Countdown to The Cold War: August 1944 (2) August 27, 2014Posted by Lofty Ambitions in Science.
Tags: Books, Countdown to The Cold War, Nuclear Weapons, Radioactivity, WWII
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Our first “Countdown to The Cold War” post appeared LAST WEEK, so you may want to start there.
In the vernacular of the Manhattan Project scientists and engineers, assembly is the process of transforming a subcritical mass of either uranium or plutonium into a supercritical mass, an uncontrolled nuclear chain reaction resulting in an explosion. In the earliest days of the project, most of the effort was spent on developing what was called the gun-type assembly method. This is essentially the act of slamming together two subcritical masses by firing one at the other. As a means of setting off an atomic explosion, this process has always struck the Lofty Duo as the equivalent of one of our very distant ancestors stumbling across two stones, banging them together, and wiping out the entire forest in which they lived.
The initial designs for a gun-type weapon were essentially navy cannons with one end containing a near-critical mass of fissionable to be shot at from the other end by a smaller mass of fissionable material. The first attempts were thought to require a ten-thousand pound, seventeen-foot long cannon. These designs were known as the Thin Man, after the Dashiell Hammett novel of the same name.
Scientists and engineers hoped that this design would work for both uranium and plutonium. While enriched uranium–enrichment being the process used to increase the proportion of desirable U-235 vs. undesirable U-238 in a given amount of uranium (see last week’s post)–had suitable physical properties for a gun-type weapon, the enrichment process was complex and expensive. During the Manhattan Project, electromagnetic separation, thermal diffusion, and, to a lesser extent, gas centrifugation were all used as enrichment processes. In fact, these processes of enriching uranium were so difficult that there were serious questions about whether enough uranium could be produced to build a bomb.
Plutonium, on the other hand, could be produced by transmuting–transmuting being changing one element or isotope into another–uranium in nuclear reactors (atomic piles at the time). Once produced, its purification and separation could be handled chemically, as opposed to the complicated means necessary for uranium. Plutonium is a fiendish metal to manipulate, and its been called the most dangerous substance known to humankind. In the early days of the Manhattan Project, it was also in short supply. As more of it became available in April 1944 and subjected to experiment, scientists at Los Alamos, particularly physicist Emilio Segrè and his group, discovered that reactor-produced plutonium (as opposed to previous plutonium samples which had been created in cyclotrons) suffered from an alarming problem.
As Segrè and his group discovered in their Forrest Service cabin deep in Pajarito Canyon, the plutonium produced in atomic piles has two isotopes: Pu-239 and Pu-240. The presence of the second isotope, Pu-240, caused the plutonium that Los Alamos was receiving to undergo spontaneous fission. In nature, fissionable elements can also undergo nuclear reaction known as spontaneous fission. This process is a somewhat different process than when nuclear fission is artificially induced through the use of a neutron. Richard Rhodes in his Pulitzer Prize Winning tome, The Making of the Atomic Bomb, gives a footnote definition of spontaneous fission: “a relatively rare nuclear event, differs from fission caused by neutron bombardment; it occurs without outside stimulus as a natural consequence of the instability of heavy nuclei.” Spontaneous was not what the Manhattan Project wanted in its nuclear material.
The unplanned for nuclear reaction was occurring to such an extent that, as two subcritical pieces of plutonium were brought in proximity to one another, the assembling mass of plutonium would be subject to pre-detonation. In short, the plutonium produced in Hanford’s reactors couldn’t be used in a gun-type assembly method. So the scientists and engineers needed to figure out what kind of bomb assembly would work if they wanted to use plutonium.
It was relatively quickly realized that, in order to make use of plutonium and to avoid pre-detonation, the subcritical mass would have to be assembled fast. Very fast. The only method that was available to Los Alamos was implosion. We’ll discuss that and its implications for the Manhattan Project next in our “Countdown to The Cold War.”
In the meantime, for more on uranium, plutonium, and fission, see our post called “Uranium & Plutonium & Fission.”
Countdown to The Cold War: August 1944 August 20, 2014Posted by Lofty Ambitions in Uncategorized.
Tags: Countdown to The Cold War, Physics, Radioactivity, WWII
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Over the last few years, your Lofty Duo has had an inordinate amount of interest in the Manhattan Project. If you were to draw a Venn diagram of our many overlapping interests in this historical event, it’s likely that somewhere in the shaded region at the center of the diagram would be a man named Henry Cullen. Henry was Anna’s grandfather. In his professional life, he was a Pullman Conductor on the Santa Fe Chief. The stories that Henry told about his train dropping off men with foreign-sounding names and accents in-the-middle-of-nowhere New Mexico are a part of Anna’s family lore.
That middle-of-nowhere spot was Lamy, New Mexico, situated about ten miles south of Santa Fe. During the years 1943-1945, the Lamy railway station was the disembarkation point for thousands of American scientists, engineers, soldiers, and their families as they made their way to the heart of the Manhattan Project: Site Y, more popularly known as Los Alamos. Site Y was one of the thirty locations that made up the Manhattan Engineer District, an administrative organization for the atomic bomb project that was created within the Army Corps of Engineers.
The military director of the Manhattan Engineer District was General Leslie M. Groves, who received the assignment to manage the Manhattan Engineer District as a result of his success with building the Pentagon. As Groves contemplated the necessity of moving so many valuable technical people around the country, he became concerned by the possibility of airplane crashes. As a result, trains like the Santa Fe Chief became the primary mode of cross-country transportation for the people working on the Manhattan Project. If it weren’t for the General’s fears, it’s unlikely that Henry Cullen would have crossed paths with so many individuals who were in the process of changing the course of history.
Henry Cullen’s outsider-looking-in stories about the then secret world of the Manhattan Project have given rise to a number of projects here at Lofty Ambitions. We’ve made trips to Santa Fe and Los Alamos numerous times. We’ve visited a number of atomic-themed museums. And we’re academics, so we’ve turned what we learned into conference papers and presentations. Doug is also using parts of Henry’s story in the novel he’s writing this summer.
As we mentioned earlier this month, over the next year, we’re going to be taking a look at the last year (August 1944-1945) of the Manhattan Project. Our starting point is a sequence of events that led to a massive reorganization of the laboratory at Site Y seventy years ago in August of 1944. That reorganization centered on a new design, a new model for the atomic bomb called implosion. This new design was necessary in order for the project to make use of the element plutonium, about which we’ve written. To understand this shift in August 1944, it’s helpful to keep in mind how the Manhattan Project scientists had initially thought they might go about designing an atomic bomb.
Hungarian physicist Leo Szilard is the scientist credited for first recognizing the possibility of using the energy released by the splitting of an atom—the process of nuclear fission—to create a weapon. In the late 1930s, much of the research in the area of nuclear fission was focused on the radioactive element uranium.
In uranium, the fission process begins with the absorption of a neutron (a subatomic particle with no electric charge, and one of the three constituents of atoms along with electrons and protons). This new neutron introduced to the uranium atom adds to the protons and neutrons in the nucleus, a process that excites the atom and makes it unstable. As a result of this instability, the uranium atom breaks apart into lighter elements (krypton and barium), three more neutrons, and energy.
However, this set of byproducts is the result of the fission in a specific uranium isotope, U-235. Naturally occurring uranium has two isotopes: U-235 and U-238. The element uranium has 92 protons in its nucleus. Isotopes are alternative configurations of a chemical element that differ in the number of neutrons in the nucleus. U-235 has 143 neutrons in its nucleus, and U-238 has 146 neutrons. The number after the chemical symbol—235 or 238—indicates the total number of protons and neutrons for that isotope (e.g., U-235: 92 + 143 = 235).
The nuclear fission that described above for U-235 releases three new neutrons. Each of those neutrons can then go on to fission more uranium atoms. As this process repeats cycle after cycle, it produces what is known as a chain reaction. In nuclear engineering, a controlled chain reaction is a nuclear reactor, a machine that can be used to generate power. An uncontrolled chain reaction is a weapon, and that was the goal of the Manhattan Project. Get that fission started and let it run wild.
U-238, the other naturally occurring isotope of uranium, has a nuclear reaction that generates only a single new neutron. So, one neutron is needed to cause fission, and one neutron is produced by the fission. That’s just not enough to sustain a chain reaction. So the Manhattan Project needed U-235.
Naturally occurring uranium, however, is found in an isotope mix that is 99.3% U-238 (which the scientists and engineers didn’t want) and about 0.7% U-235 (which was what they did want). They worked as best they could with this situation of separating out the isotope they wanted. As their work proceeded, though, they wondered whether plutonium might be used instead of uranium. As they began to think about how plutonium might work, they realized that the bomb design under development for uranium wasn’t suitable for using plutonium.
So while the Manhattan Project continued to pursue a weapon that used uranium, they refocused efforts on plutonium and began developing another design.
For the next post in “Countdown to the Cold War,” click HERE.
On Traveling: NASM & Other Serendipity August 13, 2014Posted by Lofty Ambitions in Collaboration, Space Exploration.
Tags: Art & Science, ISS, Mars, Museums & Archives, Serendipity, Space Shuttle
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Last week, we were back at the University of Maryland. We lived in College Park, Maryland, in the early 1990s while Anna was earning her MFA and working at the Entomological Society of America and Doug was working for NASA at the Center for AeroSpace Information as an abstractor and indexer. The University of Maryland and the surrounding communities have changed in twenty years, with lots more housing and restaurants (we went to Ledo first).
This time around, Doug was participating in a workshop hosted by HILT, or Humanities Intensive Learning and Teaching. As part of that program, we had the opportunity to choose among several Wednesday field trips. Of course, you know which one we chose: National Air and Space Museum!
The special event focused on a behind-the-scenes look at the new NASM crowdsourcing project called “My Space Shuttle Memories.” Margaret Weitekamp, the Curator of the Social and Cultural Dimensions of Spaceflight Collection at NASM, wanted something engaging for the new “Moving Beyond Earth” exhibit, and she wanted to reflect the ways in which real people interacted with and reacted to the space shuttle program. She worked with Sarah Banks, NASM’s Social Media Manager, to develop a photo crowdsourcing project that culminates in a slideshow display now in the exhibit.
We were disappointed that we hadn’t known about the initial call for photographs, but the museum plans to update the slideshow periodically. So, of course, we uploaded five of our own space shuttle photographs to the “My Space Shuttle Memories” Flickr group as soon as we returned home. We encourage others to do the same!
Based on our discussions with Weitekamp and Banks, we encourage you to follow the guidelines so that your photograph is seriously considered. Even if your photograph doesn’t become part of the slideshow in the museum, it’ll remain part of the collection of “My Shuttle Memories” at Flickr. Here are some things to consider before you upload any Shuttle photos to the Flickr page:
- The photograph MUST include people. Photographs of the space shuttle or of the plume won’t be considered for inclusion in the museum slideshow.
- The photograph must NOT anyone under the age of 18, unless you can provide permission from a parent or legal guardian for all children in the photograph.
- Photographs should focus on space shuttle launches and landings. Generally, very insider photographs won’t be seriously considered for inclusion in the slideshow.
- Photographs of space shuttle launches in the 1980s and 1990s are especially welcome. Many of us went to the last three launches with digital cameras, so those photographs dominate submissions. If you take the time to scan and submit an older photograph, you may have better odds.
- You MUST hold copyright on the photograph and be willing to give NASM permission to use the photograph. If they’re interested in including your photograph in the slideshow, they’ll contact you about that process. (In fact, after you submit photos, you should check the email account associated with your Flickr registration at least every ten days.) Copyright holders of selected photographs may also contribute those images to the NASM Archives, but that’s a different, follow-on process.
NASM is open until 7:30pm over the summer, so we also had plenty of time to traipse about one of our favorites spaces in the world. In addition to the new “Moving Beyond Earth” exhibit, we took a look at “Sprit and Opportunity: 10 Years Roving Across Mars,” which runs through September 15, and the new-to-us “Time and Navigation.” We couldn’t leave without breezing through “Apollo to the Moon.”
Sated with our visit to NASM, we headed home from our cross-country jaunt on Saturday. We returned our rental car, boarded the shuttle bus back to the airport, and heard the doors whoosh shut on our journey. But wait! As we peered out the bus’s window, we saw a spry, white-haired man exit the rental car facility and head behind to the next bus.
We had missed meeting Gene Cernan, the last man to walk on the Moon! Or did we?
We never use curbside check-in, but there was no one in line, and that vantage allowed us to watch for the next bus from the rental car facility. We didn’t see Gene Cernan get off the bus, but Doug headed one way and I headed the other to check the adjacent terminal stops.
There he was!
Apollo 17 Astronaut Gene Cernan, waiting in line to check in for his flight just like everybody else.
We approached. Doug said, “Mr. Cernan.” His daughter nudged him in our direction. “Could we take your photograph?” Doug asked. We thought he might be bothered, feel interrupted
Instead, he came right over to the rope, grabbed Anna’s hand, and said, “How about two?” Cernan and Anna chatted briefly about their flying plans that day, and Anna thanked him for going to the Moon for all of us. When he showed up in the security area, Anna wished him a good flight just before he entered the body scanner.
We’ve written about serendipity before here at Lofty Ambitions. Meeting Gene Cernan was indeed a happy accident. But it happened because we recognized someone who matters to us and were willing to take a little risk to seek out his company for a couple of minutes. As we continue to focus on The Cold War, cancer, and space exploration over this next year, we know we have to look for the unanticipated. Gene Cernan reminded us of that need both for immersion in our interests and for openness to what we can’t possibly predict will happen.
Tags: Cancer, In the Footsteps, Mars, Nuclear Weapons, Radioactivity, Serendipity
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August 6, 1945: An atomic weapon named “Little Boy” was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan. An estimated 70,000 people—almost one-third of the city’s population—and more than 90% of the physicians and nurses were killed by the bombing that day. In the days, months, and years after that event and the bombing of Nagasaki three days later, others died as a result of radiation exposure and related cancers.
August 6, 2012: The Mars rover named Curiosity landed on the Red Planet after more than eight months of travel. The final phase of Curiosity’s journey to Mars had been dubbed the “Seven Minutes of Terror” because of the complexity of using a sky crane to lower the rover safely to the planet’s surface. The rover has completed its original two-year mission to study the climate and geology of Mars and to establish that Mars once had a climate that could support microbial life—and Curiosity is still perusing Mars.
We made the connection between these events two years ago in a post called “Plutonium at Its Worst and Best.” That connection has kept niggling at our minds, so we plan to refocus on three intermingled topics between now and August 6, 2015.
Next year marks the 70th anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing, the first use of a nuclear weapon against an enemy. In our research and writing over the last several years at Lofty Ambitions, we’ve come to recognize this event as the beginning of The Cold War. For it was not only a strike against our enemy at the time in World War II, but also a powerful demonstration to our newly emerging adversary. As much as we used an atomic weapon to end the War in the Pacific, we used it to set up our future role in the world and our relationship with Russia.
We have decided that we will focus over this next year, at least in part, on this concept of early nuclear weapons development as the Countdown to The Cold War. We begin by pointing you to a particular series and related posts we’ve already published here:
We cannot ignore the relationship among nuclear weapons, radioactivity, and cancer. In fact, some of Anna’s other nonfiction deals very directly with cancer. And we’ve both been affected, especially over the last two years, by the deaths of family members and friends from cancer. So, over this next year, we’ll also pay special attention to cancer as a blog topic. Again, we point you to a few posts that underlie our interests and thinking about radioactivity, cancer, and risk:
Our interest in space exploration, both its history and what’s next, will continue to drive the content of this blog. In fact, we are on the verge of a slew of 50th anniversaries of space exploration, including the 50th anniversary of the first-ever spacewalk this coming June. The future may also be upon us, too, as NASA plans to launch its Orion capsule for a test flight this December. We continue to hone our Generation Space project and hope that it finds a great publisher.
For now, we’ll point you to a couple of our posts about Curiosity:
We’ll end this post as we began it, with the seemingly odd and perplexing juxtaposition of August 6 dates. On the one hand, a devastating moment that has reverberated for decades. On the other hand, an amazing moment that suggests an ambitious future.
Interview: Eileen Collins July 30, 2014Posted by Lofty Ambitions in Space Exploration, Video Interviews.
Tags: Space Shuttle, The End of the End
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Fifteen years ago, on July 23, 1999, Eileen Collins became the first female commander of a U.S. spacecraft. STS-93 launched the Chandra X-Ray Observatory. Collins and her crew returned to Earth on July 29. This week, we celebrate that accomplishment.
Also this week, Lofty Ambitions celebrates Collins’s command on STS-114, which launched on July 26, 2005, and landed that August 9. Collins was circling the globe on this date just nine years ago. That was a Return-To-Flight mission in which she flew the first-ever 360-degree maneuver so that the orbiter could be photographed by the crew aboard the International Space Station and be checked for possible damage to the tiles on its underside.
Collins had already become the first female Shuttle pilot aboard STS-63 in 1995 and repeated her pilot role on STS-84 two years later. That’s right—a four-time Shuttle astronaut.
We talked to Eileen Collins in 2012, and we’re excited to share the video of our conversation for the first time this week. Collins is one of the most gracious, vibrant, and diplomatic astronauts we’ve met.
Santa Fe Retreat: Judy Chicago July 23, 2014Posted by Lofty Ambitions in Science.
Tags: Apollo, Art & Science, Biology, Books, Cancer, Museums & Archives, Nuclear Weapons
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Shortly after we arrived in Santa Fe, Anna leafed through a free tabloid and discovered that the visual artist Judy Chicago was giving a gallery talk at the opening of her new show at the David Richard Gallery. Anna had first come across Chicago’s work in a women’s studies class taught by Penny Gold at Knox College.
We don’t usually write about art at Lofty Ambitions, but we do when there’s a connection to science or to aviation and space exploration. The new work at the gallery demonstrates Chicago’s recent interests in the human body and especially the surface and underlying bones and muscles of the head and face. She became interested in the tradition of anatomical drawings, like those by Leonardo DaVinci. This focus rose earlier in Chicago’s work, when she made three-dimensional cast sculptures of a woman undergoing cancer treatment—that series is casually referred to as the Toby heads. The more recent work, including paintings on glass, explores the relationship of the anatomy and physiology of the face to the expression or emotion that is presented or feigned. As she put it, “I’m interested in what’s under the skin.”
This exhibit and event are part of the year-long celebration of Judy Chicago’s 75th birthday, which also includes exhibits around the country. So a few days after seeing Judy Chicago in the flesh, Anna visited the New Mexico Museum of Art to see the exhibit there and get an overview from docent Meriom Kastner. That exhibit included Grand Toby Head with Copper Eye, 2010 and also several pieces that addressed nuclear science and industry. One of the pieces in the Holocaust Project, which was part of a series that could be viewed from different angles to different effects, offered commentary on the Apollo Moon landings (see the end of this post for photographs of that piece).
So, if all you’ve seen of Judy Chicago’s work are photographs of The Dinner Party, we suggest you look again. Her range of subject matter and artistic media is amazing. When she needed to do watercolors for a project, she learned how to do watercolors. When she became interested in glass and translucency in painting–or when the watercolor medium and techniques couldn’t support her vision for a piece–she took a workshop in glasswork. She even worked with a foundry to figure out how to cast paper as a large three-dimensional sculpture.
Her new book, Institutional Time, is now on Anna’s reading list in hopes that Chicago’s critique of visual art education in universities might shed some light on creative writing education as well. In fact, Anna published a conversation essay with graphic designer Claudine Jaenichen and visual artist Lia Halloran in New Writing and is very interested in connections across different artistic fields.
Of course, we were in Santa Fe to write. And several of our recent posts have offered ways to turn our attention toward writing. Though Judy Chicago talked about visual art and her own artistic practices, much of what she said in her gallery talk applies to writing and to collaboration. Her attitude is one of adventure, of trying new things, of pushing yourself beyond what you can already do comfortably.
We share some of her words of wisdom here:
What isn’t imaged can’t become part of the cultural discourse.
New forms allow new content.
Every failure is an important success—a step in success.
I was interested in how a gesture could mean a variety of things.
I do like to play with details.
For me, art is about discovery. It’s about discovering what different techniques allow me to express.
Judy Chicago explained that Disappointed Head was inspired by a disappointed artist she knew who, in his fifties, thought getting into a particular gallery would change his life. He went into debt, got into that gallery, and nothing changed.
Finally, Judy Chicago’s comment about tattoos (and her use of tattoo-like techniques on porcelain heads) because who doesn’t wonder: I’m not doing that on my ass, I can tell you that!
Santa Fe Retreat (2) July 16, 2014Posted by Lofty Ambitions in Science, Writing.
Tags: Art & Science, In the Footsteps, Nuclear Weapons, Physics, Radioactivity, Writing Retreats
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Recently, we spent eleven days in Santa Fe on our very own self-made writing retreat. Writing was our goal, but we also recommend Santa Fe as a great getaway even if getting away from your routine is your only goal. You can read about lodging, food, and shopping in our first Santa Fe Retreat post. But wait, there’s more!
MUSEUMS & GALLERIES
Santa Fe is a hub of galleries and has several good art and history museums. When we took a loop around the Plaza, many of the passers-by were chatting about their own art practices or exhibits they had seen. Santa Fe’s Society of Artists features 44 artists, and the city boasts several art schools.
When Anna discovered that the David Richard Gallery was hosting an opening for Judy Chicago’s newest work and that she and art historian Kathy Battista would be giving a gallery talk, she rushed over to the Railyard. During that talk, Anna learned that an exhibit of Judy Chicago’s work since The Dinner Party was on display at the New Mexico Museum of Art. A lovely docent named Miriom Kastner offered an overview of the exhibit, the progression of Chicago’s themes, and the various media Chicago has learned and used in her work over the last several decades.
Some of Judy Chicago’s work fits the subject matter we cover at Lofty Ambitions, and she had some great things to say about the creative process, so we’ll have a separate post focusing on her work and ideas.
FIELD TRIP: LOS ALAMOS
Doug’s writing time in Santa Fe was devoted to his novel-in-progress, The Chief and the Gadget. The Chief is the passenger train between Chicago and Los Angeles, and The Gadget refers to the first atomic weapon, which was developed in Los Alamos. Of course, though we’d been there before, we had to spend a day on The Hill, at Los Alamos. Our two destinations were The Los Alamos Historical Museum and the Bradbury Science Museum, both of which are free.
We hung out at Fuller Lodge, where scientists like J. Robert Oppenheimer, Neils Bohr, and Enrico Fermi socialized. We drove by Oppenheimer’s house on Bathtub Row, now a private residence. The property used for the Manhattan Project had been a boys’ boarding school when the government bought it in 1942, so Fuller Lodge is also where William S. Burroughs and Gore Vidal ate meals as teenagers.
The Bradbury Science Museum is run by the Los Alamos National Laboratory so it covers the history of the Manhattan Project and also the lab’s research projects since then. We watched a short version of the documentary The Town That Never Was and perused the exhibit about some of the individuals who had lived on The Hill as part of the Manhattan Project.
Yerkes Observatory (Photos!) July 9, 2014Posted by Lofty Ambitions in Science, Space Exploration.
Tags: Art & Science, Palomar Observatory
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This past weekend, we visited Yerkes Observatory in Williams Bay, Wisconsin, near where we each vacationed as children, long before we knew each other. This University of Chicago observatory was funded by Charles Tyson Yerkes, but the 40-inch refracting telescope and the building that houses it are the result of George Ellery Hale’s first grand vision to build the largest telescope in the world. If you haven’t read our posts about Hale that emerged from our visit to Palomar Observatory, you might want to browse that series after this post.
Richard and Dan were the docents on Saturday, and they ran extra tours, back to back for several hours because hundreds of people opted for a trip to the observatory after a round of golf or before an afternoon on the lake during this beautiful holiday weekend. In fact, we were impressed by the level of interest in the observatory and the range of ages of visitors, which reminded us that people think space is cool.
Yerkes Observatory was dedicated in October 1897. The telescope was designed especially to use the spectroheliograph, an instrument Hale had invented himself to study gases in the Sun. He used this instrument to detect carbon in an outer layer of the Sun even before the observatory was officially dedicated. Some of the glass plates from observations of days of yore are now displayed as window panes. Gerard Kuiper, who would go on in his career to discover atmosphere on Titan as well as moons circling outer planets, started his work as an astronomer at Yerkes Observatory.
Though Hale went on to best this once-largest telescope and though subsequent advances, including the Hubble Space Telescope, now reveal parts of the universe farther than this 40-incher can see, Yerkes Observatory remains an active research center. Researchers here are building the HAWC—High-resolution Airborne Wideband Camera—for NASA’s SOFIA project, a Boeing 747 modified to be an airborne observatory. The observatory hosts several educational outreach programs too, in which students can visit the grounds for observations or can operate smaller telescopes by remote control over the internet to conduct observations.
Even if you’re not particularly interested in space, Yerkes Observatory is an architectural marvel, boasting gothic images of satyrs that might be Yerkes himself and three domes. Take a look here at Yerkes Observatory through Lofty Ambitions’ eyes.
Lofty Ambitions Anniversary: 4 Years! July 2, 2014Posted by Lofty Ambitions in Collaboration, Writing.
Tags: Beer, Cancer, JPL, Science Writing, Space Shuttle, SpaceX
It was an unusually busy spring for the Lofty Duo. Doug was the conference coordinator for Intertwingled: The Work and Influence of Ted Nelson, and Anna took on a new book project while still trying to work on her book about the history of the space program. Our transition into a summer schedule was abrupt, and it’s caused us some reflection.
One of the things that we just realized is that this week marks the fourth anniversary of Lofty Ambitions. We actually wrote a prologue post on June 30, 2010, to map out our basic plan for Lofty Ambitions. In that post, we announced that the blog would begin formally on July 1, 2010—so it did.
If you look at the blog’s tag cloud on the right-hand side of the page, you’ll see that Beer appears as one of the most common tags in our blog, so we’ll be tipping a pint tonight with Anna’s sister, Brigid, and their Aunt Maggie in celebration of four years of consistent publication.
One of the primary reasons that we started this blog, besides our mutual love of aviation and writing, was to document the end of the Space Shuttle program. Many years ago, after we’d done some academic writing about aviation museums, we talked about collaborating on a book that would highlight three aircraft from different eras of the twentieth century. We’d missed out on any opportunities to be connected to the first two aircraft by virtue of our mid-1960’s births. But the shuttle was the last of those three aircraft. Yes, we know that the shuttle is also a spacecraft, but it looks the way it does and landed the way it did because, underneath it all, it’s an airplane. In 2010, we wanted to get close to it before it was gone.
We got closer that we ever could have hoped. This blog and our university magazine helped us garner press credentials to witness two of the last three shuttle launches, and we documented those experience through this blog, magazine articles, and newspaper stories. By putting our experiences out in front of the world, we also inadvertently became people that you could contact when you had a question about NASA or the shuttle. We both agree that the things of which we are most proud are the questions that we’ve answered and the connections we’ve made because people have read the blog and wanted to know more. Along the way, we’ve answered questions about the height of astronauts, helped two fifth-graders win first place in a statewide history contest, and been told by the astronauts who were there that we got the facts right.
In the last four years, we’ve managed to post every single Wednesday. We’ve come right up against the deadline on a few occasions, but we’ve managed to get something out every week. Our blog stats reveal that this is our 421st post. If you’re quick with the arithmetic, you’ll realize that’s significantly more posts than four years worth of Wednesdays. Often when we go to a big event—like a rocket launch—we publish every day that we’re on site.
We also use a rough average of a thousand words per post. A little more arithmetic will tell you that that comes to 421,000 words (more or less).
One of the missions of the blog is to discuss writing-as-a-couple. We are happy to report that being responsible together for producing a blog post every Wednesday has been great for us in terms of our writing and our coupledom. We’ve thoroughly enjoyed the ability to collaborate and engage with each other as writers.
THIS PAST YEAR
In the past year, we’ve recorded a number of our activities as multi-post series. LaunchPad is a wonderful opportunity for writers to learn more science, specifically astronomy & cosmology. A Writing Residency details the two separate stays we had at Dorland Mountain Arts Colony; we plan to get back there again in this next year. Palomar Observatory & George Hale is an extensive look at the life of George Ellery Hale and one of the observatories that he built; we’re trying to figure out how to visit another of his visions soon. And JPL & EarthNow is one of the wonderful NASASocial programs that we were selected to attend. We’ve also written about losing friends to cancer, and Anna’s new book project has something to do with that.
Last year’s posts, both those that are a part of a series and those that stand alone, have served to remind us of how many things are going on in the areas of interest to Lofty Ambitions: Aviation and Space Exploration, Science, and Writing as a Couple.
The vagaries of our schedules and rocket launches are such that we haven’t been to a launch in this past year, though we’ve happily watched blog posts, Facebook status updates, and tweets as a number of the friends that we’ve made via this blog have been to launches. We meant to go to the SpaceX-3 Commercial Resupply Services flight launch, but it was delayed in March (when we could go) and wound up be launched in April (when we couldn’t go). We’ve both agreed that we need to go see a launch in the near future, and we’re keeping our eyes on the two SpaceX Falcon Heavy launches planned for 2015.
As always, we continue to be grateful that we’re able to write about the things that we love to do, about which we want to learn more. At the same time, we’re always on the lookout for new challenges, new opportunities. It’s been a wonderful four years, and we are already planning for the next four. Keep reading!
Santa Fe Retreat (1) June 25, 2014Posted by Lofty Ambitions in Writing.
Tags: Books, Writing Retreats
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With Anna not teaching in the summers and with Doug on his first professional development leave this summer, we decided to splurge on our very own self-made, eleven-day writing retreat in Santa Fe.
Writing was our goal, but we also recommend Santa Fe as a great getaway even if getting away from your routine is your only goal. In fact, this post is more about the context that fostered our work instead of bout the writing process or product itself.
Writers on a retreat need space to write, and this retreat required space for two. We also wanted a kitchen to conserve writing time and save money. Thanks to Debbie Rindge, who discovered the place several years ago, we stayed at Fort Marcy Suites, which offers 1-, 2-, and 3-bedroom suites and had a decent nightly rate compared with hotels nearer to the Plaza. The walk to the Plaza is just a few minutes, but the walk back is all uphill, which we liked as a sort of forced exercise despite the altitude. Doug wrote at the dining room table, and Anna wrote in the living room, illuminated by the skylight.
Fort Marcy Suites would also work well for a family or couples on vacation. For those who don’t want the extra space and the kitchen or the walk, La Fonda is Santa Fe’s classic hotel. For those who won’t spend much time in the room and don’t want to spend as much cash on lodging, Garrett’s is a motel within walking distance of the Plaza. It’s wise to book early, as these lodging options sell out at certain times of the year.
We went to the Whole Foods the first full day we were in Santa Fe to stock up on food, mostly food the could be made quickly or eaten without cooking, like fruit, hummus, and cheese. Most of our meals, we ate in.
Meals out were rewards or respites for us, and we indulged ourselves more in the second half of our retreat, after we’d accumulated thousands of words. We repeated our favorites. Twice, we ate blue corn pinion pancakes and the trout breakfast at La Fonda’s La Plazuela. Twice, we had pizza with kooky toppings and a couple of IPAs at Draft Station. And twice, we ate pumpkin ravioli, mushroom gnocchi or walnut gorgonzola ravioli, and antipasti at Il Piatto’s late happy hour that featured half-price wine and appetizers and a prix fixe that’s a great deal. We are creatures of habit, and meals became ritual here.
We found a new favorite restaurant too, a late-retreat, big-reward restaurant that came highly recommended: La Casa Sena, which has a large patio for dining. We ate goat cheese sweet corn croquettes, seafood appetizer involving curry and yucca chips, and the red quinoa butternut squash moussakka. It’s known for its wine selection, and we opted for one we’d first had at Bin 36 years ago in a different vintage: David Bruce Petit Syrah.
We didn’t get back to two restaurants we like: Tomasita’s, which is a short drive to the Railyard area, and Pasqual’s, which is very small and, therefore, always has a wait and can feel rushed. And sadly, the casual Atomic Grill next to Pasqual’s has become something else.
To offset our culinary extravagances a wee bit, Doug worked out at the Fort Marcy Recreation Center, just a couple of blocks from where we stayed, and Anna took a couple of long walks around downtown, listening to Madonna and occasionally popping into a store to browse.
We weren’t in Santa Fe to shop, but what writer doesn’t seek out the local independent bookstore and buy a book? Collected Works is located right in the heart of things and seems to have a steady flow of traffic. The bookstore hosts lots of events and has the requisite coffee shop space. The fiction and biography sections are good, the new nonfiction is extensive, and, of course, there’s a good selection of books related in some way to the Southwest. Though she didn’t realize it until she was reading the book on the flight home, Christopher Hitchens’s book Mortality was published by Hachette, the company with which Amazon is currently feuding.
The Plaza area boasts many shops, most of them independently owned, but we want to mention just one. Two brothers opened Ojo Optique last August to focus on eyewear by independent designers who do only eyewear. If you think you’re getting something special with Oakley, Prada, or Versace, you’re probably wrong because Luxottica makes 80% of the world’s eyewear, owns the second largest vision benefits company in the United States, and was investigated by 60 Minutes. We had some fun trying on frames from Salt, which is based in California; Moscot, which started a hundred years ago out of a pushcart in New York City; Anne & Valentin, a company started by a couple in love in Toulouse; and many more independent eyewear designers.
We’d rather support Collected Works and Ojo Optique than Amazon and Luxottica.