Archive for the 'Behind The Scenes' Category

When puppets tell the story…

At the National Air and Space Museum, we tell stories in a number of ways — through objects, artwork, lectures, videos, planetarium shows — even puppets. Storytelling through puppetry can be a powerful educational tool for our youngest audiences in particular. Puppets have the ability to bring stories and objects in the Museum to life. Young children are concrete learners; they learn through direct experiences. Using puppets in the Museum is a wonderful way to engage young audiences.

We are thrilled to host a return engagement of  “The Wright Brothers: A Musical Play,” a show using shadow puppets, hand puppets, wide mouth puppets, human arm puppets, and  live actors to bring to life the story of Orville and Wilbur Wright and the world’s first successful, manned, heavier-than-air, self-propelled flying machine.  The show’s creator and founder of Rainbow Puppet Productions, David Messick, has been a professional puppeteer for 35 years. He was inspired by his childhood love for Captain Kangaroo, the Muppets, and musicals.

 

Rainbow Puppet Productions

Using a variety of puppets in combination with live actors, Rainbow Puppet Productions brings to life the story of Orville and Wilbur Wright.

Originally created in 2003 for the 100th anniversary of the Orville and Wilbur Wright’s first flight, the show has undergone revision to add more interaction with the audience. David hopes that the show leaves the audience curious and inspired to learn more. “I always try to work into the script something that is in the Wright Brothers gallery that is not in the show,” says David, “the puppet show gets children thinking, laughing, having a good time — we give them just enough to get them excited to go upstairs and see the real Wright Flyer and the objects that are integral to the Wright brothers’ story.”

Young children today live in a world where aircraft and spacecraft are everywhere. How was David able to take the story of the Wright brothers, who invented the airplane more than 100 years ago, and make it meaningful, and relatable, to young audiences? He recalls “having a dream as a kid, flying, like Peter Pan flying… what a cool feeling that would be. I remembered that feeling of curiosity and wonder. This is the heart of the story. So I created a scene in which Wilbur tells Orville, ‘can you imagine what it would really be like if we could fly like an eagle?’ We even have the puppet leave the stage and soar over the audience.” That curiosity is something that all young children can relate to, and it makes events in history become more real.

 

eagle

Wilbur asks Orville, "Can you imagine what it would really be like if we could fly like an eagle?"

There are many themes in the story of the Wright Brothers that are important life-lessons for young children and adults alike. While the puppet show teaches children the simplified physics of flight through a whimsical song, “Power, Lift, Control,” more than that, the show illustrates the importance of scientific discovery, curiosity, and trying, and retrying, again and again.

 

power, lift, control

The Wright Brothers puppet show teaches three properties of flight through props and whimsical song, "Power, Lift, Control."

Success in anything, from engineering to teaching, comes from testing and retesting whatever it is that you create. David knows this lesson very well, saying that when developing the Wright Brothers puppet show he had to try again and again until he got it right. “At some point” he says, “you have to trust yourself, just like the Wright brothers”.

Come see the show on Saturday, January 28 at two free performances at 11:30 and 1:00.

Lizzie Cammarata is an early childhood program specialist at the Mall Building.

The Rutan Voyager

Twenty-five years ago, the staff of the National Air and Space Museum held its collective breath for nine days as a seemingly fragile, flying fuel tank made its way across oceans and continents in an attempt to become the first aircraft to fly around the world non-stop and unrefueled. The odd-looking bird had departed Edwards Air Force Base, California, on the morning of December 14, 1986, and the rest of the world was following as continuous sightings and updates flowed to the media, the Museum, and to the flight’s headquarters in Mojave, California. Everyone wondered if you really could fly around the world on one tank of gas?

 

Voyager

"Voyager" departing the coast of California on Dec. 14, 1986, soon to leave behind Burt Rutan in the Duchess chase plane.

As it turned out, you needed 17 tanks of fuel all in one vehicle from start to finish.  Voyager, the ultimate homebuilt, was the brainchild of unconventional designer Burt Rutan and two record-setting pilots, his brother Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager.  Six years from initial conception on a napkin, as the story goes, to completion of the flight two days before Christmas in 1986, this trio successfully proved that lots of hard work and a little bit of luck could still make dreams come true.  Of course they didn’t do it alone.  A dedicated team of volunteers supported every aspect of the endeavor, but it was Dick Rutan and Yeager who beat the bushes for donations from the general public and corporate sponsors (they never did get a big-time sponsor) and built and tested the aircraft themselves. In the end, their dramatic quest created a public following that rivaled the flight-tracking of Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.

All of a sudden Museum curators were being asked who else had flown around the world, how and when were the flights accomplished, and was this really the last aviation milestone?  We knew the answers to the first two questions: in 1924, Army Air Corps crews flew two Douglas World Cruisers biplanes on the first round the world flight, a six-month marathon around oceans and through the arctic snow and tropical jungles — one of the airplanes, the Chicago, is in the Museum’s Barron Hilton Pioneers of Flight Gallery.  Then in 1957, three USAF B-52B bomber crews made the first non-stop flights around the world aided by aerial refueling.  No one seriously considered it possible to accomplish the flight without some sort of refueling, until Burt Rutan did.

The sheer audacity of assuming it could be done had to wait for dramatic changes in aircraft construction material and an out-of-the-box thinker. Weight, the ever-present penalty for aircraft, was the ultimate problem to be conquered.  How could you squeeze in enough fuel to fly nearly 25,000 miles and yet keep the aircraft light enough to even take off? Carbon fiber was the answer, making the aircraft half the weight of conventional aluminum construction, but as strong as steel.  Burt Rutan’s design certainly turned heads with its forward canard and graceful wings connecting two out-rigger booms, all of which contained 7011.5 pounds of fuel.  Every effort was made to keep the aircraft light, and thankfully Yeager weighed only 95 pounds. The two pilots were crammed into a phone booth-sized barebones cockpit and they would be there for nine days.  That alone earns gasps when people first see the aircraft but add the fact that, unbeknownst to the public, the pilots had not been getting along very well and you have a truly incredible feat.

 

Dick and Jeanna

Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager in Voyager’s cramped cockpit

The Rutans and Yeager made it clear they expected success and they wanted to see the aircraft hanging at the Smithsonian.  The Museum adopted a wait and see attitude; given the long delays in the program and the dangers and pitfalls of the proposed flight, would this ever really happen?

Ultimately, determination and perseverance prevailed as Voyager and its crew endured the loss of its winglets on and just after  takeoff, a typhoon, thunderstorms that flipped the craft to a 90-degree bank, fuel starvation in one engine, and severe physiological and psychological stress.

The Museum followed the nine-day trip in the Air Transportation gallery but there were still questions — was it really one of the last great records of aviation?  By the time Rutan and Yeager landed back at Edwards AFB at 8:05am PST on December 23, 1986, it was clear that history had been made.  Not only were they the first to fly non-stop non-refueled around the world, they also set eight absolute or world class records.  Winning aviation’s prestigious Collier Trophy settled the discussion. While the press lavished praise couched in holiday cheer, the Museum began planning for a new addition to its collection.

In the summer of 1987, Voyager was dismantled for its trip by trailer from California to the Paul E. Garber Preservation, Restoration and Storage Facility in Suitland, Maryland.  While Voyager received accolades at the Experimental Aircraft Association Convention in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, structural engineer and curator Howard Wolko calculated how to get this huge aircraft into the building.  After a midnight wide-load ride from the Garber Facility to the west terrace of the Museum in Washington, DC, our team of specialists moved the center section onto dollies.

Then the carefully laid plans came to a halt. Just inside the west doors a replica aircraft carrier deck which held our Grumman Hellcat protruded a little too far, and it was clear that Voyager would not pass.  In the wee hours of the morning, a solution was found: elevate and tilt the center section with a hydraulic lift, inching it over and past the offending carrier deck.  After barely sliding by the Air Transportation gallery, the center section was rolled into the South Lobby at dawn.  Thankfully the assembly of the wings, empennage, and engines was routine and our able but tired staff suspended Voyager using scissor lifts and winches in time for our 10:00 a.m. opening.  The near catastrophic loss of the winglets on takeoff proved fortunate for us by reducing the wingspan by two feet and allowing the aircraft to fit snugly into the South Lobby. On the first anniversary of the flight, Burt and Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager reached their final goal of seeing Voyager suspended in the south lobby of the National Air and Space Museum.

Dorothy Cochrane is a curator in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum

The Meaning Behind Folding an American Flag

The American flag is one of the most important symbols of the United States.  For many, it symbolizes respect, honor, and freedom.  For others, the flag represents reflection, courage and sorrow.  The National Air and Space Museum cares for a number of American flags in the Smithsonian Institution’s national collection, many of which represent significant events in the history of space exploration or aeronautics. One belonged to Amelia Earhart.  One was flown aboard Gemini 4 by NASA astronauts James McDivitt and Edward H. White in 1965.  And the Museum has several replicas of the flag that was left on the Moon during the Apollo 11 lunar landing in 1969.  Although each flag has a story that is worth telling, the care and preservation of these unique objects is also noteworthy.

Even though Museum staff are trained to handle cultural objects, sometimes an object requires special attention. With the upcoming installation of new displays in the Moving Beyond Earth gallery highlighting the history of the space shuttle program, a very special flag was chosen for display.  This particular flag was flown over the U.S. Capitol on February 1, 2003 as a tribute to the crew of STS-107, who died when the space shuttle Columbia was lost during re-entry at the end of its mission.  It was donated to the Museum by Dennis Hastert, then Speaker of the House of Representatives, to honor the astronauts.

 

flag

This flag was presented to the National Air and Space Museum by Dennis Hastert, then Speaker of the House of Representatives (Photograph by Gregory K.H. Bryant)

flag

Flag prior to folding on table in conservation laboratory (Photograph by Marcy Borger)

When it was decided to display the flag in the new gallery, the conservation staff unfolded the flag from its original box so that it could be examined, photographed, and cleaned. The curatorial team agreed that the flag should be folded in the traditional, triangular pattern before putting it on display. Because the flag represents an American tragedy of significant proportion and out of respect for the proper treatment of the artifact, the Museum invited a member of the military to assist with folding the flag.  Army Major Warren R. Stump, who recently returned from Afghanistan, assisted the conservation staff.

 

stump

Flag being folded by Major Warren R. Stump. Moving Beyond Earth contractor Stephanie Spence is assisting (Photograph by Marcy Borger)

Major Stump, with assistance from Stephanie Spence and Dawn Planas (conservation contractors for the Moving Beyond Earth gallery) folded the flag, while I (Lisa Young) read an explanation of the meaning behind each of the thirteen folds in a properly-folded American flag.  The flag is folded to represent the original thirteen colonies of the United States.  Each fold also carries its own meaning.  According to the description, some folds symbolize freedom, life, or pay tribute to mothers, fathers, and those who serve in the Armed Forces.  When the flag is completely folded and tucked in, it takes on the appearance of a cocked hat, representing the soldiers who served under George Washington, the sailors and marines who served under John Paul Jones, and the many who have followed in their footsteps.

 

stump

Major Stump folding the flag (Photograph by Marcy Borger)

Now folded into the traditional triangle shape, the STS-107 Capitol-flown flag will be displayed in the Moving Beyond Earth gallery. The flag will serve as a reminder of the heroes who flew aboard the Space Shuttle Columbia, and who paved the way for further space exploration.  It will also serve as a reminder to Museum staff about how special objects take on new meaning as they are interpreted for public display.  We are grateful to Major Stump for helping the Museum to pay full respect to this significant artifact.

 

group

Presenting the flag to the Moving Beyond Earth Curator, Margaret Weitekamp and conservation team members John Holman, Lisa Young, Dawn Planas and Stephanie Spence. (Photograph by Marcy Borger)

Lisa A. Young is a conservator in the Collections Division and Margaret Weitekamp is a curator in the Space History Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

That’s One Small Step. . .

These suits have come a long way. True, it’s only 37 miles from Suitland, Maryland to Chantilly, VA. On a good day, that’s less than an hour’s drive on the beltway. But today, like 42 years ago, these suits are worlds away from where they came.

 

Neil Armstrong's Spacesuit

Neil Armstrong’s spacesuit, flown on Apollo 11, is inspected and prepared for shipment at the Paul E. Garber Preservation, Restoration, and Storage Facility. From left to right, Amelia Kile, Samantha Snell, Lisa Young, and Stephanie Harris. Photo by Eric Long

On December 6th, the spacesuit that Neil Armstrong wore as he took his first steps on the Moon made the giant leap from outdated storage facilities to new, state-of-the-art collections storage at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center. About 200 suits are being relocated from the Paul E. Garber Preservation, Restoration and Storage Facility in Suitland, Maryland this winter. These include Michael Collins’ Apollo 11 suit and many more used to develop spacesuit technology and train astronauts.

 

Garber

Spacesuits are loaded onto the “Big Blue” tractor-trailer in Suitland, MD. From left to right, Stephanie Harris, Scott Wood, Pat Robinson, and Christine Cannon. Photo by Eric Long.

Museum staff sometimes calls the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center “the promised land.”  In some ways, the place is a museum worker’s (and culture buff’s) dream come true. The reason for this name? Conditions are ideal for the long-term preservation of these national treasures. Temperature, relative humidity, exposure to light, the elements, and pollutants can all seriously affect the life-expectancy of these beloved artifacts, but each can be tightly controlled at the new facility. Simply having a permanent, secure building with modern infrastructure and adequate physical space for each spacesuit ensures that the National Air and Space Museum’s comprehensive collection of spacesuits will survive for years to come.

 

Hazy

Spacesuits are delivered to the new storage facility. From left to right, Cathy Lewis, Amelia Kile, Stephanie Harris, Christine Cannon, Katherine Watson, Samantha Snell, Scott Wood, and Pat Robinson. Photo by Dane Penland.

In the relatively short time I have worked with the Museum, much progress has been made in preparing this collection to move to its new home, as curator Cathy Lewis explained in a previous post. Many collections staff, volunteers, interns, contractors, and more than one curator and conservator have worked with purpose and diligence in the last decade toward this day and this goal. It opens a new chapter for the Museum, begun earlier this year with the framed art collection. Now this collection will be more accessible to researchers and staff, and in turn, the public. I am honored to participate in this moment.

This is one of many “small” artifact collections being relocated to the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center in the next several years, so check back for updates on our progress.

Amelia Brakeman Kile is lead move contractor in the Collections Division of the National Air and Space Museum

Above Water

When the floods in Thailand appeared in the news recently, my friends and colleagues recommended that I stay away.  But how could I?  It was only a 4.5 hour flight from China (where I would be attending the Lishui International Photography Festival November 5 – 9) and photographing the Bangkok (BKK) air traffic control tower at the Suvarnabhumi International Airport was a high priority on my “to do” list.  Actually, the highest.  It is the tallest freestanding air traffic control tower in the world at 132.2 meters (434 feet) and a major tower to include in my upcoming book and Smithsonian exhibition The Art of the Airport Tower.

 

BKK

BKK Air Traffic Control Tower at Suvarnabhumi International Airport, Bangkok, Thailand Nov. 2011.

Getting to the various locations to photograph airport towers is only part of the job. First I must obtain official access to photograph each tower.  For towers in the United States, I have a process in place with the FAA for approval.  International access is another story. However, so far, so good with towers now completed in Finland, Sweden, Norway, Spain, Switzerland, and Italy.

But after several weeks of unanswered e-mails  to different airport authorities at the Suvarnabhumi International Airport, I became worried and turned to a personal contact in Bangkok, my childhood pen pal.  As pen pals, Choedkrid  “Jon” and I had exchanged letters throughout high school, and we met once during his visit to the United States in 1989.  We had reconnected earlier this year on Facebook and I found that he works for Thai Airways, quite coincidentally.

So, “Jon” made the calls for me and forwarded my requests to the proper authorities, which resulted in an official letter of permission – my golden ticket.  The BKK tower is a gigantic beauty, the weather was great for shooting, and I had a perfect photography session.

Photographing airport towers all over the world is an ambitious undertaking. Working in partnership with the Museum’s Development Office, we have created sponsorship opportunities that would open up the possibility of traveling to and highlighting as many of these historic landmarks as possible.

 

 

BKK

BKK Air Traffic Control Tower reflections on AeroThai building at Suvarnabhumi International Airport. Bangkok, Thailand Nov. 2011.

And about those floods —  Jon provided me with a close-up view from a military-style truck that drove through the flooded streets.  My feet stayed dry as I photographed the flood damage below.  I watched people navigate their way in trucks and boats on the newly formed waterways. Some on foot were partly submerged.  The citizens of Bangkok helped each other and readily adapted to new transportation and relocation adjustments in order to continue with their daily business routines.  I brought back from this recent trip not only new photographs for the Art of the Airport Tower, but a reconnection to an old friend and the utmost respect for a culture that stood tall in the face of a national crisis.

 

Floods

Downtown flood water in Bangkok, Thailand Nov. 2011

 

Bangkok

Downtown flood water in Bangkok, Thailand Nov. 2011 Credit: Carolyn Russo

Carolyn Russo is a museum specialist/photographer in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

 

Packing up Our Secret Decoder Ring

Blogs across the Smithsonian will give an inside look at the Institution’s archival collections and practices during a month long blogathon in celebration of October’s American Archives Month. See additional posts from our other participating blogs, as well as related events and resources, on the Smithsonian’s Archives Month website.”

 

Contents of Box

Flat box containing "Aircraft Recognition Training Materials" collection, Accession XXXX-0158.

 

You know when you’re packing up for a move to a new house boxes everywhere frantic activity to get everything stored away before the movers arrive,  and you still have to clean out the fridge.  Suddenly you come across an old family treasure a photo album, your old baseball cards, or maybe your raygun collection and everything stops while you rummage nostalgically for a few minutes. That’s what’s been going on from time to time in the Museum’s Archives Division offices, as we prepared for our move to the Stephen F. Udvar-Hazy Center this month. We would pause from time to time to appreciate some of our favorite things our chief photo archivist Melissa Keiser tells the story of one such artifact:

One day I was in the Archives storage box at the Paul E. Garber Restoration and Storage Facility in Silver Hill, Maryland looking for something in the Basil Lee Rowe Collection (NASM Accession XXXX-0019). The large 20 x 24 inch flat box I needed to check was under another big box; when I moved the top box, something inside the flat box slid heavily and went “Clunk!” Fearing some damage might have occurred to the contents, I opened the box to check.

 

The box, labeled Aircraft Recognition Training Materials, NASM Accession XXXX-0158, seemed to be full of a variety of manila envelopes, but on top of everything was this great big colorful circular thing with a World War II vintage P-39 screaming through the clouds — wow!

 

Wheel Chart

World War II Aircraft Identification Wheel Chart (Volvelle), NASM 9A-07661.

 

(It’s a wheel chart, also known as a volvelle, a device with a rich history, still used for pilots’ flight computers like the famous E6B “Whiz Wheel”.)

I’ve seen lots of aircraft recognition training aids in our collections, but they’re usually black and white silhouettes, or sober halftone photographs. This thing was more like a giant cereal box prize or a secret decoder ring! Obviously intended to appeal to a more general audience, I could picture Dad coming home from work one day with this spiffy doodad to share with the kids. Now we can ALL have fun watching the skies for enemy aircraft!

 

Reverse wheel chart

Reverse of Aircraft Identification Wheel Chart, NASM 9A-07662.

 

And on the back, there’s a selection of colorful US Army Air Forces squadron insignias. Melissa passed it around, and we all admired it for a minute or two, and then we got packing once again. Because the moving van is already at the door.

Allan Janus is a museum specialist in the Archives Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

Remembering Steve Jobs

Like so many of us, I too was saddened to hear of the death of Steve Jobs last week. I never owned an Apple II, but I recalled very well those early days of personal computing, when one had to choose among a variety of machines with different operating systems, hardware configurations, and processors. My first computer used the same processor as the Apple II (A Motorola 6502, if you care about these things), but it had a different operating system. Unfortunately, my memory is not as clear about the time, years later, when Steve Jobs visited the National Air and Space Museum.

 

NeXT

NeXT Workstation. Source: picture taken by Alexander Schaelss, 15 April 2004. License: GNU FDL; Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike

I believe it was around 1988, when the Beyond the Limits gallery was being installed. At that time Jobs had left Apple and was the head of a company called “NeXT,” which was selling a workstation, whose capabilities went beyond those of SUN or Silicon Graphics machines, not to mention ordinary personal computers.  In any event, Jobs had enough faith in what we were doing to make a donation to the Museum to support the Beyond the Limits Gallery. He also gave us a NeXT workstation, which we promised him we would use to develop a flight simulator for the gallery. But after some efforts, we eventually gave up. I regret we were not able to make his NeXT donation work. The NeXT computer was tricky to work with, but it did have its fans. One researcher at the European Center for Nuclear Research (CERN) in Switzerland got one, and while we were struggling to program ours, he used his to write a program for the Internet that he called the World Wide Web. Maybe you’ve heard of it.

Business Card

Steve Job's business card.

We searched in vain for photos of that evening when Jobs was here, but I did manage to find his business card in my card file. So long Steve, and thanks for having faith in the National Air and Space Museum. We will miss you.

Paul Ceruzzi is the Chair of the Space History Division at the National Air and Space Museum.

 

 

Flying the “Spirit of Tuskegee” Part III

This piece is a follow up to the posts below, in which I describe my experience flying a PT-13 Stearman that was used to train Tuskegee Airmen during WWII, from Moton Field, Alabama to Andrews AFB. This  aircraft has been accessioned into the collection of the National Museum of African American History and Culture. Please see:

Tuskegee Bird Flies North
Spirit of Tuskegee Arrives at Andrews AFB
“Spirit of Tuskegee” arrives at the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar – Part II

 

spirit of tuskegee

Capt. Matt Quy instructs modern military curator Dik Daso in the proper use of safety belts in the cockpit

“Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away…” I was a USAF pilot. But I had not flown an aircraft since I retired in 2001. I was both excited and a bit nervous as Matt provided my orientation to the Stearman front cockpit. It is a simple plane and the front seat offers tremendous vistas, very few cockpit instruments to check, a basic throttle and mixture control on the left side and a control stick that when seated is centered between the knees.

Sitting in the sun at Moton Field was HOT. I mean totally-sweaty-in-five-minutes hot. After I was safely strapped into the seat, Matt hopped into the rear cockpit, fastened his safety belt and shouted the traditional engine start warning, “Clear Prop!” He had pulled the propeller through the arc about six times before we got in and the engine putted and popped to life. The propwash immediately lowered the temperature 20 degrees and things became very comfortable.

After a quick wave to the ground staff, Matt taxied the Stearman to the active runway. Since his forward vision is limited, he steered from left to right making a continuous “S” pattern to maintain a partial view of the way ahead. As we approached the hammerhead (the end of the taxiway where engine run-up’s are done prior to takeoff) Matt transmitted out departure direction over the radio so that any aircraft nearby would be alerted to our initial route of flight. After holding the brakes and running the 300 horse power Lycoming engine to full while checking the engine instruments, Matt taxied onto the active runway, gradually pushed up the throttle and we began the takeoff roll. We were airborne in about 121 meters (400 feet).

On the departure leg at Moton Field, Matt asked me if I was ready to fly the aircraft. It took me a moment to stow my iPad as I was attempting to send a “tweet” from the air (It didn’t work). I had to tuck it under my leg because there was no map storage case in the front cockpit.  That task accomplished, I reported that I was ready and he passed me control in the way that all Air Force pilots do—“OK, You have the aircraft,” to which I replied, “I have the aircraft!” including a little shake of the control stick that signaled a definite transfer of aircraft control.

I was flying a Stearman that had been flown by Tuskegee Airmen during WW II…to myself I thought, “Are you KIDDING…this isn’t really happening.” But it was.

During the first leg of the journey, I worked on polishing my rusty pilot skills so that Matt wouldn’t need to worry much while I was at the controls. He gave me a few pointers on maintaining speed and altitude, adjusted the power for efficiency, and navigated via land features and towns. We swapped control a few times during the hop, and we both enjoyed the scenery and the camaraderie that Air Force pilots seem to always generate. By the end of the near two-hour flight I had narrowed my margins from plus or minus 91 meters (300 feet) in altitude to plus or minus 15 meters (50 feet) and my course control had improved as well. Matt joked with me about being a “mostly-jet” pilot as I hadn’t touched the rudder once during the flight. For a propeller-driven airplane, yaw is created by the rotation of the prop, and for a real “stick and rudder man,” being just a little off coordinated flight is easy to pick up. Next leg, I started touching a little right rudder to coax the Stearman into flying a perfectly straight path through the sky. I think I had figured it out by the last day. Only Matt can confirm that fact.

In my last blog entry I recounted our flight over Appomattox Courthouse (“Spirit of Tuskegee” arrives at the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar – Part II). As far as linking history to the plane, that was by far the most amazing moment. But there were other significant and extremely fun times during our 11 hours in the air. Here are a few of those.

 

On the way to Toccoa, Georgia, Tina had asked Matt to fly past Currahee Mountain. The rough translation from the native language is, “stands alone.” Appropriate as the 242 meter (800 foot) mountain can be seen from many miles away when the air is crisp and clear. During WW II, several paratrooper units trained for combat at the foot of Currahee.

 

currahee mountain

Currahee Mountain, Georgia, through the Stearman wing

When we landed at Toccoa, the weather looked a bit threatening. As Matt pulled up the fuel pump (that’s right, you just taxi right up to the pump like you do in your car), a young man who worked at the airfield approached Matt and offered to shelter the Stearman in a nearby maintenance hangar to protect it from looming thunderstorms. So Matt graciously accepted and we all breathed just a bit easier knowing that the aircraft was safe and sound. And while it did not rain or thunder while we were at Toccoa, the generosity and thoughtfulness demonstrated by this young fellow was just wonderful.

 

MX Hangar in Toccoa

The PT-13D in the MX hangar at Toccoa

On the next leg to Shelby, NC, Matt and I enjoyed some spectacular cloud formations and wonderful, very spiritual images of the sun piercing through them—breathtaking and humbling.

 

sun

Looking back, much of the flight was stunning and spiritual

Perhaps the most fun we had on the trip was at Orange, VA, where we quite accidentally met up with a great friend and fellow pilot, Matt Jolley. Jolley keeps his L-2 at Orange and happened to be there to move his plane around and secure another family member’s flyable Chipmunk before the arrival of a sizeable storm. But instead, in another simple act of kindness, Jolley gave Quy the keys to his hangar so that we could get the Stearman under cover, and, as it turned out, it was a very good thing. Although Matt and I had planned to make an additional hop that afternoon, the weather turned out to be too extensive so Matt decided to stay put in Orange. We all helped moving and tying down the three vintage planes and finished securing them just before a gulley-washer of a rain storm struck the field. The storm provided another tremendous image to add to the trip log.

 

Rain

Man, did it ever rain. Even though Matt Jolley gave up his hangar for the Stearman, he was rewarded with this remarkable shot of his L-2 surrounded by a colorful rainbow.

Matt Jolley happens also to be the host of the only 24/7 radio program devoted entirely to warbirds—WarbirdRadio.com.  So to pass some time while waiting for the storm to pass, Jolley interviewed Quy for the radio program.

 

Matt Quy and Matt Jolley

Matt Quy (left) and Matt Jolley

The following day, the three of us had a rare opportunity to do a little bit of formation flying—us in the Stearman and Jolley in the Chipmunk. We took off just after dawn and the rising sun was simply unearthly.

 

Chipmunk and Stearman

The Chipmunk and the Stearman on the ground at Orange, VA

 

Jolley returned to the field and landed while Matt demonstrated some simply acrobatic maneuvers for me in the Stearman. In reality, this is a very maneuverable warbird and can turn on a dime. We returned to Orange for some fuel, said our “thank yous” and farewells to Matt Jolley and the airfield staff, and took to the skies for the trip to Manassas, VA. We had an appointment with inspectors from the TSA and we didn’t want to be late. I took a short video at Manassas of what the landing looks like from the front cockpit. Matt is actually much smoother on landing than the clip shows as I “fumbled the football at touchdown” for just a second.

When a civil airplane is going to land inside the controlled airspace that surrounds the greater Washington DC area, the pilot, plane, and passengers must meet with inspectors from the TSA prior to entering the controlled area. While Matt is an active duty USAF officer, the plane is technically a civilian. We were to meet the team at Manassas for clearance before the short hop to Andrews AFB that afternoon. We arrived at the terminal building and waiting for us there was TSA—not one or two, but four TSA inspectors! After a search and baggage inspection, the TSA folks examined the Stearman inside and out and were finally satisfied that Matt, me, and the Stearman were cleared to proceed to Andrews AFB. They had a sense of humor after all was done and even posed with our luggage at the plane. They were all great young Americans.

 

TSA

The TSA team with Matt at Manassas

Then it was time to fly over to Andrews AFB, my last leg in the PT-13D. The flight went by far too quickly as both Matt and I were busy map reading to remain outside of the controlled airspace until it became necessary to enter for the approach to the airfield. After another perfect landing, Matt taxied the Stearman to Hangar #3 where it would remain until Friday—the day of its final flight to the Hazy Center.

After engine shutdown, Matt graciously fielded interview question and posed for pictures. He is a tremendous ambassador for the Tuskegee Airmen and the Air Force.

 

Quy

Capt. Quy fields a few questions upon arrival at Andrews AFB

In the final installment of this series I will fill you in on the interim plans for the PT-13D at the Udvar-Hazy Center near Dulles International Airport and also how the cooperative spirit at the Smithsonian helped to bring the Spirit of Tuskegee to Washington.

If you check our flight itinerary below, you will see some pretty rural locations. When flying under see and avoid rules in visual flight rules weather it is best to keep well away from large towns—and airports. At each stop the people we met were absolutely fabulous. They shared protective hangar space, helped to refuel the aircraft, lent us a car, drove us to a hotel, picked us up from a hotel, admired Matt’s plane, and took photographs. What great Americans—kind, thoughtful, interested, and aviation fanatics.

Flight Log:

Sunday, 31 July
Moton Field to Covington Muni, GA 1:47
Covington, GA to Toccoa, GA
Via Currahee Mountain
1:00
Toccoa, GA to Shelby, NC 1:45
Monday, 1 August
Shelby, NC to Blue Ridge Airport, Martinsville, VA 1:43
Martinsville, VA to Orange, VA
Via Appomattox Courthouse
2:00
Tuesday, 2 August
Orange, VA (Local Hop) :55
Orange, VA to Manassas, VA 1:00
Manassas, VA to Andrews AFB, MD :50

Dik Daso is a curator in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

Moving the National Air and Space Museum’s Archives

 

garber

The Museum's Archives Division Building 12 at the Paul E. Garber Facility. Photograph by Eric Long (SI 2001-1386)

 

October is American Archives Month—a time to celebrate the importance of archives across the country. In honor of Archives Month, we’re participating in a pan-Smithsonian blogathon throughout the month. We, and other bloggers from across the Smithsonian, will be blogging about our archival collections, issues, and behind-the-scenes projects. We encourage you to check out the posts on all of the participating blogs, as well as related events and resources.


You may have heard that the National Air and Space Museum Archives is moving.  The collections and offices are moving from the current location of Building 12 at the Paul E. Garber Restoration and Storage Facility and from the Museum in Washington, D.C. to their new location at the Steven F. Udvar Hazy Center.

 

 

archives staff

Archives staff tour the Archives' new facility at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center. Photograph by Allan Janus (NASM 9A08827).

 

The new Archives storage area is over 1,486 square meters (16,000 square feet), three times the storage space the Museum had formerly including seven to eight times more space for rare manuscripts and motion picture film. The storage area is modern, climate-controlled, and secured.  There is 446 square meters (4,800 square feet) of workroom and office space for the staff.

The staff has inventoried and packed over 14,000 cubic feet of material, including 16,000 reels of microfilm; more than 20,000 motion picture or video items; 60,000 paper drawings; 70,000 technical manuals and two million photographs for the move to the Udvar-Hazy Center.

The Archives will also have a new 1,951 square meter (21,000 square foot) reading room that overlooks the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar.  Our reading room in the Museum in Washington D.C. will remain open to researchers.

 

 

reading room

Archives reading room, Mall Museum. Photograph by Eric Long (NASM 9A08105).

 

The big move begins in October, which happens to be National Archives Month, and will be completed by Thanksgiving.  We will keep you posted on our progress so watch this space and our website for details about the move and some of the interesting collection items we found during the inventory and packing.

 

 

staff

Archives Staff at Building 12, Garber Facility - from left, Marilyn Graskowiak, David Schwartz, Mark Kahn, Larry Wilson, Paul Silbermann. Photograph by Allan Janus (NASM 9A08828).

 

Marilyn Graskowiak is the Museum’s Supervisory Archivist and chair of the Archives Division.

Preserving and Displaying the “Bat-Wing Ship” – August Update

This post is a follow up to Preserving and Displaying the “Bat-Wing Ship” published on June 24, 2011.

The Smithsonian Museum Conservation Institute (MCI) Conservators and National Air and Space Museum staff spent July and August continuing to investigate the Horten H IX V3 jet fighter for preservation and preparation for display.  Senior Conservator Melvin Wachowiak took the following detailed photographs on Tuesday, June 21, 2011.

Conservators are attempting to determine if the degradation of the plywood is caused by a failure of the adhesive or by biological deterioration of the wood.  Understanding the cause of the deterioration will guide their immediate and long-term preservation strategies.  One of the greatest challenges in this treatment will be in determining the most appropriate adhesive and finding effective methods of getting the adhesive to penetrate into deep areas of delamination. Photos 1 and 2 (seen below)—show 11 sheets of 5 cross-laminated plies each.

 

Horten

Photo 1. Artisans have built airplanes with plywood since well before World War I because crossing each layer, or ply, counters the weakness of a single sheet when bent with the grain rather than across the grain (Melvin Wachowiak /Smithsonian MCI photo).

 

 

Horten

Photo 2. (Melvin Wachowiak /Smithsonian MCI photo).

 

Horten Wing

A robust network of welded steel tubing frames the right outer edge of the H IX V3 center section. Behind the tubing lies a maze of plumbing for one of the Jumo 004 jet engines, the fuel system, and other equipment (Melvin Wachowiak /Smithsonian MCI photo).

 

Horten

German artisans formed the wood around the nose of the H IX center section using steam to make it soft and pliable, and then bending it to shape. Said Melvin Wachowiak , Senior Conservator, Smithsonian Museum Conservation Institute, "I am still impressed by the bending of the laminated plywood into a conical section without cracks. Nearly 70 years on! The degradation of the broken plys is more like a form of brown rot, but we will have to see what turns up (after further analysis)." (Melvin Wachowiak /Smithsonian MCI photo).

 

Horten

This photograph by Kenneth S. Kik shows the outer wing panels attached to the center section of the H IX V3 now in treatment at the Paul E. Garber Facility. (Photo credit: Mr. Kenneth S. Kik, 1950. Copyright unknown)

 

Russ Lee is a curator in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum, and Melvin Wachowiak is a Senior Conservator at the National Air and Space Museum.