In Las Vegas, the mystery of “Miss Atomic Bomb” has finally been resolved. For over twenty years, historian and retired scientist Robert Friedrichs endeavored to uncover the true identity of the woman behind the popular image captured during the atomic era. Guided only by a stage name from an old newspaper photo, Friedrichs embarked on a mission to solve this historical enigma that had fascinated him for decades.
Though not a detective, Friedrichs was singularly dedicated to the pursuit. His journey began around the year 2000, as he prepared for the opening of the Atomic Museum in Las Vegas. His initial hope was to find Miss Atomic Bomb alive and invite her to the museum’s grand opening. The iconic photo of her wearing a swimsuit resembling a mushroom cloud, taken to promote nuclear tourism in the 1950s, had since become emblematic of Las Vegas’s larger-than-life allure. Yet the identity of the woman smiling at the center of it remained elusive.
The task involved sifting through numerous archives and following countless leads. Friedrichs spent considerable time speaking with Las Vegas showgirls and even traced the photographer responsible for the famous image. Yet, despite confirming her stage name, her true identity remained hidden for years. Undeterred, Friedrichs became engrossed in the project, dedicating every spare moment to unraveling the truth.
At long last, a breakthrough came after a lecture he gave at the Atomic Museum. An audience member shared an obituary that connected Friedrichs to the real “Miss Atomic Bomb”: Anna Lee Mahoney. Born in the Bronx on August 14, 1927, Mahoney had pursued a career in ballet before gracing the stage as Lee A. Merlin, the lead dancer at the Sands Hotel. Her career intersected with prestigious circles, performing for celebrities such as Frank Sinatra and Louis Armstrong.
When Mahoney retired from dancing, she carved out a new path as a mental health counselor, eventually moving to Hawaii and living a full life until her passing in 2001 due to cancer. The revelation of her identity finalized a chapter that had drawn public intrigue and inspired countless homages, including Halloween costumes and even appearances in pop culture.
The culmination of Friedrichs’s quest led to a temporary exhibit at the Atomic Museum, highlighting not only Mahoney’s legacy but also Friedrichs’s exhaustive pursuit. This exhibit acknowledges both Mahoney’s impact on cultural history and the historian’s perseverance in piecing together the past. The photographer, Don English, who befriended Friedrichs during the investigation, unfortunately passed away in 2006 before hearing the conclusion, but his daughter was thrilled to learn of Friedrichs’s success.
Throughout the years, increasingly personal connections formed around the shared stories of showgirls and the cultural backdrop of vintage Las Vegas. These discussions reignited memories of an era when glamor and spectacle enfolded everyday life, yet sometimes failed to preserve the names behind the faces. However, private investigators and Friedrichs himself finally connected the dots, identifying Mahoney by her Social Security number and linking her to each of her identities.
Friedrichs reflects on his achievement with emotion, noting how this resolution fills an essential gap in the historical narrative. He likened his research endeavor to identifying the first U.S. President without knowing his name, emphasizing the significance of attaching a real-life identity to an iconic image. It was not merely intellectual curiosity that drove him, but a deep-seated desire to complete the historical record and give “Miss Atomic Bomb” her rightful place in history.