Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Project Moonwatch



In a place far away and long ago, I was once in 6th grade.  Seems like forever ago.  Cool things happened during 6th grade; terrible things happened then, too.  I tracked satellites for the Government, got my first telescope, watched the most beautiful all-night Aurora Borealis on my 12th birthday and became super interested in astronomy.  My Dad was killed in a passenger plane crash during that time, too.  Like the line from Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities:  “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times….”.  Today’s blog is about one of those ‘best’ of times, tracking satellites for the Government.  It was just the coolest thing for me, almost ever.  Not quite 12 years old, I was treated like an adult, doing adult scientific satellite tracking stuff with adult scientists.  So very cool.  I remember it well but still had to do a lot of research to get the background, pictures and sequence of events so I could ‘splain it better.

First, some necessary techno-babble background.  Sorry but you gotta know the background of “IGY”, as we always called it.  The International Council of Scientific Unions in 1952 proposed a comprehensive series of global geophysical activities to span the period July 1957-December 1958. The International Geophysical Year (IGY), as it was called, was modeled on the International Polar Years of 1882-1883 and 1932-1933 and was intended to allow scientists from around the world to take part in a series of coordinated observations of various geophysical phenomena.  Research technologies and tools had advanced greatly since the 1930s, allowing scientists a scope of investigation without precedent. Cosmic ray recorders, spectroscopes, and radiosonde balloons had opened the upper atmosphere to detailed exploration, while newly developed electronic computers facilitated the analysis of large data sets. But the most dramatic of the new technologies available to the IGY was the rocket. Post-World War II developments in rocketry for the first time made the exploration of space a real possibility; working with the new technologies, Soviet and American participants sent artificial satellites into earth orbit. In successfully launching science into space, the IGY may have scored its greatest breakthrough.  What follows was my part in IGY.

During my 6th grade, the Cold War was in high gear, Russians vs. Americans.  Bomb Shelters were being built by Americans in their backyards, the ‘Red Scare’ was in full swing and schools had Atomic Bomb ‘get under your desk’ drills.  That last one sure seems silly now, but it was very serious back then.  That wooden desk was going to save me from a thermonuclear blast ….……Uh, right!  The Space Race hadn’t started yet because no one had rocketed anything into outer space.

Then, on October 4, 1957, the Russians stunned the world by launching the first successful artificial satellite into earth orbit.  Sputnik, as it was called, was a little bigger than a basketball and sent back radio signals that were just electronic beeps.  That’s all, just a beep sound. There were a few instruments that functioned for a short time before power ran out and beamed some measurements down to earth (actually received by Australia who refused to give the info to the Russians because the Russians wouldn’t share it).  So, basically just a big, silver ball that went ‘BEEP’ every few seconds.  But it caught America by surprise.  We had no ‘space radar’, no long range ‘optical telescopes’ for tracking that satellite.  Those tools were in the ‘works’ but not yet deployed.  The U.S. government needed tracking information NOW and had none.  Almost a month later, the Russians launched a dog into space.  Now there were two satellites to track. 

The U.S. Navy had a few epic self destruct failed satellite launches before a previously shunned Dr Warner Von Braun, working on the side with the Air Force, launched the United States’ first satellite, named “Explorer 1” and that was another for us to track. 


Project Moonwatch was the brainchild of Harvard astronomer Fred L. Whipple. In 1955, as the recently appointed director of the Smithsonian Astrophysical Laboratory in Cambridge, MA, Whipple proposed that amateurs could play a vital role in efforts to track the future first satellites. He overcame the objections of colleagues who doubted ordinary citizens could do the job or who wanted the task for their own institutions. Eventually, Whipple carved out a place for amateurs in the IGY

Once professional scientists had accepted the idea that ordinary citizens could spot satellites and contribute to legitimate scientific research, Whipple and his colleagues organized amateurs around the world. Citizens formed Operation Moonwatch teams in towns and cities all around the globe.

In my little neighborhood was a good friend, Jerry Venable, who had the same science interest as me.  We were in the same grade, same class at Cranbrook Elementary School.  He and I had gone to Veteran’s Memorial Hall to ‘cover’ a presentation of UFO’s for our class.  A block from his house was a company called IRD and he found out that Scientists from Battelle Memorial Institue were using the roof of the IRD building to set up a satellite tracking program in the Columbus area for “Project Moonwatch”.  His Dad went with him to find out what was going on and got an invite for the both of us to join the scientists.  Thus began my involvement in Project Moonwatch.

The IRD building had one of those flat roofs and the leaders had set up rows of picnic tables for us to use.  Most of the ‘Moonwatchers’ throughout the country had crude set ups but ours was using scientific equipment from Battelle.   All the picnic tables had table clothes (Ritzy!), a wide-field low power telescope, a small red light so we could see in the dark without ruining our night vision, paper and pencil and an electric push button.  An office was set up in a little rooftop building with several imaginative machines.  One was a shortwave radio set to the National Bureau of Standards time station WWV.  It was synced to a paper tape machine that spit gobs of paper tape from a roll, through the ‘burner’ and on to a take up roll.  This was an old-fashion thermal tape machine with an electric stylus that actually burned a mark on the paper via an electrical current.  Whenever we would push a button, it would also make a mark for as long as we held the button.  You’re probably asking yourself, “What the hell is he talking about?”  Be patient as it all comes together soon.

The telescopes were small and covered only a little portion of the sky.  They pointed down but had a mirror so we could see the sky.  We never were sure where the satellites would be in the sky so there were many ‘scopes’ overlapping each other and that way, we covered the entire sky.  We knew roughly when the satellites would pass overhead and would pick a seat, any seat that wasn’t taken, about twenty or so minutes before a satellite would pass over us.  Each observer had a pad of paper and a pencil and a pushbutton.  Once seated, we would draw the star field in our scope, grab the button and wait.  As soon as the passing satellite would enter our field of view, we pushed and held the button until the satellite exited our view.  Immediately after that, we would draw the path the satellite took on our hand drawn star field and take it to the team leader.  Each button would make a unique mark on the paper so the leader would know who pushed to make it.  Since the tape was synced to scientific timing, scientists would be able to assemble information that showed exactly when the satellite passed each star and assemble the exact path and time that the satellite traveled.  By today’s standards, very crude but in 1958, it was damned good.  The tape and drawings were taken to Battelle Memorial Institute and programmed into those old fashioned, room sized Giant computers and then forwarded to Washington.  Quite effective. 

Jerry and I would show up just after dark and stay until ten or eleven o’clock at night.  Mom would make a thermos of coffee for the adults and one with hot chocolate for Jerry and I.  Sometimes, someone would bring doughnuts.  Some days we’d do the early morning thing, showing up at two or three in the morning.  You’ve got to remember that in the late 50’s, winter was Real Winter.  Near, or below zero at night.  Being kids, Jerry and I didn’t care if we froze – it was just so neat doing this stuff.  Our team leader, Graham Kendall was a scientist at Battelle and once brought us vials of meteor dust from a meteor they were analyzing at the Institute.  They had sawed it into pieces and he saved some of the ‘dust’ for us.  So very neat, indeed.  We did this for months, through the winter of '57-'58 and into Spring of 1958.  When Dad died in May, I think that was when I stopped going to Moonwatch.  But Graham had introduced Jerry and me to the Columbus Astronomical Society (which we joined).  We became the youngest members at the time and were given full adult privileges, making trips to the 69” Hale Telescope at Perkins Observatory in Delaware, Ohio with the membership.  Again, so very cool.

At the end of the International Geophysical Year, Jerry and I were presented with the same accolades as the adult scientists we worked with.  We were told that he and I were the youngest members in the nation.  They gave us a certificate from the Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory in Cambridge, Mass. co-signed by Doctor J. Allen Hynek, on leave as Ohio State University astronomy professor to join the effort to put a U.S. satellite into space, He was in charge of tracking operations statewide. (He later gained fame as a UFO expert.)  They also gave us a really great lapel pin.  Unfortunately, the great flood of January, 1959 destroyed our house along with my pin, certificate and meteor dust.  Bummer.  But I still have the memories.  Mom was very good to drive me and pick me up at all hours of the night and early morning.  Dad thought I was turning into a little Mad Scientist.  For Jerry and me, it was just the greatest.


5 comments:

  1. Never knew you did this, or that this even happened. Very cool. Reminds me of my setting up computers at home for years to do the SETI at-home radio telescope scans to see if any signals could be detected in the thousands of hours they recorded.

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  2. What a beautiful, thoughtful post. So many wondrous and frightening things in the sky - then and now. Your dad would be proud. I would say he is proud, but that would just sound... weird. But, he is.

    Something interesting I learned about a year ago: "The 1958 collision between United Airlines Flight 736 and a fighter jet, as well as another U.S. military/civilian crash one month later involving Capital Airlines Flight 300, hastened the signing of the Federal Aviation Act of 1958 into law. The act created the Federal Aviation Agency (later renamed the Federal Aviation Administration), and provided unified control of airspace for both civil and military flights."

    Sky connection.

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  3. I remember those days...remember the "telescope" Christmas. Yay Dad & Mom! I didn't know all the accolades and acclaim you acquired. I'm so proud of you, little brother. PS, did the founder of Moonwatch (Fred Whipple) later become a grocer/spokesman for Charmin toilet paper?
    Just kidding...Great post, Kel. Great one!

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  4. This is another of those times that I'm blown away by your intelligence, my darling, my spider assasin. Great post, this helps the family learn more facets of you. Love, your wifey

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  5. Dad used to tell us stories when we were kids, mostly about the misadventures of Mike, Pat and Kelly from Kelly's point of view. Those were some of the funniest things I heard as a kid. I loved reading this. While not funny, it helps me understand your (and consequently, my) obsession with NASA and rockets even more.

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