Baylor University Medical Center Proceedings October 2017 - 482

every brushing), and even radium-laced face creams, soaps, and
compact powders. There was the "Radium Eclipse Sprayer" that
"quickly kills all ﬂies, mosquitos, roaches" and "has no equal
as a cleaner of furniture, porcelain, and tile. It is harmless to
humans and easy to use."
Although the company specialized in watch faces, it also had
a lucrative government contract to supply luminous airplane
instruments. The company also used its paint to make gun sights
and ship compasses, so they could shine brightly in the dark.
The girls used slim camel hair brushes with narrow wooden
handles. Each brush had approximately 30 hairs. Though the
brushes were ﬁne, the bristles had a tendency to spread, hampering the girls' work. The smallest pocket watch they painted
measured only 3.5 cm across its face, meaning the tiniest element for painting was a single millimeter in width. The girls
could not go over the edges of these delicate parameters or they
faced trouble. They had to make the brushes even ﬁner, and
there was only one way to do that: the girls put the brushes
in their mouths. This technique, called "lip-pointing," had
come from China-painting factories. Unbeknownst to the
girls, it wasn't the way the dial painting was done in Europe
where dial paint had been used for over a decade. Diﬀerent
countries had different techniques. But in none was lippointing used, probably because brushes weren't used either: in
Switzerland, there were solid glass rods; in France, small sticks
with cotton wadding on the ends; and elsewhere in Europe, a
sharpened wooden stylus or metal needles. Since radium was
considered the wonder drug, the girls thought the lip-painting
would beneﬁt them. They got so used to the brushes in their
mouth that they didn't think about it.
The dial painters were paid well. Their pay was based on the
number of dials they painted at an average rate of 1.5¢ a watch.
The fastest workers could receive an astonishing paycheck. Some
earned >3 times the salary of the average factory-ﬂoor worker.
Some earned more than their fathers. They were ranked in the
top 5% of female wage earners and on average took home $20
($370) a week. Girls lucky enough to be employed felt blessed-
proud to be one of the "shining girls."
When the US entered World War I in 1917, the demand for
luminous dial watches skyrocketed. The company built a plant
down the road from Newark in Orange, New Jersey, closing
the Newark plant. The company decided to do its own radium
extraction, thus needing labs and processing plants. The RLMC
expanded massively. The new site comprised several buildings,
all located in the middle of a residential neighborhood. The new
plant started operating 7 days a week, 24 hours a day. Perhaps
70 women had worked in the Newark studio; during the war
that number tripled. Dial-painting girls rarely saw the men who
worked in the laboratories or reﬁning rooms except at the company picnics, which were fairly frequent. Just a few miles from
the Orange plant site was Thomas Edison, who interestingly
remarked, "There may be a condition into which radium has
not entered that would produce dire results; everybody handling
it should have a care." Yet in the second-ﬂoor studio, the girls
working there had not a care in the world. Here there were no
lead aprons, no ivory-tipped forceps, no medical experts. The
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amount of radium in the paint was considered so small that
such measures were not deemed necessary. In contrast, the lab
workers in the Orange plant (all men) were provided protective
equipment: lead-lined aprons and ivory forceps (for handling
tubes of radium). In January 1921, von Sochocky, the company
founder, would write that "one could handle radium only by
taking the greatest precautions."
At the height of operations in World War I, as many as
375 girls painted dials. In an attempt to save as much radium
powder as possible, the girls were required before leaving for
home to enter the darkroom to be brushed oﬀ; the "sparkling
particles" were then swept from the ﬂoor into the dustpan to be
used the next day. But no amount of brushing could get rid of
all the dust. The girls were covered with it: their "hands, arms,
necks, dresses, underclothes, even their corsets were luminous."
The clothing would shine in the dark as the girls went home
glowing like ghosts.
The frequency of the lip-painting varied among the girls.
Some would lip-paint on every numeral, sometimes even 2 or 3
times per number. Others did it only once for 2 or 3 numerals
before the brush would dry. The girls weren't entirely clear what
was in the paint, although they did ask their managers. George
Willis, cofounder, lectured the girls on radium and convinced
them it was not dangerous; von Sochocky also told the girls that
there was nothing hazardous in the paint. The radium was used
in such a minuscule amount that it could not cause them harm.
In 1918, an estimated 95% of all the radium produced in
the USA was given over to the manufacture of radium paint
for use on military dials. At the end of that year, one in six
American soldiers owned a luminous watch, and it was one of
the Orange girls who painted it. The company executives rarely
went into the studio where the girls painted the dials. On a rare
visit, as von Sochocky watched the girls lipping and dipping
their brushes, he declared, "Do not do that!" He repeated to
another girl: "Do not do that. You will get sick." The girls soon
went back to lip, dip, paint.
World War I ended on October 11, 1918. A total of 116,000
American soldiers had lost their lives, and the total death toll
for all sides was about 17 million. Despite the ending of the
war, the demand for luminous watches did not slow. In 1919,
the company produced 2.2 million luminous watches. In 1920,
the local residents around the Orange plant started to complain that factory fumes discolored their laundry and aﬀected
their health. One oﬃcial took the unusual step of appeasing
a resident: he gave a neighbor $5 ($68 today) compensation
for her damaged washing. When all the other neighbors began
requesting money, the company refused. A local newspaper
article in 1920 stated that the company had oﬄoaded some
of its industrial waste by selling it to schools and playgrounds
to use in their sandboxes; kids' shoes turned white because of
it. One child complained to his mother of a burning sensation
in his hands. Yet, von Sochocky pronounced the sand "most
hygienic" for children to play in.
In 1921, Sabin von Sochocky and George Willis were ousted
in a corporate takeover. The new company was named United
States Radium Corporation (USRC).

Baylor University Medical Center Proceedings

Volume 30, Number 4

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