(no subject)
Here's an Apollo 11 semicentennial thing I posted on Facebook. The first of a series, I hope:
I didn't have family working in aerospace or anything--my dad was in charge of the research support shop for a pharmaceutical company, supervising the repair of research instruments, and inventing a few himself. He was an aviation buff, but space didn't speak to him. But somehow I caught the space bug. Part of it was that I had older brothers who were enthused about the Gemini program that was gradually unfolding on the TV. I remember almost a chant of rendezvous and docking (I didn't hear the non-space uses of those words until years later), and the drama of the countdown. But there was also the Kalamazoo museum with its planetarium. It was located upstairs from the public library, lit dimly and mysteriously.
There was an assortment of dull-to-me 19th century pioneer artifacts, but there were some awe-inspiring artifacts. In a dimly lit side room, there was an actual Egyptian mummy, lit even more dimly than the rest of the museum, surrounded by artifacts that gave the feeling of entering an exotic, magic, and slightly creepy space.
At the entrance of the museum was a huge (I'll guess six-foot) globe, with sculped continents and mountains, painted in natural blues, greens, and tans. It was my image of what the earth looked like. And by the entrance to the planetarium, there was a huge half-moon globe. Evidently someone manufactured dozens of these for museums. One even served as a prop for astronaut portraits. It was awesome, covered with craters and maria. I seem to recal there were concealed lights to illuminate the various phases of the moon.
I say it was a half-globe, because what it was made, no one had seen the far side of the moon, and the Luna 3 images of the far side were hardly satisfactory for crafting an accurate globe.
So this is the moon that Apollo would fly to someday (It would be just a few short years, but from the perspective of a small child, it was an eternity.
Of course, inside the doors of the planetarium was the absolute magic of the Spitz projector that somehow turned the indoors into the night sky. It's the machine that turned me into an amateur astronomer, and ultimately the astronomy instructor I am today.
A few years ago, I was in Kalamazoo to see Amy McNally and The Tooles play at an Irish festival, and I discovered the museum had been relocated a few blocks from the concert, and the moon globe had been lovingly restored to all its glory. Here's a photo I took (with a timer!) of me and that awe-inspiring orb.
Here's a closeup of some craters, just to show off the detail of the thing:
I didn't have family working in aerospace or anything--my dad was in charge of the research support shop for a pharmaceutical company, supervising the repair of research instruments, and inventing a few himself. He was an aviation buff, but space didn't speak to him. But somehow I caught the space bug. Part of it was that I had older brothers who were enthused about the Gemini program that was gradually unfolding on the TV. I remember almost a chant of rendezvous and docking (I didn't hear the non-space uses of those words until years later), and the drama of the countdown. But there was also the Kalamazoo museum with its planetarium. It was located upstairs from the public library, lit dimly and mysteriously.
There was an assortment of dull-to-me 19th century pioneer artifacts, but there were some awe-inspiring artifacts. In a dimly lit side room, there was an actual Egyptian mummy, lit even more dimly than the rest of the museum, surrounded by artifacts that gave the feeling of entering an exotic, magic, and slightly creepy space.
At the entrance of the museum was a huge (I'll guess six-foot) globe, with sculped continents and mountains, painted in natural blues, greens, and tans. It was my image of what the earth looked like. And by the entrance to the planetarium, there was a huge half-moon globe. Evidently someone manufactured dozens of these for museums. One even served as a prop for astronaut portraits. It was awesome, covered with craters and maria. I seem to recal there were concealed lights to illuminate the various phases of the moon.
I say it was a half-globe, because what it was made, no one had seen the far side of the moon, and the Luna 3 images of the far side were hardly satisfactory for crafting an accurate globe.
So this is the moon that Apollo would fly to someday (It would be just a few short years, but from the perspective of a small child, it was an eternity.
Of course, inside the doors of the planetarium was the absolute magic of the Spitz projector that somehow turned the indoors into the night sky. It's the machine that turned me into an amateur astronomer, and ultimately the astronomy instructor I am today.
A few years ago, I was in Kalamazoo to see Amy McNally and The Tooles play at an Irish festival, and I discovered the museum had been relocated a few blocks from the concert, and the moon globe had been lovingly restored to all its glory. Here's a photo I took (with a timer!) of me and that awe-inspiring orb.
Here's a closeup of some craters, just to show off the detail of the thing: