Archive for the 'Highlights from the Collection' Category

The Rutan Voyager

Published by The National Air and Space Museum on December 23, 2011 in Aviation, Behind The Scenes, Highlights from the Collection, On View at the Museum and Stories.
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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

That’s One Small Step. . .

Published by The National Air and Space Museum on December 12, 2011 in Behind The Scenes, Hidden Treasures, Highlights from the Collection, restoration and space.
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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

A Poultry Pilot

Published by Allan Janus on November 22, 2011 in Archives, Aviation, Hidden Treasures and Highlights from the Collection.
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Turkey Aviator

A Turkey Aviator - Chromolithographic Postcard, c.1910. SI 96-15868

 

Turkeys are generally  considered to be flightless birds, but as this postcard from the files of the Museum’s Archives Division vividly illustrates, they are capable of short hops, especially when at the controls of biplanes.

If you’re flying to your Thanksgiving destination, bon voyage, and keep your eyes peeled for flying turkeys.

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

Taking Flight with Lady Liberty

Published by The National Air and Space Museum on October 28, 2011 in Archives, Aviation, Highlights from the Collection, History and Uncategorized.
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What comes to mind when you think of the Statue of Liberty? America, freedom, democracy. Her image is immediately recognized around the world as an ambassador for the United States and icon of the American dream.  She has been the focal point of many a celebration over the years and in several cases, the gracious hostess (and waypoint) for aerial races and demonstrations.  In celebration of her 125th anniversary, we gathered a few images, objects, and posters that feature inspiring views of Lady Liberty in the context of flight.

Wilbur Wright flies a Wright Type A by the Statue of Liberty during the Hudson-Fulton Celebration in 1909. (Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum Archives)

Wilbur Wright  was contracted for $15,000 to make a series of flights during the two-week Hudson-Fulton Celebration in 1909, which was commemorating the 300th anniversary of Henry Hudson’s first entry into what would become New York Harbor, and the centennial of Robert Fulton’s first voyage of his North River Steamboat up the Hudson River in 1809. Wilbur made a seven-minute flight on September 29th , circling the Statue of Liberty.  On October 4th, he made a long-distance flight of more than 33 minutes and approximately 20 miles from Governor’s Island to Grant’s Tomb and back, again circling the Statue of Liberty.  It is estimated that a million people witnessed Wilbur’s flight up the Hudson from Governor’s Island. For these flights, Wilbur attached a red canoe under the airplane as a make-shift pontoon in the event he was forced down in the water.  The canoe survives and today is on display in Carillon Historical Park in Dayton, Ohio.

The popular journal "Harper's Weekly" covered Wilbur's circling of the Statue of Liberty. An original is on display in "The Wright Brothers & The Invention of the Aerial Age" exhibition in Washington, DC. (Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum Archives)

John Bevins Moisant flew over New York Harbor in 1910 in a Blériot XI monoplane. This flight took place during the Statue of Liberty Flight prize race on October 27, 1910.  The race was the final event in one of the first major flying meetings held in the U.S., the International Aviation Tournament at Belmont Park, NY.

Clock from the Lindbergh King Collection ( (Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum)

Lady Liberty appears frequently in memorabilia commemorating Charles Lindbergh’s historic solo transatlantic flight from New York to Paris. On this clock, displayed at the Museum’s Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center, the Statue of Liberty represents New York (America) while the Eiffel Tower represents Paris (Europe) with the Spirit of St. Louis flying between them. Not to scale, of course.

TWA used an inspiring visual of Lady Liberty with one of their Lockheed Constellation aircraft in this advertisement for commercial passenger service to and across the U.S. (Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum)

 

Bill Bennett demonstrates his tow-kite in a flight around the Statue of Liberty on July 4, 1969. (Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum)

Bill Bennett played a key role in the initial development of hang gliding in the U.S. He was a spectacular promoter of the sport and stirred publicity for his tow-kites when he flew near the Statue of Liberty on July 4, 1969, released his towrope and circled the monument twice, landing at its base. Several of his gliders are in our collection.

In 1986, a major celebration was held for the restoration and 100 year anniversary of the Statue of Liberty. Liberty Weekend included a blimp race and flyover by the U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds aerial demonstration team.  We don’t have any images from Liberty Weekend handy, but here is a great shot of the Thunderbirds with Lady Liberty in 2005.

Six F-16 Fighting Falcons with the U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds aerial demonstration team fly in formation over the Statue of Liberty before an air show May 26, 2005. (U.S. Air Force photo by Staff Sgt. Josh Clendenen)

Over the years, the Statue of Liberty has symbolized many things, Freedom, Enlightenment, Compassion, Acceptance to all those arriving in the land of opportunity — what does she mean to you?

Secretary Langley on a Really Good Cup of Coffee

Published by Allan Janus on October 25, 2011 in Archives, Hidden Treasures, Highlights from the Collection and History.
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Langley

Samuel P. Langley, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. Photograph by R. H. Lord

Samuel P. Langley, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. Photograph by R. H. Lord, SI 87-17019.

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.

As the Museum’s Archives Division packs up and continues with our epic move to the Stephen F. Udvar-Hazy Center, we’re occasionally featuring highlights from our collections. When I was working on a collection of the aeronautical papers of Samuel Pierpont Langley (1834-1906), the third Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, I was struck by the wealth of detail in his research and the meticulousness of his note-taking. And as a man whose interests ranged from astronomy, astrophysics, aeronautics, and bird flight, mathematics, and the reckoning of standard time, Langley enjoyed observing and describing all sorts of processes — and then suggesting improvements. Take this undated memo in which Langley describes in minute detail the preparation of of a really good cup of coffee at the Posthof café in the spa town of Carlsbad in Bohemia, then part of Austria-Hungary (now Karlovy Vary in the Czech Republic) to his niece Mary:

Dear Mary,

I hope this will interest you.

Affectionately,

Your Uncle Samuel

The best coffee in Carlsbad is at the Posthof, and is as good as I know of anywhere. I have been looking into the kitchen this morning and seeing it prepared. The statement that figs or anything of the kind are employed is legendary. There is absolutely nothing but coffee, and it owes its superior excellence to the freshness and the pains taken in its making.

1. The coffee in the berry.

There are four kinds of coffee bean employed: the Menado, Ceylon, Java and Preanger. I do not know the English equivalents for the first and last. They are of very different sizes indeed, and this difference in size of the berry must make it difficult to burn them equally.

2. Roasting.

The roasting is done in a rotary wire mesh over a slow fire. The coffee is renewed three times daily. Each time 10 to 20 pounds of coffee is roasted, a girl turning the handle, and the process occupying in each case nearly an hour. In spite of this care, when the beans come out some of them are very dark and these are picked out.

3. Grinding.

The coffee is then ground to a very uniform fineness, something between the head of a small pin and a coarse sand. It is in no ways ground into a snuff-like powder, but is always clearly perceptible as particles between the fingers. The color of the ground coffee is a light chestnut.

4. Mixing with water.

Somewhat over one-quarter of a pound of the ground coffee is measured in a tin and this is emptied into a tin pail holding, I suppose, four to six gallons. Into this is poured, actually boiling soft water, enough to make 10 portions of the coffee. This softness is considered so important, that if the water be at all hard, a little soda is first added to soften it. The coffee and water are then well stirred with a spoon, and the lid put on and allowed to remain two minutes, when it is poured onto a thick straining cloth placed in a tin vessel with large holes at the bottom through which it drains into a white stone pitcher, which is itself set in boiling water. From this pitcher it is poured into the little ones in which it is served on the table.

5. Serving.

The amount of coffee and water just described will, as I have said, make 10 portions, each of which will be, with the addition of the milk, two of the little cups here, or hardly one good breakfast cup as we have it at home. It is served ordinarily with milk which has been boiled, and which has a little whipped cream on top.

6. Comment.

The one criticism I can make is that the coffee with the above proportion of water, is served too diluted for a café au lait. It would be better made half as strong again and diluted with a larger proportion of hot milk.

 

(From the Samuel P. Langley Collection (Accession XXXX-0494), box 38, folder 58. Another collection of Langley’s papers is held by the Smithsonian Institution Archives.)

 

Very interesting — who actually uses figs in coffee-making? But if Secretary Langley were still with us today, I think that I would rather not be the barista at his local coffee shop.

 

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

 

The Tomboy of the Air

Published by Elizabeth Borja on October 23, 2011 in Archives and Highlights from the Collection.
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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 .

One hundred and one years ago, on October 23, 1910, Blanche Stuart Scott made her first public flight with the Glenn Curtiss Exhibition Team in Fort Wayne, Indiana.

Scott, billed as the “Tomboy of the Air,” is one of America’s earliest female aviators.  There is conflicting evidence regarding the exact date of Blanche Stuart Scott’s first solo flight, so we may never determine which of Scott or Bessica Raiche was, indeed, America’s first female to fly solo.

 

Blanche Stuart Scott

Blanche Stuart Scott seated at the controls of a Curtiss Model D, circa early 1910s. SI-72-4803-A

 

There are also conflicting reports on Scott’s appearance in Fort Wayne.  The Fort Wayne Journal-Gazette reported that Scott flew across the field and landed immediately, though she had wished to make a few circles.  In later years, Scott remembered making eight circles of the field.  In most reports, Scott’s flew at a height of approximately twelve feet, ostensibly because show promoters did not want outside spectators to get a free show.

Regardless of these conflicting reports, Blanche Stuart Scott is a pioneer of American aviation.  The Blanche Stuart Scott Collection (Acc. No. XXXX-0062) at the National Air and Space Museum Archives Division contains 0.0283 cubic meters (one cubic foot) of material relating to the pioneering aviatrix. It includes correspondence, memorabilia, and a great many newspaper clippings.   A finding aid to the collection can be found in both PDF and HTML formats.  The Archives Division also has a sizeable file on Scott in its Biographical Technical Files.

Elizabeth C. Borja is a reference services archivist in the National Air and Space Museum’s Archives Division.

Packing up Our Secret Decoder Ring

Published by Allan Janus on October 16, 2011 in Archives, Behind The Scenes, Hidden Treasures, Highlights from the Collection and Uncategorized.
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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.

Mountain of Arabia

Published by Allan Janus on October 9, 2011 in Archives, Hidden Treasures, Highlights from the Collection and History.
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Joseph Mountain

Joseph D. Mountain. Al Jubayl, Saudi Arabia, May, 1935.Photograph by Max Steineke. SI 92-16169

 

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.


In 1934, Joseph Dunlap Mountain, a thirty-two year old former Army Air Service pilot, signed on with the California-Arabian Standard Oil Company (CASOC, now Saudi Aramco) to serve as a pilot, aerial photographer and mechanic on the company’s 1934-’35 survey expedition to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

 

water holeWater vendor. Al Hofuf, Saudi Arabia, March 19, 1935. Photograph by Joseph D. Mountain. SI 92-16126.

 

The expedition was, of course, looking for oil. In addition to the aerial photographs he took from the expedition’s Fairchild 71 monoplane, Mountain also snapped hundreds of other photographs, making a fascinating document of the desert kingdom at the very edge of the tremendous changes that the petroleum era brought to the Gulf. The images are a fascinating record of traditional Saudi Arabian life, crafts and architecture. Mountain photographed portraits of dancers at Eid al-Fitr celebrations, market scenes in Hofuf and the Old Town of Al Jubayl, camel caravans, Saudi hunters with their hawks, and pearl fishermen and their dhows. Mountain also extensively photographed members of the CASOC expedition – Art Brown, Hugh Burchiel, J. W. (Soak) Hoover, Russell Gerow, Dick Kerr, Schuyler (Krug) Henry and Max Steineke – at work and relaxing with their Saudi co-workers and acquaintances.

 

 

well

Looking down on the well, Fort Dammam. January 5, 1935.Photograph by Joseph D. Mountain. SI 92-15966.

 

Later, Joseph Mountain flew as a pilot for Trans World Airlines. During World War II, he returned to active duty with the U.S. Army Air Corps. He was awarded the Bronze Star while serving in the China-Burma-India Theater and supervising supply missions over “The Hump” – the dangerous air route over the Himalaya Range. After the war, Mountain worked in the nascent computer industry and founded a computer manufacturing company and a data processing firm. Joseph Mountain died on November 25, 1970 at the age of 68, and his family donated his photographs, diaries and flight log books, reports, and maps to the National Air and Space Museum. His Saudi photographs can be viewed online – portraits of an exotic, but not so distant past.

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

Getting “Enterprise” Ready for Prime Time

Published by The National Air and Space Museum on June 6, 2011 in Behind The Scenes, Exhibitions, Highlights from the Collection, History, restoration and space.
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Early on the morning of March 1, 2004, a small band of preservation specialists consisting of Anne McCombs, Steve Kautner, and Ed Mautner walked into the James S. McDonnell Space Hangar at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center.  There was but a single artifact in that huge hangar — OV-101, Space Shuttle Test Vehicle, Enterprise.  The hangar was scheduled to open to the public on October 20, 2004. We had eight  months to clean the exterior and interior; repair and repaint damage to the faux tiles that covered the nose, belly, vertical stabilizer, and rudder; then strip and repaint the center fuselage and payload bay doors.  There we stood with buckets of water, gallon jugs of Amway LOC, which was recommended by NASA and their contractor United Space Alliance (USA), boxes of cotton rags, and a few ladders that would only elevate us 3-3.5 meters (10-12 feet) above the ground.  The size and scope of our task was truly daunting as Enterprise was 37 meters (122 feet) long with a wingspan of 24 meters (78 feet) and a vertical stabilizer that topped out at nearly 18 meters (60 feet) above the floor.

Space Shuttle Enterprise

The Space Shuttle "Enterprise" was the first spacecraft to be moved into the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center's James S. McDonnell Space Hangar in 2004.

Enterprise was originally planned to be an orbiter but was never fully outfitted for spaceflight.  In 1977, it served first as a test vehicle atop a modified 747 in a series of drop and glide tests from about 7,620 meters (25,000 feet).  When its primary test programs ended in 1979, it languished and its appearance began to deteriorate.  In 1983 it was refurbished with a fresh coat of paint and new markings for the 1983 Paris Air Show and the 1984 World’s Fair in New Orleans.  NASA transferred Enterprise to the National Air and Space Museum in 1985 where it was stored outdoors for two years and in a non-climate-controlled hangar for 17 years. During this time it became dirty and its paint continued to deteriorate.  After it came to the Museum, Enterprise continued to be a test bed for NASA. They performed launch vibration tests, facility test checks, arresting barrier, and emergency crew egress tests.  These last tests scarred the paint on the forward fuselage and payload bay doors.   Our job was to restore it to its  former pristine appearance.

 

Space Shuttle Enterprise

Space Shuttle "Enterprise" flew into Washington Dulles International Airport on November 16, 1985 atop a modified Boeing 747 carrier aircraft. Using cranes, the "Enterprise" was removed from the top of the 747 and lowered to the tarmac at Dulles on November 17. On December 6 the National Aeronautic and Space Administration transferred title of the "Enterprise" to the National Air and Space Museum at a black tie gala at the airport.

The ladders made the decision of where to start easy — hit the low hanging fruit — landing gear, wheel wells, and the belly.   As the month progressed we received high lift equipment which gave access to most of the top portions of Enterprise. We also received an additional member, Tony Carp, to clean and repair the vertical stabilizer and rudder. Tony also coordinated the removal of the OMS (Orbital Maneuvering System) pods, which were sent back to the Paul E. Garber Preservation, Restoration and Storage Facility for restoration.  Once finished with the exterior, we cleaned the cockpit, payload bay, and aft power plant bay.

Our next task was to scrape and sand off the deteriorated paint on the center fuselage and payload bay doors, an area measuring over 372 square meters (4,000 square feet). We did this from scaffolding erected on June 17th.  This structure enclosed and bridged Enterprise, allowing us to safely reach all of the upper areas. With the clock ticking, additional members were allocated on August 9th to do the final sanding, scraping, and paint prep, which we finished on September 2nd.

 

Space Shuttle Enterprise

The Space Shuttle "Enterprise" surrounded by scaffolding that allowed our collections specialists to safely reach all the upper areas of the spacecraft.

Our donated aerospace paint and primer arrived September 17.  Due to the space hangar’s filtration system and health and safety concerns we had to use rollers and apply the paint between 5:30 p.m. and 6:00 a.m.  PPG-DeSoto, the paint donor, provided an additive that “flowed” the rolled-on paint to give a smooth, sprayed-on appearance.  We finished the prep, priming, and white top coat in the wee hours of September 29.  The scaffolding came down the next day and we were left with just our original team of four plus two part-time volunteers to remove masking; do final clean-up and equipment stowage; touch up many of the polyurethane foam faux tiles; and restore the markings, “United States,” NASA “Worm” logo, and the name Enterprise on the forward payload bay doors.

 

paint

Preservation specialists, Tony Carp (top left) and Bob Weihrauch (bottom right), paint the Space Shuttle "Enterprise" as part of its restoration in 2004.

Long before work began, several curatorial decisions were made. First, Enterprise did not need a full restoration.  It was structurally intact and had no signs of serious corrosion.  So it would be cleaned, signs of corrosion or deterioration noted, and deteriorated paint and markings would be replaced.  The second decision was to return it to its appearance in 1985. To achieve this we carefully traced all of the markings before paint removal began.  When we had sanded through the top layer of paint we discovered earlier markings similar to those of 1985, but with slightly different shape, location, and color shades.  We traced and made notes of these for future reference.  Once repainted, we retraced the markings in pencil then hand-painted them as had been done originally.  While doing this a contract crew was assembling the barriers around Enterprise in preparation for the “Grand Opening” just days away.  We finished clean-up and detailing on October 18, 2004.

While we never let our eyes slip from our target date, there were interesting diversions that made a challenging project pretty enjoyable.  We were tasked to assist NASA and USA in several of their planned visits to inspect or work on Enterprise.  One day, Col. Joe Engle, one of Enterprise’s command test pilots, came to visit his old craft, inquire about our work, and congratulate us on our efforts.  Another highlight was a visit from Col. Pamela Melroy, USAF.  Col. Melroy was an Air Force test pilot and would become a two-mission space shuttle pilot (STS-92 and 112), and mission commander (STS-120). We met her while she was still a member of the Shuttle Columbia accident investigation team. We escorted her through Enterprise and she also expressed pleasure with our efforts.

The Enterprise project was grand in scope; interesting and exciting every day; and very rewarding in terms of personal gratification.  Our small crew worked without a budget, and with limited resources, personnel, and time.  For so many reasons, I recall looking forward to getting in to work on it every day.  It was an exciting environment that literally put us on a stage where the visitors were always viewing us from barriers at the front of the hangar and from the hangar overlook.  And when the scaffolding was assembled, there was the ever-present element of danger.  Everyday, several times a day, we had to free climb 9-12 meters (30-40 feet) straight up the rungs to the platforms next to or over the shuttle.  Once on top, we could attach our safety harness tethers to the scaffold structure. In eight months we had only one injury.  One of our members slipped off the top of the payload bay doors.  Due to the harness and tether, he suffered only a banged knee.  Our constant discussions about safety and the use of fall protection certainly paid dividends.

 

Enterprise

The Space Shuttle "Enterprise," before and after its restoration.

During our days working on Enterprise we received several recurring questions about it from docents and visitors: is it real and did it go into space?  What does it look like inside and will the Museum let visitors walk through it?  Well, it is quite “real.”  It was the first shuttle of the first batch or “block” of three and with the demise of Challenger and Columbia, it is the sole survivor of that block.  Discovery, Atlantis, and Endeavour constitute the second block of shuttles.  However, as Enterprise was never fully fitted-out to be an orbiter, the payload bay is a maze of structure and framework that poses too many hazards to permit public entry.  The cockpit, bare of instrumentation, is very small and it would be difficult to route the more than one million visitors who might wish to enter it each year. Furthermore, the National Air and Space Museum has not in the past opened accessioned aircraft or spacecraft for public entry due to preservation concerns.  For all of these reasons the Museum decided not to permit access into Enterprise.

 

crew

Left to right: Steve Kautner, Dave Wilson, Bob McLean (background), Ed Mautner (foreground), Bob Weihrauch, Will Lee, Anne Mccombs.

 

Space Shuttle Enterprise

The Space Shuttle "Enterprise" is the centerpiece of the James S. McDonnell Space Hangar of the National Air and Space Museum's Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center

On the morning of October 19, 2004, members of the press began to arrive to photograph, video, and write about the opening of the John S. McDonnell Space Hangar and its most prominent artifact, the Space Shuttle Enterprise. The public got its first glimpse the following day.  The space hangar and Enterprise were received with praise and excitement by NASA and Museum staff, the media, and the visiting public.  In addition, our small team received one of the two prestigious Peer Awards presented by the Museum for 2004.  Was it a rewarding project? You bet.

Ed Mautner is a preservation specialist in the Collections Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

The Real Wright Flyer

Published by The National Air and Space Museum on April 19, 2011 in Aviation, Behind The Scenes, Highlights from the Collection, History and restoration.
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The Smithsonian literally has millions of objects in its vast collections.  Everything from specimens of flora and fauna from around the globe, to machines that have shaped the modern world, to cultural artifacts that reflect our rich diversity, to important works of art.  Even live animals at the National Zoo.  Every aspect of human endeavor and creativity and the natural world can be found at the Smithsonian.

Among this great store of history, science, and art objects, some stand above the rest for their uniqueness, historical importance, and cultural value.  In addition, they are objects that are powerfully associated with the Smithsonian.  I like to call these “signature Smithsonian objects.”  Things such as the Hope Diamond, the Star Spangled Banner, the Lansdowne portrait of George Washington, and Charles Lindbergh’s Spirit of St. Louis airplane are good examples—one-of-a-kind items, familiar to all, and widely known to reside at the Smithsonian.  Also in this subset of signature objects is one of the most significant in the entire Smithsonian collection—the Wright Flyer, the world’s first airplane.

Wright Flyer

The original 1903 Wright Flyer at the National Air and Space Museum

The flying machine with which Wilbur and Orville Wright made those historic first flights at Kitty Hawk on a cold December morning in 1903 represents a moment when the world changed.  The ability to fly has so dramatically refashioned human existence that the achievement of the Wright brothers defies measure.  When the Wright Flyer was installed in the Smithsonian in 1948, a visiting dignitary at the ceremony remarked, “It is a little as if we had before us the original wheel.”

For the last 25 years, I have had the great privilege to be the curator of the Wright Flyer.  During that quarter century I have pored over every detail of the airplane, studied every aspect of its design, written three books about the Wright brothers, mounted a major exhibition, and given countless lectures about this artifact.  I have spent a career with this object and at this point have a very personal connection with the Flyer.   I’ll even admit to a bit of an emotional attachment to this machine.  Needless to say, I never tire of talking about the Flyer and sharing its wonderful story.  But there is one thing that always frustrates me when I hear it—when people say the airplane in the Smithsonian is not the real Wright Flyer!  Let me assure you, the airplane on view at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum is indeed the actual machine with which the Wrights made their pathbreaking first flights at Kitty Hawk.  IT IS THE REAL WRIGHT FLYER.

So how could anyone doubt this?  Most of the reasons are simple.  First, the Flyer currently doesn’t look old.  The near pristine white fabric on its wooden framework doesn’t look to be a century old.  Well, it isn’t.  In 1984 and 1985, the museum did conservation work on the Flyer.  It was disassembled, inspected, cleaned, and documented inside and out.  The most important decision we had to make was whether or not to save the tattered fabric.  There was much internal debate about this, but in the end we put new fabric on the Flyer.  Critical to that decision was that the fabric then on the airplane was not on it when it flew in 1903.  In 1928, Orville Wright loaned the Flyer to the London Science Museum, where it stayed for 20 years.  In preparation for the trip to England, Orville recovered the Flyer entirely.   So when the Smithsonian received the airplane in 1948, none of the fabric on it dated from 1903.  Considering its condition and that the airplane never flew with that fabric, for the long-term preservation interest of the artifact, new fabric was put on in 1985, precisely to the specifications of 1903.  So to the uninitiated, the Flyer currently doesn’t look old and people sometimes make the assumption that it is not the original airframe.

Fabric

New fabric being sewn on to the original framework of the 1903 Wright Flyer.

Another reason visitors sometimes think the Wright Flyer in the Smithsonian is not real is because so many modern reproductions of the Flyer are on view in other museums.  Especially leading up to the centennial of the first flights in 2003, many reproduction Flyers have been built.   With so many copies out there and the real Wright Flyer having relatively new fabric on it, one can see how visitors might get confused.

Finally, many people know that after the Wrights made their last flight on December 17, 1903, the Flyer was upturned by a strong gust of wind and severely damaged.  Thinking the airplane was destroyed, some of these folks are under the impression that the original 1903 Wright Flyer doesn’t exist at all.

So let me make clear for all, when you visit the National Air and Space Museum and stand before the Wright Flyer you will be just a few feet away from the original, real, world-changing 1903 Wright Flyer—not a copy.  There is also a good chance you’ll find me in the gallery spending time with my old friend, the endlessly fascinating world’s first airplane—a signature Smithsonian object.

Peter Jakab

Peter Jakab seated in front of the 1903 Wright Flyer

Peter L. Jakab is the associate director for collections and curatorial affairs at the National Air and Space Museum