Archive for the 'space' Category

Shuttle Service to DC

Much to the delight of large crowds below, Space shuttle Discovery, mounted atop a NASA 747 Shuttle Carrier Aircraft (SCA), made several passes over the Washington, DC area yesterday. Discovery, the first orbiter retired from NASA’s shuttle fleet, completed 39 missions, spent 365 days in space, orbited the Earth 5,830 times, and traveled 148,221,675 miles. NASA will transfer Discovery to the National Air and Space Museum to begin its new mission to commemorate past achievements in space and to educate and inspire future generations of explorers. The ceremony will take place tomorrow, Thursday, April 19th at the Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA.

Here is a selection of photographs from yesterday’s fly-over:

 

shuttle

The Shuttle Carrier Aircraft takes off from Kennedy Space Center in Florida carrying Space Shuttle Discovery.

Discovery

Space Shuttle Discovery makes a low pass over a crowd at the Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA.

Discovery

Space Shuttle Discovery, mounted atop a NASA 747 Shuttle Carrier Aircraft, flies near the U.S. Capitol.

Discovery

Space Shuttle Discovery, mounted on the 747 Shuttle Carrier Aircraft, flies near the Smithsonian Castle.

Discovery

A young spectator holds a model of space shuttle Discovery, mounted atop a NASA 747 Shuttle Carrier Aircraft (SCA), as the actual shuttle flies overhead.


shuttle

Space shuttle Discovery, mounted atop a NASA 747 Shuttle Carrier Aircraft (SCA), making a low pass over spectators in Virginia.

Discovery

Space shuttle Discovery, mounted atop a NASA 747 Shuttle Carrier Aircraft (SCA) approaches the runway at Washington Dulles International Airport.

 

Spectators from across the Washington, DC area, NASA employees and Museum staff have contributed thousands of images to the Museum’s Space Shuttle Discovery Flickr group. If you took pictures of Discovery yesterday, please share them with us!

Ivey Doyal is web content manager for the National Air and Space Museum.

Toilet Training

What is the first question most people ask about spaceflight?  “How do you go to the bathroom in space?” It’s a puzzlement.

The Education staff has decided to seize a teachable moment.  The new Moving Beyond Earth exhibition will feature a full-scale reproduction space shuttle mid-deck, the shuttle’s living quarters. Visitors will be able to open some of the lockers, look out the portal for a heavenly view, and yes, see a reproduction space toilet, or WCS (waste containment system).

 

space toilet

Staff from Guard Lee show staff from the Museum how astronauts use a space toilet.

This past week we unpacked the toilet and had training. Why training? Because we plan to roll it out, turn it on, and present short educational programs. We’re expecting  a lot of interest. We know you’re curious.

toilet

Guard Lee staff with the space toilet, or waste containment system.

When we move a lever, the vacuum turns on. In space, astronauts rely on air to do what water does on Earth. Waste is sucked away, compacted, and dried. Of course the whole process is much more complicated than here in Earth. The feet straps (or bar for a standing man) are very important, as are the thigh bars for those sitting. Some models even come with seat belts!  Astronauts do not want to float away while doing their business.

There are male and female funnels, hoses of different sizes, and a can for paper trash. Remember, no flushing takes place. Ensuring a proper seal is crucial and astronauts practice on a toilet with a camera in Houston to perfect their position.

The company that built our WCS cared a great deal about accuracy, down to the NASA logo clearly emblazoned on the side.

And, in case you were wondering, our space shuttle curator Valerie Neal made sure that Space Shuttle Discovery, coming in April to the Museum’s Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center, will be as authentic inside as possible. She asked that the real WCS be re-installed.

Tim Grove is Chief of Education for the Museum in Washington, DC.

Bringing Spaceflight Down to Earth

Having grown up less than 90 minutes away from the famous Cedar Point amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio, I got the chance at least a few times each summer to see an IMAX movie. I remember the packed seats for the pre-show, everyone clamoring for the best seats right in the middle, but everyone was usually just happy to be escaping the heat for the air conditioned theater. When The Dream Is Alive was released in June 1985, I was just old enough to ride those massive roller coasters, but seeing IMAX films at Cedar Point really left an impression on me: a big impression. Seeing those sweeping views of Earth and space on a gigantic screen made spaceflight seem so real, and utterly amazing.

 

hubble

Figure 1 - The release of the Hubble Space Telescope as seen from the IMAX payload bay camera on STS-31, April 25, 1990.

Perhaps it comes as no surprise then that as soon as I became the Museum’s curator for space cameras about seven years ago, I distinctly remember asking about the chance IMAX cameras might join our collection. Valerie Neal, our curator for the space shuttle, was my target, and her enthusiasm for that possibility mirrored my own. During her time at the Museum, a number of the films premiered here, and she had gotten to know IMAX co-inventor/director/producer Graeme Ferguson and Toni Myers, another IMAX writer/director/producer. She had already started planting the idea of an eventual donation, suggesting to them at each opportunity that the Museum would be really interested in acquiring one of the cameras when they were no longer needed. I even remember anxiously waiting to hear from her the day after Hubble 3D premiered at the Museum in 2010, hoping she had put in another good word for National Air and Space Museum with Toni or Graeme. Valerie’s hard work paid off, and just a last year, we finalized arrangements to bring not one but two IMAX cameras — the two-dimensional in-cabin and payload bay units — into the National Collection.

Carl Walz

Figure 2 - Astronaut Carl Walz with the IMAX in-cabin camera during STS-79, September 1996.

Astronaut Michael Collins, the founding director of the National Air and Space Museum when it opened to the public in 1976, first suggested putting an IMAX camera on the shuttle five years before the first launch. He and Graeme Ferguson, and then Collins’ successor as Museum director Walter Boyne, nurtured the idea along until NASA granted approval in 1983. The partnership between IMAX Corporation, the Museum, NASA, and sponsor Lockheed Corporation was so successful that five more jointly-produced films followed The Dream is Alive. These films effectively brought spaceflight down to Earth as an immersive experience for audiences around the world.

Jennifer Levasseur is a museum specialist in the Division of Space History and curator for the Museum’s collection of space cameras and astronaut personal equipment.

Valerie Neal, also in the Division of Space History, is the space shuttle curator.

Remembering Wernher von Braun on his 100th Birthday

Today is the 100th anniversary of the birth of Wernher von Braun (March 23, 1912-June 16, 1977), one of the most famous rocketeers and advocates of spaceflight that ever lived. Accordingly, it is an appropriate time to reflect on his remarkable life and career. A longstanding “space cadet,” von Braun was an early member of the “Verein fur Raumschiffahrt” (Society for Spaceship Travel, or VfR). Although spaceflight aficionados and technicians had organized at other times and in other places, the VfR emerged soon after its founding on July 5, 1927 as a leading group that both advocated for spaceflight and worked to build rockets. Growing up in the VfR, Wernher von Braun became the quintessential and movingly eloquent advocate for the dream of spaceflight and a leading architect of its technical development.

 

Wernher von Braun

Photo of Marshall Space Flight Center (MSFC) Director Dr. Wernher von Braun at his desk with rocket models on his desk. Dr. von Braun served as Marshall's first director from 1960 until his transfer to NASA Headquarters in 1970.

He achieved a new stage for his efforts in 1932 when the German army hired the charismatic and politically astute Wernher von Braun, then only 20 years old, to work in its military rocket program. While he was the first VfR member to go to work for the German military, he was far from the last. Under his direction, of course, Nazi Germany developed the V-2 ballistic missile in the early 1940s.

Von Braun’s motivations for this move, with the hindsight of Hitler’s rise to power in Germany and the devastation and terror of World War II, have been questioned and criticized. Under von Braun’s technical direction, with political oversight provided by General Walter Dornberger, Germany developed the V‑2 rocket, the first true ballistic missile. The brainchild of Wernher von Braun’s rocket team operating at a secret laboratory at Peenemunde on the Baltic coast, this rocket was the immediate antecedent of many of those used in the U.S. space program. A liquid propellant missile rising 46 feet in height and weighing 27,000 pounds at launch, the V‑2, called the A-4 by the Germans involved in the project, flew at speeds in excess of 3,500 miles per hour and delivered a 2,200 pound warhead 500 miles away.

V-2

Two months before the Nazis came to power in 1933, physics student Wernher von Braun went to work on rocket weapons for the German army. Von Braun's establishment made a breakthrough to large-scale rocket engineering. It created the world's first operational ballistic missile: the V-2.

First flown in October 1942, it was employed against targets in Europe beginning in September 1944, and by the end of the war 1,155 had been fired against England and another 1,675 had been launched against Antwerp and other continental targets. The guidance system for these missiles was imperfect and many did not reach their targets, but they struck without warning and there was no defense against them. As a result the V-2s had a terror factor far beyond their capabilities.

With the V-2, on the morning of September 8, 1944, the world changed in ways that happen only rarely. After an enormous investment by Hitler’s Germany, more than a decade of research and development (R&D), the deaths of thousands of concentration camp laborers (with many more to come), and allied fears that led to an air strike on von Braun’s rocket R&D facility at Peenemünde, the V-2 changed the nature of warfare. After some false starts, at 8:40 a.m. on this date the first V-2 of the rocket campaign lifted off toward Paris. It exploded at high altitude and never reached the allied lines around Paris, an indication of the experimental nature of this complex new technology. Two hours later, however, a second rocket struck the Paris suburb of Charentonneau à Maison-Alfort, killing six people and injuring 36 others. All of them were non-combatants. This was the first ballistic missile attack in history, and it signaled a new age of warfare in which billions of dollars would be expended to strike enemies with missiles as well as to detect, deter, and defend against ballistic missiles.

Nazi Germany’s astounding success in developing a ballistic missile while the other combatants had not done so was no accident, and it was in no small measure the result of personalities involved in the research. Before 1941 the United States had led the world in rocket technology, chiefly because of the work of Robert H. Goddard. But he failed to gain the support of either other scientists or the U.S. government. On the other hand, the energetic von Braun courted his scientific colleagues and those in the German government. No similar level of salesmanship took place in any other nation. Popular and top-level support was therefore lacking, and von Braun was able to capitalize on this with its V-2 development during the war.

Advocates of spaceflight have tended to lionize individuals associated with this effort, not so much because of the V-2’s rather negative history as a potential weapon of mass destruction but because of what it meant for space exploration in the 1950s and 1960s. This has prompted a celebration of the von Braun’s team’s role in the development of American rocketry and space exploration even as it minimized the wartime cooperation of von Braun and his “rocket team” with the Nazi regime in Germany. Both have been distortions of the historical record. Even today, few Americans realize that von Braun had been a member of the Nazi party and an officer in the SS and that the V-2 was constructed using forced labor from concentration camps who were worked to death. The result has been both a whitewashing of the less savory aspects of the careers of the German rocketeers and an overemphasis on their influence in American rocketry.

explorer

Dr. William H. Pickering, Dr. James A. Van Allen, and Dr. Wernher von Braun (left to right) hoist a model of Explorer I and the final stage after the launching on Jan. 31, 1958. Explorer I, the first U.S. earth satellite was launched by a Jupiter-C with U.S. earth - IGY scientific experiments of Dr. James A. Van Allen, which discovered the radiation belt around the earth.

Wernher von Braun was a stunningly successful advocate for space exploration and has appropriately been celebrated for those efforts. But because he was also willing to build a ballistic missile for Hitler’s Germany, with all of connotations that implied in the devastation and terror of World War II, many of his ideals have also been appropriately questioned. For some he was a visionary who foresaw the potential of human spaceflight, but for others he was little more than an arms merchant who developed brutal weapons of mass destruction. In reality, he seems to have been something of both. In the 1960s, as the United States was involved in a race with Soviet Union to see who could land a human on the Moon first, political humorist Tom Lehrer wrote a song about von Braun‘s pragmatic approach to serving whoever would let him build rockets regardless of their purpose. “Don’t say that he’s hypocritical, say rather that he’s apolitical,” Lehrer wrote. “‘Once the rockets are up, who cares where they come down? That’s not my department,’ says Wernher von Braun.” Lehrer’s biting satire captured well the von Braun’s divided legacy.

Roger Launius is a senior curator in the Space History Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

 

 

Friendship 7’s ‘Fourth Orbit’

The Friendship 7 space capsule was designed to orbit the earth and it did just that on February 20, 1962, with John Glenn, Jr. on board. It circled the globe three times before landing in the Atlantic Ocean. Three months later Friendship 7 began its second mission, or what was popularly referred to as its “fourth orbit:” a worldwide exhibition that was organized to promote and represent the United States and its space program in nearly 30 cities around the world.

 

Sri Lanka

"Friendship 7" arriving at the airport in Ceylon (Sri Lanka), July 1, 1962 (NASM Archives)

 

Five years earlier, popular reaction to the successful launch of Sputnik in 1957 had prompted government officials in the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. to see spaceflight as a leading means for demonstrating power, technological capability, and national values to the world public. As a result, the U.S. space program, and its exhibition abroad, became important instruments in American foreign relations during the Cold War.

Over the course of its three-month-long world tour, Friendship 7 was seen by roughly four million people. Another 20 million people watched television programs about the capsule, which were broadcast from the exhibition sites. In early May 1962, on the first day the capsule was displayed at the Science Museum in London, thousands of people had to be turned away because the huge crowds overtaxed the facilities. In Madrid, the line to see the capsule was often up to a mile long and Spanish authorities had to be called to control a crowd of 40,000 people around the exhibit. Even though tropical thunderstorms drenched Nigeria and an earthquake shook Mexico during the capsule’s visit, the exhibit caused a much larger stir in every city it visited than officials at NASA and the State Department had imagined.

The capsule was flown around the world in a U.S. Air Force cargo plane that was emblazoned with the words “around the world with Friendship 7” and depicted the “fourth orbit” on a map of the four continents that the capsule visited over the summer. A member of NASA’s Cape Canaveral staff accompanied the craft to answer questions from curious audiences around the world.

At its stop in Egypt, the Friendship 7 capsule exhibit convinced skeptics that the flight had really happened. The Washington Post quoted one onlooker who remarked, “I thought this space flight business was a rumor but now [that] I can see the ship I believe it.” It was important for this exhibit visitor, as it was for many spectators around the world, to see the capsule with their own eyes. In the mid-twentieth century, space exploration had just left the realm of science fiction; the extraordinary idea that a man had orbited the earth was made more comprehensible when the craft that had carried Glenn could be seen and touched in person.

Although the Friendship 7 capsule drew record crowds from Paris and Accra, the capsule received its most overwhelming response in Asia. In the middle of July, when the capsule arrived in India, 50,000 Bombay residents waited for up to four hours to see the display at the Brabourne stadium. In the Philippines, priests, students, grandmothers, and boy scouts waded through six inches of rainwater leftover from a typhoon to see the spacecraft during its first day on display.

In Japan, the capsule was taken to Takashimaya, the leading department store in downtown Tokyo, where exhibits were usually mounted. Several hundred police and guides were called in to direct the crowd into a line that climbed nine flights of stairs, zigzagged across the roof of the building, and then descended back down nine flights of stairs to the first floor where the capsule was on display. In the first hour alone more than 12,000 people saw it, while over the course of its four-day visit more than 500,000 people came to the store to see Friendship 7 in person.

When Friendship 7 took its fourth orbit, it was for all practical purposes a defunct piece of machinery. After it landed in the Atlantic Ocean in 1962, the capsule had done what it was designed to do: to orbit the earth. Having outlived its technical utility, its display conveyed not only the fact that the first orbital flight had happened, but also that the American space program was open.

A year after his flight John Glenn wrote to McGeorge Bundy, President Kennedy’s National Security Advisor, that the Friendship 7’s ”fourth orbit” tour, “stressed the fact that [the American space program] was not just a propaganda effort before the world, but a well-thought-out scientific program that could eventually benefit all peoples of the world as the scientific exploration it is.” He went on to note that Russian exhibits highlighted personal appearances of cosmonauts while the United States emphasized scientific information via the capsule’s display. According to Glenn, America’s greatest advantage over the Soviet Union’s space program was “the almost complete freedom to share experiences and new information.” He suggested that the openness of the American program—as represented by the display of the spacecraft—stood in for the nation and its political ideology: when the Friendship 7 capsule was laid bare before the eyes of people from around the world it gave the impression that the U.S. space program was real, benign, apolitical, and designed for the collective benefit of all mankind.

 

Friendship 7

"Friendship 7's" final location, Milestones of Flight gallery, National Air and Space Museum

 

Teasel Muir-Harmony is a visiting researcher at the National Air and Space Museum and a PhD candidate at MIT.

 

 

What do you Make of the “Houston, we have a problem” Film Claiming that a Secret Yugoslavian Space Program was the Source of American Success in the Space Race?

They have got to be kidding! At least that’s what I thought, but apparently not. I received a call from Richard Solash, a reporter with Radio Free Europe about ten days ago to discuss a film being made by Slovene director Ziga Virc and writer Bostjan Virc that alleges that Tito’s Yugoslavia had a secret space program and secretly sold space knowledge to NASA, in the process making Tito rich and making if possible for the U.S. to achieve its Apollo program. Here is a Radio Free Europe news story about it. The filmmakers made a trailer offering the thrust of their argument and it quickly generated quite a lot of buzz in the Balkans. The trailer is here:

It is a fascinating, misleading, and in places highly contentious trailer for what is being billed as a “docudrama.” It claims that in 1960 the CIA discovered a secret Yugoslav space program, one that the United States exploited to win the space race with the Soviet Union, “buying” the whole shebang from Yugoslav strongman Tito in March 1961, not long before President Kennedy’s announcement of an American lunar landing program. The Yugoslavian space effort was based, according to this trailer, on the work of Hermann Noordung, a Slovenian-born artillery officer in the Austrian Army who wrote a book, The Problem of Space Travel, that was published in 1929 not long before his death. When I served as the NASA Chief Historian between 1990 and 2002 the history program had this work translated into English and published in the NASA History Series. It has recently been reprinted with additional prefatory material in an excellent new edition by the Centre of European Space Technologies (KSEVT) in Ljubljana, Slovenia.

JFK

President John F. Kennedy in his historic message to a joint session of the Congress, on May 25, 1961 declared, "...I believe 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." This goal was achieved when astronaut Neil A. Armstrong became the first human to set foot upon the Moon at 10:56 p.m. EDT, July 20, 1969. Shown in the background are, (left) Vice President Lyndon Johnson, and (right) Speaker of the House Sam T. Rayburn.

Those commenting on the assertions made in this film have been highly critical. Viewers of the trailer have referred to it as a “mockumentary,” a “documentary,” and a “fantasy.” Of those three characterizations “documentary” is probably the term least closely related to what is being proposed for this film. William Barry, the current NASA Chief Historian, was kinder than most when he said that “I would be very curious to see if there is any real historical evidence that holds up…” Full disclosure, I was also quoted in the same news story as Bill Barry questioning the assertions made in the film trailer.

Buzz Aldrin

Astronaut Buzz Aldrin, Lunar Module LM pilot, stands beside the Passive Seismic Experiments Package PSEP. The Laser Ranging Retroreflector LRRR, U.S. Flag, television camera and the Apollo Lunar Surface Closeup Camera ALSCC and LM are visible also. Image taken at Tranquility Base during the Apollo 11 Mission.

Since that time there have been many comments back and forth. The film’s principals, Bostjan Virc and Ziga Virc, contacted me by e-mail insisting that “most media misinterpreted our project without asking us anything. Some of them stated it as a real documentary and some of them claimed it’s a spoof or mockumentary. From the first beginning we present it as a docudrama…That means a movie, where the basis is a reality with added dramatisation and some fiction elements.”

As a “documdrama” I’m curious as to whether this proposed film will be something like “The King’s Speech” just recently released that is presumably a true story, but also has some notable fictional elements and at least one gross distortion of the historical record in the position of Winston Churchill on the abdication of Edward VIII from the British throne? Or will it look and feel like a documentary with an announcer narrating events but have fictional elements in it? The meaning of “docudrama” appears to serve as a license to make up whatever might be desired and to include it in the film. Where is the line between fact and fiction in this proposed work? I’ll look forward to seeing what the Vircs come up with.

flag

Geologist-Astronaut Harrison Schmitt, Apollo 17 Lunar Module pilot, is photographed next to the American Flag during extravehicular activity (EVA) of NASA's final lunar landing mission in the Apollo series. The photo was taken at the Taurus-Littrow landing site. The highest part of the flag appears to point toward our planet earth in the distant background.

I will be fascinated to see how this unfolds. I have many questions about the trailer’s arguments. Many of the connections made seem ridiculous at best; disingenuous at worst. As Carl Sagan said, “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.” The “post hoc ergo propter hoc” approach to arguments in the trailer are solipsistic and I await the proof to support them. I’m also interested in the filmmaker’s documentation about Hermann Noordung, additional papers he may have, etc. I truly question this story, but I want to hear what others have to say about it. Any thoughts?

Roger Launius is a curator in the Space History Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

Leaving the Moon, Watching at Home

 

Apollo 17

The Apollo 17 ascent stage lifts off from the Moon, marking the last time humans left the Moon on December 14, 1972.

After pressing some buttons to start up the ascent engine of their lunar module Challenger, astronauts Gene Cernan and Harrison Schmitt left the Moon on December 14, 1972. That’s 39 years ago – before many of us were even born. While these men looked out the tiny triangular windows of the lunar module to see the lunar surface getting farther away, viewers around the world watched that same spacecraft leave the Moon, live and in color on their television sets. Departing the Moon for the last time was (not surprisingly, perhaps) far less interesting to most people than Apollo 11’s first landing over three years prior. Some evidence even suggests that NASA had to pay television networks to cover Apollo 17’s mission at all. Despite all their hard work and technological developments, the final liftoff of humans from the Moon came and went with just a brief notice on the nightly news.

That story, however, overlooks the difficulties engineers had in developing the ability to show the lunar module rocketing back into space. Television cameras of the late 1960s and early 1970s were notoriously bulky, usually requiring huge rolling bases or portable stands. For space use, any piece of equipment needed to be light-weight and easily portable. NASA awarded contracts to build television cameras for Apollo alternately to RCA and Westinghouse, and both companies managed to build units for different missions that met NASA standards for weight, materials, and functionality. For the final three Apollo missions, RCA provided small, portable, color television cameras that could show the astronauts stepping off the lunar module and onto the Moon, and then be moved to a stand or the lunar rover for mobile exploration.

The cameras were very successful, capturing images of numerous EVAs that included sample collection, a driver’s eye-view from the mobile rover, and the pitfalls of trying to just stay standing in a space suit in 1/6 gravity. For the lunar liftoff though, engineers had numerous calculations to make prior to the mission to allow for filming. Attached to a pan and tilt unit, the television camera could be controlled directly from Earth via a large high-gain antenna on the rover. Since signals to and from Earth are delayed by a few seconds due to the 240,000 mile distance, mission engineers suggested pre-programming the lunar module liftoffs for Apollo missions 15, 16, and 17. Based on mathematical calculations, the rover would be driven and left some distance from lunar module, and the camera would automatically tilt up to show the ascent when commanded by the operator on Earth.

That was the plan at least.

On Apollo 15, the tilt mechanism malfunctioned and the camera never moved upwards, allowing the lunar module to slip out of sight. And while the attempt on Apollo 16 gave a longer view of the lunar module rising up, the astronauts actually parked the rover too close to it, which threw off the calculations and timing of the tilt upwards so it left view just a few moments into the flight.

Thankfully, for NASA, those watching at home, and anyone reviewing film footage today, the third attempt was the charm. Cernan and Schmitt parked the rover at just the right distance, all of the mechanisms worked flawlessly, and viewers can still see today how that awkwardly-shaped ascent stage keeps going up until it becomes just a bright speck the sky on its way back to the command module.

How we saw and continue to see the Apollo program is due not only to the engineers at RCA for creating this unique ability, but also the NASA camera operator in Houston, Ed Fendell, for getting the timing just right, and NASA itself for recording and preserving these moments for our collective memory of our last departure from the Moon.

How big of a part do you think NASA’s television coverage of Apollo 17 plays in how we think about that time period? Do you think the same is true of the end of the Space Shuttle program in 2011?

 

Apollo 17

A view of the Apollo 17 landing site as seen from the lunar module ascent stage as it left the surface. On the left, you can see the descent stage, the small gold-colored circle, and numerous tracks leading away from it, marking the paths astronauts took on their extra-vehicular activities.

Jennifer Levasseur is a museum specialist in the Space History Division of the National Air and Space Museum, and is responsible curator for the Museum’s collection of space cameras and early human spaceflight astronaut equipment.

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)

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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.

A Christmastime Price War—Over a Toy Ray Gun

Along the McDonnell Space Hangar’s south wall in the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center, a case of colorful toys beckons to visitors. Older patrons pause in nostalgia to identify the toys of their youth. Children plop on the floor by the Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back action figures, studying early-1980s versions of characters they know through the Clone Wars animated series and video games. But ray guns dominate the display.  Hung in a circle facing inward toward the curator’s fabulously-illuminating main label about the parallels between many space stories and American Westerns (make sure you read it the next time you’re there!), the ray guns show an array of different shapes, colors, finishes, and materials.

 

ray guns

Four toy ray guns from the Museum's space popular culture collection illustrate how varied the colors, shapes, and designs of imagined space toys can be. From top left, clockwise, Laser Gun Toy, Taiwan, c. 1970s–1980s; “Space Super Jet” Toy Gun, Japan, c. 1960s–1970s; XZ-44 Liquid Helium Toy Water Pistol, USA, 1936; and Flash Gordon Arresting Ray Pistol Toy, USA, 1952.

But most people fail to notice that the progenitor for all ray gun toys is sitting on the top shelf on the left: quiet, matte, black—and incredibly important.  Given to the Museum by Michael O’Harro in the 1990s, this innocuous wood, metal, and plastic form was the model for the very first metal Buck Rogers gun: the XZ-31 Rocket Pistol, produced in 1934 by the Daisy Manufacturing Company of Plymouth, Michigan. That toy, which was wildly successful, even sparked a Christmastime price war between two of the biggest department stores in the country at the time.

 

Buck Rogers Ray Guns

The progenitor of all ray gun toys that followed, the Buck Rogers XZ-31 Rocket Pistol by Daisy Manufacturing caused a Christmastime sensation in 1934. From top left, clockwise, the prototype for the XZ-31, the XZ-31 itself, and the XZ-35 "Wilma Deering" Rocket Pistol of 1935.

Buck Rogers first appeared in the pulp magazine Amazing Stories in August 1928 as the character Anthony Rogers in Philip Francis Nowlan’s story “Armageddon 2419 A.D.”  Knocked unconscious, the blond hero awakened in the 25th century to find America under attack from “Mongol” hordes, a reflection of the “yellow peril,” contemporary anxiety about Asians in the United States.  National Newspaper Service president John F. Dille saw a potential comic strip—with one small change.  Renamed “Buck” to tap into Westerns’ popularity, “Buck Rogers” (illustrated by Dick Calkins) debuted in 1929, followed by a color Sunday strip in 1930 and a radio program in 1932.  (Created to compete with—and cash in on—that success, Flash Gordon began fighting another Asian enemy, Ming the Merciless, in comic strips in 1934.)

Paper or cardboard Buck Rogers guns quickly become available as mail-away premiums, play kits, or give-aways. But as the comic strip and radio program gained popularity, Daisy Manufacturing Company wanted to make a three-dimensional toy: a metal ray gun. But the guns drawn in the comics were too intricate to produce.  Instead, Daisy executives asked Buck Rogers illustrator Dick Calkins to redesign the guns shown in the comic to make them easier to replicate as three-dimensional toys. The matte black model shows a prototype, a variation upon which was eventually produced.

The resulting XZ-31 Rocket Pistol launched with a dedicated display at Detroit’s J.L. Hudson department store, the props from which were then reused at the American Toy Fair to sell the toy to other shops.  Macy’s flagship department store in New York City bought in, negotiating a one-week exclusive marketing agreement. On the first day the XZ-31 sold in New York City, 2,000 eager buyers lined up! By Christmas, a holster and helmet were also available for consumers who wanted to act out Buck’s adventures.

 

holster

The XZ-35 leather holster could hold the smaller version of the Buck Rogers rocket pistol, known as the "Wilma Deering" pistol, made by the Daisy Manufacturing Company of Plymouth, Michigan in 1935.

But once Macy’s exclusive agreement ended, the wild popularity of the metal 50¢ toy gun sparked a Christmastime price war between Macy’s and Gimbel’s department stores. At one point, the price at Gimbel’s reportedly reached as low as two-for-19¢, below the manufacturing cost!

A year later, in 1935, inspired by the XZ-31’s success, Daisy created a smaller version named for the series’ female lead character, Wilma Deering.  The XZ-35 Buck Rogers Rocket Pistol Toy was identical in every way to the original metal Buck Rogers gun—except for its reduced size.

The National Air and Space Museum holds toys and games in the collection because they reflect how people have imagined spaceflight—and how children have been introduced to spaceflight through play, both realistic and fantastical. No matter how you celebrate this holiday season, consider making a visit to the Udvar-Hazy Center to see these fanciful reminders of how children of all ages have imagined their own futures in space.

Margaret A. 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