IN MEMORIAM

On June 5, 1996, Ann Hopkins ended a life of pain and redemption, the victim of
childhood radiation exposure.  She grew up on the edge of the Hanford Nuclear facility
in Washington State, where her father worked as an engineer.   By accident or
paternal design, perhaps because of her tomboyish wanderings at the Hanford site,
she touched radioactive material and then her face.  As an adult her face was eaten
by cancer.  The National Institutes of Health (NIH) performed radical surgery,
removing one eye and her nose, covering the scraped-out cavity with a large flap of
skin from her belly.  Her dainty body and excellent mind recovered, and her
indomitable spirit, which worked through grief, anger, acceptance, forgiveness, and,
finally, peace.

For the last several years of her life, Ann tried to resume a normal life.  When she
walked the streets, sat on the bus or subway, ate in restaurants, she was gawked at,
or confronted with questions.  Once the manager of her favorite Mexican restaurant
asked her to go away, she was frightening the patrons.  (This broke her heart.)  She
answered every stranger's question about her appearance with amazing patience. 
She became a fervent anti-nuclear activist.  She volunteered, until her health was too
poor, at the antinuclear vigil in front of the White House, and helped to put DC's
Initiative 37 (the Nuclear Disarmament and Economic Conversion Act) on the ballot
and through a successful election.  

Ann was known for her kindness to misfits and outcasts.  Her son called her the
"quintessential hippie."  She took several people into her home in Southwest
Washington, DC during the last years of her life.  

In 1992, Ann's suffering seemed to have acquired a purpose.  Energy Secretary Hazel
O'Leary opened up the government's files on victims of radiation experiments.  Ann
attended meetings with other radiation survivors, and was guest speaker at a number
of community events.  

She is survived by her granddaughter, two sons and daughter.

A loving memorial service was held at the National Arboretum on Thursday, June 13.


Ann Hopkins
indomitable hippie mom,
forgiving daughter, 
hopeful, passionate, kind,
we miss you.

Peace Park vigilers