American Prometheus

by Kai Bird

In the spring of 1944, he wrote to a family of German refugees whose escape from Europe he had facilitated. They were utter strangers, but in 1940 he had given the Meyers family—a mother and four daughters—a sum of money to pay their expenses to the United States. Four years later, the Meyers repaid Oppenheimer and proudly informed him that they had become American citizens. He wrote back that he understood the “pride” they felt, and he thanked them for the money: “I hope it has not been a hardship for you. . . .” He then offered to return the money if they had any further need for it. (Years later, one of the Meyers daughters wrote in gratitude: “[I]n 1940 you brought us all over and we could save our lives.”) For Oppenheimer, the rescue of the Meyerses from the Nazi contagion was important in several respects. It was in the first instance a politically noncontroversial extension of his antifascist activism—and that felt good. Secondly, while a small act of generosity, it was nevertheless a profound and welcome reminder of why he was racing to build a horrific weapon.