Place  /  Retrieval

The Town That Kept Its Nuclear Bunker a Secret for Three Decades

The people of White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia, helped keep the Greenbrier resort's bunker—designed to hold the entirety of Congress—hidden for 30 years.

West Virginia’s opulent Greenbrier resort has been a playground for princes and politicians since its opening in 1778. Nestled in the Allegheny Mountain town of White Sulphur Springs, the Greenbrier has expanded over the centuries, growing from a series of summer cottages to a palatial hotel surrounded by gardens and golf courses. So, when the resort broke ground on a new wing in late 1958, no one was surprised.

But observant locals soon noticed something odd about the project. The hole dug for the foundation was enormous, and vast amounts of concrete arrived every day on trucks, along with puzzling items: 110 urinals, huge steel doors. Guards were stationed outside.

Within weeks of the groundbreaking, it was clear to many that the new West Virginia Wing held far more than just guest rooms and conference facilities. But locals kept their suspicions private.

“Everyone just agreed to be in on the secret,” says Ann Tate Bell, who grew up nearby.

Thanks to this discretion, nearly 35 years passed before the rest of the country learned the truth: The Greenbrier’s West Virginia Wing sat atop a nuclear bunker buried 720 feet underground. Inside, behind a 25-ton blast door, stood a living and working space equipped to hold every single member of the United States Congress. The hideout boasted more than 1,000 bunk beds, a 400-seat cafeteria, individual auditoriums for both the Senate and the House of Representatives, vast water tanks, and a trash incinerator that could serve as a crematorium.

Government officials chose the resort as the bunker site because of its isolated location, long relationship with the nation’s political elite and proximity to Washington, D.C. (about a four-hour drive away). The Greenbrier was, in the words of the Washington Post, “the ultimate congressional hideaway.”

Trish Parker, a lifelong resident of western Greenbrier County, says the bunker was the definition of an open secret. “People wondered about it to their husband, their wife, their brother—but they weren’t going to wonder about it to anyone else,” she says. “They just didn’t talk about it to outsiders.”