The headlines read: “‘Boss’ Lady at the Cyclotron,” “Girl Atom-Splitter” and “She Runs a Cyclotron, Loves Each Atom of It.” It was 1952 and Miriam Levin was working at the cyclotron down in the basement of Pupin Labs. As chief cyclotron operator (1946-1956), Levin set up experiments for the Atomic Energy Commission, assisted graduated students in their research, made repairs on the equipment, and managed media inquiries with much grace. Records of her press coverage can be found in the biographical files of the Office of Public Affairs records.

We recently processed over 1,400 biographical files as part of an addition to the Office of Public Affairs (OPA) records. These files were used by the OPA to create “biographies” for press releases, hiring announcements, alumni magazine articles, and obituaries, from the 1930s to the early 2000s. Because these were the working files of the office, the contents in each file vary widely: from full research notes, drafts of press releases, extensive newspaper clippings, CVs, and some photographs, to a single sheet printed from LexisNexis. It is here that we found Miriam Levin Melkonian, who was the chief operator of the Pupin cyclotron from 1946 to 1956.

According to the draft of the 1952 press release, Miriam Levin graduated from Hunter College in 1943 with a degree in Music. After graduation, she wanted to do “something important in the war effort.” She went to work as a civilian research assistant for the U.S. Army Signal Corps at Port Monmouth, New Jersey. It was there that she heard the rumors about the secret research being conducted at Columbia. One day, on her way home from work, she stopped by campus, went to the personnel office and asked about joining the research lab. Levin was then hired by Leo James Rainwater as part of the Manhattan District contract, now better known as the Manhattan Project.

In the newspaper articles, Levin manages to explain the general workings of the cyclotron and the safety precautions in place, such as the radiation exposure badge she would wear. She had to endure all sorts of unfortunate comments, from her coworkers (and later, from the press). The soldiers working in the lab thought it was “cute” to see a girl at the controls. But, she claimed, that only motivated her “to beat them at their own game.” Not only did she manage to get the equipment to run smoothly, but she also devised a simpler (and finer) tungsten filament, which increased the cyclotron’s intensity threefold. Her innovation, known as the hairpin filament, was first adopted at the Nevis Cyclotron and later worldwide. While Levin assisted researchers, the lab also produced radioactive isotopes used in medicine. She considered this part of her work as “routine” until she received a letter from a patient who had been saved by such a treatment. Receiving that letter, she said, “was one of the biggest thrills of my life.”

Miriam Levin Melkonian was not the only woman working at the Pupin cyclotron. The 1940s cyclotron budgets in the Department of Physics records give us the names of research assistants and scientific staff members working under Prof. John Dunning, such as C.S. (Chien-Shiung) Wu, Charlotte Meaker, Barbara Hewitt, and Nettie E. Derner. There are certainly more stories there to be rediscovered.

The Pupin cyclotron was decommissioned in 1965 and parts of the machine were dismantled and sent to the Smithsonian. The last pieces of the equipment, the magnets, were removed in 2008.