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  <updated>2013-05-24T09:00:36-04:00</updated>
  <author>
    <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
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<entry>
    <title>T-1 Day Until Yuri's Night 2013!</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/t-1-day-until-yuris-night_b_3065881.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.3065881</id>
    <published>2013-04-11T22:12:47-04:00</published>
    <updated>2013-04-11T22:12:49-04:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[It's that time of year again--a time of year space fans love! Those of you who saw my posts last year will remember that April 12th...]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[It's that time of year again--a time of year space fans love! Those of you who saw <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/yuris-night-in-boston_b_1443995.html" target="_hplink">my posts</a> <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/happy-aerospace-holidays-_b_1409477.html" target="_hplink">last year</a> will remember that April 12th is <a href="http://yurisnight.net/#/starter" target="_hplink">Yuri's Night</a>, the anniversary of the day (April 12, 1961) that cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin became the first human to fly into outer space. <br />
<br />
Twenty years later, purely by chance, April 12th was also the day that John Young and Robert Crippen launched aboard the Space Shuttle <em>Columbia</em> on the first flight of the space shuttle. (They were originally supposed to launch two days earlier, but there had been a computer glitch and they had to delay.) Twenty years after THAT, in April 2001, space enthusiasts decided that April 12th was the perfect day to throw a party celebrating space exploration, and in the years since, it's grown by leaps and bounds. Last year, there were parties on every continent (yes, even Antarctica), on the Internet, and in orbit aboard the International Space Station.<br />
<br />
I first heard about Yuri's Night back in 2008, but it wasn't until last year that I was able to celebrate with more than one other person. (Not that there's anything wrong about celebrating with just your closest friends.) Last year, the 12th fell on a Thursday, which wasn't very convenient, but I went to a party at Harvard the weekend before and saw a planetarium show at the Museum of Science with my friends at Boston University SEDS (Students for the Exploration and Development of Space) the day after--making it a very lucky Friday the 13th indeed! (I wrote about all the fun I had here.)<br />
<br />
This year, I'm planning to do the same--visit the Harvard Science Center for their party and hang out with my friends--but I've stepped up my costuming game since last year. Over Spring Break, my brother Peter and I built a foamboard shell that fits over a small leather backpack I own and makes it look like a jetpack! (Apparently it really looks like one, because my friends keep asking me if it can fly, even after I've told them that the wings are foamboard and the "jets" are sections of soda bottles held together by hot glue...) <br />
<br />
You don't have to put that much work into creating an outfit for Yuri's Night (unless you want to), but it is a good idea to make an effort to wear something space-themed on the 12th. Even if you're too busy to go to a party or host your own, you can still show your love of space with an appropriate tie, t-shirt, jacket or pin. You might even get your coworkers or friends to ask about it, giving you an opportunity to educate them! <br />
<br />
But since the 12th is a Friday this year, you hopefully WILL be able to take time out to celebrate space exploration, so if you don't already have plans, check out the official party list to see if there are any parties near you. So far, there are parties registered in Australia and Austria , Canada and Colombia-- everywhere from up on the roof of the world to down in the Caribbean! But if you don't see any in your area, you can try hosting your own. (I will admit that as an introvert that prospect seems daunting, but my friends who have done so assure me it's quite easy, and the official Yuri's Night website has some advice on how to go about it.)<br />
<br />
But however you chose to party, it won't BE a party unless you have music to sing and dance to. Luckily, there are a lot of great space songs to choose from, and I listed some in my post last year. I've added a few more this year after suggestions from readers and friends, as well as some other songs I've just stumbled across. So here's some suggestions to help you really put your 2013 Yuri's Night celebration in orbit! <br />
<br />
ABBA- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=509nNNOJXB0" target="_hplink">What About Livingstone?</a>. <em>Every space fan has at some point been asked "What's that good for, anyway?" This song describes one possible response.</em><br />
<br />
Air Traffic-- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mqh2XVmOaWY" target="_hplink">Shooting Star</a>. <em>"I'm fed up in here/ in my atmosphere/Don't you know who you are?/You're my shooting star" </em><br />
<br />
Angels and Airwaves--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKcp9UlbUDA" target="_hplink">Love Like Rockets</a>. <em>A love song from the perspective of an astronaut, this song always reminds me of James Lovell, commander of <strong>Apollo 13</strong>, and his wife Marilyn.</em><br />
<br />
Ash-- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8hJXLW6kKk" target="_hplink">Girl From Mars</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZGcNx8nV8U" target="_hplink">Shining Light</a>. <em>Will you celebrate Yuri's Night by looking to the stars and remembering the girl from Mars, or by setting off some Roman candles in the night as a shining light?</em><br />
<br />
Barenaked Ladies and Chris Hadfield--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AvAnfi8WpVE" target="_hplink">ISS (Is Somebody Singing)</a>. <em>Space Station Commander Chris Hadfield performed this song live from space with a children's chorus and the famous Canadian band Barenaked Ladies... and then I got it stuck in my head for the next few days, because it's just that good!</em><br />
<br />
The Beatles--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rj-4t9drUlM" target="_hplink">Across the Universe</a>. <em>I don't think this requires any explanation.</em><br />
<br />
Kyle Breese and Joey Beesley--<a href="http://kylebreese.bandcamp.com/track/16-minutes-from-home" target="_hplink">Sixteen Minutes From Home</a>. <em>Even though it's by another band, we might call this a sequel to Stephen Kay's "The Challenger" (see below)--a tribute full of the energy and excitement that drove the people it's about.</em><br />
<br />
Black Sabbath--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W69DwrXkjgw" target="_hplink">Into the Void</a>. <em>Suggested during the SEDS Yuri's Night videochat. "Rocket engines burning fuel so fast /Up into the night sky they blast/Through the universe the engines whine..."</em><br />
<br />
David Bowie--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uhSYbRiYwTY" target="_hplink">Space Oddity</a>, and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=muMcWMKPEWQ" target="_hplink">Starman</a>. <em>Two of those "obligatory" songs that no space playlist is complete without.</em><br />
<br />
Coldplay--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TahH7B_aUZc" target="_hplink">Speed of Sound</a>. <em>Speaking of songs that remind me of people from space history, this is the one I associate with <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/long-lonely-liminal_b_2260178.html" target="_hplink">Joseph Kittinger</a>. (If I could video-edit, I'd make an Excelsior-Stratos fanvid for it, but I can't, so I won't.) </em><br />
<br />
Daft Punk--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9MszVE7aR4" target="_hplink">Around the World</a>. <em>Suggestion from the Yuri's Night Facebook page. It's quite catchy!</em><br />
<br />
John Denver--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RtU1vOMEFY4" target="_hplink">Looking for Space</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyFcgYn4Lxw" target="_hplink">Flying for Me</a>. <em>Sad but good, especially together.</em><br />
<br />
Diana Degarmo--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=au_ZAMTCju4" target="_hplink">Reaching for Heaven</a>. <em>"This is how it feels, reaching for heaven! This is how it feels, kissing the sky!"</em><br />
<br />
Duran Duran-- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NF6Qa84mno" target="_hplink">Planet Earth</a>. <em>Looking for signs of life on Planet Earth...</em><br />
<br />
Engima--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSdw8kYxnks" target="_hplink">Goodbye Milky Way</a>. <em>"Shall I go? Shall I stay? 107 light-years away..." </em><br />
<br />
Europe--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jK-NcRmVcw&amp;ob=av3e" target="_hplink">The Final Countdown</a>. <em>Okay, the astronomy's a little questionable (Venus isn't "light-years" away), but it would be crazy not to include this song.</em><br />
<br />
Leslie Fish--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXteSV8rBwY" target="_hplink">Hope Eyrie</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4c_85YV8Ans" target="_hplink">Surprise!</a>. <em>A beautiful, serious song about the moon landings, and a funny, less-serious song about the Soviet side of the Space Race. </em><br />
<br />
Florence and the Machine--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2EIeUlvHAiM" target="_hplink">Cosmic Love</a>. <em>If I ever get to be in a movie with Dramatic Action Scenes, I want this to be playing over them. That is all.</em><br />
<br />
Bob Geldorf--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f8I5kOtbMbg" target="_hplink">Thinking Voyager 2 Type Things</a>. <em>An enthusiastic meditation on the perspective on life that thinking about the exploration of the solar system inspires within us, part song and part spoken-word poetry.  </em><br />
<br />
Hum--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qvq4LdngkD4" target="_hplink">Stars</a>. <em>Suggested during the SEDS Yuri's Night videochat. "She thinks she's missed the train to Mars/She's out back counting stars..."</em><br />
<br />
Gregory and the Hawk--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pz5H3iVjAlw" target="_hplink">Boats and Birds</a>. <em>A beautiful song about love and traveling, kind of a lullaby. "Just leave me your stardust to remember you by."</em><br />
<br />
Indigo Girls--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4RiU2T4Psyc" target="_hplink">Galileo</a>. <em>Galileo didn't invent the telescope, but he was one of the first astronomers to use one to observe the night sky. What this "king of night vision, king of insight" discovered changed our understanding of the universe forever.</em><br />
<br />
Inspiral Carpets--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03cy86u6Wi4" target="_hplink">Saturn V</a>. <em>The Saturn V rockets took the Apollo astronauts to the moon, and the rockets themselves were taller than the Statue of Liberty. Small wonder that the singer thinks they "really were the greatest sight".</em><br />
<br />
Elton John--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GAKOLOnfV4" target="_hplink">Rocket Man</a>. <em>You really didn't think I'd leave this one out, did you?</em><br />
<br />
Kansas--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yjc1LU5Qjds" target="_hplink">Icarus (Born on Wings of Steel)</a>. <em>The world's first aerospace engineer was the mythological Daedalus, who, according to ancient Greek legend, built wings of wax and feathers to escape the palace of the wicked King Minos along with his son Icarus. Daedalus warned his son not to fly too high, but Icarus was caught up in the joy of flying and soared too close to the sun, with tragic results. This modern song about that ancient myth captures Icarus's thoughts.</em><br />
<br />
Jordin Kare and Krisoph Klover--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ryd_p20XEU" target="_hplink">Fire in the Sky</a>. <em>The "We Didn't Start the Fire" of space songs, this song describes the history of human spaceflight from Yuri Gagarin to the space shuttle.</em><br />
<br />
Stephen Kay -- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nK0QE68_Dds" target="_hplink">The <em>Challenger</em></a>. <em>An awesome song in and of itself, with an incredible backstory.</em><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O2lO4QNMrDY" target="_hplink">Korobeiniki (AKA "The Tetris Theme")</a>--<em>While it's not specifically space-themed, Yuri's Night Social Media Director Rick Hanton suggested this famous Russian song for Yuri's Night in honor of Yuri Gagarin's homeland.</em><br />
<br />
The Long Winters--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8AisTXgAGA" target="_hplink">The Commander Thinks Aloud</a>. <em>A bit sad for a party, but a great tribute to the <strong>Columbia</strong> astronauts.</em><br />
<br />
Mando Diao-- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmOIXdOr4Qk" target="_hplink">Mr. Moon</a>. <em>"I've never been so sure I've never doubted you, Mr. Moon."</em><br />
<br />
John Marmie--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEG378u5-jw" target="_hplink">Water on the Moon</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFlrAKd-jNA&amp;list=UUM5rPWidx-EdPlpL8uQN_0g&amp;index=6&amp;feature=plcp" target="_hplink">Apophis</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWTo_V4ay3o&amp;list=UUM5rPWidx-EdPlpL8uQN_0g&amp;index=2&amp;feature=plcp" target="_hplink">Kepler</a>. <em>Who's more qualified to sing about the solar system than a NASA scientist and part-time songwriter? Also, I recommend looking up his songs "LADEE" and "IRIS", which don't have music videos yet.</em><br />
<br />
The Moody Blues--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Oyhf7CLoIw" target="_hplink">Higher and Higher</a>. <em>"Climbing to Tranquility, finding its full worth, conceiving the heavens flourishing on Earth!"</em><br />
<br />
Muse-- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zSket6K9PM" target="_hplink">Starlight</a>. <em>"I will be chasing the starlight/ Until the end of my life..."</em><br />
<br />
Mya- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZad3r63wAI" target="_hplink">Where the Dream Takes You</a>. <em>A lot of early pioneers of spaceflight like Robert Goddard were laughed at for talking about flying to the moon seriously in a time when it was only science fiction. But they kept on, and proved the world wrong.</em><br />
<br />
Nichole Nordeman--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HL-M5WbnwWY&amp;list=UUcAhLDVMxUpj_eoJBbwFgcA&amp;index=32&amp;feature=plcp" target="_hplink">Brave</a>. <em>Very descriptive of my feelings towards the NewSpace industry--"So long, status quo, I think I'll just let go--you make me wanna be brave!"</em><br />
<br />
Owl City--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AaImtAdoicU" target="_hplink">Galaxies</a>, A<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eN5jTL_gvaQ" target="_hplink">lligator Sky</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tr8lY2G5wns&amp;feature=plcp&amp;context=C4cffd43VDvjVQa1PpcFM2DxYrRF9khMxndizzzZsBjDqP01Omqg4=" target="_hplink">To the Sky</a>. <em>A lot of this artist's songs feature space themes, but these are the ones to which space or flight is most central--and they're very catchy, too!</em><br />
<br />
The Police--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1YK2a-B9zk" target="_hplink">Walking on the Moon</a>. <em>"Giant steps are what you take, walking on the moon..."</em><br />
<br />
John Parr-- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wI-EDF9PtRY" target="_hplink">Man in Motion (St. Elmo's Fire)</a>. <em>St. Elmo's Fire is an electrical effect that sometimes occurs on the masts of ships during storms. In the olden days, sailors regarded seeing it on as a good omen for their voyage. On a trip "up where the eagle's flying" or even higher, a little luck is quite welcome.</em><br />
<br />
Private Numbers--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5H9JZF1vjxA&amp;feature=youtu.be&amp;t=7m7s" target="_hplink">Space is Our World</a>. <em>A variation on this band's previous song "Is This My World?", which already featured some Space Race imagery in its music video about a 1960s childhood, this song was written to be played for the crew of the Space Shuttle <strong>Discovery</strong> in 1990 on the day they deployed the Hubble Space Telescope.</em><br />
<br />
Queen--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IFUjwj_RB5o" target="_hplink">Don't Stop Me Now</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9kCCLwEga8" target="_hplink">Flash Gordon</a>. <em>Are you a "supersonic man" or the "savior of the universe"? Who says you can't be both!</em><br />
<br />
Rush--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjWveNaCwWg" target="_hplink">Countdown</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zm2pKb3idYs" target="_hplink">Mission</a>. <em>Before we went to see the STS-133 launch, I played Countdown for my father to give him a description of what it would be like. The band actually was present at the first launch of the space shuttle, and this song includes snippets from the mission audio. I think Mission really describes my experience as a space fan, learning about "spirits who fly on dangerous missions" and being in awe of what they've done.</em><br />
<br />
Savage Garden--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCm6gRHINqA" target="_hplink">To the Moon and Back</a>. <em>I didn't recognize the song title when it was suggested, but now I realize I first heard it in a Space Camp video! "Somewhere in a private place, she backs her bags for outer space, and she's looking for the right kind of pilot..."</em><br />
<br />
Shiny Toy Guns--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KyFe5m2MU9Q" target="_hplink">Major Tom</a>. <em>Inspired by David Bowie's "Space Oddity" (see above) and great in its own right.</em><br />
<br />
Carly Simon--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xe5ltsXX4Pc&amp;ob=av2e" target="_hplink">Touched By The Sun</a>. <em>I discovered this song through the documentary <strong>Christa McAuliffe: Reach for the Stars</strong>. "If you wanna be brave, and reach for the top of the sky..."</em><br />
<br />
Frank Sinatra--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtFBRJFN3p8" target="_hplink">Fly Me to the Moon</a>. Astronaut Ron Garan suggested this song on his Twitter after reading last year's list. There's quite a few other versions of it, but this one is the classic.<br />
<br />
Spiritualized--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iB7E1D_3Na4" target="_hplink">Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space</a>. <em>"All my time, until I die, we'll float in space, just you and I."</em><br />
<br />
They Might Be Giants-- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_IhMSZQDFs" target="_hplink">See the Constellation</a>. <em>Space exploration began people first looked up at the stars and wondered what they were. Before we could explore space with rockets and robot probes, we did it with telescopes, imaginations, and eyes turned skyward.</em><br />
<br />
The Tornadoes--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2ybCjf6ras" target="_hplink">Telstar</a>. <em>No lyrics, but a really catchy musical piece with some cool sound effects.</em><br />
<br />
Train--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtOeitDuu3I" target="_hplink">Drops of Jupiter</a>. <em>Dance along the light of day, and head off to the Milky Way...</em><br />
<br />
Twin Atlantic--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OuX9bODcNXA" target="_hplink">Free (Stratos Spaced Out Remix)</a>. <em>"So you know that song they played over the highlight reel after the stratosphere jump? I can't remember what it was called, but the band name was something that sounded kind of airline-ish and it was really good..." </em><br />
<br />
U2--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=co6WMzDOh1o&amp;ob=av2n" target="_hplink">Beautiful Day</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q32eogAbW48" target="_hplink">In a Little While</a>. <em>In addition to their lyrics, both of these songs have some serious space cred--the band has used recordings of astronauts on the International Space Station singing along to both in their performances.  </em><br />
<br />
Up With People--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgq0oesMZUI" target="_hplink">Moon Rider</a>. <em>This song is based on astronaut Gene Cernan's description of his emotions upon seeing the Earth from the moon. And it is tearjerkingly beautiful.</em><br />
<br />
The Vibrant Sound--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg8hvxjgO_Q" target="_hplink">Gravity</a>. <em>"I gotta take flight in the island sun/And be a shining one like the stars/I could blast off past all the molecules/Till I find the life on mars..."</em><br />
<br />
Louise Warren -- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B98v_66iX4U" target="_hplink">Destiny</a>. <em>The theme song for the EPCOT ride Mission: SPACE, I memorized it before visiting the park and then sung along at the part in the pavilion where it's played.</em><br />
<br />
Russell Watson--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZPn-lTytfGo" target="_hplink">Faith of the Heart</a>. <em>I used to run into my parents' room every time I heard this song to sing along and watch the accompanying music video showing the history of exploration. Apparently there was some sort of TV show afterwards...</em><br />
<br />
<em>Wicked</em> (the musical)-- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MdXkGXD7gDc" target="_hplink">Defying Gravity</a>. <em>Everyone deserves a chance to fly.</em><br />
<br />
Will.i.am--<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ak4AOtNTyWA" target="_hplink">Reach for the Stars</a>. <em>Those of you who've been following the Curiosity Mars mission may remember that this was the "secret" song the artist wrote after Curiosity's launch and promised to reveal after it landed on Mars. When it did, in August, the song was uploaded to the rover (yes, on Mars), and then beamed back to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory for a <strong>very</strong> special first performance! </em><br />
<br />
And albums, for when more than just one song is spacey:<br />
<br />
Brian Eno--Apollo: Soundtracks and Atmospheres. <em>Originally written for the documentary For All Mankind, all of the pieces for this album are inspired by the Apollo program.</em><br />
<br />
The Orb--The Orb's Adventures Beyond the Otherworld. <em>A psychadellic sci-fi concept album.</em><br />
<br />
Vangelis--Albedo .39. <em>The source of a lot of the music for Carl Sagan's awesome <strong>Cosmos</strong> TV series, but the songs that weren't used there are just as good, including the title, inspired by the Earth's planetary vital statistics. (The title comes from the percentage of the sunlight arriving at the Earth that is reflected back to space--39% or .39 on average.)</em><br />
<br />
Also, I highly recommend <a href="http://somafm.com/missioncontrol/" target="_hplink">Soma FM Mission Control</a>, an online radio station that mixes ambient music with audio from the Apollo program. It's one of the greatest stress-relievers I know of. <br />
<br />
Did I forget any? Let me know!]]></content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Double Feature</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/double-feature_b_2708522.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.2708522</id>
    <published>2013-02-17T23:38:44-05:00</published>
    <updated>2013-04-19T05:12:02-04:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[We like to separate the Apollo and Shuttle eras in our mind (and the five-year interregnum period without crewed flights makes it easy to), but in 1981, Apollo was still part of recent memory, with many key players like Young and Kranz still working at NASA.]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[<strong>Events of January 30, 2013</strong><br />
<br />
In my archeology class dealing with "The Contested Past", we had a fascinating discussion a few weeks ago. We were supposed to list places and artifacts we considered important to our cultural heritage as citizens of our home countries and compare our lists with students from the same country to see if we'd named the same things.<br />
<br />
I answered that after recently visiting the renovated <a href="http://www.amnh.org/exhibitions/permanent-exhibitions/theodore-roosevelt-memorial/theodore-roosevelt-memorial-hall" target="_hplink">Theodore Roosevelt Memorial Hall</a> at the American Museum of Natural History, it seemed to me that the National Parks system was a collection of such places for the United States. Other students from the US named Ellis Island, Independence Hall, Gettysburg, the Statue of Liberty, and Washington DC. After one student named Pearl Harbor and the site of the World Trade Center, our professor discussed the idea of "shared tragedy" as an element of cultural heritage. <br />
<br />
That reminded me of something I'd seen over the summer, so I raised my hand.<br />
<br />
"In the Capitol, there's this area called the <a href="http://www.senate.gov/artandhistory/art/resources/pdf/Brumidi_Corridors.pdf" target="_hplink">Brumidi Corridors</a>, where the ceilings are painted with different places in the US or scenes from history. The artist left some spaces blank in the 1800s so that people could paint events that happened later that they thought were important. And there have been some paintings added since then, and I think that it fits with what you're saying that the last one to be added <a href="http://www.visitthecapitol.gov/exhibitions/online/a-more-perfect-union/exploration/mapping-the-world/3414-painting-of-challenger-crew-brumidi-corridors-us-capitol-by-charles-schmidt-1987.html" target="_hplink">shows the Space Shuttle <em>Challenger</em> crew</a>." I said "But it's interesting to me that because I was born after that accident happened, the painting <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/flying-for-me_b_1242986.html" target="_hplink">may already mean something different to me</a> than it does to someone who was alive at the time." <br />
<br />
The professor agreed, and someone else raised his or her hand. But I started thinking about the fact that it was already late January and <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/externalflash/DOR2013/index.html" target="_hplink">"Remembrance Week"</a>, the anniversary of the <em>Challenger</em> accident and two other disasters in space exploration, wasn't too far away. Being a space enthusiast, I had observed the <em>Challenger</em> anniversary several times in the past, as well as the anniversary of the earlier <em>Apollo 1</em> fire, and I planned on doing the same thing this year. <br />
<br />
But Remembrance Week would be different this year, because February 1st, 2013, would mark the tenth anniversary of NASA's most recent accident, the <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/shuttlemissions/archives/sts-107.html" target="_hplink">Space Shuttle <em>Columbia</em> disaster</a>. And, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/a-cloudy-day-a-starry-night_b_1253971.html" target="_hplink" target="_hplink">like I said last year</a>, the loss of the Shuttle <em>Columbia</em> will always hold special significance for me because I was alive when it happened and because I can remember. I can remember seeing the news footage of the shuttle disintegrating on re-entry, I can remember seeing the headlines in newspapers and reading about it in <em>Scholastic News</em> and <em>Time for Kids</em> for the next few weeks, I can remember the flags being at half-mast. And I can remember two years later when the space shuttle returned to flight and missions resumed. <br />
<br />
I can remember all of this because I was just a few weeks short of being 10-years-old on the day of the accident, and I was 12-years-old when the Return to Flight mission occurred. And even though I do look back and find some things I did or said at those ages silly in retrospect, for the most part I think that at ten and certainly at twelve, I was reasonably mature and intelligent. I had a mind that was much the same as the mind I have now, even if my mind now contains far more information. <br />
<br />
And so it's kind of shocking to think that anything from a time I can remember so well and that seems so recent could be a whole decade ago. (But not nearly as shocking as the related fact that in less than days I will be twenty. *blinks rapidly and shakes head*) <br />
<br />
It was true--I had been nearly ten then, and now I was nearly twenty. Half of my life had gone by. But the fact that I was now an adult space enthusiast meant that I had opportunities to honor the <em>Columbia</em> astronauts that I hadn't had when I was almost-ten. Last year, I'd put extra effort into my explaining at the Boston University Astronomical Society's Public Night. This year, February 1st fell on Friday, not Wednesday, the day our club meets, and the sky was cloudy on Wednesday the 30th, so I wasn't sure what I could do.<br />
<br />
But on Monday night, the president of our club e-mailed me saying that since it was cloudy and the last day of the month, he wanted to play a movie at the meeting. Because of the proximity to the <em>Challenger</em> and <em>Columbia</em> anniversaries, he wanted some suggestions for a space-shuttle-related movie. I wrote back that I had the IMAX movies <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0084043/" target="_hplink"><em>Hail Columbia!</em></a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0089050/" target="_hplink"><em>The Dream is Alive</em></a> on DVD in my dorm room and that I could bring either one. He asked me to bring both, so I did. <br />
<br />
We started with <em>Hail Columbia!</em> because it was chronologically first, covering <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/sts1/index.html" target="_hplink">STS-1</a>, the 1981 first mission of the Shuttle <em>Columbia</em> and of the space shuttle program. I'd bought it at Space Camp a few years before and watched after buying, but I hadn't seen it since, so it felt good to "rediscover" the film without knowing every little detail of what was coming next.<br />
<br />
<em>Hail Columbia!</em> captures a moment in time--the beginning of the space shuttle era. The film's score, the outfits and hairstyles of the spectators and Flight Controllers, shuttle pilot <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/crippen-rl.html" target="_hplink">Robert Crippen</a>'s heavy tan, and the recorded message from Ronald Reagan that plays before the first launch attempt leave no doubt that this is April, 1981. True to the transitional nature of the flight shown, the movie looks both back at the prior achievements in spaceflight that STS-1 built upon and forward to the coming capabilities of the shuttle.<br />
<br />
The call-backs are appropriately mostly early in the film--STS-1 commander <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/young.html" target="_hplink">John Young</a> being informed that the Space Shuttle program has been approved by Congress while bouncing around on the moon during <em>Apollo 16</em>, a sequence of astronauts Young and Crippen flying their T-38 training jets that recalls the earlier IMAX film <em>To Fly!</em> (which ended with the launch of the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project, the last NASA human spaceflight before STS-1), Apollo 13 flight director <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gene_Kranz" target="_hplink">Gene Kranz</a> watching <em>Columbia</em>'s launch in Mission Control. (The one exception is a scene of the crew riding in a ticker-tape parade in Chicago after landing, unexpectedly amusing to a room full of space fans raised hearing the complaint that "Space shuttle astronauts don't get parades!")<br />
<br />
We like to separate the Apollo and Shuttle eras in our mind (and the five-year interregnum period without crewed flights makes it easy to), but in 1981, Apollo was still part of recent memory, with many key players like Young and Kranz still working at NASA. <br />
<br />
But at the same time, <em>Hail Columbia!</em> also shows that something new has arrived--the triumphant shots of the shuttle's liftoff are still awe-inspiring, reinforcing the sense that even though space enthusiasts now know the steps of a shuttle launch by heart, during THIS mission, each of them was new and never-before-seen-or-heard. All of us at BUAS cheered along with the spectators on the ground. <br />
<br />
I'd forgotten that a scene early in the film of Crippen and Young answering questions from reporters before launch featured a very long sequence where they discussed the possibility of damage to the tiles protecting the shuttle during the heat of re-entry. When the film was produced, in 1982, this was just the director's way of amping up the drama of the flight, but knowing that it would be similar damage that would destroy the <em>Columbia</em> twenty-odd years later made the scene seem very different. Most of us in the room awkwardly looked at each other or at the floor until that part was over--it was just too harsh in retrospect. <br />
<br />
But the film also features more positive "call-forwards"--discussions of how "in future flights" the space shuttle could be used to launch, build space stations, and deploy orbiting space telescopes--prophesy at the time of the movie's release, but proven history to us watching now. <br />
<br />
Watching the landing at Edwards Air Force Base in the California desert, I found myself repeating the air-to-ground communications word-for-word because I'd had the STS-1 landing audio as my ringtone for several months last year. ("Welcome home, <em>Columbia</em>. Beautiful, beautiful!" "You want us to take it up to the hangar, Joe?" "We're gonna dust it off first.")<br />
<br />
And with the landing scene, it's clear that a new era has arrived. Young and Crippen climb out to meet their wives and address the crowd, and celebration surrounds the landing strip. After the aforementioned unexpected parade, the film ends with a scene that no documentary about a prior space vehicle could have had--the <em>Columbia</em> launching again after being "dusted off", returning to orbit on <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/shuttlemissions/archives/sts-2.html" target="_hplink">STS-2</a>. <em>This isn't anything you've seen before--this is a <strong>reusable</strong> spacecraft! </em>It proclaimed, the perfect note on which to end the film. <em>The space shuttle is here</em>. <br />
<br />
Immediately afterwards, the boy whose laptop was connected to the projector ejected <em>Hail Columbia!</em> and popped in the DVD for <em>The Dream is Alive</em>. And while I'd never watched the two films back-to-back before, now I can't imagine any better way of viewing them. The very title of the later film comes from a comment given by Commander Young after the STS-1 landing, a comment we hear in those final moments of <em>Hail Columbia!</em> : "The dream is alive again".<br />
<br />
I first saw <em>The Dream is Alive</em> at Space Camp, during my first summer of Advanced Space Academy, and I didn't go in with very high hopes based on what my councilors had told us--it was filmed long before the construction of the International Space Station, it featured astronauts who had died in the <em>Challenger</em> disaster, etc. But I was wrong. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0290296/" target="_hplink"><em>Space Station</em></a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1433813/" target="_hplink"><em>Hubble 3-D</em></a> are excellent documentaries about the ISS and Hubble and the shuttle's role in servicing them, but when it comes to an IMAX film ONLY about the space shuttle itself, <em>The Dream is Alive</em> is still the best there is. (It's been described as "the next best thing to being there", but I wouldn't know, because I've never been in orbit!)<br />
<br />
It's incredible right from the very start--the credits are shown in sky blue against a black background as the cries of seabirds echo. The film's name appears, and then we see to a quiet scene of the swamps around the Kennedy Space Center, tinged pink and gold by the sunrise, with alligators and herons going about their business. The bird calls continue to echo. Watching in a theater, you wonder if you haven't accidentally stumbled into the wrong IMAX showing and caught a nature documentary instead. ("This isn't space!" One of the BUAS members muttered.)<br />
<br />
And then... BOOM-BOOM! A sound like thunder interrupts the bird calls, causing some of the birds sitting on a small swamp island to fly away, and we cut to...the view from the cockpit of a space shuttle coming in for landing, with the Florida coast visible, lit up in the same sunrise. Dramatic music begins and we hear a Flight Controller's voice: "Sonic booms just heard at the Kennedy Space Center." The commander's voice bleeds in, acknowledging the call, and the music builds, as the cockpit view continues... <br />
<br />
Magic. Just magic.<br />
<br />
And that sense of magic and awe and excitement continues throughout the next 36 minutes of the movie. It mixes footage from three different shuttle missions, excellent music, and Walter Cronkite's fantastic narration to create a documentary that's intelligent, artistic, and pretty close to utter perfection. (There are very few people in the world who can narrate like Mr. Cronkite could--the emotions start with his very first words in that opening scene: "At the end of a three-million mile journey, the space shuttle is coming home...")<br />
<br />
As <em>The Dream is Alive</em> opens, we're a few years down the line, in 1984, and Robert Crippen, who we last saw as John Young's co-pilot, is commanding shuttle missions of his own, teaching the ropes to newcomers <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/mcbride-ja.html" target="_hplink">Jon McBride</a> and <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/scobee.html" target="_hplink">Dick Scobee</a>. It's a nice unintentional "character arc" of sorts across the two films. (The third mission featured in the film is STS-41-D, commanded by <a href="http://www.spacefacts.de/bios/astronauts/english/hartsfield_henry.htm" target="_hplink">Henry Hartsfield</a>.) The predictions made in the previous film are slowly coming true--the crews of these missions live in space for longer periods, launch an Earth-monitoring satellite, repair a damaged sun-observing satellite, and test an expandable solar array similar to the ones currently in use on the International Space Station. Current NOAA Deputy Administrator <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/sullivan-kd.html" target="_hplink">Kathryn Sullivan</a> makes the first spacewalk by an American woman, and <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/nelson-gd.html" target="_hplink">George Nelson</a> and <a href="http://www.spacefacts.de/bios/astronauts/english/vanhoften_james.htm" target="_hplink">James "Ox" van Hoften</a> use <a href="http://www.astronautix.com/craft/shulemmu.htm" target="_hplink">Manned Maneuvering Unit</a> jetpacks to do an untethered spacewalk. (The consensus among those of us watching was that this was both "the most terrifying thing in the world if something went wrong" and "the freest form of flight any human has ever experienced".)<br />
<br />
But the film also has lighter moments--the astronauts play with their food, exercise, wave through the windows at their colleagues inside when spacewalking, and tap on the glass of a beehive experiment to see how the bees react. (Thank goodness they didn't get loose!) <br />
<br />
However, some of my favorite parts of the film are a sequence of geographic features as seen from orbit, identified by Cronkite. He could very easily have only identified each place briefly, but instead, he gives historical and cultural information that gives a sense of space exploration as an expansion not just of human technology, but of human culture. Not just "Here is Italy" or "Here is Greece", but: "As we cross the Alps into Italy, on the left is Genoa, the birthplace of Christopher Columbus. Eastward, the Po River flows into the Adriatic, and just north of its mouth, glorious Venice. This is the Italy of the Renaissance.", and "We pass over Crete, the cradle of the ancient Minoan civilization..." With no astronauts in-frame as surrogates, these are the shots that best create the sense of YOU being in space, witnessing these sights with your own eyes.<br />
<br />
The final words of the film call back to that sequence, and are an appropriate coda to both the events of the movie and the shuttle program as a whole: "Like Columbus, we dream of distant shores we've not yet seen. Now that we know how to live and work in space, we stand at the threshold of a new age of discovery."<br />
<br />
I walked back home from the meeting with my spirits buoyed -- it was hard not to be, after that double-feature! Neither film had dealt directly with the shuttle accidents, because both had been made before either one. But they showed the spirit that had driven the <em>Columbia</em> and <em>Challenger</em> crews and the joys of outer space that had been so appealing to them. They hadn't been satisfied with "the next best thing to being there" where there was the possibility of actually being there themselves and taking part in those adventures. To them, outer space, for all its dangers, wasn't scary or sad, it was beautiful and exciting -- just like we'd seen.<br />
<br />
The words on the <em>Apollo 1</em> memorial plaque seemed appropriate: "<em>Remember them not for how they died but for those ideals for which they lived.</em>"]]></content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>'Discoverers on an Old Sphere'</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/discoverers-on-an-old-sph_b_2563927.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.2563927</id>
    <published>2013-01-27T20:24:25-05:00</published>
    <updated>2013-03-29T05:12:01-04:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[One of the hardest parts of preparing an article, and I think most writers will agree with me here, is getting the beginning just right. What's the right "point of entry" to the subject being discussed? What aspect of it should you address first?]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[One of the hardest parts of preparing an article, and I think most writers will agree with me here, is getting the beginning just right. What's the right "point of entry" to the subject being discussed? What aspect of it should you address first?<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago when I was writing <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/long-lonely-liminal_b_2260178.html" target="_hplink">what I intended to be my review</a> of the National Geographic documentary <a href="http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/channel/space-dive/" target="_hplink"><em>Space Dive</em></a>, I went through that same process of mulling over the right place to begin. One natural place to begin a discussion of high-altitude ballooning and National Geographic seemed to be with an object I had seen at the Smithsonian a few months before -- a <a href="http://airandspace.si.edu/collections/artifact.cfm?id=A19370060000" target="_hplink">high-altitude balloon gondola</a> with the words "National Geographic Society" painted on its side.  However, when I realized that the focus of my story was specifically the Excelsior and Stratos projects, <a href="http://www.nationalmuseum.af.mil/factsheets/factsheet.asp?id=562" target="_hplink">Joseph Kittinger's <em>Excelsior</em> III jump</a> seemed to be the only real place to begin. <br />
<br />
But I knew I wanted to come back to that gondola in the Smithsonian, because it had a fascinating story of its own. And because this month marked <a href="http://www.nationalgeographic.com/125/" target="_hplink">the 125th anniversary of the National Geographic Society</a>, it seemed like the right time to share the story of <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/the-fire-of-adventure_b_1717538.html" target="_hplink">another</a> of the Society's awesome-but-little-known 1930s explorers. Because decades before National Geographic covered Felix Baumgartner or even Joseph Kittinger, it had another star stratospheric balloonist in <a href="http://www.infrared100.org/2012/10/top-of-world-with-albert-w-stevens.html" target="_hplink">Captain Albert Stevens</a>.<br />
<br />
According to his college yearbook (University of Maine, Class of 1907), Albert W. Stevens was not the sort of person who did things by halves: "He works nights, plugs days, and in the meantime turns out for track and trains as faithfully as the next man. His life is one strenuous strenuousity." As an adult, he routinely worked 48 hours straight, grew a <a href="http://www.nwplace.com/sbhistory.html" target="_hplink">pretty sweet mustache</a>, and, after trying his hand at gold mining in Alaska, served in World War I as a photoreconnaissance specialist, which at that time meant leaning out of the back seat of a biplane with a very large and unwieldy camera while flying extremely low over the enemy lines as enemy soldiers were shooting at him. <br />
<br />
After the war, Stevens continued to push the envelope with his flying and photographic skills, becoming a pioneer of aerial photography. He celebrated President Hoover's inauguration by using magnesium flares to take the first aerial night shots of the White House and Capitol, and was the first person to photograph the moon's shadow on the Earth during a solar eclipse. In 1924, he joined an expedition to the Amazon organized by Dr. Hamilton Rice of <a href="http://harvardmagazine.com/1999/03/jhj.ham.html" target="_hplink">Harvard's Institute for Geographic Exploration</a>.  <br />
<br />
The night after the expedition arrived in Manaus, Brazil, there was a revolt, and Stevens and the other explorers heard shooting outside of their hotel just as they had settled down to dinner. The hotel staff came over to close the window by their table for protection, but Stevens waved them away -- he wanted to watch what was happening outside. "<em>For most of us this was our first revolution and we had no intention of missing any of it</em>." Stevens casually wrote in his <em>National Geographic</em> article about the expedition. A few hours later, after the shooting had died down, he went out with some friends to examine the extent of the damage to the city and talk to the soldiers on both sides.   <br />
<br />
That was just the sort of guy Albert Stevens was.   <br />
<br />
A few weeks after that eventful start, the expedition started out along the Rio Negro -- most of the explorers by steamer, and Stevens and his pilot Walter Hinton (who had made the <a href="http://thelongestlistofthelongeststuffatthelongestdomainnameatlonglast.com/first426.html" target="_hplink">first transatlantic flight</a> a few years earlier) flying overhead in a floatplane. Early in the tropical morning, they could identify streams and tributaries from the air by watching mist rise off them, which proved very useful in making maps to help the group traveling by boat. <br />
<br />
From above, the Amazon resembled an ocean to Stevens, who wrote: <br />
<br />
"<em>Below us, a sea of green billowed away over the low hills to a slender blue-black shore of mountains far to the west. From our elevation the palms scattered through the forest below looked like hundreds of starfish at the bottom of an ocean, their lighter green focusing in strong contrast against the dark tones of the jungle</em>."<br />
<br />
While flying ahead to find a suitable location for a supply camp, Hinton and Stevens landed at a spot that seemed promising, only for the underside of the plane to hit a submerged rock that dug a deep gash into it. They were able to take off again, but because night was coming soon, they were forced to land again, on a small, sandy island in the middle of the river.<br />
<br />
It took them eleven days to patch up the plane and wait for the river to rise high enough to take off. The biggest problem that the two faced on their "Robinson Crusoe Island" was the Amazonian ants that crawled all over everything -- one night Hinton hung his shirt up on a fishing line to let it dry, only to find the next morning that aunts had crawled up the line and eaten it! "... <em>it nearly fell to pieces in his hands, being mostly holes</em>."<br />
<br />
But on their third night marooned on the island, Stevens and Hinton were awoken by loud noises in the middle of the night -- like a large animal was prowling around their camp, just on the other side of the campfire. Hinton thought it sounded like an elephant -- of course, he knew elephants don't live in South America, but midnight, stranded in the middle of the jungle is not exactly a scenario conducive to calm, logical thought -- while Stevens was worried it might be a crocodile. He suggested that they raise their hammocks higher above the ground, just in case. <br />
<br />
Once they were out of bed, though, Stevens wanted to investigate -- "<em>Neither of us was inclined to wait passively to be devoured by some unknown beast, so we decided to meet the monster</em>." He grabbed up a flashlight and revolver ("<em>too small to be of any use</em>"), Hinton armed himself with a machete and an ax, and they headed towards the source of the noise. (Are you getting the sense that Captain Stevens wasn't all that big on the whole "regard-for-personal-safety" thing or is it just me?) <br />
<br />
The flashlight beam scared the animal, and they heard it crashing away through the jungle, before they could get a good look at it. In the morning, investigating the tracks it had made, they realized it had been a <a href="http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/mammals/tapir/" target="_hplink">tapir</a>, a large, but nonthreatening herbivorous mammal.<br />
<br />
With their plane fixed, Stevens and Hinton rejoined the expedition and got back to mapping flights. From the air, they had a unique view of terrain no non-native had ever seen, scouting out rapids and waterfalls for the benefit of Dr. Rice's party on the boat. "<em>In the midst of the green, we would see a thread of silver water, spun from a source lost in the forest, falling over a sheer cliff into an inkwell of blackness hundreds of feet below</em>..." As quick and useful as aerial photography was for mapmaking, Stevens noted that it produced a less-thrilling narrative than hardship-ridden exploration on foot: "...<em>but obviously the story of De Soto, La Salle, or any of the early explorers would provide not nearly such rich reading today if they had used airplanes</em>." <br />
<br />
A decade later, back in Cambridge, Captain Stevens would share his expertise in aerial photography -- and his favorite Fairchild K-6 camera -- with a young Harvard grad student who was planning an expedition of his own to Alaska to make survey flights over the area around Mount McKinley. That student, <a href="http://www.boston.com/news/globe/city_region/breaking_news/2007/01/bradford_washbu.html" target="_hplink">Bradford Washburn</a>, whose story I told <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/the-fire-of-adventure_b_1717538.html" target="_hplink">back in July</a>, would later become a famous cartographer and wilderness photographer in his own right, as well as the founder of the Museum of Science... (Isn't it wild how things are connected like that?)<br />
<br />
All good and well, you say, but I've promised the stratosphere and delivered the Amazon. What about that black-and-white gondola in the Smithsonian? Well, as strange as it sounds in our present era of semi-regular human spaceflight, in the 1920s and 30s, the questions of how high up in the Earth's atmosphere a person could safely go and what they might find there represented great unknowns. (Back in 1913, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes, had written a short story called "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Horror_of_the_Heights" target="_hplink">The Horror of the Heights</a>" in which an unlucky pilot encountered terrible monsters lurking above thirty thousand feet [9,144 meters], the altitude of modern commercial airliners.) In 1927, <a href="http://www.nationalmuseum.af.mil/factsheets/factsheet.asp?id=732" target="_hplink">Captain Hawthorne Gray</a> of the Army Air Corps ascended to 42,740 feet (13,027.152 meters) in an open balloon basket, but returned dead, killed not by upper-atmospheric monsters but by the thin air and the failure of his oxygen equipment. <br />
<br />
It was Swiss inventor <a href="http://www.bookrags.com/research/auguste-piccard-and-paul-kipfer-are-scit-061/" target="_hplink">Auguste Piccard</a> who overcame those limitations by creating a pressurized, airtight gondola, within which pilots could breathe and conduct scientific observations in relative comfort. In 1931, Piccard and his assistant Paul Kipfer rose to 51,762 feet (15,777 meters), becoming the first humans to pass into our atmosphere's second layer, the stratosphere. Piccard and Kipfer didn't see any monsters, either, (sorry, Sir Arthur) but they gathered valuable information about incoming cosmic rays.  In a proto-Space-Race, teams from other nations eagerly attempted similar missions to greater and greater altitudes.<br />
<br />
In 1934, Albert Stevens convinced the Army Air Corps and the National Geographic Society to sponsor <a href="http://stratocat.com.ar/artics/explorer-e.htm" target="_hplink">their own high-altitude balloon mission</a>, to gather scientific data and recapture the flight altitude record for the United States. Their first balloon, <em>Explorer</em>, was launched on July 28, 1934 from a canyon in South Dakota that newspapers called the "Stratobowl". (Which sounds like some kind of strange sporting event...) Inside the gondola were Stevens and two other Air Corps officers, Major William Kepner and Captain Orvil Anderson, who wore leather football helmets borrowed from a local High School for added protection. Like their more-famous successors, Kepner, Stevens, and Anderson would end up jumping out of their gondola -- but not <em>intentionally</em>...<br />
<br />
The launch of the balloon itself went very well, with the crew safe and happy inside their capsule, the scientific equipment working as planned, and the radio hook-up allowing them to communicate easily with their ground crew and the spectators. But at 60,613 feet (18,474.8 meters), just a thousand feet short of the altitude record, the balloon ripped, sending the gondola falling back to Earth. <br />
<br />
"<em>At 10,000 feet, we really should have left the balloon, but we did not wish to abandon the scientific apparatus. So we stayed on.</em>" Stevens wrote, "<em>At 6,000 feet, we again talked the matter over and decided we had better leave. The last altimeter reading I gave was 5,000 feet above sea level. Since this part of Nebraska was 2,000 feet above sea level, we were in reality only a little more than a half mile from the ground.</em>"<br />
<br />
Kepner and Anderson parachuted out, and Captain Stevens was preparing to follow them when the balloon exploded. (Unlike later stratospheric balloons, this was a HYDROGEN balloon, not a helium one, and as would be demonstrated four years later with the Hindenburg, hydrogen gas can be very dangerous like that...) The gondola fell even faster, "dropping like a stone" in Stevens' words. He tried to push himself through the hatch twice, but the wind pressure pushed him back in. Trying one more time, he made it out, and opened his parachute, only to have some of the balloon's fabric fall on top of it. For a second, it looked bad, but then the parachute slid free of the balloon fabric, keeping Stevens safely afloat as the gondola crashed to the ground.<br />
<br />
However, Stevens' landing, as he described it, was far less-dignified than what the NGS' future space-divers would experience -- his parachute dragged him face-first through the mud of a cornfield before he stopped. Stevens and Kepner went to the house of the farmer who owned the field to make some telephone calls informing people that they had survived. The crew had worn long underwear under their flying suits to protect against upper-atmospheric cold, but on the ground in July, this attire was stifling. So Stevens changed in the farmer's bathroom and hung his long underwear on a fence before going off to make his phone calls. When he came out, well, I'll quote verbatim from his <em>National Geographic</em> article again...<br />
<br />
"<em>When I came out, I found that souvenir hunters had taken my underwear! I have not seen it since. Perhaps by this time it has been cut into small squares. Maybe, like pieces of balloon cloth that have been received by mail, some of it may be sent in with the request that it be autographed!</em>"<br />
<br />
(At least now we know that fans in the 1930s could be crazy, too...)<br />
<br />
Now, most people who had fallen from 11 miles up, nearly died, had all of their scientific equipment destroyed, been dragged through the mud, and had their underwear stolen would not be willing to repeat the experience that had caused that string of events any time soon. But as we've established, Albert Stevens was not like most people. So, in 1935, he and Orvil Anderson launched aboard <em>Explorer II</em> on another stratospheric flight...<br />
<br />
After some quick dumping of the lead shot they carried as ballast, the gondola lifted off the ground and kept ascending. All of their equipment worked fine, including the microphone that allowed people at home to listen in live on their radio sets as the mission progressed. Anderson talked to his wife through the radio hookup.<br />
<br />
"<em>Where are you?</em>" She asked, jokingly.<br />
<br />
"<em>I am up in the air.</em>" He joked back, adding that they were at 54,000 feet (16,459 meters) and still climbing. <br />
<br />
The radio equipment also allowed the balloonists to be interviewed live by an announcer in London and to overhear the chatter between reporters covering their flight.<br />
<br />
"<em>Don't play up this record business, boys, until we are sure that they have gotten down safely. There is still plenty of chance for them to crash and they have to come down alive to make it a record.</em>" One announcer advised his colleagues. Despite that reporter's doubts, Explorer II did indeed reach a record height -- 72,395 feet, or 22,066 meters. <br />
<br />
Stevens described the view from that altitude thusly:<br />
<br />
"<em>The earth could be seen plainly underneath... and hundreds of miles in every direction through the side portholes.  It was a vast expanse of brown, apparently flat, stretching on and on. Wagon roads and automobile highways were invisible, houses were invisible, and railroads could be recognized only by an occasional cut or fill. The larger farms were discernable as tiny rectangular areas. Occasional streaks of green vegetation showed the presence of streams</em>."<br />
<br />
While they could see the sky above them becoming very dark, the balloon blocked their view directly upwards, although Stevens wrote that he was sure it would have been dark enough to see stars if the balloon hadn't been in the way. At the highest angle visible, the sky looked "[not] <em>completely black; it was rather a black with the merest suspicion of very dark blue</em>."<br />
<br />
There were no accidents this time, and Anderson and Stevens landed safely. Their intact instruments delivered a wealth of knowledge about near-space conditions, and their altitude record would stand for 15 years, until the lead-in to the Space Age brought a new era of stratospheric research with the <a href="http://stratocat.com.ar/artics/stratolab-e.htm" target="_hplink">Stratolab</a> and <a href="http://www.astronautix.com/craft/manhigh.htm" target="_hplink">Manhigh</a> programs. And just seven years after that, Yuri Gagarin would orbit the Earth, setting horizons higher still.<br />
<br />
But Albert Stevens wasn't around to see any of that. He died in 1949, with the Explorer II flight still, as he had titled his article on it, "Man's Farthest Aloft". But in the conclusion of that article, we see some suggestion of the future:<br />
<br />
"<em>To get still more altitude, the balloon may be flown to a maximum ceiling by dropping all ballast, and saving none for descent; the gondola may be cut away at the top of the flight on a large parachute ... The fall of such a gondola on a parachute in the extremely thin upper air of the stratosphere would be for tens of thousands of feet before the parachute would really retard it. That <strong>would</strong> be a ride!</em>"<br />
<br />
That, twenty years after his death, a man might take an even greater ride, dispensing with the gondola and purposefully leaping out to parachute to Earth from near-space, might have seemed crazy even to Albert Stevens. <br />
<br />
Or would it have? In the 1920s, Stevens had tested a parachute and oxygen equipment in a jump from the then-dizzying altitude of 26,500 feet (8,077.2 meters), in a precursor to Joseph Kittinger's Excelsior leaps. In fact, in his 1961 book, <em>The Long, Lonely Leap</em>, Kittinger expressed admiration for how carefully Stevens had prepared for that test, with a level of thoroughness comparable to his own mission checklists three decades later. <br />
<br />
Perhaps, then, the fiction writer in me imagines, if the magic of the Society's anniversary (with perhaps a bit of help from the Tablet of Ahkmenrah) caused Captain Stevens' spirit to return to the National Geographic headquarters and compare notes with the society's later balloonists, he would quickly recognize their adventures as a natural outgrowth of his own. A combination of high-altitude balloon ascension and testing of escape equipment, together in one mission, with just a progression of scale and some technological advances -- from leather football helmets to supersonic pressure suits and radio hookups to Internet livestreams.<br />
<br />
Stevens had written that his Amazon flights had given Hinton and himself the chance to be "<em>discoverers on an old sphere that has been pretty well discovered, charted, and nailed down</em>", but I think he'd be pleased to know that others had built on his work to help move exploration beyond "this old sphere" and out into the larger Universe. And then, in the classic explorers' club scene, I suppose he would settle into an easy chair and ask Messrs. Kittinger and Baumgartner for the blow-by-blow of <em>their</em> great adventures...<br />
<br />
<strong>--</strong><br />
<br />
[The italicized quotes in this post come from Albert Stevens' articles "Exploring the Valley of the Amazon in a Hydroplane",  "Exploring the Stratosphere" and "Man's Farthest Aloft", all originally published in <em>National Geographic</em> magazine and reprinted in the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Worlds-Explore-Adventure-National-Geographic/dp/1426200447" target="_hplink"><em>Worlds to Explore: Classic Tales of Travel &amp; Adventure from National Geographic</em></a>, edited by Mark Jenkins.]]]></content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Touching the Sky</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/space-travel_b_2386044.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2386044</id>
    <published>2012-12-30T21:55:46-05:00</published>
    <updated>2013-03-01T05:12:01-05:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[Guy Laliberte, a Canadian former acrobat and fire-eater who had founded Cirque du Soleil in the 1980s, was announced as the next space tourist to visit the International Space Station aboard a Russian Soyuz spacecraft.]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[I like to joke that every time I say something authoritatively, especially online, circumstances will conspire that will make my statement look somehow silly in retrospect. Like the time I explained to my friend that diving to the bottom of the Marianas Trench was totally possible, even though it had been done only once, <a href="http://www.extremescience.com/trieste.htm" target="_hplink">in the 1950s</a>... and then a few weeks later James Cameron <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/20/science/earth/james-camerons-rocket-plunge-to-the-planets-deepest-recess.html?pagewanted=all&amp;_r=0&amp;gwh=D85AEC874A0C222BF5C13C0385596999" target="_hplink">became the first to do it in 52 years</a>. Or that time I wrote an essay about the Civil War comparing it to a horror story and then some guy wrote <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Abraham-Lincoln-Vampire-Seth-Grahame-Smith/dp/1455510181" target="_hplink"><em>Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter</em></a> and made heaps of money. "We haven't detected any signals from alien civilizations so far." I say, "Of course, with my luck, now that I've said that, we'll get a message tomorrow." <br />
<br />
That's what happened back in November of 2008, when one of my online friends innocently enough asked her friends who they would want to be if they could be anyone in the world for one day. Whoever we chose, we would have all of their skills for that day, but wake up as ourselves the next day with only memories.<br />
<br />
"Either an astronaut in orbit or an acrobat for Cirque du Soleil." I answered. Being able to instantly become someone who already had the years of training necessary for either endeavor and get straight to doing incredible stuff sounded like a good way to spend a day making some awesome memories.<br />
<br />
And, true to form, a few months later, in June of 2009, circumstances conspired to make that statement look silly -- because somebody managed to do both! <a href="http://www.space.com/7343-space-clown-lighten-mood-orbit.html" target="_hplink">Guy Laliberte</a>, a Canadian former acrobat and fire-eater who had founded Cirque du Soleil in the 1980s, was announced as the next space tourist to visit the International Space Station aboard a Russian <em>Soyuz</em> spacecraft. As a space fan, I watched his mission's launch and docking with the station -- and laughed to see Mr. Laliberte emerge through the Soyuz hatch wearing a rubber clown nose! (A few of my friends made noises about that being "undignified", <a href="http://dansideas.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/wet-blanket.jpg?w=627&amp;h=480" target="_hplink">at which I rolled my eyes</a>.) I watched his live <a href="http://www.onedrop.org/en/mission_space/poetic_social_mission.aspx" target="_hplink">"Poetic Social Mission"</a> broadcast a few days later, featuring performers around the world interpreting the theme of clean water and its importance to life, although because of homework, I regrettably had to stop watching before the end.<br />
<br />
After his safe return to Earth later that month, I didn't think much about Laliberte for a while, although I felt proud that I recognized his name when I saw it in an article about Cirque du Soleil in <a href="http://www.spiritmag.com/" target="_hplink"><em>Southwest Airlines Spirit</em> magazine</a>. (This is the case with me and a lot of people connected to space but active in other fields, like Elon Musk and Richard Garriott.) But earlier this month, my Mom mailed me an invitation she'd gotten to <a href="http://www.marlboroughgallery.com/exhibitions/gaia-photos-by-guy-laliberet-" target="_hplink">a gallery show of photographs</a> he'd taken on the station. "I thought we could go to this together when you come home for break," the sticky note she attached read. My mom appreciates my interest in space travel, and she's picked up a lot from listening to me, but art is definitely her area of expertise, so the exhibit sounded like a good intersection of our interests.<br />
<br />
That proved to be the case. I'd seen a lot of photographs taken from the space station before, but never blown up and hanging on the clean white walls of an art gallery. The format encouraged me to look at each photo twice -- first as a documentary piece and then as a work of art. (Like how I'd heard <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/the-fire-of-adventure_b_1717538.html" target="_hplink">Bradford Washburn's aerial mountain photographs</a> described a few months earlier.) One of the first photos in the gallery, showing clouds over the Gulf of Mexico, was a perfect example of that. My first thought was that the photo perfectly illustrated how cloud tops are flattened out by the temperature difference when they bump up against the tropopause, the boundary <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/long-lonely-liminal_b_2260178.html" target="_hplink">between the troposphere and stratosphere</a>. But my second thought was that the lower clouds looked like they'd escaped from an old Dutch masters' seascape. <br />
<br />
That was appropriate, given how those paintings of ships setting sail from Holland for exotic ports had been the Renaissance equivalent of the <a href="http://www.novaspaceart.com/Prints/Giclees/Calle/Power2go.html" target="_hplink">paintings of rocket launches</a> I'd seen at the Air and Space Museum the summer before in the <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/home/hqnews/2011/may/HQ_11-165_Art_Anniversary.html" target="_hplink">NASA Art exhibit</a>. But, of course, those artists had never had a view like this--they'd never seen the clouds from ABOVE, casting shadows on the world below. That was a view only possible in our current age of flight.<br />
<br />
Like the live presentation, Laliberte's photographs focused on the theme of water, showing either bodies of water or dry areas without water. Zoomed in so far that no identifying geography was visible, some of these views appeared abstract--swirls of different-hued blue formed by currents and depth changes in the Caspian Sea and sharp pink outcroppings of rock in the Sahara sticking out of the sand. Some of the photographs were on watercolor paper, which slightly reduced the detail level when seen close-up, making them appear more like paintings.<br />
<br />
Having spent the past semester taking a class in Archeological Remote Sensing, my eyes instinctively picked out roads and farm fields, (and areas of greater and lesser growth within the fields) and even the round shapes in fields created by circular sprinklers. But I also found myself pointing at a photo of a peninsula in Turkey and telling my mother "It looks like a <a href="http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/fish/sea-dragon/" target="_hplink">leafy sea dragon</a>!", and commenting on the contrasting colors in other photographs.<br />
<br />
This artistic-scientific duality was perfectly captured in the 89-minute documentary film about Laliberte's training and flight that played in the gallery, <a href="http://www.lidf.co.uk/film/touch-the-sky/" target="_hplink"><em>Touch the Sky</em></a>. In addition to following the mission itself, the film also featured interviews with several of the astronauts and cosmonauts he trained alongside and covered an incredible amount of ground, from the question of the station being safe for tourists to the effects of the <em>Columbia</em> accident on the astronaut corps and their families to the memories of the <em>Apollo</em> program that unite the current generation of space travelers, professional and private alike. Like I said about <em>Space Dive</em> (another documentary about a jeans-wearing, tattooed, nontechnical individual training for a space/near-space mission), watching films about space events I followed as they happened is always enjoyable because it gives me the chance to relive them with more clarity. Thus, it was nice to "meet" and "fly with" <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/williamsj.html" target="_hplink">Jeffery Williams</a>, <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/stott-np.html" target="_hplink">Nicole Stott</a>, and <a href="http://www.spaceflight101.com/gennady-padalka.html" target="_hplink">Gennady Padalka</a> again. A special treat was being able to see <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/kellysj.html" target="_hplink">Scott Kelly</a>, recently announced as a crewmember for an upcoming yearlong mission aboard the station, and <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/hadfield.html" target="_hplink">Chris Hadfield</a>, the current station commander, in interviews filmed long before those present developments. (Another treat was the appearance of noted musician and space enthusiast Bono, who participated in the live broadcast event.)<br />
<br />
The film captured Laliberte's initial sense of displacement at being an individual with a nontechnical background in such a highly technical environment, but also how he found common ground with the other astronauts and cosmonauts training in Russia. While Laliberte was an artist who happened to be a space traveler, several of his colleagues were space travelers who happened to be artists--pioneer spacewalker <a href="http://www.astronautcentral.com/LEONOV/AlexeiLeonov.html" target="_hplink">Alexei Leonov</a> described not only his cosmonaut experience, but also his artistic process as a painter and his paintings, and Commander Hadfield played a song he had written about the <em>Soyuz</em> rocket. This symmetry made the idea of a strict artistic-scientific division look rather silly, putting the lie to the "cold, logical machine" and "eccentric, foolish clown" stereotypes that one might have expected the protagonists to fall into.<br />
<br />
I wondered if I could get a copy of <em>Touch the Sky</em> to show at the next SEDS meeting after we returned from break, maybe to play at an event open to the whole student body. I thought it definitely captured so much of what I'd been talking about with our lack of members from outside of the College of Arts and Sciences and College of Engineering. <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/space-means-business_b_1490973.html" target="_hplink">Back in April</a>, we saw that some business students are just as enthusiastic about space travel as we are, and having aspiring space entrepreneurs in our club would make it all the stronger. And the same is true for every other residential college. How much stronger would our club be with the addition of aspiring space doctors, lawyers, educators, artists? What new perspectives would we gain?]]></content>
    <link href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/918011/thumbs/s-SPACEX-GRASSHOPPER-mini.jpg" type="image/jpeg" rel="enclosure"/>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>My Life In Comets</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/my-life-in-comets_b_2339457.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2339457</id>
    <published>2012-12-20T13:20:19-05:00</published>
    <updated>2013-02-19T05:12:01-05:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[I'm lucky to live at a time when my species is doing such incredible things, and there are surely plenty of historic moments still to come. And I'm hopeful about Comet ISON next November...]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[First of all, unprofessional as it may seem, I have to say that I am incredibly honored to do something even remotely connected to Dr. Phil Plait, as I've been a tremendous fan of his work on the <a href="http://www.badastronomy.com/index.html" target="_hplink">Bad Astronomy website </a> since Middle School. I really did learn an incredible amount from the site, and I've tried to do my part in his noble effort to clear up common misconceptions about astronomy when I hear them from friends or colleagues. (NO SOUND IN VACUUM, DARN IT!) My cousin Alexa didn't quite understand why I got so excited over seeing that she had the website's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bad-Astronomy-Misconceptions-Revealed-Astrology/dp/0471409766" target="_hplink">companion book</a> as a textbook for her college astronomy class a few years ago--I'd never seen a print copy before! (She sent it to me as a gift after that semester was over.) <br />
<br />
I don't know what it is, but being at college this past year and a half has really made me think about my younger days and what's changed and what hasn't. Today, during my Astronomy 101 final exam, I calculated the radius of a hypothetical extra-solar planet's orbit using <a href="http://www.universetoday.com/41021/keplers-third-law/" target="_hplink">Kepler's Third Law</a>. But it doesn't seem like that long ago that I was an eight-year-old sitting at a table in my elementary school library reading easy-to-read books about Comet Halley. <br />
<br />
Most of those books, from what I remember, had been written shortly before that comet's 1985-86 appearance, and while I was old enough to know that was in the past and that I had missed the chance to see it, I wasn't quite sure by <em>how</em> much I'd missed it. (As I mentioned <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/flying-for-me_b_1242986.html" target="_hplink">back in January</a>, I was -7 years old at the time.) So, I knew that <a href="http://stardate.org/radio/program/halleys-armada" target="_hplink">the space probes</a> the book said were going to visit Comet Halley had already done so, and I'd missed the chance to follow their missions, which was kind of a bummer, because the book made them all sound really cool. <br />
<br />
I <em>was</em> around in 1996 and 1997, when <a href="http://www2.jpl.nasa.gov/comet/hyakutake/" target="_hplink">Comet Hyakutake</a> and <a href="http://www2.jpl.nasa.gov/comet/" target="_hplink">Comet Hale-Bopp</a> were visible from Earth, and my father tells me he took me out to see one of them over our house, he isn't sure which. Having been either three or four at the time, though, I don't remember any of it, and when I look at the pictures that astronomers, both amateur and professional, took of those comets, I mentally kick myself a little over that. <br />
<br />
But, at that very same age, seven or eight, sometime in 1999 or 2000, I stumbled upon a magazine article (I want to say it was in <a href="http://www.uskidsmags.com/" target="_hplink"><em>US Kids</em></a>) very similar to that old book about Comet Halley, talking about the <a href="http://stardust.jpl.nasa.gov/home/index.html" target="_hplink">Stardust</a> spacecraft which was either about to be or had just been launched on a journey to Comet Wild 2, and encouraging students to follow along. It sounded interesting, all right, but given my age, the 2004 encounter date seemed impossibly far away and I forgot about the article in the intervening years. I think I did see something on the news about it once Stardust actually arrived at the comet, and I definitely remember hearing about the recovery of the capsule containing the samples of cometary material it had captured, two years later, in 2006.<br />
<br />
I didn't realize until later how remarkable it really was that this probe had sent back samples--pieces of the comet itself!--to Earth from a world farther away than the moon for scientific study. While I understood that intellectually long before, the full emotional impact of those facts didn't hit me until last year, when I actually saw the <a href="http://airandspace.si.edu/collections/artifact.cfm?id=A20080417000" target="_hplink">sample return capsule</a> myself at the Air and Space Museum in Washington. It's in the Milestones of Flight gallery, under the <em>Spirit of St. Louis</em> and across from the <em>Apollo 11</em> Command Module, because it <em>is</em> a milestone--the first spacecraft to return samples from beyond the moon. <br />
<br />
There are a few other uncrewed satellites or robotic probes in that gallery, but they're all replicas or test hardware--the real ones burned up on reentry or are still out there in space. The <em>Viking</em> Lander next to the Stardust display is just a spare used for testing on Earth, because the real ones are still on Mars. The Air and Space Museum officially <a href="http://airandspace.si.edu/exhibitions/gal100/viking.html" target="_hplink">owns the real ones</a>, because NASA transferred ownership to them, but they're still on the surface of Mars and not in the museum, because they were never made to return to Earth. <br />
<br />
But that capsule is real. It left the Earth, and it traveled through space, and it visited another world and collected little pieces of it, and it came back and human hands touched it again.<br />
<br />
And I think that's incredible. <br />
<br />
I was watching closely last year when Stardust completed its final mission, <a href="http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2011/02/pictures/110216-comet-tempel-1-stardust-nasa-next-space-science/" target="_hplink">flying by Comet Tempel 1</a> on Valentine's Day to examine the mark left by the 2005 <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/deepimpact/main/index.html" target="_hplink">Deep Impact</a> collision Dr. Plait talked about in his video. A small crater was still visible. <br />
<br />
In his book <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/star-trails-david-h-levy/1008251820" target="_hplink"><em>Star Trails</em></a>, <a href="http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/338050/David-H-Levy" target="_hplink">David Levy</a> (of Shoemaker-Levy 9 fame) mentions how a Deep Impact mission scientist described that collision--"It's [the] revenge of the dinosaurs!"--Earth-life reaching out to strike back at a comet and slightly change its orbit. Like Dr. Plait said, that's a capability we have that the dinosaurs didn't. We sent a spacecraft to meet Tempel 1 and altered its surface topography, and then, six years later, sent another spacecraft to meet up with it and photograph the results--one that had already done everything I mentioned above. <br />
<br />
Am I bummed that I didn't see Comet Halley and that I don't remember Hale-Bopp and Hyakutake and that I didn't follow Stardust and Deep Impact more closely? A little bit, but I can't change the past. I'm lucky to live at a time when my species is doing such incredible things, and there are surely plenty of historic moments still to come. And I'm hopeful about <a href="http://www.planetary.org/blogs/guest-blogs/20120925-comet-ison.html" target="_hplink">Comet ISON</a> next November...]]></content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Long, Lonely, Liminal</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/long-lonely-liminal_b_2260178.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2260178</id>
    <published>2012-12-07T18:12:02-05:00</published>
    <updated>2013-02-06T05:12:01-05:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[I don't know where I first saw the photographs. I don't remember if it was in a book, or a magazine, or maybe even online....]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[I don't know where I first saw the photographs. I don't remember if it was in a book, or a magazine, or maybe even online. I'm pretty sure I saw the still photographs before the film of the event, though.<br />
<br />
Whatever the case may be, I know I was awestruck when I first saw those photographs--I'm talking, of course, of <a href="http://www.nationalmuseum.af.mil/factsheets/factsheet.asp?id=562" target="_hplink"><em>these</em> photographs</a>, the photographs taken by the automatic camera in <a href="http://www.af.mil/information/heritage/person.asp?dec=&amp;pid=123006518" target="_hplink">Joseph Kittinger</a>'s <em>Excelsior III</em> gondola <a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/81/Kittinger-jump.jpg" target="_hplink">as he jumped out of it</a> <a href="http://spacecollective.org/userdata/4f3WLUsD/1196421191/ballon1b.jpg" target="_hplink">30 kilometers (19 miles)</a> <a href="http://vaderweekly.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/balls.jpg" target="_hplink">above the Earth</a> in 1960. They're unquestionably striking, and I agree with everything Ben Cosgrove said <a href="http://life.time.com/culture/joe-kittinger-the-man-who-fell-to-earth/#1" target="_hplink">on the LIFE magazine site</a> (where they know quite a bit about awesome retro aerospace photos, I'd imagine) about why that's the case, but for me, the two most immediate sensations when I saw those photographs were of liminality and fragility. <br />
<br />
Of course, I didn't know the word "liminality" at the time, because I didn't learn it until last fall when I took Introduction to Cultural Anthropology, but I knew the concept it describes--a state of being in-between two realms that isn't fully part of either one and holds danger and magic power--from literature and experience. (As Rod Serling <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Qj9L5U7csg" target="_hplink">so aptly put it</a>: "...the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition... between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge... the dimension of imagination... an area which we call... <em>The Twilight Zone</em>.") <br />
<br />
Those photographs show a liminal realm--that's not the surface of the Earth, or the area where we're used to seeing airplanes and balloons fly, not with those clouds so far below, not with the black sky and the curvature of the Earth visible. But it's not the realm of shuttles and space stations, either--when one exits a vehicle in orbit, one floats along with it, <a href="http://www.physicsclassroom.com/mmedia/vectors/sat.cfm" target="_hplink">falling endlessly AROUND the Earth</a> in an orbit of one's own, one doesn't suddenly drop TOWARDS the Earth as we see the figure in these photographs doing. We know air and we know space, but this place, 30 kilometers up, doesn't quite seem to be either one--it's liminal. <br />
<br />
That's true scientifically as well as poetically--the part of the atmosphere we normally think of, the part we breathe, the part where most of our weather happens, the part we're in anywhere we go on the surface of Earth from the Dead Sea to the summit of Everest, is just <a href="http://csep10.phys.utk.edu/astr161/lect/earth/atmosphere.html" target="_hplink">the very lowest layer of the atmosphere, the troposphere</a>. The troposphere ends about 10 to 15 kilometers (6 to 9.3 miles) up, depending on local conditions, but the <a href="http://www.fai.org/icare-records/100km-altitude-boundary-for-astronautics" target="_hplink">boundary of space</a> is much higher--one hundred kilometers or sixty-two miles up. In-between are the layers of the upper atmosphere-- the stratosphere, mesosphere, and thermosphere-- where gas molecules become progressively farther and farther apart and air pressure progressively less and less.<br />
<br />
In our everyday lives, most of us never go any higher than the lower stratosphere--the normal, 12-15 km altitude of commercial jets. So if the area beyond seems strange and unusual, and if excited reporters trip up and call it space, perhaps we can understand why--it's a liminal realm, betwixt and between, as the terms "near-space" and "edge of space" reflect. At the point those photographs were taken, 30 kilometers above sea level, Captain Kittinger was in the middle part of the stratosphere, above 99% of the Earth's atmosphere and in a pretty good vacuum. But he was only about a third of the way to space.<br />
<br />
And that's where the other emotion comes from, the sense of great fragility. The photographs show a lonely human in this strange environment that could so easily kill him, falling from this great height and getting smaller and smaller against the clouds. Kittinger was wearing a pressure suit, but from the angle of the camera it's not visible under the layers of cold-weather gear he wore over it. Instead, our first impression is that his only protection in this hostile area is a crash helmet, a flight jacket, and thick pants held down by red duct tape, with a toolbox inexplicably taped to his bottom--in short, he looks woefully underdressed for the situation at hand. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xq8s-er-jhg&amp;hd=1" target="_hplink">In the film of the jump</a>, we can see his arms and legs flailing, like an upturned turtle, and we feel a sharp twinge of sympathy at the sight of a fellow human alone against the elements. A small, fragile man, tumbling through a vast and dangerous ocean of sky.<br />
<br />
So, wherever I first saw the Excelsior photographs, I know what my reaction to them was. I'm fairly sure that I first heard of the Excelsior program in the June 2007 issue of <em>Popular Science</em> magazine, in which the article "<a href="http://www.popsci.com/military-aviation-space/article/2007-06/high-dive" target="_hplink">High Dive</a>" described several contemporary groups planning skydives from even higher up, but I don't know if that article included those pictures. (And because I always buy <em>Popular Science</em> in airport bookstores to read on planes, I know I probably read that article while en route to Washington DC for my 8th grade trip in late May of that year.)<br />
<br />
Of course, I found it interesting, but none of the projects really seemed to be very far along, and they all sounded a little crazy anyhow, so I filed it away in my mind and went on with my life. And over the next few years, there were some news stories about those teams and the progress they were making, and I saw photos online of a guy from the team that was now the front-runner doing test jumps in his spacesuit, but I didn't really have much context about the topic in general. Not until another trip to Washington and another magazine article.<br />
<br />
One day early in my internship in DC this summer was brightened by receiving the <a href="http://www.airspacemag.com/issue/July-2012.html" target="_hplink">July 2012 issue</a> of <em>Air and Space Smithsonian</em> magazine, thoughtfully forwarded to me by my parents. White text on the magazine's front cover asked the question: "CAN A HUMAN BODY SURVIVE MACH 1?", and, being a superhero fan, I eagerly read the accompanying article, "<a href="http://www.airspacemag.com/flight-today/Bullet-Man.html" target="_hplink">The 120,000 Foot Leap</a>", to find the answer.<br />
<br />
That answer, according to the article, was "Maybe." The question was relevant because that front-runner team, <a href="http://www.redbullstratos.com/" target="_hplink">Red Bull Stratos</a>, were gearing up to make their attempt to jump from an even higher altitude than Kittinger had--at least 18,000 feet (5,500 meters) higher, as the title implied. The person who would be actually jumping from their balloon gondola was Austrian skydiver <a href="http://www.redbullstratos.com/about-felix/felix-baumgartner-pilot-biography/" target="_hplink">Felix Baumgartner</a>, the guy I'd seen in the spacesuit online, and it was a very real possibility that during his descent, he'd fall faster than the speed of sound. Since nobody had ever done this before, doctors and spacesuit designers were interested in knowing what would happen to a human body traveling at supersonic speeds without a vehicle, protected only by a spacesuit. As the blurb on the magazine's Table of Contents page put it: "Can he break the sound barrier without breaking his neck?" <br />
<br />
That wasn't the only danger, I learned--two previous challengers to the record, American Nicholas Piantanida and Soviet Peter Dolgov, had been killed after problems with their suits had exposed their bodies to the near-vacuum environment. And Kittinger himself had had a close shave on his first Excelsior flight, when his parachute had malfunctioned, wrapped around his neck, and caused him to spin uncontrollably, so fast that he blacked out. (Fortunately, he had a spare that opened automatically.) <br />
<br />
The Stratos team was hoping to avoid any similar disasters-- they had an expert medical team that included former NASA Flight Surgeon <a href="http://www.redbullstratos.com/the-team/jonathan-clark/" target="_hplink">Dr. Jonathan Clark</a>, a specially designed spacesuit, and now-Colonel Kittinger (who was still alive) serving as Mr. Baumgartner's mentor and the only one he'd talk to during his flight. But nothing could completely eliminate the unknowns and uncertainties...<br />
<br />
Thus suitably briefed on the historical and scientific background of this project, I made a note to follow their progress and watch the final jump when it happened in a few months. (In an interesting twist, I recently learned that during my time in DC, CNN had <a href="http://situationroom.blogs.cnn.com/2012/05/29/daredevil-plans-120000-foot-jump/" target="_hplink">filmed an interview with Kittinger and Baumgartner in the National Air and Space Museum's Space Race gallery</a>. I had visited the museum the day before and the day after, and I was definitely in that gallery within 24 hours of them, but I didn't know it until months later. <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/astronauts-i-almost-metat_b_1566746.html" target="_hplink">Near-space balloonists I almost met?</a>)<br />
<br />
So, a few months later, there I was, hunched over my laptop in my dorm room watching the mission unfold when I should have been studying art history. I don't suppose my personal experience of watching the ascent, jump and landing was much different from any of the other millions of people watching--there was a lot of gasping, finger-clasping, "Oh my god!" shouting, breath-holding, and finally, cheering. During the ascent, I had websites open in other tabs where I was discussing the events of the mission with my friends, but once the balloon got close to peak altitude, I made the live feed full-screen and didn't take my eyes off it. <br />
<br />
I heard Mr. Baumgartner's accented comments as he performed the pre-jump preparations, and the pauses in-between underscored the seriousness of the moment. Under my breath, I started muttering the sorts of things I'd been saying to myself <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/letter-to-gale-crater_b_1823130.html" target="_hplink">as I'd watched the <em>Curiosity</em> landing</a>--variations on "good", "okay", and "c'mon" as various items on the checklist were resolved. I did this to calm my own nerves more than anything else--I could scarcely imagine how the man's own nerves were feeling, "fearless" though we'd heard he was. If the pauses and heavy breaths were any indication, he was at least thinking very carefully about each move.   <br />
<br />
But, precisely when it was most needed, there it was--a voice of reassurance and control. Online, one can see any number of informal reactions to videos and pictures of the Excelsior jumps, where commenters declare in profanity-laden enthusiasm what a stone-cold, butt-kicking, eats-a-bowl-of-nails-for-breakfast-without-any-milk tough guy Colonel Kittinger must have been to do such a thing, (only in language rather less polite than that) but what we saw here was something else. Definitely, there was no doubt that the white-haired old man in the round glasses that the control room cameras showed us was intensely focused and fully serious, a test pilot through and through. <br />
<br />
His manner was not just calm, though, but avuncular, or in fifty-cent words, like that of a kindly uncle. He prodded Mr. Baumgartner gently through the steps, responding proudly with "attaboy, that's good" and "there you go" as they were completed--sounding as if he were instructing the younger man in how to tie his shoes or ride a bike without training wheels, or something similarly antithetical to free-falling from the stratosphere. "Keep your head down." He said, as Baumgartner brought himself to a standing position, as if it had just been a kid ducking under a fence, as if the event was the most normal thing in the world. "Start the cameras, and our guardian angel will take care of you."<br />
<br />
I don't know what I can possibly say about what happened next that hasn't been said already, and probably said better, by someone else. Those who watched live will surely never forget it, and for those who did not, at least a million different videos of the jump are easily available. Mr. Baumgartner gave a small speech, stepped out of his capsule, and fell for four minutes and twenty seconds, breaking the sound barrier (and thus definitively answering the question asked by the <em>Air and Space</em> article), before opening his parachute, floating safely down to Earth, and landing on his feet. And it was <em>awesome</em>. <br />
<br />
Of course the websites I visit were abuzz after the landing. Everyone was excitedly sharing their own reactions and screenshots (mine were pretty good, if I do say so myself). We had a lot to talk about--"That was SOOOOOO cool!", "I would have been screaming all the way down", "Did you see how happy his mom was when he landed?", "Somebody go tell Usain Bolt he's not the fastest man alive anymore!"--but, being space history fans, a lot of them had also been impressed by Colonel Kittinger's performance as capsule communicator. For a man in his eighties to put so much effort into helping another man break his records, to do such an excellent job of it, and then to remark with grandfatherly pride, "I couldn't have done it any better myself"--that took a remarkable human being indeed. <em>He really seems</em>, I thought, <em>like such a cool old guy</em>.<br />
<br />
And that was when I realized that the programs he'd taken part in were an era of space history that I didn't know very much about at all. Like I said <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/the-fire-of-adventure_b_1717538.html" target="_hplink">back in July</a>, there are few thoughts that send me into a research frenzy quicker than the realization that, "<em>OMG there's something cool in history that I don't know anything about!</em>" I spent my free time in the next few weeks reading all of the information I could find about the 1950s <a href="http://www.astronautix.com/craft/manhigh.htm" target="_hplink">Manhigh</a> and <a href="http://www.nationalmuseum.af.mil/factsheets/factsheet.asp?id=562" target="_hplink">Excelsior</a> programs, and the related experimental work that had been undertaken in the same era. <br />
<br />
We celebrate Yuri Gagarin and Alan Shepard and their contemporaries rightfully, because they did what no other humans had ever done before--pass beyond our Earth's atmosphere into outer space. But, as Sir Isaac Newton said, when we see farther than others, it is because we stand on the shoulders of the giants who came before us. The first steps into space were a progression of scale from the earlier work that had been done in getting airplanes to fly higher and faster, and in determining if humans and equipment could survive the conditions found in space. It was in the liminal zone of the stratosphere that the emergency and spacesuits that protected our first travelers into true outer space were given some of their field-tests. And it was Gagarin and Shepard who put all of the technological advances together and broke on through to the other side. <br />
<br />
I learned that a docu-drama based on some of these early tests had been released in 1956, called <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049571/" target="_hplink"><em>On the Threshold of Space</em></a>, a phrase I thought summed up the era perfectly. The Latin root of our English term "liminality", <em>līmen</em>, literally means "a threshold". At Space Academy, our workbooks had lumped everything from Robert Goddard to the launch of <em>Explorer 1</em> under the title "Early Days", even though that timespan covered three decades and incredible advances in technology. Now I feel safe in breaking it up a little more and describing the period from the end of World War II to when the Mercury and Vostok programs really got underway as the "Threshold Era".<br />
<br />
I joked with my friends that there must have been subliminal messaging in the Stratos livestream to inspire such a sudden interest, but that it must have been flawed, because instead of obsessively thinking about wanting to buy the sponsor's product, I was obsessively thinking about the history of near-space ballooning, and putting books about it on my Christmas list! (I do notice their logo everywhere now though, so one never knows...) I'm a bit busy with finals now, but once they're over, and I'm home with those books, I can't wait to learn even more. When circumstances made it so that I was visiting my aunt's house on November 11th, the night the <em>National Geographic</em> documentary about the mission, <a href="http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/channel/space-dive/" target="_hplink"><em>Space Dive</em></a>, premiered, I camped out with my brothers to watch on the big TV she has. Now, the other big aerospace buff in my family is my younger brother Peter, but where I like spaceships, experimental aircraft, old-school biplanes and other hopefully-non-lethal flying things, Peter is a fighter plane buff. Whenever I have questions about military aviation, he's the one I ask. But as we watched <em>Space Dive</em>, something very surprising happened: I was the one answering his questions about military aviation.<br />
<br />
"<em>Colonel</em> Joe Kittinger? What service?" Peter asked me, after the narrator had introduced Kittinger on-screen.<br />
<br />
"Air Force." I responded promptly, and pointed out a uniformed photo of him that appeared on a wall of photos a few minutes later.<br />
<br />
Of course, I got really excited when the documentary got to talking about Project Excelsior. The narrator said something like "He took a balloon up 102,000 feet, and then... he jumped!"<br />
<br />
"Did he <em>have</em> to jump?" Peter asked.<br />
<br />
"Well, the purpose of the mission was to test the parachute and other bail-out gear to make sure people could safely eject from the SR-71 and other planes like that they were making, so yeah, he had to jump." I said.<br />
<br />
"So he was a LAB RAT?"<br />
<br />
"A test pilot."<br />
<br />
The whole documentary was great (I only wish it had been around three summers ago when my group at Yale Summer Session was doing our presentation on the physics of air travel--the explanation of what causes a sonic boom would have been perfect to play), and I definitely gained a new sense of the hard work that had been involved. And, even if my brothers will call me sappy for it, I thought the scenes of Mr. Baumgartner talking with his mother about the dangers of the project were very heartwarming. But it was the project's Technical Director,<a href="http://sagecheshire.com/news/2012/03/biography-art-thompson/" target="_hplink"> Art Thompson</a>, who really came off as the unsung hero of the mission to me, dealing with all of the immense technological challenges, company/office politics, and strong personalities involved--successfully! <br />
<br />
It's always cool watching documentaries or reading books about news events I followed closely, because at the same time I'm watching, I'm reliving the experience  I had watching it live, but with the benefit of information I didn't have at the time (every time I watch <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1433813/" target="_hplink">IMAX <em>Hubble 3D</em></a>, I still can't believe that final servicing mission was three whole years ago), and with <em>Space Dive</em>, it was especially surreal because the program aired only a month after the actual jump. The last image in <em>Space Dive</em> (I guess this is kind of a spoiler?) was Mr. Baumgartner, still in his suit, hugging his mentor after landing, and I found myself repeating my earlier thought, with a few modifications: <em>Joe Kittinger really seems like a very cool, funny, nice old guy who's had an incredible life.</em>]]></content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>An Interview With GRAIL Principal Investigator Maria Zuber, Part 2: 'Something No One Else Has Ever Known'</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/an-interview-with-grail-p_b_2119155.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2119155</id>
    <published>2012-11-14T18:48:05-05:00</published>
    <updated>2013-01-14T05:12:01-05:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA["There's no doubt that the biggest adrenaline rush was the launch. There's nothing like launching your own rocket."]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[<em>Because my conversation with <a href="http://eapsweb.mit.edu/people/zuber" target="_hplink">Maria Zuber</a>, MIT Geophysics Professor and head scientist for NASA's <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/grail/main/index.html" target="_hplink">GRAIL mission</a>, went on for quite a while, I had to split it into two posts to keep it from being too long. In the last post, Dr. Zuber described the incredible precision with which the twin GRAIL probes must operate to successfully map the moon's gravity field, as well as some of the science they're returned.<br />
<br />
In this section, our conversation turns more emotional, as Professor Zuber discusses how she was inspired to become a scientist, the most exciting moments of the mission so far, how scientists and artists can best collaborate to communicate the wonders of exploration, and the student scientists who surpassed her wildest expectations...</em><br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> What would you say so far has been the most exciting or the best thing that has happened, the most exciting experience so far in the course of the GRAIL mission?<br />
<br />
<strong>Maria Zuber (MZ):</strong> Let's see... there's no doubt that the biggest adrenaline rush was the launch. There's nothing like launching your own rocket, no matter what experience you have, it's hard to beat launching your own rocket. I guess my marriage and the birth of my children and the launch of my rocket, those are the defining experiences in my life.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> (laughs)<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Of course, family always first, but rocket launches are right up there. And having the two spacecrafts get into orbit. <br />
<br />
What's very interesting, and this is a little bit hard to describe, is that these spacecrafts, they're machines. You start with some aluminum, you start with circuit boards, you put all the stuff together, you wire it up, you put software on it, and it's something that you create. And what's amazing is that you send it to this faraway place, and it does what you tell it to do. <br />
<br />
It's very hard to explain. You built it, of course it does what you tell it to do, but what I liken it to is when you fly in an airplane. I love to fly in airplanes. Whenever I take off in an airplane, its amazing to me, I think it's amazing that an airplane can fly. And I know exactly why an airplane should fly, lift plus thrust is greater than load plus drag, the plane takes off. But to me, it's just a wonderful thing to me whenever an airplane takes off. <br />
<br />
So the fact that you can send these machines far, far away and you tell them what to do and they do what you tell them, perfectly, is to me, I just can't even describe what a thrill it is. And when the data comes down, I look at the raw data all the time, it's coming down on my computer right now. You look at this data that nobody's ever seen before, so there's a period in my life every day where I look at what we have, and I have information in front of me that nobody in the history of humanity has ever seen before. <br />
<br />
And of course, what I want to do is analyze it and write it up so that everybody can analyze it and everybody can have it, but knowing that you're part of a group of people that has discovered something and has known something that nobody else has ever known...<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> That's real exploration.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> You never get tired of it. No matter how long I've worked on this, or how long I will work on it, I will never get over the thrill of knowing something for the first time that hasn't been known before. <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Do you feel a sense of having a remote presence, of feeling that it's part of you that's there, is it sort of a sense of feeling as if you are there in a way?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Absolutely. In fact, I'm on leave this semester to fly my two spacecrafts, I had to go to a meeting of the faculty for something and I walked into the room, and I said, "Alright, back from the moon for an hour!" (laughs) "And then I'm going back!"<br />
<br />
We never say, "Our spacecrafts are at the moon", we always say "<em>We're</em> at the moon".  It's something that everybody on the team feels. We're there, collecting these observations, our spacecrafts are doing it for us, but there's no doubt at all that we feel like we're there with them.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I suppose the corollary to asking what the best thing or most exciting thing was is to ask, what has so far been the worst part?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Oh, the worst part... well, probably the, uh, I don't know if it's the lack of sleep... well, you get over that. (laughs) <br />
<br />
Over the course of the mission, even a mission that goes very well, you get scrutinized by a lot of review boards that are extremely critical, and they need to be critical. But even though we did incredibly well, technically, schedule, budget-wise, there were times when I felt that we weren't doing so well because of the scrutiny that we were getting. <br />
<br />
But I'm really glad that we got that scrutiny, because if the boards hadn't been as probing as they were, we might not have been as successful as we are right now. <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> What has been the strangest part, or the most unexpected?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> So, that's actually a good question, because it ties into something that I wanted to mention. We did an education program on the mission, called -- <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> <a href="http://images.moonkam.ucsd.edu/main.php" target="_hplink">MoonKAM</a>?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> MoonKAM. MoonKAM turned on again yesterday for the extended duration mission, because we'd had to hold off for a while because our operations were just so complex getting the spacecraft into orbit that we had to get that understood before we could start up doing the education part again. <br />
<br />
What has amazed me is how far beyond the lesson plan the students have gone with studying the images [from MoonKAM]. We've collected over 100,000 images for students, the students targeted the images, the students uploaded the commands and the students downloaded the pictures that they had targeted, and our colleagues at <a href="https://sallyridescience.com/" target="_hplink">Sally Ride Science</a> had developed activities in the classroom for students to study the images, but the students went well, well beyond what was in the activities to try to understand what was in the images. <br />
<br />
They researched these areas themselves, we had one group of student that took an image of a crater that was 40 meters across, and they wanted to understand what that meant, so they got permission to go out on the Texas Tech football field and draw a big circle 40 meters across to be able to say, "Wow, 40 meters is actually pretty big across", even though that's a tiny crater on the moon. <br />
<br />
There were students who, in addition to analyzing the images, read literature books about the moon, did art related to the moon, studied the moon's place in history, so it's just been incredible what an impetus this was for students. The students were just so motivated to understand these images. <br />
<br />
When Sally Ride and I designed this experiment, we thought the students would be very interested because it was their own images of the moon, and it was just incredible how motivated they were, so we really believe we're on to something in terms of creating a really, really transformative educational experience for students.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Did you have moments like that when you were young, when you got very into what was going on, and you knew that was what you wanted to do?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> I've always known that I wanted to study space. I can't even begin to think what I would have done if I'd had the opportunity we've provided for these students. I built my own telescopes, I looked at the sky... you're interested in space, so you've clearly done a lot of this.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I ask a lot of people this question, some people have one moment [that got them inspired] and some people don't.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> There was never one single moment for me, but I am certain that we created many of these moments for the students in the MoonKAM experiment. We never expected all of them to want to grow up and work for NASA, what we wanted to do was to motivate them.<br />
<br />
This was targeted at middle school. Middle school is the time when students have to decide, do I take the harder math that puts me in the AP track, or do I take the easier math, and then I can't take advanced science. So why take a hard course when you can take an easier course? Well, if you can do cool stuff like that, that's a strong motivation to take the harder math. So we're hoping this inspires kids to study math and science and take classes in engineering and science in general. <br />
<br />
This is all about us creating opportunities for us to realize that to advance as a society, we need scientists and engineers, but we also need informed voters, who understand complicated issues associated with the environment, with climate, with the world around us. Who understand traffic flow, energy, medical issues, there are a lot of things going on in the world today where you have to have a pretty good understanding of science to be on top of.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> You said that there were students who were interested in the moon artistically and historically, how do you feel about people who have other talents and are interested in the missions, their contributions? For example, the class who named the probes? I know there are a lot of engineers who, when they see artistic stuff, they don't understand it, or they say, "Oh, that's nice, but whatever", so how do you feel about other talents contributing?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Last year, for MIT's 150th anniversary, they had five institute symposia. I co-organized one on exploration, and as part of the exploration symposium, we had a storyteller come and tell stories about exploration, and we held a student competition, and we held an art exhibit, because we wanted exploration not just to be about the technology and the science. <br />
<br />
We thought that "exploration" really should cover all aspects of endeavor -- the humanities, the social sciences, all of that comes into it. We all felt the same way, to the extent that you could broaden up the participation to encompass everybody's interests. Because exploration, it's so much fun!<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Yes.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> What could be better than discovering something? So we broaden it -- everybody's good at something. Not everybody's good at math and science, although we're hoping to help people find talents in that field, but there are people with talents in literature and the arts and it's fantastic if all of these elements can be brought to bear on this problem. Artists are able to see things that I wouldn't see if I looked at something.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I really do think it's incredible sometimes, when you have people with different talents who are talking about the same thing, and you have people who can make -- I'm an archeologist -- historical connections. I remember when the Mars rovers first landed, there was this <a href="http://science.nationalgeographic.com/science/space/universe/mars-rover-report/" target="_hplink">really great article</a> in <em>National Geographic</em> where they mentioned that each of the rovers had one arm, and they were comparing it to <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/canyon/peopleevents/pandeAMEX05.html" target="_hplink">John Wesley Powell</a>, who was an explorer of the Grand Canyon, who had only one arm.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Right.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> And they made all of these really great comparisons, and they were saying, surely the spirit of John Wesley Powell is riding with us on Mars, and I went, "That is so..."<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> It's great.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me: </strong>That's a really great thought.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> I hadn't seen that, but it's really good.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Now, I asked you this question before, when we were at the Mars event with Dr. Elachi, and I guess I want to ask it again for the blog post now. You said when the probes were launched that they were like your children, and you were thinking of them as GRAIL A and GRAIL B, because that's what they were called. Now they have names, they're Ebb and Flow, do you think of them as Ebb and Flow in your head?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Yes, I do. Although for the software, we use "A" and "B", we always put "Ebb and Flow" in parentheses now, to give them names. The names have been very popular. A lot of people out there know the names. It's interesting, because the two of them were designed to be nearly identical, but they have slightly different behavior. <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> That's just what I was going to ask.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> It's very slight, in terms of battery charging levels. Slight, slight, slight differences that don't really make a difference in the performance, but it's just like you have children, and children are different, these spacecrafts are different. You can sort of at this point predict what their behavior will be.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I've been following them since the beginning, and I've heard people talk about the <em>Spirit</em> and <em>Opportunity</em> rovers as having personalities, because we have had so many experiences to judge by. <br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> They behave.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Yeah.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> I'll tell you, my spacecrafts, they behave really well, it's easier to predict what they'll do than it is to predict what my friends or family will do, because people can be somewhat unpredictable! <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> You said that you built your own telescopes when you were younger, what other projects did you do as a science enthusiast when you were younger?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> When I was growing up, I lived in eastern Pennsylvania, in anthracite country. I built my own telescopes, I taught myself optics, and I ground my own lenses, I made my own eyepieces. And I spent lots, and lots, and lots of time looking up at the sky. So I knew the night sky like the back of my hand.<br />
<br />
I did a lot of that, I did some geology, but not as much. Space was really my thing. Building equipment, too.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I see you've got a LEGO box [here in your office]. Did you play with LEGO?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> I did play with LEGO. [<em>I follow her over to look at a LEGO model spacecraft on her desk</em>]<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Ohhhhh, that's awesome!<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Yeah, that's the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, we have that in LEGO.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Is that a kit?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Yes, I think you can probably order it online.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> That's incredible, can I take pictures of that later?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Sure. <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> So you still build with LEGO?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> I still do, although I had an undergrad build that.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I know that there's a petition to make a <em>Curiosity</em> LEGO set and I really hope they work that out.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ: </strong>They probably will.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Thank you so much, I don't want to take any more of your time, I got a lot of really good data. Thank you for your time.<br />
<br />
<em>That night, it was clear, and the Boston University Astronomical Society had a meeting. While some of the more technically-minded students were photographing the moon with a computer-controlled telescope, I looked through its eyepiece. The view was still and crisp, with mountains and craters clearly visible. During our conversation, both Professor Zuber and I had generically referred to the moon as "a planet" because we were comparing it to planets, even though the moon is technically a satellite of the Earth, and now I understood why -- the moon may not be a planet, but it is a WORLD, a real place, with its own geology and geography, a place that can be visited and studied.</em>]]></content>
    <link href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/863453/thumbs/s-NASA-GRAIL-mini.jpg" type="image/jpeg" rel="enclosure"/>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>An Interview With GRAIL Principal Investigator Maria Zuber, Part 1: 'The Adventures of Ebb and Flow'</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/something-no-one-else-has_b_2070470.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2070470</id>
    <published>2012-11-13T15:23:22-05:00</published>
    <updated>2013-01-13T05:12:01-05:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[Back in September, when I went to hear Dr. Charles Elachi speak, I ran into Maria Zuber, the top scientist on the GRAIL mission, and asked her if it would be possible to meet up and do an interview.]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[<strong>Events of October 24, 2012</strong><br />
<br />
<em>Is it really November already? After Columbus Day, everything just seemed to whiz by me in a blur of midterms, essays and hurricanes... but I was able to take some time out to travel across the river to MIT for an appointment I'd made several weeks before.<br />
<br />
Back in January, I talked about all of <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/plans-and-precommitment-2_b_1169062.html" target="_hplink">the events I was looking forward to this year in space</a> and astronomy news, starting with the <a href="http://solarsystem.nasa.gov/grail/home.cfm" target="_hplink">twin GRAIL probes</a> entering orbit around the moon on New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. The mission certainly didn't disappoint -- my father and I were huddled around the computer watching the live animation of the probes' movements, provided by the excellent Eyes on the Solar System program, watching the "distance" and "speed" figures shrink, and listening to the communications chatter from the control room. When the GRAILs were safely in their orbits, we celebrated.<br />
<br />
A few weeks later, I found myself in a rather unenviable position, out getting lunch at the Student Union without my laptop just minutes before the press conference announcing the winners of <a href="http://solarsystem.nasa.gov/grail/namingcontest.cfm" target="_hplink">the contest to name the probes</a> that had been held for schoolchildren across the country. I got the press conference up on my smartphone, but without headphones, I couldn't hear a thing in the noisy cafeteria! I hurried downstairs and found a quiet spot in a room that wasn't in use, just in time to hear the announcement.<br />
<br />
The winning class held up cards, revealing their chosen names letter-by-letter, cheerleader-style:<br />
<br />
"What does that spell? EBB and FLOW!"<br />
<br />
Like most of the space fans watching, I approved of the names -- since the probes were mapping the moon's gravity, and the moon's gravity creates tides on Earth, the tidal theme was very appropriate. The names were opposite, but connected, perfect for twin spacecraft and in addition -- they just sounded kind of cute!<br />
<br />
Back in September, when <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/reading-the-history-of-the-universe_b_1908229.html" target="_hplink">I went to hear Dr. Charles Elachi speak</a>, I ran into <a href="http://eapsweb.mit.edu/people/zuber" target="_hplink">Maria Zuber</a>, the top scientist on the GRAIL mission, and asked her if it would be possible to meet up and do an interview for my blog at some point in the future. The 24th was the first day she was available, as her work keeps her pretty busy (as you'll see), so I packed my tape recorder and caught a cab to MIT. After a little trouble finding the building, we sat down and started to talk. Our conversation went on for about 45 minutes, so I had to split it into two parts. The first part appears here... </em><br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I feel bad that I wasn't able to interview you last time [<em>we first corresponded last fall, when the GRAIL probes were launched</em>], but now the mission has actually been going on, so I'm sure you'll have more to talk about.<br />
<br />
<strong>Maria Zuber (MZ):</strong> Well, some people like to talk about what they hope they're going to do. I tend -- when I have something, that's when I'm ready to talk. (laughs)<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> So this is more comfortable for you?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Well, it is, yeah, because I've never been one to toot my horn unless there's something to toot about. So when you hear from me, we've got the stuff.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> OK, so why don't you start off by stating your name and what you do?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> OK -- Maria Zuber, I'm a Professor of Geophysics at MIT and I'm the Principal Investigator on the GRAIL mission. That stands for Gravity Recovery And Interior Laboratory. The mission launched last September 10th -- successfully, thank goodness. When the Apollo missions went to the moon, they went on a three-day trajectory to get to the moon. And what we decided to do was something called a low-energy trajectory. So we went out to <a href="http://www.esa.int/esaSC/SEMM17XJD1E_index_0.html" target="_hplink">the Earth-Sun Lagrange Point</a>, which is the place where gravity -- <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> It's cancelled out.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> -- yeah, gravity vanishes, it's balanced between the earth-moon system and the sun. And the reason that we did that is that we were able to use very little fuel to get into lunar orbit. So we launched [both spacecrafts] on a single rocket and then each spacecraft only had to slow down by 190 meters per second to get captured by the moon's gravity. And so, that meant we could launch two spacecrafts on a single rocket rather than using two rockets, and so we actually saved 150 million dollars by going to the moon in three months instead of three days. That was a very clever thing by our mission design team.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> How does that compare to the looping that the LRO [Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter] did, the <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/LRO/main/index.html" target="_hplink">LRO</a> and <a href="http://lcross.arc.nasa.gov/" target="_hplink">LCROSS</a> missions? I remember that they went very far away from the earth and moon and then came back in.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> They got into a big, looping orbit around the moon. This is a much lower one. Essentially, we went into a parking orbit around the Earth and just gave the spacecraft a little nudge to get them going towards the Lagrange Point.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Because it's space.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Yup.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> [In the microgravity of space] things just keep going where they're pushed.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Yes. The way that you get into orbit around a planet is that you slow down enough so that the gravity field of the planet can capture you. So to only have to slow down 190 meters per second is pretty good. We could have a nice small fuel tank. <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I think it's incredible that we know orbital mechanics well enough now to do all of these different things, these maneuvers and to have so many different ways to do these things based on the mechanical and mission requirements.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> For the mechanical design of our mission, we were just so fortunate to have really, really good mission designers. These two spacecrafts together have so far done 55 propulsive maneuvers since they were launched, which is (laughs) --a lot! Most spacecrafts will do just a handful. We've done 55 in the course of about a year. When a spacecraft first gets into orbit, it will often do just a big elliptical orbit, which is what LRO did around the moon, and then you do a burn, to take energy out of the orbit, and that brings the orbit down to the point we want to map at. <br />
<br />
We did eight burns per spacecraft, to bring these spacecraft down to their lower orbits, and then we had to do a bunch of tiny burns to line them up. We could have done big burns, but by doing these little burns it built in some resiliency, because we could miss any given one and it wasn't critical, we could make it up the next time if we missed one. We didn't miss any, but because we were doing it so slowly, we could assess very accurately what our orbit was. We didn't waste any fuel, we could do it extremely precisely by doing all of these little burns. <br />
<br />
Personally, I've been very involved in every aspect of the mission, so I either go out to Lockheed, where they operate the spacecraft, or to JPL, where they run the mission, or I'm on the phone with them while all of this is going on, so during our extended mission right now, I'm on the phone three-to-five hours a day, either doing maneuvers or planning maneuvers or assessing maneuvers. And I think to myself, "Was it really a good idea to do this?" (Laughs) <br />
<br />
But it was! It was! It's taken a lot of time, but we're getting absolutely the most out of this mission that we can.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> What have you learned so far from these probes?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Well, I have to be careful about what I say here, because we have three papers in review in <em>Science</em> [magazine] and they're embargoed, so I can't talk to the press about results too much yet. Although, I'll be happy to talk to you about results in a couple of months. (Smiles)<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Oh, sure, sure, I understand. I just meant vaguely.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Well, I can tell you <em>generally </em>what we've done in terms of gravity field research, and then I'll tell you what we're doing right now. We haven't produced our best [map of the moon's] gravity field yet, but so far we've produced the best gravity field map for any planetary body in the solar system, and the best one that there will be for any known time to come. <br />
<br />
This is because we can go low. In the primary mission, the two spacecrafts -- it's probably worth stopping to explain that these two spacecrafts measure gravity by measuring the distance change between them. So that's the reason we need two spacecrafts. The way we normally track the gravity field of planets is to track one spacecraft in orbit around that planet from earth, but we don't see the back side of the moon from earth, so we have to have two spacecrafts that can track each other like that.<br />
<br />
We orbited at an average altitude of 55 kilometers above the moon, and you can't do that with earth, because the atmospheric drag doesn't allow you to orbit at that distance.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Fifty-five kilometers up isn't even space! [<em>The <a href="http://www.fai.org/icare-records/100km-altitude-boundary-for-astronautics" target="_hplink">K&aacute;rm&aacute;n Line</a>, the edge of Earth's atmosphere and the beginning of space, is defined as 100 kilometers, or 62 miles, above sea level. This means that from my dorm room here in Boston, outer space is actually closer than Cape Cod. Something to think about.</em>]<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Right, you have to be at at least 200 kilometers to orbit the Earth, often higher. In the primary mission, we produced a gravity field map with a spatial resolution size on the surface of 13 kilometers, which is pretty amazing for a global model. And right now, we're in an extended mission that's going to end in December. We have learned the gravity field well enough that in the extended mission we can operate at an even lower altitude.<br />
<br />
I asked my mission designers, "How low can we go and still map safely?" We're currently mapping the moon at half that altitude, so 22-and-a-half kilometers average altitude above the moon. Last week, we got within 7.6 kilometers of the moon. So while the average altitude is 22-and-a-half kilometers, the orbit goes elliptical very quickly because the moon's gravity field is so bumpy, especially when you get down low. You get bounced all over the place by the gravity field. So the high point of the orbit is about 28 kilometers and the low point was 7.6. And it will get lower as the course of the mission goes on. [<em>Astute aerospace fans will have noted that 28 kilometers is not only far short of the K&aacute;rm&aacute;n Line but actually lower than Felix Baumgartner's <a href="http://www.universetoday.com/97956/baumgarter-survives-heart-pounding-record-setting-freefall/" target="_hplink">recent stratospheric skydive</a>.</em>]<br />
<br />
So the fact that you can orbit around a planet --<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Yes.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> -- with two spacecrafts flying in precise formation and measure the distance changes between them to better than a tenth of a micron per second, which is about the same as a human blood cell. We can do that extremely precisely, and we do it five times per second. <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> When they're at that lowest point now, if you were on the surface of the moon, would they be visible overhead?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Oh, hmmm, well, let's see... so the two spacecrafts are about the size of an apartment-sized washer and dryer, so they're small. So when they're at seven kilometers, that's about the height that commercial airplanes fly on Earth. So you probably couldn't see each one of them, but they're getting close to the size you could see. <br />
<br />
At the very, very end of the mission, I have further challenged my engineering team to see if we can go lower, and we're in the process of planning that. The goal here was to get enough gravity information at as low an altitude as we could, so that we could study the mass distribution inside the planet. By flying really low, we can measure very small mass variations. On Earth, if you wanted to measure similar things, you would have to fly over with an airplane or tow similar equipment on the ground. <br />
<br />
Some of the early surface gravity measurements on Earth were taken by the army as they trudged around with a hand-held gravimeter, and they were measuring that kind of thing. By doing it from orbit, you can measure much more precisely than you can by dragging something around in the field.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I'm an archeological remote sensing major, so this is very, very relevant. I think it's really great that there are techniques and technologies that are developed for one branch of science that are so transferable to others. And it's so useful, to be able to apply that to other fields and to other questions that you might have in the future.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> One of the really exciting things about this is that in the Earth Sciences, we study the interior of the planets using geophysical techniques. We do seismology, we do magnetics, we do gravity, and that kind of information is usually at a much larger scale than when we study the surface. People go out and do fieldwork, they lug equipment around, and by getting these measurements at low-altitude, we can map at high-resolution and the geophysics is really entering the realm of geology. <br />
<br />
In fact, we gave an update on the data we're collecting at a lunar meeting this week, and <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/schmitt-hh.html" target="_hplink">Jack Schmidt</a>, the astronaut from <em>Apollo 17</em>, he was -- <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> A geologist who was on the moon.<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> -- he was the <em>only</em> geologist who walked on the surface of the moon. And he said, "Hey, we collected some surface gravity data at the <em>Apollo 17</em> landing site, we should compare our data to your data from orbit!" (laughs) And I said, "You know what, we could do that now." It makes sense to do this now, so that's something that we're really looking forward to doing.<br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> Do you think that there would be changes over forty years? Or would that only be on a planet that was geologically active?<br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> The moon is not geologically active. I would not expect to see changes, but one thing I would say is never say never. There could be changes on the moon, they would be very tiny, so there are moonquakes that occur every month. The moon raises tides on the earth and we see the results on earth, but the earth raises tides on the solid moon, and that produces moonquakes. <br />
<br />
So we consider the moon to be a geologically inactive planet, but recent orbiters have detected that there's a monthly water cycle on the moon. There's a micron-thick layer of hydroxyl that gets activated when the sun shines on it and the molecules bounce around and then when the Sun goes down, they drop to the surface. So with remote sensing in orbit, you would see a very, very tiny signal of water on the surface that disappears when the sun is shining on it. So we think of the moon as being inactive, but there are some things that change.<br />
<br />
So one of the things that has been exciting about studying the moon is the discovery of water, particularly in the Polar Regions. And we're down low enough that we can actually try to look for subsurface ice signatures in some of the polar craters. If there's enough water there, we would see something unusual in those craters. <br />
<br />
That'll be something that we're looking for, but it takes very long to process this data. <br />
<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> I know that on earth they've used gravity data to find places where there is water underground. With the <a href="http://www.csr.utexas.edu/grace/" target="_hplink">GRACE</a> mission, they did that. <br />
<br />
<strong>MZ:</strong> Sure. The GRACE mission on Earth, which is also a dual-spacecraft mission, looks at river discharge and aquifers. You can actually see water replenishing in the aquifer during the rainy season and being discharged in the dry season. We don't think the moon has nearly that much water, so we wouldn't expect to see changes in ice content, but what we would be looking for is anomalously low densities in polar craters that are much different than similar craters away from the poles. <br />
<br />
<em>Stay tuned for Part 2 of our interview, in which Professor Zuber describes the joy of discovering "Something No One Else Has Ever Known"...</em>]]></content>
    <link href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/452749/thumbs/s-NASA-GRAIL-PROBES-mini.jpg" type="image/jpeg" rel="enclosure"/>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Reading the History of the Universe</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/reading-the-history-of-the-universe_b_1908229.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1908229</id>
    <published>2012-09-25T15:49:07-04:00</published>
    <updated>2012-11-25T05:12:01-05:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[When I got an email saying that Dr. Charles Elachi would be speaking at MIT on September 17th, I knew I didn't want to miss it.]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[Last year, I got to go to a lot of <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/thinking-in-three-dimensi_b_1425775.html" target="_hplink">really</a> <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/international-space-station_b_1155679.html" target="_hplink">cool</a> <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/thinking-our-way-to-the-m_b_1077382.html" target="_hplink">events</a> at MIT, hosted by their Aero/Astro department, so when the opportunity came a few weeks ago to sign up for the department's mailing list and get messages about upcoming events, I did so eagerly. I didn't have to wait very long for my first message and I recognized the guest speaker's name at once. <br />
<br />
As I mentioned in <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/letter-to-gale-crater_b_1823130.html" target="_hplink">my post about watching the <em>Curiosity</em> landing at NASA Headquarters</a>, while most of the space enthusiasts who had come to see the landing left after the first photos from the rover came in, I waited around with a few others for <a href="http://www.parabolicarc.com/2012/08/06/video-curiosity-post-landing-press-conference/" target="_hplink">the press conference</a> at 3:00 a.m. Eastern time. <br />
<br />
"Live from NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California --" A JPL employee announced as the conference started.<br />
<br />
"-- this is Monday morning!" I shouted, which all of us found hysterical because we'd been awake for more than 15 hours and were still manic over the successful landing. <br />
<br />
The group in Pasadena seemed to be as excited as we were, cheering as the panel members took the stage. Just when I'd thought that night couldn't get any better, we were going to hear from the landing team!<br />
<br />
But the first one to speak was JPL Director <a href="http://www.jpl.nasa.gov/about/bio_elachi.cfm" target="_hplink">Charles Elachi</a>, who found exactly the right words to warm our emotionally-charged hearts:<br />
<br />
"Good evening, everybody, and welcome to Mars!... About an hour and a half ago, I went outside and looked toward the west. And I saw Mars there and I said, 'In an hour and a half, you are going to have a visitor.' And the planet smiled, and I knew that we were going to have good luck."<br />
<br />
A spontaneous "Awwwwww" broke out in among our group in D.C. <br />
<br />
A few minutes later, after White House Science Advisor <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Holdren" target="_hplink">John Holdren</a> and my friend, NASA Administrator <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/about/highlights/bolden_bio.html" target="_hplink">Charles Bolden</a>, had spoken, Dr. Elachi topped himself by inviting the whole entry, descent and landing team inside to receive applause because the mission had been a team effort. <br />
<br />
What a nice guy, I thought, smiling.<br />
<br />
So, when the email said that Dr. Charles Elachi would be speaking at MIT on September 17th, I knew I didn't want to miss it. The weather was perfect as I walked down the Esplanade to the Massachusetts Avenue Bridge, and I reached the MIT campus with more than an hour to go until the lecture started. I decided to go to their student union to get some lunch and directions to the building, which was one I'd never been to before. <br />
<br />
The students I talked to said that the Wong Auditorium was "on the other side of campus," towards the Longfellow Bridge, but it was only a 15 minute walk. I got to the building with time to eat lunch before finding a seat in the auditorium. Surprisingly, that wasn't very hard -- it was 2 p.m., and a lot of students were in classes, so there were only people in the first two rows of seats! Everybody got to sit up close, and I ran into a girl who'd been at the <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/space-means-business_b_1490973.html" target="_hplink">Space: The Business Frontier conference at Harvard</a> back in April.<br />
<br />
Dr. Elachi was introduced by another space notable -- <a href="http://web.mit.edu/newsoffice/2009/profile-zuber-091809.html" target="_hplink">Maria Zuber</a>, Principal Investigator on the <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/grail/main/index.html" target="_hplink">GRAIL moon mission</a>, and an MIT professor. He began his presentation with a few slides showing the history of the Universe. The Big Bang, the formation of stars and galaxies, the birth of our solar system and the planet Earth, the rise of life, and finally... photographs of two college campuses?<br />
<br />
"It took 13.7 billion years to get MIT! And Caltech, too." (Caltech is the home of JPL.)<br />
<br />
Humor aside, he said that these slides emphasized a big part of the mission of space scientists -- learning to read "the history book of the Universe." <br />
<br />
The most obvious way in which JPL is carrying out that mission at present is through the <em>Curiosity</em> mission, attempting to understand the environmental history of Mars. Mars is a big place to explore, Dr. Elachi mentioned, with as much surface area as all of the dry land on Earth. However, its similarities to Earth make it intriguing -- he showed two photographs of similar landscapes and asked us to guess which picture showed Mars and which showed Death Valley.<br />
<br />
"The truth is... I forget! They look so similar!" He revealed, making us laugh.<br />
<br />
The <em>Curiosity</em> rover builds on JPL's previous Mars rover missions, starting with the lunchbox-sized <em>Sojourner</em> in 1997 -- a demonstration of the rover technology. The <em>Spirit</em> and <em>Opportunity</em> rovers that followed in 2004 were much larger, and functioned as robotic geologists, while <em>Curiosity</em> is larger still and the equivalent of a laboratory chemist on the surface of Mars -- hence her official name, the Mars Science Laboratory.<br />
<br />
Most people only became aware of <em>Curiosity</em> when it launched, but it was the culmination of eight years of total work for JPL and six years of testing. On the night of the landing, Dr. Elachi said his greatest worry had been that the supersonic parachute designed to slow the rover down would have malfunctioned or ripped. Six of the engineers in the control room had been MIT graduates, including Flight Director <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobak_Ferdowsi" target="_hplink">Bobak Ferdowski</a> <a href="http://fuckyeahbobakferdowsi.tumblr.com/" target="_hplink">of Internet fame</a>.<br />
<br />
Aside from the engineers in Pasadena and the group I'd been part of at NASA HQ, it was estimated that 50 million people had been watching <em>Curiosity</em>'s landing, and shortly afterward, the official mission website had gotten 1.8 billion hits (that's <em>billion</em>, with a "b".) While <em>Curiosity</em> had mostly laid low the first two weeks as the engineers made sure everything was working, by last Monday, when Dr. Elachi talked to us, she had driven 150 meters, and he told us that the control team expected to use the rover's drill for the first time in about 2 1/2 weeks. <br />
<br />
<em>Curiosity</em>'s mission, Dr. Elachi reminded us, was truly ambitious -- going from her landing site to the top of Mount Sharp was like landing on the beach in Hawaii and driving up Mauna Kea to the <a href="http://www.ifa.hawaii.edu/mko/" target="_hplink">observatory at the top</a>!<br />
<br />
"Our generation has put tracks on Mars. It looks different now than it ever did before."<br />
<br />
However, as celebrated as JPL's missions to Mars are, they're only 15 percent of the center's total work. The <a href="http://saturn.jpl.nasa.gov/" target="_hplink"><em>Cassini</em> mission</a> has been exploring Saturn since 2004, not just the gas planet itself, but also its moons and rings. The process of collisions within Saturn's rings and the ways that the moons and rings interact may provide an insight into what it's like in young solar systems, with debris coming together to form planets. <br />
<br />
Enceladus, one of Saturn's moons, is icy and exciting, with huge trenches and geysers on its frozen surface -- and possibly an ocean beneath it! Titan, another of the moons, is the only moon in our solar system with an atmosphere, and has a liquid cycle much like the water cycle on Earth -- except with hydrocarbons in place of water. <br />
<br />
One planet in from Saturn, the <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/juno/main/index.html" target="_hplink"><em>Juno</em> probe</a> launched last year will study Jupiter's atmosphere once it arrives in 2016. Like Saturn, Jupiter also has some interesting moons, most famously Europa, a frozen world with the same questions of possible subsurface oceans as Enceladus. <br />
<br />
The <a href="http://dawn.jpl.nasa.gov/" target="_hplink"><em>Dawn</em> mission</a> is currently cruising through the asteroid belt, in transit between Vesta and Ceres. The <a href="http://dawn.jpl.nasa.gov/mission/ion_prop.asp" target="_hplink">electric propulsion method</a> used by this space probe makes travel between these two asteroids slow, but it provides a lot of "kick" in return for only a little energy expended.<br />
<br />
Moving in closer yet, to the nearest celestial object to Earth, the twin GRAIL probes that Dr. Zuber works on have been studying the Moon all year, mapping subtle variations in the Moon's gravity that reveal secrets of its internal structure. The similar <a href="http://www.csr.utexas.edu/grace/" target="_hplink">GRACE mission</a> does the same thing with the Earth. On Earth, gravity fields can be used to map the locations of water, helping reveal needed subsurface water in drought-stricken areas. <br />
<br />
With that, Dr. Elachi ended his presentation, having taken us from Mars out to Saturn, and finally back to Earth. He turned it over to the audience for questions.<br />
<br />
I asked Dr. Elachi how he had become interested in space exploration. He said that when he was growing up in Lebanon, he had always been interested in science, and always knew he wanted to be some kind of scientist. When he came to Caltech for college, he learned about JPL's space exploration projects and decided he would work for them for a year after graduating... and 40 years later, here he is! "I get paid for doing explorations!" He gushed.<br />
<br />
One man wanted to know how the work done at JPL compared to the projects other NASA Centers are involved in. Dr. Elachi explained that each Center has its own particular specialization -- JPL's is robotics, while the Kennedy Space Center specializes in launch operations, the Johnson Space Center is the location of astronaut training and the primary control center for human spaceflight, etc.... <br />
<br />
Another listener had heard that <em>Curiosity</em>'s great size required special precautions during the landing, and wanted to know if the increasing size and complexity of robotic spacecraft made missions more difficult. <br />
<br />
Certainly, Dr. Elachi said, with greater experience in controlling robots on other planets, scientists and engineers are attempting more complicated missions than in the past. But not every spacecraft needs to be large or loaded with instruments.<br />
<br />
"There are two questions we have to answer: What is the objective? And what tools do we need to achieve it?" For example, since the GRAIL probes are primarily designed to study the Moon's gravity, most of their instruments are designed with that mission in mind. There are other probes studying the Moon that can gather other kinds of data about it, so the GRAILs only need to focus on gravity mapping.  <br />
<br />
After the questions, some of us came down to shake hands with Dr. Elachi and asked if we could take pictures with him.<br />
<br />
"Oh, but I don't have my Mohawk!" He joked. We laughed, both because it was a funny mental image and because he didn't need one. When it comes to standing out, kindness and a sense of humor works just as well.]]></content>
    <link href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/746210/thumbs/s-CURIOSITY-ROVER-mini.jpg" type="image/jpeg" rel="enclosure"/>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Onward to the Stars!</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/onward-to-the-stars_b_1888899.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1888899</id>
    <published>2012-09-19T16:13:49-04:00</published>
    <updated>2012-11-19T05:12:02-05:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[Last week was my first full week of my sophomore year of college and thus, as you can probably imagine, pretty busy. As busy as I was, though, I still found the time to honor two prominent historical anniversaries.]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[Last week was my first full week of my sophomore year of college and thus, as you can probably imagine, pretty busy. As busy as I was, though, I still found the time to honor two prominent historical anniversaries. Tuesday, of course, was the 11th anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001, but the following day marked a lesser-known anniversary. <br />
<br />
The date "September 12th, 1962" doesn't conjure up immediate recognition, and mentioning "President John F. Kennedy's speech at Rice University" may not help very much. But if I quote from that <a href="http://er.jsc.nasa.gov/seh/ricetalk.htm" target="_hplink">speech</a>, you'll definitely recognize it:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon -- we choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.</blockquote><br />
<br />
In casual conversation, we sometimes hear people mentioning "JFK's moon speech," but President Kennedy actually gave two famous speeches about traveling to the moon that are sometimes conflated (as well as several less-famous ones). More than a year before his speech at Rice, Kennedy had proposed the goal of landing on the moon <a href="http://www.jfklibrary.org/Research/Ready-Reference/JFK-Speeches/Special-Message-to-the-Congress-on-Urgent-National-Needs-May-25-1961.aspx" target="_hplink">before Congress</a> in words that are also immediately recognizable:<br />
<br />
"I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the Earth."<br />
<br />
We're familiar with those quotes from hearing them in documentaries, movies, and news programs, and I sometimes find myself reciting them in tune with Kennedy inadvertently when I hear them there, just because I've seen them so many times. <br />
<br />
But Wednesday was the first time I was able to listen to the <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/topics/history/features/jfk_rice_speech_50th.html#.UE9c0EWWNco.twitter" target="_hplink">entire Rice speech</a>, and I was surprised I hadn't done so sooner. Hearing the speech in full and not as a few selected quotes revealed more historical background, humor and some great passages that were quotable in their own right. <br />
<br />
First of all, I hadn't known that then-NASA-Administrator <a href="http://history.nasa.gov/Biographies/webb.html" target="_hplink">James Webb</a> had been there at Rice, but at the beginning of his speech, Kennedy addresses "Mr. Webb" along with the other dignitaries present. That's a small thing, but <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/the-fire-of-adventure_b_1717538.html" target="_hplink">it's always cool to discover</a> some little bit of history you didn't know about before.<br />
<br />
Second, I didn't know that President Kennedy had made several jokes in his speech! I chuckled at the one he made in the very first line of the speech proper: "I appreciate your president having made me an honorary visiting professor, and I will assure you that my first lecture will be very brief." Later on, he described the heat of re-entry as "about half that of the temperature of the sun -- almost as hot as it is here today". (I haven't been to Texas in September, but I was in Alabama in July for Space Academy, and it certainly felt like I was on the surface of the sun! Not that I didn't enjoy myself there anyway... )<br />
<br />
The beginning of Kennedy's speech is just as powerful as the more-quoted-middle:<br />
<br />
<blockquote><p>The greater our knowledge increases, the greater our ignorance unfolds.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Despite the striking fact that most of the scientists that the world has ever known are alive and working today, despite the fact that this Nation's own scientific manpower is doubling every 12 years in a rate of growth more than three times that of our population as a whole, despite that, the vast stretches of the unknown and the unanswered and the unfinished still far outstrip our collective comprehension.</p></blockquote><br />
<br />
And then, a very striking visualization of human history:<br />
<br />
<blockquote><p>No man can fully grasp how far and how fast we have come, but condense, if you will, the 50,000 years of man's recorded history in a time span of but a half-century. Stated in these terms, we know very little about the first 40 years, except at the end of them advanced man had learned to use the skins of animals to cover them.</p> <br />
<br />
<p>Then about 10 years ago, under this standard, man emerged from his caves to construct other kinds of shelter.</p> <br />
<br />
<p>Only five years ago man learned to write and use a cart with wheels. Christianity began less than two years ago.</p> <br />
<br />
<p>The printing press came this year, and then less than two months ago, during this whole 50-year span of human history, the steam engine provided a new source of power.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Newton explored the meaning of gravity. Last month electric lights and telephones and automobiles and airplanes became available.</p> <br />
<br />
<p>Only last week did we develop penicillin and television and nuclear power, and now if America's new spacecraft succeeds in reaching Venus, we will have literally reached the stars before midnight tonight.</p></blockquote><br />
<br />
The spacecraft Kennedy was talking about was <a href="http://nssdc.gsfc.nasa.gov/nmc/spacecraftDisplay.do?id=1962-041A" target="_hplink"><em>Mariner 2</em></a>, which had been launched just over two weeks before, on August 27th, 1962. It completed a successful flyby in December of that year. Kennedy mentions <em>Mariner</em> again later on in his speech: "The <i>Mariner</i> spacecraft now on its way to Venus is the most intricate instrument in the history of space science. The accuracy of that shot is comparable to firing a missile from Cape Canaveral and dropping it in this stadium between the 40-yard lines."<br />
<br />
From the portions of the speech I'd heard before, I hadn't known that Kennedy had talked about <em>Mariner</em> at all, or that it had been traveling through space as he spoke. But seeing this, hearing him talk about that "current event" in space science, made the speech more meaningful for me, helping me imagine the time in which it was delivered. <br />
<br />
Being a student myself, it was easy to superimpose these events onto the schedule of a college semester. If I were one of the Rice students... I would have watched the <em>Mariner</em> launch just before leaving home to come back to campus... I would be thrilled to be taking some time off from my busy first week to see the president... and I would be looking forward to reading about <em>Mariner</em>'s discoveries at Venus just before finals began!<br />
<br />
And I would have known the president was talking to me when he said: "And this will be done in the decade of the sixties. It may be done while some of you are still here at school at this college and university. It will be done during the term of office of some of the people who sit here on this platform. But it will be done."<br />
<br />
The <em>Mariner</em> reference also shows that while we remember the Rice speech as talking about going to the moon, President Kennedy also talked about other projects the space program was undertaking, and considered them to be important to the country as well, discussing how navigation and weather satellites were helping improve commerce and everyday living. <br />
<br />
Hearing the speech in full was definitely a rewarding experience -- it made it feel newer, fresher and more inspiring than hearing just the same old quotes I'd heard so many times before. And, in the spirit of another famous Kennedy speech, I asked myself what I could do to honor these great words and the monumental achievement they had inspired. <br />
<br />
I should go to the <a href="http://www.jfklibrary.org/" target="_hplink">Kennedy Presidential Library</a> at UMass on Saturday! I thought. I had wanted to go anyway, to see Alan Shepard's <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/externalflash/shepard50/" target="_hplink"><em>Freedom 7</em></a> spacecraft on display, and what better time than this week?<br />
<br />
I had visited the JFK Library with my father last year when he'd come to visit, and it was just as beautiful as I remembered, an I. M. Pei-designed black glass cube set on a point of land that stuck out into the harbor, with nearly uninterrupted views of the sea and city skyline. The weather was perfect, so, before heading inside, I walked down the steps to the area right near the water to take in the view. <em>Victura</em>, a sailboat used by the Kennedy family when vacationing on Cape Cod, sat next to a flagpole, behind a small stone barrier. I paused for a moment to listen to the sound of the waves breaking on the rocks.<br />
<br />
As Kennedy was a former Naval officer and an enthusiastic sailor, it had been important to his family that the library be located near the sea, and the museum's location happens to overlook the channel into Boston Harbor that his ancestors passed through when immigrating from Ireland to the United States. This even, I thought, showed up in the Rice speech, where he had referred to outer space as being a "new ocean."<br />
<br />
I headed inside and bought a ticket at the front desk. I decided to skip the introductory film, which I'd already seen, so I could get to <em>Freedom 7</em> as soon as I could. The galleries proper begin with the 1960 Democratic National Convention with Kennedy's announcement as his party's official candidate. The campaign gallery cleverly simulates walking down a street during the lead-in to the election, with old televisions in a store window displaying campaign ads for both sides, and reproduction newspapers in old newspaper kiosks.<br />
<br />
The "Space Program" gallery had been moved since I last visited, it was now the second room in the "White House Corridor" covering the events of Kennedy's presidency. And in the back of the room, there was the <em>Freedom 7</em> capsule, behind a glass wall, with a panoramic photo of its launch as a backdrop! <br />
<br />
Even without the backdrop or the other displays in the room, I would have recognized it as similar to the other Mercury capsules I'd seen in museums: black, roughly bell-shaped and small, built to carry one cramped-in astronaut into space for a few hours -- or, in Shepard's pioneering first flight, only 15 minutes. (I've joked that a Mercury capsule is just the right size for a teenage girl -- it's the adult men in spacesuits who must have been cramped!)<br />
<br />
After taking a lot of pictures, I examined the other displays in the room. There were photographs of <em>Freedom 7</em>'s recovery, the <em>Washington Post</em>'s front page from the day of the flight, a very cool photograph of President Kennedy, First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy and Vice President Johnson watching the flight anxiously on a television in the White House, and vintage<em> LIFE </em>magazine photographs of the Mercury astronauts suiting up and hanging out.  ("The silver-suited, techno-speaking astronauts who blasted into space with incredible coolness," as the museum plaque put it.)<br />
<br />
Appropriately enough, a video featuring clips from the Rice speech and footage of the Mercury program was playing continuously in the gallery--sadly, though, it was mostly just the better-known clips and not the full speech--and some of the president's notes for the speech were right there in a case. Wow! I'd certainly come to the right place to celebrate the anniversary of the speech!<br />
<br />
After seeing everything in the Space Exploration room, I wandered throughout the rest of the exhibits. The exhibits about the Civil Rights Movement felt even more poignant after having studied the speeches of Martin Luther King in my writing class the semester before. The archeologist and museum nerd in me was pleased to find a display about the Kennedy Administration's role in relocating the ancient Egyptian temples that had been threatened by the construction of the Aswan High Dam, including the <a href="http://www.ancient-egypt.co.uk/metropolitan/pages/metropolitan_ny%20770.htm" target="_hplink">Temple of Dendur</a>, now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. <br />
<br />
The end of the museum is very moving -- the room dealing with Kennedy's assassination is dark, with a bank of television screens showing news footage of how the assassination was reported. Moving to the end of the room, you see Kennedy's quote: "A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on," and then turn a corner into the room about his legacy. And almost exactly where you come out into the "Legacy" room, you see a screen playing footage of the <em>Apollo 11</em> moon landing, newspapers announcing the landing, and an actual moonrock. In the words that were displayed on a computer screen in the control room at the Johnson Space Center just after that first moonwalk: "Task accomplished, July 1969."<br />
<br />
I'll admit it, I got a bit misty. <br />
<br />
There's a guestbook in that final room, in which visitors are encouraged to record their impressions of their visit. I wrote my name and address, then paused for a moment, trying to think of something appropriate to write...<br />
<br />
"On the 50th anniversary of the Rice speech -- Onward to the stars!"]]></content>
    <link href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/655043/thumbs/s-JFK-SCHLESINGER-mini.jpg" type="image/jpeg" rel="enclosure"/>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Letter to Gale Crater</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/letter-to-gale-crater_b_1823130.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1823130</id>
    <published>2012-08-24T15:27:56-04:00</published>
    <updated>2012-10-24T05:12:11-04:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[The story of our exploration of Mars is being written every day, and I look forward to seeing what you add, Curiosity!]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[To: <br />
Curiosity MSL<br />
Bradbury Landing, near base of Mount Sharp<br />
Gale Crater<br />
Aeolis Quadrangle<br />
Mars<br />
<br />
Dear Curiosity, <br />
<br />
I'm sorry for not writing sooner. Like you, I was spending the past two weeks recovering from my big trip, getting settled, taking lots of pictures and spending some much-welcome time resting and focusing on my health before moving on to other things. And, as I'm sure you're aware, time never flies faster than when you're trying to relax! (Also, August days are half as short as those of any other month. At least on Earth.) But now, you've <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/msl/news/msl20120822.html" target="_hplink">taken your first steps</a>, and I've gotten back to my writing.<br />
<br />
But don't think I've forgotten you. <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/curiosity-mars-rover_b_1114242.html" target="_hplink">We're friends</a>, after all! I've been visiting the NASA website every day to look at your <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/images/content/676029main_pia16052-color-full_full.jpg" target="_hplink">photos</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&amp;v=vVLPXfF3l_U" target="_hplink">videos</a>. (As well as the nice music videos some of your other friends have made about you -- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFvNhsWMU0c" target="_hplink">this one</a> is hilarious and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av2H9IlP4e4" target="_hplink">this one</a> is what I think of every time the song from it comes on the radio!)<br />
<br />
At first, I wasn't sure how I was going to get to see your arrival on Mars -- I was supposed to leave D.C. the day before, and while my parents and I talked about flying to California for a day to watch at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, the logistics just weren't friendly. Then, two NASA scientists gave a presentation about your mission for Congressional staff, and they mentioned that there would be a live-stream of the event at NASA Headquarters on the night of the landing. I made plans to stay an extra night in Washington, but I wasn't sure how I'd get to and from Headquarters in the middle of the night after the Metro stopped running.<br />
<br />
Finally, we remembered that there was a hotel across the street from NASA HQ, so I made a reservation to stay there for one night. <br />
<br />
So, on Sunday morning, I loaded my suitcases into a taxi at the BU dorm and headed for the Residence Inn in Federal Center Southwest. I showed up a little before check-in time, so I left my bags with the staff and headed to the National Air and Space Museum, because I didn't think I'd have time to visit again the next day.  <br />
<br />
It felt really appropriate wandering among models of your predecessors -- all the way back to the <a href="http://airandspace.si.edu/exhibitions/gal100/viking.html" target="_hplink"><em>Viking</em></a> in 1976!  <br />
<br />
In the Exploring the Planets gallery, I pointed out <a href="http://airandspace.si.edu/research/ceps/etp/mars/explore.html#mer" target="_hplink">a model of your older siblings</a>, the <em>Spirit</em> and <em>Opportunity</em> rovers who came to Mars in 2004, to a family. (There's only one model in the exhibit, and they both look the same, so I don't think the model is supposed to be either one in particular, but for some reason, I think of it as representing <em>Spirit</em>.) <br />
<br />
"There's a robot just like that on Mars right now, exploring the surface. And there's another landing tonight!" I told them.<br />
<br />
"What time tonight? Will it be on the news?" The mother asked, excited by the possibility of watching with her kids.<br />
<br />
"1:31 a.m. D.C. time." I said.<br />
<br />
"Oh. Such a shame it won't be when they'll be awake to see it."<br />
<br />
"You're probably better off looking at the TV news and the papers tomorrow." I told her. I remembered hearing about <em>Spirit</em>'s landing on television the morning after it had landed. <br />
<br />
"Okay, we'll do that!" She told me, and the family moved on to look at something else. <br />
<br />
When I got back to the hotel, I took my suitcases up to my room and went to dinner at a restaurant a few blocks away. Then, I called the front desk to request a wake-up call at 10:30 p.m. <br />
<br />
"Ten-thirty <strong>p.m.</strong>?" The man at the front desk asked, thinking he'd misheard.<br />
<br />
"Yup, ten-thirty <strong>p.m.</strong>. I'm going across the street to watch the <em>Curiosity</em> rover land on Mars and the doors open at 11." I explained.<br />
<br />
"Oh, so that's why everyone is asking for wake-up calls at 10:30 and 11 p.m.!"<br />
<br />
I took a warm shower and crawled into bed, but I don't think I really got any sleep. It wasn't that I was nervous or excited, really, my brain just wasn't used to trying to sleep at 7:45 p.m. and I kept thinking of all sorts of random other things no matter how much I tried to relax because I knew I'd need to be rested to watch your landing.<br />
<br />
When the wake-up call came, I jumped in the shower again to shake the cobwebs from my head, got dressed, and put a NASA insignia temporary tattoo on my arm. (On my own, with cold water, in semi-darkness -- but it came out great!) After making sure I had everything, I headed to the elevator and crossed the street.<br />
<br />
There were a few people sitting on the sidewalk outside the Visitor Entrance when I got there.<br />
<br />
"Are you here for the <em>Curiosity</em> landing?" I asked.<br />
<br />
The group responded with various excited affirmations. <br />
<br />
"Good, then I'm in the right place!" I said.<br />
<br />
"Do you want a Marscake or some peanuts?" One person asked me.<br />
<br />
Marscakes, unlike <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mooncake" target="_hplink">mooncakes</a>, are apparently chocolate cupcakes with red icing and sprinkles, and given my non-consumption of sweets, I politely declined. However, I was happy to have a few peanuts, which the group explained to me <a href="http://news.discovery.com/space/how-jpls-peanut-tradition-started-120815.html" target="_hplink">were a JPL tradition</a>. (I had never heard of this until that moment, although it's amusingly become common knowledge since the landing.)<br />
<br />
I watched two people from the group play "War" with space flashcards (the winner was the one whose spacecraft had the higher number in the "weight" column -- poor <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Telstar" target="_hplink"><em>Telstar 1</em></a> lost to everything), while the rest of us played space songs on our mobile devices. I got the first of many compliments on my temporary tattoo.<br />
<br />
I am among my people, I thought, smiling.<br />
<br />
A short time later, the guards opened the doors and we headed inside, through the lobby and into the auditorium, where the NASA TV landing coverage was being projected onto a large screen. We were offered souvenir folders containing information sheets about your abilities and tools, mission pins, 3-D glasses, and -- to my great joy -- a specially-produced comic book! <br />
<br />
I recognized <a href="http://twitter.com/bnjacobs" target="_hplink">Bob Jacobs</a>, one of my bosses from my internship at the NASA HQ Office of Communications last year, and ran up to say hello. He recognized me as well, and told me he was glad to see me there for the landing.<br />
<br />
"In your professional opinion, should I be worried?" I asked. The problems that the <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-16491457" target="_hplink"><em>Phobos-Grunt</em></a> and <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/2010/dec/08/japan-akatsuki-space-probe-venus" target="_hplink"><em>Akatsuki</em></a> probes had experienced in the past two years had reminded me that while scientists and engineers are much better at sending probes to other planets than they used to be, these missions are ultimately very difficult and success is never assured.<br />
<br />
"About life in general or about MSL?" He replied, making me laugh away my tension. "You shouldn't worry, we've had a 100-percent success rate for landing rovers on Mars so far, and we've been getting much better at Mars in general recently -- NASA hasn't had a failure since the <a href="http://mars.jpl.nasa.gov/msp98/lander/" target="_hplink">Polar Lander</a> back in '99." <br />
<br />
Thus reassured, I found a seat and settled in to watch the feed from the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. On the screen, we could see that the engineers were well-stocked with their own supply of peanuts. The doors opened at 11 p.m., and your spacecraft entered the Martian atmosphere at 1:10 a.m., but the intervening two hours passed far quicker than I expected, watching the feed, cracking jokes and swapping stories. As atmospheric entry got closer and closer, I watched as the NASA TV reporters interviewed several individuals involved with the mission, including <a href="https://twitter.com/ClaraTMa" target="_hplink">Clara Ma</a>, the young woman <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/msl/msl-20090527.html" target="_hplink">responsible for your name</a>. <br />
<br />
Showing my incurable lack of trend-spotting ability, while I noticed <a href="http://www.space.com/17152-mars-rover-mohawk-guy-bobak-ferdowsi.html" target="_hplink">Flight Director Bobak Ferdowski</a>'s now-famous hairstyle, I thought it was attention-grabbing but paid it no special attention. I looked at the room as a whole, taking in all of the faces. <br />
<br />
Most of the interviewees shared my excitement, but a few also mentioned things that could go wrong -- some that I hadn't even thought of! For instance, one engineer told us that if the communications set-up didn't work out, you could have landed perfectly, but it might have been several days before anyone on Earth would know!<br />
<br />
Once your cruise stage was jettisoned, it was "serious" time. I'd been "there" before four years earlier, watching your cousin <em>Phoenix</em> go through the same entry and descent milestones in its own "Seven Minutes of Terror," but that had been in my living room, watching on a desktop computer screen, with nobody else around but my family. It was so different in a big auditorium like this!<br />
<br />
The controllers said that the signal was strong and they could hear your "heartbeat" loud and clear, prompting some cheers in the auditorium. I smiled, but didn't make any noise. I wanted to hear everything that went on, and I didn't want to celebrate until the touchdown signal was received. <br />
<br />
"Seven minutes to entry."<br />
<br />
The reporters did one final interview, in which the controller said that if everything went well, we'd be able to see images very soon after landing. <br />
<br />
"Right now, <em>Curiosity</em>'s still a spacecraft, not really an aircraft yet." He said.<br />
<br />
In the auditorium, most side-conversation stopped. The sounds of people shifting in their seats, typing on keyboards, and coughing became apparent.  <br />
  <br />
"The vehicle has just reported, via tones, that it has started guided entry!" A controller announced.<br />
<br />
It was weird to think that, because of the great distance between Earth and Mars, you were already on the surface by the time we received these first signals -- we just didn't know in what shape!<br />
<br />
"Everything looks fine, and is as expected."<br />
<br />
On my tape recorder, I can hear myself muttering, "OK... OK..." repeatedly as entry and descent proceeded.<br />
<br />
"We're flying almost horizontally, like a plane."<br />
<br />
"Mach 2.4, at an altitude of 17 kilometers up."<br />
<br />
I watched the screen intently, although it showed only the blue-shirted controllers staring at their own computer screens, even more nervous than we in the auditorium were! There was no way to get a view of your vehicle as it must have looked, streaking through the butterscotch Martian sky like an oversized meteor.<br />
<br />
"Fifteen kilometers altitude."<br />
<br />
"Parachute deployed. Parachute deployment." <br />
<br />
"Yesss." Someone in the auditorium whispered. More clapping, although I refrained again. It wasn't over until touchdown.<br />
<br />
"We are decelerating." <br />
<br />
"Standing by in preparation for powered flight."<br />
<br />
My toes could fall off right now and I wouldn't even realize it, I thought.<br />
<br />
"We are in powered flight." Again, no view-from-Mars was possible, but I'd seen the conceptual animations frequently enough to know what this looked like in my mind's eye -- your special jetpack firing to gently lower you towards the Martian surface.<br />
<br />
"Standing by for Skycrane." This was it. The unknown, the unprecedented. You were separating from your jetpack and being lowered gently to the ground on cables. <br />
<br />
<em>Phoenix</em>, like the <em>Vikings</em> before it, had been a stationary lander, built with jets on its underside that let it descend all the way to the surface with them firing. But a wheeled rover didn't have that option, and unlike your smaller siblings, you were too big to bounce down in a pyramid of airbags. So this was the only way to reach the surface -- lowered from above until your wheels touched the ground. <br />
<br />
"Skycrane has started."<br />
<br />
Nervous laughter.<br />
<br />
"Nominal." Space-talk for "good", we all knew.<br />
<br />
Absolute silence.<br />
<br />
"Touchdown confirmed. Wheels down on Mars."<br />
<br />
The control room, the auditorium, and every other room on Earth where people were watching the landing exploded in celebration. We clapped our hands raw, screamed our lungs out, and jumped out of our seats, hopping up and down in joy. I ran over to hug several of the NASA officials who were watching in the first row, and offered peanuts to <a href="http://science.nasa.gov/about-us/organization-and-leadership/office-of-the-associate-administrator/mr-charles-j-gay/" target="_hplink">Charles Gay</a>, the deputy head of the Science Mission Directorate -- probably the highest-ranking person responsible for the mission who was there with us and not in Pasadena.<br />
<br />
And then, while we were still celebrating loudly, another announcement from the control room:<br />
<br />
"We've got thumbnails."<br />
<br />
Images? Images already? <br />
<br />
"Images! Images!" We cheered, as they were displayed on the screen. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nCyMcQSzzks" target="_hplink">A small photograph of your wheel and the landscape around you</a>, fuzzy, taken through a dust cover and black-and-white, true, but an image from a robot on the surface of another world mere what-felt-like-seconds after it had landed!<br />
<br />
Icing on the cake wasn't a strong enough metaphor. This was... um... another whole cake on top of the cake? <br />
<br />
My dad had asked me to call him as soon as we knew the touchdown had been successful, but the images had drawn my attention for a little bit longer. Nonetheless, I called him after the first image came in, although I had to shout for him to hear me over everyone else's cheers!<br />
<br />
And then, more thumbnails! They kept coming in!<br />
<br />
"That's the shadow, of the <em>Curiosity</em> rover, on the surface of Mars!"<br />
<br />
We clapped and cheered, and then Mr. Jacobs stood up and asked Mr. Gay from the Science Mission Directorate to stand up and "say a few words." He had to wait half a minute to begin, because we all cheered for him after that was said.<br />
<br />
"I really don't know what to say, this has been a long time coming, a lot of people have worked really long and really hard to make this happen. I want to thank you all for coming here tonight and being part of this. I can't think of a better way of spending this evening than with a room full of friends, enjoying this. I think that this is just beginning, the discoveries are going to start to come, it's going to be terribly exciting, don't stop watching Mars <em>Curiosity</em> after this landing. Stay tuned, it's going to be fantastic. Thank you all for coming out tonight." We gave him another round of applause. <br />
<br />
"And you're welcome to stay until 4:00 a.m.! At which point, this room turns into a pumpkin!" <br />
<br />
I remarked to my friends that Mr. Gay was lucky there wasn't a swimming pool around, or we might have picked him up and thrown him in celebration, like <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fw0LYjaRC3A/TSaQhY2Py8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/4VF0MAbcwlw/s1600/d5b3ad4a972668f2_large.jpg" target="_hplink">what happened to Guenter Wendt after <em>Apollo 11</em></a>! As it was, we let him go home to some well-deserved rest as we applauded yet again.  <br />
<br />
Most people filtered out of the auditorium now, but I stayed, along with a few other people, to see the 3:00 a.m. news conference. I picked up my tape recorder from where it had been recording, under my seat, and tried to sign-off coherently, despite having been awake for 15 hours and counting.<br />
<br />
"1:43 a.m., Jul-<strong>August</strong> 6, 2012, um, wheels down on Mars, end recording." I said, shutting the recorder off.<br />
<br />
The few of us who remained relaxed and joked, several of them complimenting me on my temporary tattoo. <br />
<br />
It really was incredible how much work had gone into the mission -- like Mr. Gay had said, so many people had been involved in your design, and construction, and testing, and launch, and 8-month interplanetary cruise and then this entry and landing -- and that was just on the MSL team! The <a href="http://mars.jpl.nasa.gov/odyssey/" target="_hplink">Mars Odyssey</a> spacecraft, already in Mars orbit, had transmitted your signals all throughout the descent, and there was exactly the same sort of huge team behind it -- and behind each of the previous missions that had led up to this, all the way back to <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/mars-pathfinder/" target="_hplink"><em>Sojourner</em></a>... no, <em>Viking</em>... no, <a href="http://nssdc.gsfc.nasa.gov/nmc/spacecraftDisplay.do?id=1964-077A" target="_hplink"><em>Mariner 4</em></a>... no, <a href="http://www.lpi.usra.edu/lunar/missions/ranger/" target="_hplink"><em>Ranger</em></a>... no, <a href="http://www.lpi.usra.edu/lunar/missions/luna/" target="_hplink"><em>Luna</em></a>... <em>Sputnik</em>... <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/centers/goddard/about/history/dr_goddard.html" target="_hplink">Goddard</a>, <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/audience/foreducators/rocketry/home/konstantin-tsiolkovsky.html" target="_hplink">Tsiolkovsky</a>, Newton, Galileo, Copernicus...<br />
<br />
It really was a vast unbroken chain that extended back into history, a mountain of contributions built one stone at a time, a chain that also extended into the future, beginning with us, beginning with that night, beginning with there, in Gale Crater and in the auditorium. Now, it was time to go home, time to sleep, but in the morning, when the <em>Odyssey</em> spacecraft passed over again, when the next observations came back and we enthusiasts went out into the world to tell our friends of what had happened that night and why it had mattered, we would begin to add our own contributions to that ever-growing mountain. The story of our exploration of Mars is being written every day, and I look forward to seeing what you add, <em>Curiosity</em>!<br />
<br />
I thought of something Carl Sagan had said in his <em>Cosmos</em> television series when describing how his own work on the <em>Viking</em> missions had been enabled by so many others:<br />
<br />
<em>"Science is a collaborative enterprise, spanning the generations. When it permits us to see the far side of some new horizon, we remember those who prepared the way -- seeing for them also."</em><br />
<br />
Your friend, <br />
<br />
Zoe]]></content>
    <link href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/741724/thumbs/s-MARS-mini.jpg" type="image/jpeg" rel="enclosure"/>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>The Fire of Adventure</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/the-fire-of-adventure_b_1717538.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1717538</id>
    <published>2012-07-31T16:02:41-04:00</published>
    <updated>2012-09-30T05:12:04-04:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[There are several paintings in the museum of people who donated money or collections, but this one wasn't a typical portrait. The man and woman in the painting were dressed in climbing gear and kneeling on a mountain summit, holding an American flag and the flag of the National Geographic Society.]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[<strong>Events of July 6 and 20, 2012</strong><br />
<br />
<em>"They looked from the side of the plane to the water below<br />
Fresh out of Spain with the wind at their backs at a blow<br />
And I was along for the ride, up in the sun and I opened my eyes<br />
And I felt it then, the fire of adventure, the dreamer again<br />
To this I sing, and wait for the wind that lifted Tingmissartoq's shining wing."</em><br />
<br />
-- Bill Staines, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cz1VItk76kw" target="_hplink">"Song for <em>Tingmissartoq</em>"</a>.<br />
<br />
As people who've been reading this blog for a while will be well aware, I have an interest in many different people, places and concepts in history, some of them rather random and obscure. I love finding out more about topics that interest me, and the possibility of learning something new about a favorite topic is always exciting.<br />
<br />
Of course, given that some of these topics are, well, obscure and random, often I'll hear people follow up one of my long monologues about these topics with "So how exactly did you get interested in 1960s superhero comics?" (or "<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/smithsonian-exhibits_b_1621736.html" target="_hplink">Komodo dragons</a>," or "Nikola Tesla," or "Sir Ernest Shackleton," or "<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/national-archives-dc_b_1641995.html" target="_hplink">atomic submarines</a>," or whatever else the topic I'm raving about happens to be.)<br />
<br />
The truth is, my obsessions often come completely out of the blue. I just see or hear something that some part of my brain thinks sounds interesting, and then I feel compelled to learn more about it. I learned who Carl Sagan was purely through hearing his name mentioned in passing in a lecture by another scientist. I read my first books about Harry Houdini because I wondered who that guy was whose name kept showing up in the card catalog at my elementary school library when I searched for Harry Potter. And, as I've written before, I'm an archaeology major now because I saw a fascinating painting in my science textbook in sixth grade. <br />
<br />
I never go somewhere planning to make a discovery and come away with a new subject to investigate, but that's exactly what happened a few months ago. <br />
<br />
After finishing my finals, I had one day in Boston before my mom would come up to campus to take me and my stuff (my stuff and I?) home. I decided to treat myself and visit the <a href="http://www.mos.org/" target="_hplink">Museum of Science</a>, where I hadn't been <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/yuris-night-in-boston_b_1443995.html" target="_hplink">since the BU SEDS Yuri's Night celebration</a>. Since it was a Friday, I knew that the museum would be open until 9 PM and that there would be free stargazing on the roof, so I figured I could spend the afternoon and evening there and then come home.<br />
<br />
I've been lucky enough to visit the National Air and Space Museum twice after hours, and to sleep over at the American Museum of Natural History, and I have to say that there really is something special about museums at night. No, exhibits don't really come to life (at least, they haven't when I've been around... ) but when there's fewer guests around and things are quieter, you have more of an instinct to linger and take in details, to wander instead of rushing, to notice things you'd otherwise miss. <br />
<br />
In the last half-hour or so before stargazing started, that was how the Museum of Science was, especially on the top floor of the main atrium space looking at the space station display. I headed down the softly-carpeted stairs to check out the large topographic globe in another part of the museum (I'm a sucker for geography), and found myself in front of a painting...<br />
<br />
There are several paintings in the museum of people who donated money or collections, but this one wasn't a typical portrait. The man and woman in the painting <a href="http://inclined.americanalpineclub.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/L11washburn2.jpg" target="_hplink">were dressed in climbing gear and kneeling on a mountain summit</a>, holding an American flag and the flag of the National Geographic Society. <br />
<br />
Understandably, this was rather intriguing to me, and the immediate question in my mind was "Who are they?"<br />
<br />
Fortunately, there was a plaque under the painting that I quickly read:<br />
<br />
"BRADFORD &amp; BARBARA WASHBURN<br />
July 30, 1940<br />
First ascent to the 10,000 foot summit<br />
of  Mount Bertha, Alaska Coast Range."<br />
<br />
Cool! But why are they here in the museum?<br />
<br />
"Founding Director of the Museum, Brad led this institution 1939-1980. Through passion and foresight, with Barbara's encouragement, he transformed a sleepy Natural History Museum on Berkeley Street into the [<em>sic</em>] full spectrum, state-of-the-art learning center at Science Park."<br />
<br />
So... the couple who founded this museum were also super-awesome adventurers? Like the O'Connells from the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mummy:_The_Animated_Series" target="_hplink">animated <em>Mummy</em> series</a> that I watched when I was little, only real? How did I not know this before?!?<br />
<br />
As that initial surge of intrigue faded, I remembered that yes, I vaguely did remember having come across <a href="http://www.nationalgeographicstock.com/comp/Y9/492/547150.jpg" target="_hplink">a photograph online</a> of the people the National Geographic Society had given special awards to on their 100th anniversary in 1988 a few years before. I hadn't recognized every name listed in the captions, so I'd looked them up and I did remember that my quick searching had revealed that one of the older gentlemen in the picture had been the founder of the Museum of Science.<br />
<br />
But if I'd found anything else out about this Bradford Washburn during that brief Google session I didn't remember it, which was a shame, because now I was curious. I felt that familiar itch to learn more because <em>OMG there's something cool in history that I don't know anything about</em>!<br />
<br />
Of course, it was now time for the stargazing session to start, so research would have to wait. I hurried over to the parking garage and had a wonderful few hours alternatively looking at crescent Venus, talking with the observatory presenters as we waited for clouds to pass, and helping the presenters with the experience I'd gained from a year of helping the BU Astronomical Society show people the stars at our Public Observatory Nights. (Amusingly, there was some kind of event going on at the nearby Boston Garden that night, and the searchlights they had pointed at the sky could be seen on the low clouds overhead.)<br />
<br />
The next day was spent packing up my dorm room and heading home to good old Southampton, but once I was safely settled at home, I was able to get down to some proper research.<br />
<br />
I was able to find Mr. Washburn's <a href="http://www.boston.com/news/globe/city_region/breaking_news/2007/01/bradford_washbu.html" target="_hplink">obituary</a> from the <em>Boston Globe</em> on their website, which gave me a good summary of his life and adventures. Essentially, he had the sort of biography that automatically makes anyone who reads it feel like an underachiever: climbed Mont Blanc by 16, wrote three books by 20, led an expedition to map thousands of miles of uncharted territory in Alaska at 25, took a position as a museum director that nobody else wanted and proceeded to turn that institution into a nationally-famous museum, happily married for 66 years, mapped the Grand Canyon and Mount Everest, took wilderness photographs that even Ansel Adams admired by hanging out the side of an airplane, and, somehow, despite all of those dangerous exploits, lived to be 96. <br />
<br />
(Oh, and the ascent of Mount Bertha that painting showed? That was the couple's honeymoon.)<br />
<br />
However, I quickly realized that there was a lot of information about Washburn's life that wasn't online, but in books and magazine articles that I had no access to. But I had a feeling I knew where I could find that information -- there had to be a library at National Geographic Headquarters, and if they'd sponsored some of Washburn's expeditions and given him the Centennial Award, they had to have some sort of information about his adventures.<br />
<br />
So, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/national-geographic-society_b_1657959.html" target="_hplink">as I wrote in my last post</a>, I made an appointment to visit the Headquarters Library on the next available Friday -- the only day I had off from work that they were open. (The library is open from 1 to 5 on weekdays, but I work every weekday except Friday.)<br />
<br />
The library was welcoming and comfortable, decorated with reproductions of N.C. Wyeth's paintings of pirates and well-stocked with armchairs -- the perfect sort of place to read adventure stories. The librarian on duty helpfully showed me how to use their catalog system and pulled up a bevy of books and magazine articles. The articles I could look up in the bound collected volumes that were in the reading room, while the librarian quickly fetched the books from the back rooms where they were kept. I spread them out on a table, sat down, and started to read, taking notes when I wanted to.<br />
<br />
I stayed until the library closed, but I didn't have time to read all of the books, and the next Friday, the whole Headquarters building was closed, but two weeks later, I was able to come back and repeat the experience.  <br />
 <br />
The <em>New York Times</em> was a bit premature when it announced, "<a href="http://whateveritisimagainstit.blogspot.com/2012/03/today-100-march-8-1912-whole-world-has.html" target="_hplink">the whole world has now been discovered</a>," after Roald Amundsen reached the South Pole in 1911. Between that era of sextants and wooden dogsleds and our own world of GPS and Gore-Tex, there was an intermediate time that's easy to overlook, because it was also the era when the wholly new frontiers of the hydrosphere and atmosphere were being opened up. But in the 1930s and '40s, there were still places in North America where you could walk off the map, and find yourself very, very lost. <br />
<br />
That was exactly what happened to Washburn and his climbing partner Robert Bates in 1937, when unseasonable warmth turned their attempt at making the first ascent of Canada's Mount Lucania into what one biographer aptly called "a death march". (<a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=845078" target="_hplink">Here is an NPR story</a> in which Mr. Washburn and author David Roberts tell the story of that escape much better than I could. Suffice to say, their pilot had to leave them behind in the wilderness, and then things got much, much worse.)<br />
<br />
I said that my search produced a lot of books and magazine articles, so many that they almost covered the table in front of me. But I don't have any trouble deciding which was my favorite -- Barbara Washburn's autobiography, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Accidental-Adventurer-Memoir-McKinley/dp/0945397917" target="_hplink"><em>The Accidental Adventurer</em></a>. It's one thing to read about hardened explorers who eat nails for breakfast climbing Denali, but it's an entirely different experience reading about that same expedition in the very honest and funny voice of a former secretary with little mountaineering experience who nevertheless became the first woman to reach the summit. <br />
<br />
Even though "No one offered young ladies instruction in putting on crampons or wielding ice axes" when she was growing up, Mrs. Washburn became an accomplished explorer and mountaineer in her own right, to the point where her husband admitted "I wouldn't last thirty minutes climbing solo." That 1947 expedition was captured in <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQJfvgtobWA&amp;list=UUeYda7MUy54yNYJya8txkJA&amp;index=7&amp;feature=plcp" target="_hplink">this classic newsreel</a> -- despite airdrops of supplies by military planes, getting to the top was challenging indeed! <br />
<br />
There really was something magical about sitting there in that leather armchair, reading these stories, and looking at the beautiful, artistic black-and-white photographs Mr. Washburn took of this terrain -- people, tents and support planes dwarfed before those massive peaks and glaciers. The photos really did create a sense of "being there" -- exploring along with these people, and sharing in their triumphs and hardships. It's really something to imagine, in this day of <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/station/research/experiments/AMS-02.html" target="_hplink">supersensitive cosmic ray spectrometers aboard the International Space Station</a>, that the closest those scientists in 1947 could get their instruments to the radiation of outer space for longer than the span of a short balloon or sounding rocket flight was a temporary station high on Denali's hazardous slopes. <br />
<br />
I'm sure Mr. Washburn knew that feeling very well -- having done his early mapping in Alaska in small, unpressurized bush planes, the maps of Mount Everest he produced in his 70s and 80s used lasers, GPS receivers, and infrared images taken from the Space Shuttle! <br />
<br />
It makes sense to consider those who completed the final major geographical explorations of the planet Earth as a breed apart from those involved in the exploration of space, existing in a different world. "What would Captain Scott have done with GPS?" we joke. But the life of Bradford Washburn spanned both of these frontiers, a fact surely not lost on a man who spent forty years on a mission that made for less exciting biographical writing than mountaineering but was just as rewarding -- educating the people of his home city about the discoveries scientists have made, and the new scientific frontiers that still await future explorers.<br />
<br />
"Each one of us," Mr. Washburn quoted Aristotle at the conclusion of his <em>National Geographic</em> article on the Everest mapping project, "adds a little to our understanding of Nature, and from all the facts assembled arises a certain grandeur."]]></content>
    <link href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/626446/thumbs/s-NATURE-CREATIVITY-STUDY-mini.jpg" type="image/jpeg" rel="enclosure"/>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Exploring &quot;The World and All That's in It&quot;</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/national-geographic-society_b_1657959.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1657959</id>
    <published>2012-07-09T12:21:50-04:00</published>
    <updated>2012-09-08T05:12:09-04:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[I won't claim I had no interest in geography before I started reading National Geographic, that's simply not true. But I wasn't aware of all of the things that "geography" could encompass.]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[<strong>Events of June 23, 2012 </strong><br />
<br />
While on the way home from an Independence Day celebration this week, I mentioned offhandedly to one of my friends that I'd gotten my first pair of binoculars "from my godmother Athena." <br />
<br />
"Wait, you have a godmother named Athena?" One of my friends asked, impressed by the relatively unusual but cool-sounding name. <br />
<br />
While my mother's family is, indeed, from Greece, I must regrettably admit that I cannot claim the Olympian goddess as a relative. (Even though that would be awesome.) My godmother is decidedly mortal, but, like her divine namesake, she is a great promoter of knowledge.<br />
<br />
I feel that every child should be lucky enough to have relatives who support and encourage their interest in the world around them. When I yammered on and on about astronomy during one visit my godmother made to our house, she sent me a book about the mythology of the constellations and my first pair of serious binoculars. I still own those good old 12x24s, and while their center axis joint has become a bit worn-out, making it hard to keep them folded up, I still keep them amongst my observing equipment.<br />
<br />
But the second-greatest gift my godmother gave me was only because of a happy accident. She was either moving or simply cleaning up her house, I don't remember which, but at any rate she, like many people, had amassed a collection of <em>National Geographic</em> back issues in her attic and needed to get rid of them. She knew that I was a voracious reader who was interested in traveling around the world, so she mailed us the magazines in a large box. <br />
<br />
When the package arrived, my mother helped me unload the large yellow stack and find a place for it on one of my bookshelves. (Vertically, and with the spines pointed out, of course.) I'd read the National Geographic Society's magazine for children, <em>World</em> (now called <a href="http://kids.nationalgeographic.com/kids/" target="_hplink"><em>National Geographic Kids</em></a>), for several years, but the grown-up version was even more in-depth, and came with pull-out maps, which I eagerly pored over and briefly hung on my walls before I realized that direct sunlight would fade them. <br />
<br />
I gushed to my godmother on the phone in typical excitable 10-year-old fashion about her gift. (I think the articles I most enjoyed were about the recovery of the ecosystem around Mount Saint Helens 20 years after the 1980 eruption, the <a href="http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0207/feature5/" target="_hplink">discovery of the Civil War submarine <em>CSS Hunley</em></a>, and the <a href="http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2003/05/everest/everest-text" target="_hplink">50th anniversary of the first ascent of Mount Everest</a> with an article about <a href="http://www.achievement.org/autodoc/page/hil0bio-1/" target="_hplink">Sir Edmund Hillary</a> that instantly made him one of my heroes -- regrettably, one I would never have the chance to meet before his death in 2008.) And that was what led to her greatest physical gift to me -- a subscription of my own. <br />
<br />
I still have that pile of back issues on my bookshelf, although it's now mostly issues I've received myself in the nine years since I got my own subscription. I know that's nothing compared to people who've been getting the magazine for decades and have back issues going back to the days of black-and-white photography, but it's still something I'm proud of.<br />
<br />
I won't claim I had no interest in geography before I started reading <em>National Geographic</em>, that's simply not true. But I wasn't aware of all of the things that "geography" could encompass, dealing not just with maps, but with the places they represented, the natural processes that happened there, and the scientific investigations that were the reason we knew what we knew about them. In short, as a program for a lecture sponsored for the society summarized it, geography was "the study of the world and all that's in it!"<br />
<br />
And in late November of 2004, I had the opportunity to travel to the National Geographic Society headquarters here in D.C. and hear a lecture given by <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/why-i-chose-boston-univer_b_935873.html" target="_hplink">another of my heroes</a>, underwater explorer<a href="http://www.nationalgeographic.com/explorers/bios/robert-ballard/" target="_hplink"> Dr. Robert Ballard</a>. That was a magical day from start to finish, especially meeting Dr. Ballard in person and getting him to sign my copy of <em>Return to Titanic</em>.<br />
<br />
It wasn't until last summer that I was able to return to the NGS headquarters after that, and then only for a few minutes, as I'd unfortunately arrived right before closing time. (To my further disappointment, while the traveling <a href="http://www.amnh.org/exhibitions/race/" target="_hplink">Race to the End of the Earth</a> exhibition that I'd seen previously at the American Museum of Natural History had come to the NGS museum, the adorable stuffed toy huskies that I'd so admired in New York had not.)<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago, however, I arranged to spend a whole Saturday at the museum. I obtained a ticket at the window and headed inside. Although the exhibits had changed, the interior of the building was still as it had been in 2004 -- the white marble walls, the golden NGS seal in the floor, the photograph overlays on the elevator doors. Having the time to peruse the museum at my leisure, it really did feel like falling into the magazine, seeing the photographs and maps transformed into real artifacts and models in front of my face. I wandered up and down the central corridor, looking at the topographic model of the Grand Canyon that hung from the ceiling. (And, I would like to note, being careful not to bump into anyone.)<br />
<br />
In the <a href="http://events.nationalgeographic.com/events/exhibits/2012/03/07/samurai/" target="_hplink">"Samurai: The Warrior Transformed"</a> exhibition, I looked at real samurai armor and swords and attempted to play a Japanese stringed instrument -- although I must admit, I wasn't very good. I also got to see some very cool photographs of life in Japan at the end of the 19th century taken by <a href="http://www.elizascidmore.com/eliza-s-plan" target="_hplink">Eliza R. Scidmore</a>, the woman responsible for Washington's Japanese cherry trees. <br />
<br />
Of course, the coolest exhibit for me was <a href="http://events.nationalgeographic.com/events/exhibits/2012/03/29/titanic/" target="_hplink">"Titanic: 100 Year Obsession"</a>. While I've developed other interests since then, I still felt like my 11-year-old self wandering among the large photographs of the wreck site, working out which I'd seen before, which I hadn't seen, and which I'd forgotten. (I took so many photographs that my camera's batteries died. Fortunately, there's a convenience store a few blocks from the museum.)<br />
<br />
I've been lucky enough to visit a lot of cool places in the past few years and meet a lot of interesting people, and I'm proud to say that I'm one year into my Archeology major. I'm not an explorer yet, and I would never try to pretend to be, but I'm certainly closer than I was as a ten-year-old first picking up those back issues. And for the remainder of my internship, I'm lucky enough to have the National Geographic Society headquarters just two Metro stops away. Before I left the museum, I made sure to check the calendar of upcoming events and asked about how I could make an appointment to use the Society library. (Oh yes, they have a library... but that's <em>another</em> story...)]]></content>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>What I Found (And Found Out) At The National Archives</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/national-archives-dc_b_1641995.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1641995</id>
    <published>2012-07-02T16:18:54-04:00</published>
    <updated>2012-09-01T05:12:12-04:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[Preserving freedom is serious business. The Declaration of Independence is rather hard to read in places because it was stored in direct sunlight for many years -- a definite no-no for historical artifacts.]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[<strong>Events of June 30, 2012</strong><br />
<br />
In an experience I think is probably common to many people of my generation, I first became aware of the <a href="http://www.archives.gov/" target="_hplink">National Archives</a> while watching Nicholas Cage sneak inside of their building in the movie <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0368891/" target="_hplink"><em>National Treasure</em></a>. (Let me just add for the record that I correctly guessed that Dr. Chase's computer password was "Valley Forge," and, being 11 years old at the time, I felt like a supergenius for having guessed it.) The fact that I first heard their name in the context of their being robbed, however, in no way diminishes my deep respect for the Archives and their amazing collections. <br />
<br />
I made plans to visit the Archives at their building on the National Mall this weekend, to get my own glimpse at the Declaration of Independence before the July 4th crowd made the line to see it absurdly long. While I'd visited last year during my time in D.C., in the intervening months, I'd gained a new appreciation of the Archives through their online <a href="http://www.archives.gov/historical-docs/todays-doc/" target="_hplink">Today's Document</a> feature, which presents an archival document every day that's somehow related to an event that occurred on that date in history.<br />
<br />
So, after a thankfully short wait in Saturday's heat, I passed through the grand doors of the visitor's entrance and into the lovely air-conditioned lobby of the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) building. Still a little bit worn out from the heat, I decided to take in the introductory film in the downstairs theater, "Democracy Starts Here."<br />
<br />
The film presented a brief introduction to the collections of the Archives, as well as stories from several researchers about things they had discovered there, from records of the treatment of Japanese-Americans in internment camps during World War II to Albert Einstein's immigration papers to the original patent drawings for various in-line skate designs. I walked out of the theater eager to find some national treasures of my own. <br />
<br />
So, here's what I found -- and found out -- at the National Archives:<br />
<br />
- <strong>The Archives have over 9 billion records, but that doesn't mean they have everything.</strong> I wanted to see if I could find any documents related to the 1985 discovery of the wreck of the <em>Titanic</em>, hopefully newspaper articles. However, since the expedition that found the wreck was conducted by the civilian <a href="http://www.whoi.edu/" target="_hplink">Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution</a> in collaboration with the French <a href="http://wwz.ifremer.fr/institut_eng" target="_hplink">IFREMER</a> organization, and the Archives only has records of the activities of the United States government, I was in the wrong place. The archivist on duty at the Learning Center suggested that I try the Library of Congress instead.<br />
<br />
- <strong>However, they might have something related.</strong> The Archives do, however, contain documents related to the <a href="http://www.titanicinquiry.org/USInq/AMInq01.php" target="_hplink">official 1912 US government inquiry into the sinking of the <em>Titanic</em></a>, including the court testimony of several survivors and Coast Guard reports of the sea conditions during the week of the sinking. <br />
<br />
- <strong>If you're just browsing, the collection highlights on the Archives website can be a great place to start.</strong> I checked out some examples from the collection that were highlighted and quickly stumbled across the NASA-related records! One item I found was a letter from a naturalized citizen to President Nixon about how proud it had made him to watch the <em>Apollo 11</em> landing with his family.<br />
<br />
- <strong>"Documents" aren't just words on paper -- the Archives has photographs, videos and sound recordings, too. </strong>I also found some aerial photographs of Cape Canaveral in the 1950s and today, with notations indicating which roads remained the same and where launchpads and other new structures had been built.<br />
<br />
- <strong>The Washington building isn't the Archives' only location. </strong>When I came across a cluster of records related to the Space Shuttle <em>Challenger</em> accident, I discovered that the shuttle commander, <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/scobee.html" target="_hplink">Francis "Dick" Scobee</a>, was considered a <a href="http://www.archives.gov/st-louis/military-personnel/public/persons-of-prominence.html#S" target="_hplink">"Person of Exceptional Prominence"</a> by the Archives, and that records of his Air Force service were available for public viewing... at the Archives' Military Personnel Records Center in St. Louis, Missouri! (However, for those of us unable to travel to St. Louis, the Center lets people write to them to request photocopies or digital scans of records.)<br />
<br />
- <strong>The Presidential Libraries are part of NARA, too.</strong> (Granted, I found this out on my visit last year, which was why I knew to visit the <a href="http://www.jfklibrary.org/" target="_hplink">Kennedy Presidential Library</a> in Boston during the school year, but it's still good to know.) What I WAS able to view online were a <a href="http://www.archives.gov/presidential-libraries/programs/pdf/challenger-documents.pdf" target="_hplink">collection of documents</a> related to the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qa7icmqgsow" target="_hplink">speech given by President Reagan</a> a few hours after the accident occurred. The hard copies of these documents were stored at the <a href="http://www.reaganfoundation.org/" target="_hplink">Reagan Presidential Library</a> in California, but I could view the online scans from anywhere, including D.C. (This is when, as a book I had as a little kid put it, the Internet can be like a library without walls.) <br />
<br />
- <strong>The Archives are full of surprises.</strong> It was very cool to see the drafts the speech had gone through and the edits that the president and his staff had made to it. The staff had to work very quickly to make sure the speech was ready in time for the president's address, and they made sure to provide phonetics to keep him from mispronouncing any of the astronauts' names. But what really got to me was a handwritten notation at the bottom of one page, presumably addressed to the president, "We know how tough this day has been for you." <br />
<br />
- <strong>Preserving freedom is serious business. </strong>The Declaration of Independence is rather hard to read in places because it was stored in direct sunlight for many years -- a definite no-no for historical artifacts. Today, all three of the Charters of Freedom -- the Declaration, the United States Constitution, and the Bill of Rights -- are kept in a darkened, climate-controlled display area. Each of the Charters is displayed under several layers of bulletproof glass, in a case filled with argon gas. Even so, visitors are discouraged from touching the glass. And, since the displaying of the Charters has been changed since the movie was filmed, the tricks used by the characters in <em>National Treasure</em> to steal the Declaration wouldn't work today. <br />
<br />
- <strong>Which isn't to say there aren't some laughs to be found in the Archives, too.</strong> In the "Public Vaults" exhibit, a display about the presidency contains video recordings of presidents speaking about various topics. George H.W. Bush's <a href="http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/George_H._W._Bush" target="_hplink">"I'm not going to eat any more broccoli"</a> remarks had me and everyone else in the room in stitches. The same room contained various letters written by citizens to the president or other government officials, including several VERY funny ones from children, including a plea from Elvis fans not to make him cut his hair when he was drafted, a schoolboy's comments that he approved of President Kennedy's physical fitness plan but thought the teachers should be made to participate as well, and a seventh grader who thought that if his mother had declared his messy room "a disaster area," he ought to be able to request government assistance in cleaning it up.<br />
<br />
- <strong>There are comic books in the Archives!</strong> Another display in the "Public Vaults" exhibit lets visitors see artifacts that were used as evidence in government investigations. In the 1950s, Congress conducted an investigation to determine if comic books lead to crime. You can see a list of things they determined were inappropriate for children's comic books, including "People being attacked by wild animals or reptiles," as well as a list of comics they thought contained inappropriate content. (<em>Superboy</em> and <em>The Adventures of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis</em> were considered "Somewhat Objectionable".)<br />
<br />
- <strong>Exploration is well-represented in the Archives. </strong>Elsewhere in the Public Vaults, I checked out some stereoscopic "3-D" photographs taken on survey expeditions to the West in the late 1800s, including some taken on John Wesley Powell's expeditions to the Grand Canyon. And an exhibit on polar exploration had Admiral Peary's sextant and a recording of a lecture he gave about his trip to the North Pole, as well as the original "magic lantern" slides he used in the lecture. <br />
<br />
- <strong>And 9 billion records means there's always something new to discover.</strong> Seeing that polar exhibit reminded me of another historical event I was interested in -- the voyage of the submarine <a href="http://www.ussnautilus.org/" target="_hplink">USS <em>Nautilus</em></a> <a href="http://www.arrl.org/news/remembering-ldquo-nautilus-90-north-rdquo" target="_hplink">under the North Pole in 1958</a>! I'd visited the <em>Nautilus</em> at the Submarine Force Museum in Groton, Connecticut a few years before and seen the marker in New York City indicating where the ticker-tape parade for the submarine's crew had begun, and knew that the trip to the arctic had been a Navy operation -- and thus within the purview of the Archives. And I plan on looking it up on the NARA website -- just as soon as I submit this post!]]></content>
    <link href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/657743/thumbs/s-FLAG-mini.jpg" type="image/jpeg" rel="enclosure"/>
</entry>

<entry>
    <title>Standing in the Rainbow (And 9 Other Reasons the Smithsonian Makes Me Smile)</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/smithsonian-exhibits_b_1621736.html"/>
    <id>tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1621736</id>
    <published>2012-06-26T16:14:32-04:00</published>
    <updated>2012-08-26T05:12:05-04:00</updated>
    <summary><![CDATA[This week's been a bit hectic for me, but that made having today off for museum-going all the sweeter. I came up with the idea of making a list of 10 things at the Smithsonian Institution's various museums and other facilities that make me smile.]]></summary>
    <author>
        <name>Zoe P. Strassfield</name>
        <uri>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/</uri>
    </author>
    <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/"><![CDATA[This week's been a bit hectic for me, but that made having today off for museum-going all the sweeter. My father requested something happy to read for Fathers' Day, so I came up with the idea of making a list of 10 things at the Smithsonian Institution's various museums and other facilities that make me smile. <br />
<br />
Now, there are a LOT of things I love seeing at the Smithsonian, but I decided to make this list unique by focusing on smaller and lesser-known places, artifacts and experiences that have brightened my days. So as cool as the Wright Flyer, the Star-Spangled Banner, and the Hope Diamond are, you won't find them on this list. Instead, this is a more personal list of what my old Air and Space Museum guidebook called, "Small Treasures and Other Attractions." So, without further ado, the Smithsonian makes me smile...<br />
<br />
<strong>1) Because dragons are real -- Komodo Dragon Plush, National Zoo.</strong><br />
<br />
Sometime before second grade or thereabouts, my friends and I at a summer day camp were passing the time debating what animal was the biggest, scariest land predator. ("And don't say people, because they don't count.")<br />
<br />
Now, despite my love of lions and tigers, I suggested a very different animal, one that had seemed incredibly fearsome in the <em>National Geographic</em> article my mother had read to me about it.<br />
<br />
"<a href="http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/reptiles/komodo-dragon/" target="_hplink">Komodo dragons</a>!" I offered, joining in the argument.<br />
<br />
"Dragons aren't real, Zoe." My friends rebuked me.<br />
<br />
"No, no, <em>Komodo</em> dragons! They're these huge lizards that live on this island by Australia and they have poison spit!" I clarified. <br />
<br />
"I've never heard of those."<br />
<br />
"Those don't exist!"<br />
<br />
Being as young as I was and eating my lunch on the edge of a soccer field, I was unable to produce any evidence that Komodo dragons did, in fact, exist, so I dropped the argument and joined the chorus supporting tigers.<br />
<br />
I still think that Komodo dragons are very interesting (from a safe distance!), and was excited on my first visit to the <a href="http://nationalzoo.si.edu/" target="_hplink">National Zoo</a> last year to see that they had a Komodo on display. I'd seen the taxidermied Komodos at the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH) back in New York dozens of times, but I'd never seen a live one this close-up before, stalking around confidently like a living dinosaur.<br />
<br />
Last weekend, while spending a sunny Sunday at the Zoo, I wandered into the gift shop within the zoo's Welcome Center and began absent-mindedly perusing the various species of stuffed animals that were for sale. Since the Zoo's giant pandas are its most famous attraction, toy pandas of various sizes and colors were very well-represented. But one bin held a variety of stuffed toy that I'd never seen before...<br />
<br />
"Ohmigosh, a stuffed Komodo dragon!"<br />
<br />
There they were, a bin full of small Komodos, rendered in soft brown cloth, about a meter from the tip of their snouts to the end of their tails. A realistic-looking Komodo dragon could never be cute, but these stuffed toys at least appeared trustworthy -- the sort of toy a younger me might have placed in front of my other stuffed animals at bedtime to guard them against night monsters.  <br />
<br />
If only my younger self could have had a toy Komodo like these to bring to camp the next day and show the other kids, I thought. I would have been vindicated! Alas, due to their size, the toy Komodos failed the all-important, "Will it fit in my suitcase?" test that I must ask myself every time I'm living away from home and want to buy a souvenir. Perhaps some other time...<br />
<br />
<strong>2) Because I live down the street from a dinosaur -- "Uncle Beazley" Statue, National Zoo.</strong><br />
<br />
Speaking of my younger self, like most healthy, normal, science-minded children, I went through several years of intense dinosaur obsession. (I still think they're very cool, and like visiting them at natural history museums when I have the chance, but the next person who asks me if being an archeology major means I'm learning how to dig up dinosaurs is getting left to the mummies...)<br />
<br />
I'm very lucky to live close enough to the Zoo to be able to walk there and explore on the weekends, especially because I'm always making fun discoveries. And a few weeks ago, I came across something very special -- a life-sized statue of a Triceratops! <a href="http://nationalzoo.si.edu/animals/zooart/unclebeazley/default.cfm" target="_hplink">"Uncle Beazley"</a> is named for the dinosaur from Oliver Butterworth's 1956 children's book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Enormous-Egg-Oliver-Butterworth/dp/0316119202" target="_hplink"><em>The Enormous Egg</em></a>, in which a living Triceratops is brought to the Smithsonian and comes to live at the Zoo. <br />
<br />
Like the Easter Island head integrated into the Hall of Pacific Peoples at AMNH after <em>Night at the Museum</em>, it's a clever nod to the work of fiction that might have been some visitors' first introduction to the real place they're now touring. As an even cuter display, Uncle Beazley is surrounded by ferns, papyrus, and other suitably prehistoric-looking plants, and a large sign in front of the sculpture reads, "KEEP OFF OF THE DINOSAUR." (In a similar gag, elsewhere at the Zoo, there's a sign reading, "Please don't feed or pet the elephants!" next to a basketry sculpture of an elephant mother and child.)<br />
<br />
The National Zoo's work protecting endangered species is very serious, but it makes me smile to see that the Zoo employees still have a sense of humor.<br />
<br />
<strong>3) Because you can find peace and quiet in the middle of the city -- Moongate Garden, Sackler Gallery of Art.</strong><br />
<br />
In a strictly technical sense, it's true that, compared to the other museums surrounding it, the <a href="http://www.si.edu/Museums/smithsonian-institution-building" target="_hplink">Smithsonian "Castle"</a> doesn't have much in it -- while it was the first of the Smithsonian museums to be built, it's now the organization's Information Center rather than an active museum. But that doesn't mean it isn't worth visiting -- the architecture alone is fantastic and incredibly photogenic. The building really <em>does </em>look like a castle from a fairy tale!<br />
<br />
The gardens behind the Castle are also worth visiting -- they're divided into several parts, each inspired by the building nearest to it. Behind the Castle itself is the Parterre, a very Victorian display of flowers carefully arranged in geometric patterns across a large enclosed lawn. Like the Castle, it's orderly, welcoming, and magnificent. <br />
<br />
To the east, next to the entrance to the <a href="http://africa.si.edu/" target="_hplink">National Museum of African Art</a>, there's the Fountain Garden, inspired by the gardens of Spain's Moorish Alhambra palace. Sadly, the fountain's been shut off at the moment because of the construction at the next-door <a href="http://www.si.edu/Museums/arts-and-industries-building" target="_hplink">Arts and Industries Building</a>, so I haven't been able to experience this garden's full effect. <br />
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My personal favorite of these three is located on the other side of the Castle, next to the <a href="http://www.asia.si.edu/" target="_hplink">Freer and Sackler Galleries</a>, the Smithsonian's museums of Asian art. <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/zoe-p-strassfield/walking-on-the-national-m_b_924576.html" target="_hplink">As I mentioned last year</a>, this Moongate Garden is based on traditional Chinese architectural and gardening symbolism, especially that used at Beijing's Temple of Heaven. The garden features various combinations of circles and squares -- elements that together represent the harmony of Heaven and Earth.<br />
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And harmonious it is. The trees and stone "Moongate" entrances help block out the outside world, both visually and acoustically, making this garden seem more private than the others. The large pool of water in the center makes the garden cool on the hot summer days D.C.'s been experiencing recently, especially if you take one of the four bridges to the little island in the center. <br />
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That stone island is a lovely place to sit and eat lunch, watching the weeping willows reflected in the water and the clouds pass by over the Castle turrets. It becomes hard to believe that such a peaceful spot is at the center of a major city!<br />
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<strong>4) Because art can transport you anywhere -- Tromp l'oeil Mural, S. Dillon Ripley Center. </strong><br />
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<a href="http://www.si.edu/museums/ripley-center" target="_hplink">The Ripley Center</a> may be the most well-hidden part of the Smithsonian -- accessed through a very small pavilion in front of the Freer and Sackler Galleries, it's actually beneath those Castle gardens! But on a hot day, these underground, air-conditioned galleries are a perfect destination.<br />
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It can be easy for underground areas to feel cramped, dim, and uncomfortable -- just look at most unfinished basements. But the Ripley Center hardly feels "underground" at all -- thanks to a combination of high ceilings, brightly-painted walls, fountains, plantings, and a display of colorful kites, it feels downright airy. <br />
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However, the best trick for making such an enclosed area feel open may just be a very old one -- a <em>tromp l'oeil</em> mural that fills a whole wall. (True to the name of the style, it really does trick the eye.) The detailed mural shows a view into an ancient ruin whose roof has partly crumbled away, revealing the sky. Both classical and ancient Egyptian sculptures are visible within the ruined building. Down a long pathway through the ruins, a building that looks something like Arts and Industries is visible in the distance. But this fantasy is mixed with some reality --at the top of the mural, the Castle is visible through the holes in the roof, several stories above us, as it presumably really would look if the intervening floors and ground weren't in the way.<br />
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The mural serves a practical purpose by helping the space feel less claustrophobic, but it's also very beautiful. Even though I know I'm underground and there aren't any Greco-Roman ruins underneath D.C., the level of detail makes the scene appear real to me. And that's the power of art, I suppose. <br />
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<strong>5) Because make-believe sometimes becomes reality -- Flash Gordon Ray Guns, National Air and Space Museum Stephen F. Udvar-Hazy Center.</strong><br />
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I wrote a few weeks ago about how incredible it was to see the Space Shuttle Discovery right there in front of me at the <a href="http://airandspace.si.edu/udvarhazy/" target="_hplink">Udvar-Hazy Center</a>.  As a docent at the museum told me, if the Mall museum is the Air and Space Museum's Disneyland, the Udvar-Hazy Center is their Walt Disney World -- a second location incorporating lessons learned from the first, where there's more space to expand. <br />
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And, as incredible as the scores of original air- and spacecraft on display at the Udvar-Hazy Center are, there are also many interesting smaller items, including several displays of toys, trophies, and souvenirs. (I don't think I really had an idea of just HOW popular Charles Lindbergh was until I saw their display of different types of Lindberg memorabilia that filled several large display cases.) <br />
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A display near the front of the Space Hangar showcases various types of space toys through the decades, including the original <em>Star Wars</em> action figures. (I'd never seen astronaut Barbies before -- when I'd wanted to play outer space with my Barbies as a little girl, I'd had to use the scuba diving outfits from that set.)<br />
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On their own, all of the toys are fun to look at, but it's the original Flash Gordon toys from the 1930s that really strike a chord with me. Some of the kids who wore those masks, sent away for those pins, and ran around their backyards with those painted tin "atomic ray guns" would become the engineers and astronauts who brought space travel from science fiction to science fact 20 and 30 years later. <br />
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In the museum, you can replicate that development with a simple turn of your head -- from the tin toy rocketships to the real one that fills the room. <br />
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<strong>6) Because you never know what you'll find when you go exploring -- Mary Livingston Ripley Garden.</strong><br />
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A definite benefit of multi-week internships is having the free time to wander around the Mall and not only be able to take the time to soak in each museum's collection over many visits, but also to spend plenty of time poking around their gardens. I mentioned before that the construction on the Arts and Industries Building has closed some space off on the Castle side, and last year, I thought the same thing was true of the Hirshhorn side. <br />
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I'd seen that there was a nice-looking garden in the "alley" between the two museums, including a lovely cast-iron fountain with two spouts shaped like cranes, but the sight of the construction barriers right next door caused me to think that the garden was closed off beyond this immediate entrance. I cursed my bad luck for having visited when the construction was going on, and moved on.<br />
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This year, while walking along the Mall, I decided to see just how far into the garden visitors were allowed to go. I rounded the circular planters, continuing on along the red-brick path... and found that I was free to go all the way to the other side of the street! There were no barriers set up within the garden!<br />
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The path wound calmly through the available space, instead of being a straight line. I had the space all to myself, enjoying the shade and the views of the Hirshhorn's cylindrical body over the garden wall. A few lovely cobalt blue gazing balls accented the foliage, their color magnificent.<br />
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I smiled, happy that my explorations had paid off. Like any good explorer, I made sure to take lots of photographs.<br />
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<strong>7) Because it's fun to defy convention -- Courtyard Fountain, Hirshhorn Gallery.</strong><br />
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The Smithsonian's gardens contain many fountains, and, as is to be expected, most are quiet and relatively sedate -- water squirting from a spout at the top, falling into a few basins on the way down, and coming to rest in a large pool.<br />
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And then there's the Hirshhorn fountain. <br />
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The first time I'd walked underneath the huge cylinder of that architecturally-unique museum, the fountain had been turned off. I'd heard that there was one there, but I figured it must be out of order, another little treasure of D.C. that I'd been there at the wrong time to see.<br />
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But a week later, I came back, it was on, and I realized one thing -- the Hirshhorn fountain is LOUD! The jets shoot up several feet, bubbling white, and come down with a sound like the crashing of ocean waves, making a splash in the center of the huge pool that contains them. <br />
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The jets almost seem to be another sculpture -- a set of white columns in the center of the courtyard, constantly changing in height and texture, but always leaping up into the empty space at the center of the museum's hollow cylinder. <br />
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Like the other fountains, the Hirshhorn fountain reflects nature, but it's a wilder, more energetic part of nature -- perfect for <a href="http://www.hirshhorn.si.edu/collection/resource-centre/#collection=home" target="_hplink">a modern building</a> in neoclassical surroundings. <br />
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<strong>8) Because true stories can be the best stories of all -- <em>Air Babies</em> Book, National Air and Space Museum.</strong><br />
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I'm a big fan of the renovation that the Pioneers of Flight gallery at the <a href="http://airandspace.si.edu/" target="_hplink">National Air and Space Museum</a> has received -- it really captures the fun and daring spirit of 1920s aviation, and the Robert Goddard display is, to use a '20s expression, just the cat's pajamas. <br />
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But every time I visit, the one thing I have to see is a reproduction of a 1936 children's book called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Air-babies-Elvy-Kalep/dp/B0006ANMW2" target="_hplink"><em>Air Babies</em></a>, which features a forward by Amelia Earhart.  The book was designed to introduce young children to aviation, and, in addition to having really cute illustrations and a charming story, it also manages to cram in a LOT of accurate information.<br />
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The "Air Babies" in question are a brother-and-sister pair of personified airplanes named Speedy and Happy Wings. Through their adventures in learning to fly, they meet a kite, a glider, a zeppelin, a balloon, and an autogyro -- a precursor of the helicopter, and discover the concepts of engine stalls, landings, and in-flight refueling (which, in their case, involves baby bottles.) <br />
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It sounds weird to get excited over a book designed for little kids, but it makes me smile to imagine parents reading it to kids who probably didn't realize how much they were learning about the real world of flying from a "fairy tale" of aviation. <br />
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<strong>9) Because traditions endure -- Herrington Feather, Flute, and Seedpot, National Museum of the American Indian (NMAI).</strong><br />
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"Whenever I'm giving little kids a tour, I ask them if they want to see the objects that flew in space. They always say, 'But aren't we in the wrong museum for that?'" One tour guide told me. <br />
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It's true -- space-flown artifacts aren't exactly what one expects to find at the <a href="http://nmai.si.edu/home/" target="_hplink">National Museum of the American Indian</a>. Although I knew that Navy Commander <a href="http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/herringt.html" target="_hplink">John Herrington</a> had been the first self-identified Native American to fly in space in 2002, I wasn't expecting to find anything related to him at the museum -- I assumed they'd leave that to the Air and Space Museum across the street. <br />
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(I'd previously seen the Smithsonian museums avoiding trespassing on each others' subject matter in the transportation gallery of the <a href="http://americanhistory.si.edu/" target="_hplink">National Museum of American History</a>, which almost completely omitted any mention of air travel to avoid duplicating information easily found at Air and Space.)<br />
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But, there it was, a display case on the museum's fourth floor containing an eagle feather, small clay pot, and flute, with photographs of those objects floating in space, in front of the space shuttle's window. As the display explained, Commander Herrington had taken these objects, as well as a Chickasaw Nation flag, on his flight as a way of honoring his heritage.  <br />
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The tour guide I talked to said that she'd met Commander Herrington at one of the museum's powwow celebrations, and that he was now working as an ambassador for his tribe. "I don't think they could have chosen a better one," she said. <br />
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And, even though I've never met him, I agree. Because if any one object epitomizes for me the NMAI's mission of showing Native Americans as a people who maintain their past traditions while still being vibrant and modern, it's that space-flown feather. <br />
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<strong>10) Because every sunbeam is a rainbow -- Prism Window, National Museum of the American Indian.</strong><br />
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When I first visited NMAI in eighth grade, we happened to visit at exactly the right time of day to take advantage of a very special feature of the building's architecture -- a window embedded with eight prisms that throw rainbows onto the floor of the museum's central atrium. My friends and I all had great fun standing in the rainbows and looking at the spectrum across our arms and legs. <br />
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When my brothers visited for their eighth grade trip, I wrote them this piece of advice when visiting NMAI -- "Yes, you can stand in the rainbow. Yes, it's fun. Do it." They were grateful for this advice and thanked me for it upon returning home.<br />
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However, on my visits last year and this summer, I always seemed to be visiting at the wrong time. I asked a docent when the best time to see the rainbows would be, and she told me to come at 1 p.m..<br />
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Following her advice, I came in a little before that the next day. While I couldn't see the floor of the atrium from where I came in because of the sculpture-screen around it, as I walked down the ramp, I caught a glimpse of a loose rainbow-end in front of me and stuck my hand into it. Just like I remembered, I was rewarded with the sight of my skin suddenly turning shades of green and blue.<br />
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On the atrium floor itself, I could get the full effect, standing in a full spectrum and feeling magical. (I wondered if it would be possible to dye denim to make the funky red-orange-yellow-green gradient on my jeans permanent.) <br />
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So simple, just a few pieces of glass and the rays of the sun, but what magic they produced! The prism window may only work at a specific time and in a specific place, but the physics behind it works on a sunny day anywhere -- all it takes is the right equipment to reveal the rainbow hidden in every sunbeam.]]></content>
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