Richard Turco

Although at first glance they may seem strange, the poster-size photographs of nuclear explosions on the living room wall in Richard Turco's Pacific Palisades home are not really inappropriate. After all, as a research scientist at R & D Associates--a Marina del Rey-based think tank with numerous Defense Department contracts--Turco has studied nuclear weapons and their effects for much of the last 15 years. Yet a closer look at the photos reveals something more.

While some officials in the Reagan Administration predicted that Americans could survive a nuclear war "with enough shovels" to dig for cover, the picture presented by many working scientists is far darker. In this provocative study of the dangers of nuclear proliferation, astrophysicists Carl Sagan and Richard Turco argue that smoke clouds will occlude the sun's warming effects after a full-scale nuclear war, bringing the bone-wracking chill and darkness of an arctic winter.

As an atmospheric scientist involved in planning the controlled Lodi Canyon burn in the Angeles National Forest this fall, I was appalled to read the misinformed and sensational letter of Victor Veysey (Sept. 17). I hope my reply will correct any damage it may have caused, by explaining more clearly the purpose and scope of the experiment. The concerns of Veysey, and perhaps other Times readers, over the controlled chaparral burn planned for the Angeles National Forest this fall are unfounded.

Self-made billionaire John D. MacArthur left an unusual last testament: His fortune was to be given away however the executors saw fit. During his lifetime, the shirt-sleeves individualist ran his insurance empire from a table in a Florida coffee shop and had neither the time nor the inclination to become a munificent donor. "I'm going to do what I do best; I'm going to make the money," he told his lawyer, William Kirby. "When I die, you fellows give it away."

Self-made billionaire John D. MacArthur left an unusual last testament: His fortune was to be given away however the executors saw fit. During his lifetime, the shirt-sleeves individualist ran his insurance empire from a table in a Florida coffee shop and had neither the time nor the inclination to become a munificent donor. "I'm going to do what I do best; I'm going to make the money," he told his lawyer, William Kirby. "When I die, you fellows give it away."

While some officials in the Reagan Administration predicted that Americans could survive a nuclear war "with enough shovels" to dig for cover, the picture presented by many working scientists is far darker. In this provocative study of the dangers of nuclear proliferation, astrophysicists Carl Sagan and Richard Turco argue that smoke clouds will occlude the sun's warming effects after a full-scale nuclear war, bringing the bone-wracking chill and darkness of an arctic winter.

Forestry officials gathered Friday to set 2 1/2 square miles of dead fir trees on fire as part of an experiment to help U.S. and Canadian scientists test the theory of a "nuclear winter." "It will embody some of the characteristics of the firestorm that will follow a nuclear blast," said Andrew Forester, who brought the researchers together. The experiment, which begins today, was timed to coincide with the 40th anniversary Aug.

Even a small nuclear conflict could have catastrophic environmental and societal consequences, extending the death toll far beyond the number of people killed directly by bombs, according to the first comprehensive climatic analysis of a regional nuclear war.

Controlled fires in the Angeles National Forest, 35 miles northeast of Los Angeles, are nothing out of the ordinary, but one such "prescribed fire," scheduled for autumn, will be closely monitored by both the U.S. Forest Service and Defense Department. While the Forest Service will survey the intentional blaze to find out more about smoke and gas emissions, the Defense Department will be studying possible effects of the "nuclear winter" phenomenon, officials said Thursday.

Scientists who have been looking for a way to reverse the damage humans have unleashed upon the Earth's atmosphere offered a disconcerting opinion Monday: There probably is no solution other than to mend our ways and hope the planet heals itself.

Although at first glance they may seem strange, the poster-size photographs of nuclear explosions on the living room wall in Richard Turco's Pacific Palisades home are not really inappropriate. After all, as a research scientist at R & D Associates--a Marina del Rey-based think tank with numerous Defense Department contracts--Turco has studied nuclear weapons and their effects for much of the last 15 years. Yet a closer look at the photos reveals something more.

As an atmospheric scientist involved in planning the controlled Lodi Canyon burn in the Angeles National Forest this fall, I was appalled to read the misinformed and sensational letter of Victor Veysey (Sept. 17). I hope my reply will correct any damage it may have caused, by explaining more clearly the purpose and scope of the experiment. The concerns of Veysey, and perhaps other Times readers, over the controlled chaparral burn planned for the Angeles National Forest this fall are unfounded.

After months of delays caused by bureaucratic bickering, bad weather and a helicopter crash, scientists Friday finally set more than 500 acres of brush ablaze in the mountains north of Los Angeles and unlimbered an unprecedented array of instruments to collect data from the resulting plume of brown smoke.

Let's return again in memory to Haworth, that isolated parsonage on the edge of the moors where the Bronte sisters lived their short and troubled lives. It's the 1840s; the weather is always bad. The father, Patrick, stays in his study most of the time, taking his meals alone. His wife is dead, and has been for a long time. Two of the older Bronte sisters are already in their graves. Four children grow up in this bleak place, subsisting on depression, tantrums and thin gruel.