An Out-of-This-World Program

How do you bring together two orbiting astronauts and more than 12,000 students scattered around the U.S. and Canada?  It’s not rocket science, but it’s close.  First you have to find some very dedicated partners with a common purpose, like the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, the U.S. Department of Education, and the National Center for Earth and Space Science Education.  Second you have to ensure an audience; which isn’t very difficult because who wouldn’t jump at the chance to talk to astronauts while in space?  Third, and most challenging, you have to put together the technology capable of linking 24 sites scattered around North America and Hawaii with something moving at 28,163 kph (17,500 mph) 354 km (220 miles) above the Earth’s surface.

This amazing program occurred in the National Air and Space Museum’s Moving Beyond Earth exhibition, a perfect location because it tells the history of human spaceflight during the shuttle period and beyond.  As part of International Education Week, staff conducted a live video downlink between students, Museum visitors, and astronauts onboard the International Space Station (ISS).  We used the Internet, video conferencing equipment, and some high-definition cameras to bring three astronauts (two on the ISS and one on Earth) into the classrooms of 24 participating communities and an audience at the Museum.  In addition, the downlink was broadcast live on NASA TV and webcast on the NASA and National Air and Space Museum websites.

Downlink

Astronaut Leland Melvin answers a school group’s question via a live video link at the National Air and Space Museum.

Students from each of the 24 communities designed a science experiment to be conducted by NASA astronauts in space as part of the National Center for Earth and Space Science Education’s Student Spaceflight Experiments Program. In fact, some of the schools participating in the downlink actually had science experiments onboard the ISS at the time.  These students were talking live to one of the actual astronauts who worked with their experiments.

Students at each location asked questions of outgoing ISS Commander Sunita Williams and incoming ISS Commander Kevin Ford about life and work aboard the orbiting laboratory.  As  moderator I was impressed with the thoughtful questions.  For example, students from Hilo, HI asked Williams, “What are some of the advancements made in engineering and science due to research conducted aboard the space station, and who profits from these?” and students from Guilford County, NC asked Ford, “What are the challenges and advantages of working with astronauts from other countries?”

The reaction from each student group I introduced was incredible enthusiasm!  Each time I called on a new school, the students would erupt in cheers that echoed over the distance.  Williams and Ford broke out into big grins each time and it seemed that they enjoyed the program as much as the students did.  I was amazed by the fact that each school seemed so emotionally and physically invested in the experience.  Every time I heard the schools applause I thought about what an incredible opportunity we were providing these kids and it gave me chills.

Downlink

Audience members at the National Air and Space Museum watch a school group on Earth talk to astronauts onboard the ISS live via a video link.

Following the live Earth-to-station exchange, NASA Associate Administrator for Education and two-time space shuttle astronaut Leland Melvin continued answering questions and encouraged participating students and Museum visitors to study science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM).  “You are the scientists, engineers and astronauts of tomorrow,” Melvin said. “America’s future of scientific research and space exploration is in your hands, and there’s no better way to prepare yourselves for those grand adventures than to start pursuing a STEM career now.”

View the entire ISS downlink program.

Michael Hulslander is Manager of Onsite Learning at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC.

Women in Space

With March upon us, the calls start coming for information about women in space.  March is Women’s History Month and those of us trained as women’s historians know that our topics have particular currency in the third month of the year.  But for women in space, the month to celebrate really should be June.

Valentina Tereshkova

Soviet cosmonaut Valentina Vladmirovna Tereshkova in the spacecraft Vostok 6.

Fifty years ago, on June 16, 1963, the Soviet cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova became the first woman to fly in space. Tereshkova was chosen from a group of five women who had been selected and trained as possible cosmonauts in the Soviet Union.  Her expertise as a skydiver and her personal and family background (her father was a war hero) aided her selection to fly in space.  Launched as the sole occupant of Vostok 6, Tereshkova orbited at the same time as Vostok 5, marking the second time that two human spaceflight vehicles were in space at the same time. Her mission lasted just less than three days (two days, 23 hours, and 12 minutes).

Twenty years later (almost to the day), on June 18, 1983, which is exactly 30 years ago this year, Sally Ride became the first American woman in space aboard the Space Shuttle Challenger (STS-7). She flew with four other crew members on a six-day mission that included launching two communications satellites. After earning her Ph.D. in physics at Stanford University, Ride applied to be an astronaut and was selected in 1978 as a part of the first NASA astronaut candidate class to include women and people of color.  (Five other women also became astronauts in that class: Anna Fisher, Shannon Lucid, Judith Resnik, Rhea Seddon, and Kathryn Sullivan.)  Ride’s distinguished career with NASA included two spaceflights, service on the Rogers Commission after the Challenger disaster in 1986, and founding NASA’s Office of Exploration.

Sally Ride

Sally Ride was the first American woman in space.

Finally, last year, in 2012, again in June (on June 16, exactly 49 years after Tereshkova), Liu Yang became the first female taikonaut to fly into space when she, along with two male crewmates, participated in a thirteen-day mission to dock, both manually and robotically, with China’s prototype space station. As the third nation in the world to launch human beings into orbit, China has flown four crewed missions: its first human mission in 2003, a two-person flight in 2005, its first spacewalk in 2008, and the first crewed orbital docking (in which Liu participated) in 2012. As it did for the Soviet space program in the early 1960s, including a female flyer in a mission drew attention to the program.

Although the inclusion of women in spaceflight is only one part of the broader history of women in aerospace, space travelers serve as the public face of their organizations and thus have symbolic importance in addition to their real contributions.

In the United States, the factors affecting the number of women in space tend to be related to the “pipeline” of experience, schooling, and training required to fulfill those positions.  In the early years of the space race, when astronauts were drawn primarily from the ranks of military-trained jet test pilots, women —who were excluded from military flying from the end of the Women Airforce Service Pilots in 1944 until military flight training was reopened to women in the early 1970s—did not have the military jet test piloting experience to be considered. (A group of talented women pilots did undergo some private astronaut testing in 1960, but the Lovelace Women in Space Program ended abruptly in 1961.) The introduction of the Space Transportation System or “Space Shuttle” also introduced a new type of astronaut: the mission specialists, who were researchers with advanced scientific or technical degrees. The first American women astronaut candidates announced by NASA in 1978 were drawn from an applicant pool that included a greater proportion of women with terminal research degrees (Ph.D.s or M.D.s) than had previously existed.

Although Women’s History Month will be over at the end of March, we will revisit this particular history in June at the Museum. Three curators in Space History are planning an informal series of lunchtime talks, done as a part of the Museum’s weekly “Ask an Expert” series, explaining the history of these women’s achievements. After all, pioneering women deserve attention, even if it is not March.

Margaret A. Weitekamp is a curator in the National Air and Space Museum’s Space History Department.

Two Years Ago Today

Two years ago today, the space shuttle Discovery was launched for the last time.  My friend Nicole Gugliucci scored a quartet of tickets for the launch and shared them with me, along with our friends and classmates Joleen Carlberg and Gail Zasowski.  Facing an overwhelming load of graduate school work, we decided that a road trip from Virginia to Florida was exactly what we needed!

Kennedy Space Center

Joleen, Gail (with Buzznaut), Nicole, and myself (with Meteor Shower), at the Kennedy Space Center.

Many hours later, the six of us found ourselves in sunny Florida.  Yes, six.  The other two road trippers were the mascots for an astronomy outreach club that we helped found in Virginia.  Nicole was the only one among us who had witnessed a launch before.

Our tickets let us watch from the Visitor Center, seven miles from the launch pad.  We spent the day exploring the Visitor Center, and found a spot in the rocket garden to watch the launch.  We couldn’t see the launch pad itself from there, but we could watch final preparations on a big screen showing a close-up view.

Rock Garden

Waiting for launch in the rocket garden.

Due to a computer problem on the ground, the launch was delayed.  We knew we could still see it if it were postponed one day, but if there were further delays, we would probably have to abandon the effort and drive home.  The tension in the crowd built until the countdown clock started again, with just three seconds to spare in the launch window. The audience erupted into cheers.

The experience didn’t start to feel real to me until I saw the cap lift off the shuttle’s nose cone, leaving it free to launch.  Sparks were fired around the main engines to burn up any stray fuel, preventing accidental fires.  Then, on the screen, we saw the engines light!

launch

Ignition of main engines, as seen on a big screen from the Visitor Center. Video of Discovery’s last launch can be seen in the Moving Beyond Earth gallery or online.

The red flames from the engines focused in to sharp white points, causing the shuttle to “twang,” rocking forward a bit.  When it rocked back to a vertical position, the more powerful solid-fuel rocket boosters (SRBs) lit off.  I was expecting that, but it still made me jump.

Moments later, we felt the ground shake, and then the shuttle rose into view, the flame from its SRBs shining nearly as brightly as the Sun. It hurt to look at it.  A few moments later, as we jumped around and cheered, the rumble and roar of the launch reached us.

Discovery

My first glimpse of Discovery. The white strips are the solid-fuel rocket boosters.

It was awesome to see this feat of engineering with my own eyes, and to think that there were six people in that shuttle, with an incredible amount of flame and power below them.  As Discovery arcked out of sight into a clear blue sky, I found myself crying.

Discovery

Discovery reappears from behind its own contrail, on the last gasps of power from the SRBs. Moments later, the empty SRBs detached and fell back to the ocean.

But that was not the last flight of Discovery that I got to witness.  More than a year later, on April 17, 2012, I was working as an astronomy educator at the National Air and Space Museum. The whole city of Washington, DC was buzzing with excitement about Discovery, which was en route to its final home with us.

Riding piggyback atop a modified Boeing 747, Discovery cruised the DC area, making three loops around the National Mall before heading to Virginia.  From the top of the National Museum of American History, I was lucky enough to watch its final flight.

Discovery

Flying above the Smithsonian Castle, Discovery acquires an extra honor guard.

Anyone can now visit Discovery at the National Air and Space Museum’s Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center.  When I visit, what impresses me most is how beaten up it looks, compared to the pristine Enterprise which used to reside there. Discovery is a well-used workhorse of a space vehicle, the one that took the Hubble Space Telescope into orbit for us.

Discovery

Visiting Discovery at its new home.

I’m not sad that the space shuttle program is over.  I believe that ferrying people and equipment from Earth to low orbit is now a routine (if still astonishing!) task, one that private industry will excel at. I can’t wait to see where scientists and engineers will take us next. What would you like to see in the future of space exploration?

Geneviève de Messières is an Astronomy educator at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC. All photographs by Geneviève de Messières.

Reflections on the Loss of STS-107, the Space Shuttle Columbia: Ten Years Ago

STS-107

STS-107 crew members lost when space shuttle “Columbia” broke up during reentry on February 1, 2003. STS-107 crew members included astronauts Rick D. Husband (left), mission commander; Kalpana Chawla, mission specialist; and William C. McCool, pilot. Standing are (from the left) astronauts David M. Brown, Laurel B. Clark, and Michael P. Anderson, all mission specialists; and Ilan Ramon, payload specialist representing the Israeli Space Agency.

NASA staffers and leaders had a celebration planned on February 1, 2003 for the return of Columbia and its crew after the successful completion of STS-107. STS-107 had been launched from the Kennedy Space Center’s Launch Complex 39A on January 16 on a science mission that was dedicated to research in physical, life, and space sciences. It held the SPACEHAB Research Double Module and involved the execution of approximately 80 separate experiments, comprised of hundreds of samples and test points. The seven astronauts aboard had worked 24 hours a day, in two alternating shifts, to complete these experiments.

Unfortunately, STS-107 never made it home; both the vehicle and crew were lost during re-entry into the Earth’s atmosphere. NASA lost communication with Columbia a little before 9:00 a.m. EST on February 1, and when the shuttle failed to land at its appointed time of 9:16 a.m. at the Kennedy Space Center, NASA administrator Sean O’Keefe knew something was wrong. He said:

I immediately advised the President and the Secretary of Homeland Security, Tom Ridge, at the point after landing was due to have occurred at 9:16 a.m., and spoke to them very briefly to advise them that we had lost contact with the Shuttle orbiter, Columbia, and STS-107 crew. They offered, the President specifically offered, full and immediate support to determine the appropriate steps to be taken. We then spent the next hour and a half working through the details and information of what we have received [concerning]…operational and technical issues.

Lost in the accident was the STS-107 crew of seven astronauts. These included Mission Commander Rick Husband; Pilot William “Willie” McCool; Mission Specialists Kalpana Chawla, David Brown, and Laurel Clark; Payload Commander Michael Anderson; and Payload Specialist Ilan Ramon. Sad as this loss was, NASA personnel vowed that the astronauts had not died in vain and that space exploration would continue. Moreover, this accident taught harsh lessons of the risk of exploring a new frontier and allowed humanity to learn lessons that would make space travel safer into the future.

President G.W. Bush offered these comments at the memorial service for the crew:

The loss was sudden and terrible, and for their families, the grief is heavy. Our nation shares in your sorrow and in your pride. And today we remember not only one moment of tragedy, but seven lives of great purpose and achievement. To leave behind Earth and air and gravity is an ancient dream of humanity. For these seven, it was a dream fulfilled. Each of these astronauts had the daring and discipline required of their calling. Each of them knew that great endeavors are inseparable from great risks. And each of them accepted those risks willingly, even joyfully, in the cause of discovery.

Columbia was the first orbiter built and flown in space, having undertaken 28 successful missions. In February 2001, Columbia had received a major overhaul and update of its systems but it was still an aging vehicle. The STS-107 mission where it was lost was Columbia’s second flight following its overhaul, with the first one a successful servicing mission to the Hubble Space Telescope in March 2002.

The process of initiating a Columbia Accident Investigation Board (CAIB) began almost immediately. Its first meeting, under the direction of retired U.S. Navy Admiral Harold W. Gehman Jr.—who co-chaired the commission that investigated the attack on the U.S.S. Cole in Aden, Yemen, on October 12, 2000—was scheduled for February 3. “While the NASA family and the entire world mourn the loss of our colleagues, we have a responsibility to quickly move forward with an external assessment to determine exactly what happened and why,” said Administrator O’Keefe. “We’re honored to have such a distinguished panel of experts, led by Admiral Gehman.”

At the same time, with debris scattered over Texas, Louisiana, and other parts of the south-central United States, teams of investigators scoured the countryside for as much of Columbia as they could find. Within 24 hours of the accident, a large group was on the ground and working with local officials in Texas and Louisiana. The State of Texas activated 800 members of the Texas National Guard to assist with the retrieval of debris. By  February 4, more than 2,000 people from Federal Emergency Management Agency, Environmental Protection Agency, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Department of Defense, Department of Transportation, U.S. Forest Service, Texas National Guard, and state and local authorities were working to locate, document, and collect debris.

By May 2003 the CAIB released their working scenario for the accident. The Board commented that at approximately 81 seconds after a 10:39 a.m. EST launch on January 16, 2003, post-launch photographic analysis determined that foam from the External Tank (ET) left bipod ramp area impacted Columbia in the vicinity of the lower left wing reinforced carbon-carbon (RCC) panels 5-9. While on orbit for 16 days, neither the Columbia crew nor controllers on the ground had any indication of damage based on orbiter telemetry, crew downlinked video, still photography, or crew reports. When the vehicle began reentry this damaged section of the wing according to the CAIB, “was subjected to extreme entry heating over a long period of time, leading to RCC rib erosion, severely slumped carrier panel tiles, and substantial metallic slag deposition on the RCC panels nearest the damaged area.” The destruction of the wing from overheating caused the breakup and crash of Columbia. It was a tragedy that cost the lives of seven astronauts and the spacecraft.

The loss of both Columbia and its crew signaled the beginning of an important policy debate about the future of human spaceflight. NASA grounded the shuttle fleet, appropriately so, at the time of the accident, but wanted to return to flight by the fall of 2003. Others, some of them members of Congress, thought that the shuttle fleet should not only be grounded but immediately retired. Still others announced that America must find the technical problem that caused the loss of Columbia, fix that problem on all of the remaining orbiters, determine the appropriate organizational and management issues that allowed the technical problem to go unresolved, and only then return to flight.

A decade has passed since this accident. The crew deserves honor and respect for their sacrifice, to be sure, but also for their commitment and dedication to the cause of pushing back the frontiers of knowledge about space. The space shuttle has been retired. The policy debate about how best to continue human spaceflight still rages. NASA is presently pursuing a program designed to foster private sector solutions to support International Space Station operations in low-Earth orbit. The intention is that the space agency will be able to contract with outside providers of launch services to orbit rather than build its own vehicle for that purpose.

That strategy may free NASA up to pursue technologies opening up cis-lunar and perhaps trans-lunar space activities. Turning low-Earth orbit over to commercial entities—as in the classic 1968 film, 2001: A Space Odyssey—could empower NASA to focus its attention on deep space exploration, making possible a return to the Moon and perhaps explorations beyond sooner rather than later. That would be an exceedingly appropriate remembrance for the crew of Space Shuttle Columbia.

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

Neil Armstrong’s Apollo 11 Extravehicular Gloves and Visor

Extravehicular gloves and visor worn by Neil Armstrong when he took his first steps on the Moon on July 20, 1969.

There is a new display at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center near Washington Dulles International Airport.  Along the south wall of the James S. McDonnell Space Hanger, in a large storefront case, are the extravehicular (EV) gloves and visor that Neil Armstrong wore when he first stepped on the surface of the Moon on July 20, 1969.  These three components of Armstrong’s A7-L spacesuit are a small portion of what hundreds of millions of people saw on the television broadcast of his first steps on the lunar surface.  But they are also the most immediately identifiable.  The gloves have the blue silicone fingertips and the stainless steel fabric that wraps the hands with the long white gauntlet with instructions printed on the left one.  The visor is the giant sun goggles that astronauts needed to survive in absence of the Sun-filtering effects of the Earth’s atmosphere.  These objects were placed on display on Tuesday afternoon as part of the Museum’s memorialization of Neil Armstrong’s life.

Neil Armstrong’s Apollo 11 Visor

Neil Armstrong’s Apollo 11 EV Gloves

The first question that might come to mind to many of the visitors seeing the gloves and visor is why these components and not the rest of his spacesuit?   The short answer to that question is that the Museum is trying to preserve Armstrong’s suit and all the other spacesuits in the national collection for generations to come.  When the news of Neil Armstrong’s death was released to the public, I was shopping for a swim team picnic and immediately began to text our spacesuit conservator, Lisa Young.  We both immediately recognized that the significance of Armstrong’s life and his role in the space program called for a significant action on the part of the Museum.  The components of Armstrong’s spacesuit that he returned from the Moon have been on display almost continuously from the time in 1973 when NASA transferred them to the Museum until 2001 when my predecessor Amanda Young made the very difficult decision to remove them for conservation purposes.  Objects in the spacesuit collection are rotated on and off display based on their individual needs as determined by Museum collections specialists. The climate and display conditions in the existing display were not ideal for preserving the spacesuit for decades.  The natural deterioration processes of the synthetic materials; interactions between components of the suit, humidity, light and the traditional upright display position were all contributing to a worsening condition of the suit.  By 2001, Lisa Young had determined that storage conditions of a moderate temperature (60 degrees Fahrenheit or 15.5 degrees Celsius) and low relative humidity (<30%)  are the ideal conditions to maximize the stabilization of the materials in the suit. Once removed from display, Neil Armstrong’s suit was stored under those conditions for 10 years, first at the Museum’s Paul E. Garber Preservation, Restoration, and Storage Facility in Suitland, Maryland, and more recently at the Museum’s modern storage facility at the Udvar-Hazy Center. Lisa and I decided that these three of all the suit components were the best able to withstand the hazards of display outside of their storage containers for a brief period of time.

Neil Armstrong’s Apollo 11 spacesuit, currently in storage at the Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA. Photo credit: Mark Avino

Once we made that decision, a remarkable number of Museum divisions had to come into play to make the display happen.  The Exhibits Design and Exhibits Production units had to approve a design and location including approving, editing, and producing exhibit labels.  The Smithsonian’s Office of Protection Services had to ensure that the display conditions met the Institution’s monitoring requirements.  Our chief conservator, Malcolm Collum, swung into action in the midst of moving his laboratory from Suitland to the Udvar-Hazy Center and produced a detailed condition report prior to display.  Our mount maker, Glenn Rankin, had to build new mounts to fit the glove and the visor that met both conservation and exhibit requirements.  Then Samantha Snell, Jeannie Whited, and Jennifer Stringfellow of the Collections Division worked to assure that the transport of the artifacts from storage to the Conservation lab and finally to display went smoothly and without incident.

Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin’s spacesuits were formerly on display together, pictured here in 1999. Buzz Aldrin’s suit is currently on display in “Apollo to the Moon.” Photo credit: Eric Long

The gloves and visor will be on display for about two weeks.  When they return to storage, we hope that it will not be for another decade.  Neil Armstrong’s death has emphasized to all of us at the Museum the importance of sharing our precious collections related to the Apollo program with the public.  The Museum plans to complete a renovation of its Apollo to the Moon gallery on display at the Museum in Washington, DC.  The new gallery, which is planned for 2018, will tell the story of how the United States built the Apollo program in eight years on the basis of 15 minutes of human spaceflight experience.  In that gallery, visitors, including those who have no personal memory of seeing Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin on the Moon in 1969, will see his spacesuit kit and other personal materials on display.  At that time, the suit and its components will be displayed under conditions that will come close to our storage standards.  Once we have established these new display standards for our spacesuit collection, we will be able to share more of our collection with the public while preserving it so that visitors will be able to view it for generations.

Neil Armstrong in his Apollo 11 spacesuit with visor on the table in front of him. Photo credit: NASA

 

Cathleen Lewis is a curator in the Space History Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

All photos by Dane Penland, National Air and Space Museum, unless otherwise noted.

Because of the fragility of the suits, the Air and Space Museum joined with the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service (SITES) to create Suited for Space based on Amanda Young and Mark Avino’s book, Spacesuits: The Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum Collection.  Near full-sized images of spacesuits from the Museum’s collection bring you up close, and x-rays give you the inside-look at some suits and their components. The exhibit is currently showing at the Center for Earth and Space Science in Tyler, Texas and will open at the National Air and Space Museum on the Mall in July 2013.