant? Yes. 2 km that way. But this is close to stop. Why you want to see?"
"Oh, just sightseeing."
"My brother worked there. Vladimir, you see him? Say hi." [laughter]
"Okay, so first impressions, the vibe is just completely relaxed. A typical Friday afternoon really. People out walking, kids on bikes, nobody in a rush. It just feels so completely normal, which is honestly the most unsettling thing about being here right now."
So, I'm pretty sure I'm trespassing right now, but I'm just going to pretend I live in this apartment block if anyone asks. I want to get a better view of the power plant for you guys before we head closer a bit later. Let's try and get up to the roof.
I knew it was close, but seeing it like this is something else. That right there is the most dangerous place on earth tonight. And nobody down there has any idea. Let's go see some more of the city before we head a bit closer.
So, this is Lenina Avenue, the main boulevard running through the city. Wide roads, big open spaces, everything clean and well-maintained. This was genuinely one of the most modern, wellequipped cities in the entire Soviet Union. People were proud to live here.
Just stop by a grocery store. And it's interesting what it tells you about the Soviet system. Everything subsidized. Bread, milk, rent, utilities. The state provided everything. In return, you didn't ask questions. You worked. You were grateful. That mentality is part of what made the cover up possible. But we'll get to that later.
This is one of five schools here, and it's really well equipped. Separate buildings for different age groups, a sports hall, a swimming pool nearby. The Soviet state invested heavily in education here. These kids had genuinely good facilities. Tomorrow morning, they'll all come back like normal. Nobody will tell them anything is wrong.
I just turned on my translation device. Same as earlier. I forgot to mention. He told me he works at the plant. "Everything at the plant. All good?"
"Yes. Yes. Tonight's small safety test routine. Nothing special."
"He has literally no idea. And why would he? And Mayday, are you excited?"
"My children cannot wait. Ferris wheel opens. Big celebration. Best city in Soviet Union."
I felt so bad for him. He was so wholesome. I had to just force a smile knowing what happens tonight. Let's move on for now and try to appreciate the city while we can. I hope he's not the one doing that safety check he mentioned.
So, time's running out, but I can't come here without visiting the ferris wheel we all see abandoned in the photos. Built for Mayday 5 days from now. It never actually opened. Come on, let's go find it. There it is. In every photo I've ever seen of Chernobyl, that wheel is just sitting there rusting still. Right now, it's brand new, never been touched.
"Excuse me. This might be a long shot, but any chance I can jump on the wheel? I see it's moving."
"Usually, no. But we are testing today. and you are very beautiful. So, it is your lucky day."
"Soviet charm. Who knew? It's beautiful up here. 50,000 people down there just living their lives. If I could change what happens, I'd try to, but it's far too dangerous to meddle with past events. There's the power plant again. 6 hours left now. Reactor number four is somewhere in that complex, and it's going to release more radiation than every nuclear weapon ever detonated combined. From up here, it just looks so small."
So, that was an incredible experience and a lot easier than I thought it would be to get on. We need to keep moving, though. The night shift at the plant starts soon, and I want to see what those so-called safety checks that my friend from earlier mentioned are all about. Let's go.
The further you get from the city, the quieter everything gets. No traffic, no people, just the sound of the wind. And actually, not sure if you can hear that low hum in the distance coming from the plant, but you can actually feel it before you hear it. Around 600 staff are going to be here when the explosion happens. Tonight's night shift is about to start the infamous safety test on reactor number four. It was supposed to be routine, but the test had already been delayed once today because Kiev needed the power output. They should have just canceled it.
That man right there, Anatoli Datloaf, deputy chief engineer. He's running the safety test tonight. Brilliant at his job. Absolutely certain he was right. That certainty is about to cost him everything. I think that's him. The wholesome guy from earlier, minus the mustache, the ferris wheel, his kids.
"Vladimir, I didn't think you were working tonight. Good to see you, my friend."
I was hoping I wouldn't see him this evening. "Wait, Vladimir? He's the bus driver's brother. I heard you say you're part of the safety test tonight."
"Yes. Reactor 4. Reduce power. Simulate shutdown. Test turbine. Routine check. 2 hours maximum, maybe less."
"It takes only 4 seconds for everything to go wrong."
"If you like, I can show you inside. You are journalist. Yes."
"Sure. Yes, journalist."
"Come."
"I am absolutely not a journalist, but we'll roll with it."
"You see security, no speak. Face forward. Walk more. Understand?"
"Understood. All right. So, we're actually doing this right now. So, new outfit. Pretty comfy, actually. We're heading to the control room of Reactor 4. Never thought I'd be getting backstage access to this, but here we are."
"Ah, it is you again."
"Hey. Yeah, just taking a tour. I thought that was you earlier. You shaved, I see."
"Ah, yes. Yes, I shaved for Mayday. Of course, have to look nice."
"Yeah, I don't know if he's even going to survive the explosion, let alone the radiation and longerterm effects of it. It's taking every ounce of me not to tell everyone to get out of here. I'm praying for them."
All right, now this is it. Reactor 4, the exact location of the coming explosion. And yeah, I snuck off if you haven't noticed.
"We have already waited long enough. Now we do the test. Move."
"Excuse me. What time is it?"
"1:00. Please do not disturb. We are about to start test. 23 minutes."
I did not realize I've been here that long. I need to leave right now. [panting] [sighs] Oh my god. I knew it was coming, but nothing could have prepared me for what just happened. I've been here all day. I've met these kind people. They're all still in there. They have no idea. No suits, no protection, nothing. They think it's just a fire. Some of them will be dead within weeks. The guy who let me in gave me a gagger counter as a souvenir. Don't think he thought I'd actually need to use it. It's starting to click. I need to get further away immediately. I don't know why I'm still stood here.
It's morning and I'm exhausted, but I managed to clean myself up a bit and ditch the uniform. People saw, heard, and felt the explosion last night, but don't actually know the full extent. The radiation is already in the air. All of us out here breathing it in. Different school, same story. All five schools opened as normal this morning. Nobody pulled them out. Nobody called the school cuz nobody knew. They're outside breathing this air right now.
36 hours from now, every single person in the city is going to be told to pack a bag and leave. Three days, they'll be told. They never came back. And right now he's just reading his paper on a Saturday morning.
Quickly, if you're one of the 90% that haven't subscribed yet, please do. Guys, I'm literally putting my life on the line every single one of these videos. The radiation readings coming off some of these workers were so high, the Soviets had a very simple solution. Take the dometers away. No device, no reading, no reading, no problem. Genius.
By this point, the KGB are already involved. Phone lines in and out of here have been restricted. Foreign radio signals are being jammed. The Soviet machine is doing what it does best, >> controlling the story.
"Explosion last night. What happened?"
"Small accident at the plant. Nothing to worry about. Go back to your day."
Of course they believe him. He's an official, authoritative, calm. That's how cover-ups work. Not with conspiracies. Just a confident man in a suit telling people not to worry.
"Excuse me. I I don't want to alarm you, but maybe keep your kids inside today."
"Inside? Why? The official just said everything is fine."
"Just inside. Trust me." I couldn't help myself. I'm powerless anyway. That fire is going to burn for 10 days. They'll drop 5,000 tons of sand and lead onto the open reactor, which won't do much. I'm starting to get a headache now. And that counter is still climbing.
36 hours later, and they're finally telling people to leave. >> Back for 3 days only. >> The radiation levels got so high they couldn't hide it anymore. He said 3 days, but 50,000 people are never coming back. I'm going to try and get out of here, too. That ferris wheel is going to be standing motionless for the next 40 years. It never even opened.
"All right, tourism's over. I got to hop on to one of these buses before they all leave. Let's hope there's room for 50,000 in1." Okay, the counter is going crazy right now. Every single person on this bus is being exposed, and they don't even know it. Except the guards, it seems. I really need to get out of here. I've been here less than two days. These people have lived here their whole lives, and they're leaving with one bag and a lifetime dose of radiation poisoning, never to return.
350,000 people were permanently displaced from towns and villages across the entire region. In the days after, a 30 km exclusion zone was established around the plant, which still exists to this day. Nobody lives there. Nobody can. The official death toll from the explosion was 31, but long-term radiation related cancers and health effects pushed that number into the thousands, some estimates much higher. 134 workers and firefighters were diagnosed with acute radiation syndrome. They just did their jobs not knowing it would kill them.
In the months and years that followed, around 600,000 people were drafted in to clean up the disaster. They were called liquidators. Miners, soldiers, firefighters, engineers. Many were given minimal protection. Many of them are sick to this day.
I've been to a lot of places in history, but coming back here 40 years later, this is something else. Gone, but not forgotten. If you made it this far, thank you for coming on this journey with me. It's been a lot. Don't forget to subscribe and let me know where I should go next. See you.
"Excuse me, your arm. Are you all right? You didn't actually think I'd make it out safe, did"