On 31 January 1958 the US launched its first artifical satellite, ushering this country into the space age...50 years ago today.
It was meant to be.
The United States launched its first satellite into space on 31 January 1958. Several months later on 1 October 1958 the National Aeronautics and Space Administration was founded. In between these two history making events a much less monumental event occurred. Perhaps it was somewhat as important, however, to a small knot of people in central Alabama. I was born.
As I always tell everyone, I was born into the space age. Naturally I would have a close connection with it. It was meant to be.
Now, this will sound like a low budget B movie from the early sixties. In fact, when I had told this before, I was accused of inventing such a worse-than-ordinary story that several people said, “I could have come up with a more imaginative idea than that!” I was accused of invention. The fact of the matter is that my story is true.
I was there, so I was told, in front of the television when Alan Shepherd finally had that candle lit and pushed the U.S. into its first baby steps to manned space flight. If you count that up, recalling that Shepherd’s flight was 5 May 1961, you will see that I was rather young to be making the claim. However, my parents assured me I was right there with them, and so I’m sticking to the story. Remember or no, I was there. (And I haven’t missed seeing a launch since.)
I have a better recall of the Gemini program. Still young to be able to understand all the implications, technology and sheer will this program brought to bear, I do recall it. Our teachers were certain that the space program would have such a profound affect on all areas of our lives that they dragged old black and white television sets into the classroom to be certain that we did not miss a launch. For some kids this was the same as in-house leave…a free morning from class work. There were those of us though who were quite literally glued to the tube from the moment it was turned on until coverage ended or the teacher turned it off. (“Don’t sit so close! You’ll ruin your eyes!)
And then those teachers had the nerve to ask, “And what do you want to be when you grow up?” From the earliest memory of that question, I recall my emphatic and immediate answer. “I want to work for NASA and build rockets!” This was met with a quirky smile and a pat on the head. Of course many kids at that time shared similar visions. And of course they would outgrow them as they got older and were exposed to more subjects, more experiences and more “real world” careers. Most of all, I would outgrow it, they were certain, because I was…a girl. And in the early 1960’s girls most decisively didn’t do things like that. At least not a girl from small town USA reared in all the stereotypical girlish manners. Wait, at least my mother tried to raise me that way.
Nature took its course though. My nature. I was the biggest tomboy around. (Many who know me say I still am!) I would sneak away from my mother’s lessons in crocheting, baking and how to help raise my baby sister and join my male friends in their rugged pursuits. One of these was building rockets. At that time and for kids of our age and means, that was not like “Rocket Boys,” by any means! But we tried.
All this fueled my interest and determination. Math and science became near obsessions for me. I read every science and science fiction book in our small library, and read them over again until more arrived. I devoured every “Life” magazine article about the building of the mighty Saturns. When I was in fourth grade, I received my first telescope, which did not encourage any return to Barbie and Easy Bake Oven.
And then IT happened. I still draw in a breath and hold it as I recall; the memory is sharp as if it were yesterday. Men walking on the moon! (Or hopping at least.) But they were there! It was surrealistic. To my ten year old eyes, it was nearly like all the Saturday movies I devoured with my father, who was a big a sci-fi and NASA fan as I was. Except this was not in color (at least not the very first steps), and it was kind of fuzzy…and it was real!
There was no looking back after that. I quite literally spent my entire life getting ready for that ideal, dream career at NASA. I realize now that I had been training all my life for it. When I read “Thirteen: the Flight that Failed,” by Henry S. F. Cooper back in 1972, I didn’t know that when I did go to work for NASA, I would call on that memory (made firm by the notes I took from the book on how the failure occurred) to lecture some of my fellow workers in Safety and Mission Assurance, younger than me, who knew about the explosion…but how did that oxygen tank get in that shape to go boom?
Through all the experiences, subjects and other careers that I was exposed to in my life, none deterred me. Oh, certainly, there was the occasional thing that grabbed my attention firmly. The closest I came to departing my dream was a minor flirtation with applying to graduate school to study fusion physics. Just in time though, STS-1 launched and plastered me to the television once more. (“We can’t see! Get out of the way. Besides, you’ll ruin your eyes!) I knew when I saw that beautiful, but odd, looking thing take off that I couldn’t abandon my lifelong dream. (“Ms. Lindley? We got your application and wanted to talk to you about a fellowship.” “Huh? Oh that…well…you see…it was a mistake. Must’ve, ah, sent it to the wrong school. You’re the school of nuclear physics??” “Yes, Dr. Williams said he talked to you when he visited your university.” Gulp…he remembered me!) Fortunately Dr. Williams was very nice about it all and completely understood. Especially about a lifelong dream.
So, when I graduated from college not long after that experience, the only place where I applied for a job was with NASA. Nowhere else. And I sat and waited. “What? A hiring freeze?? Okay…” Sigh… Now what? But just a couple weeks later, fate stepped in as it had to (it was meant to be!) and I was offered a co-op position. Not that ideal, dream job…but it was a job with NASA! “Sure, you bet!” All I had to do was…apply to graduate school…but the “right” way this time.
And fate is a funny thing. (It was meant to be!) Before I could get that process finished, I got another call from NASA. This time a real job. A full time position as an aerospace engineer. Was I interested? Was I interested?? I nearly bit my tongue off to not laugh into the mouthpiece. WAS I INTERESTED?? That was like asking if I needed air to breath.
That was in September, 1981, not very long before STS-2. And after twenty-six and a half years (but who’s counting?), here I still am. Still working happily away at NASA. Over twenty-two years working on the Space Shuttle Main Engines and now working on the Ares vehicle.
In 2008 NASA will be 50 years old and so will I. No, it doesn’t hurt to say it. I was born into the space age. I was born when NASA was. It was meant to be. Happy birthday to NASA and to everything the agency and its people have accomplished. There will be an extra candle on my cake for you…perhaps one that looks like a rocket. (“It’s not rocket science!” “It’s not? Then I can’t do it; I am a rocket scientist!”)
It was meant to be.
The United States launched its first satellite into space on 31 January 1958. Several months later on 1 October 1958 the National Aeronautics and Space Administration was founded. In between these two history making events a much less monumental event occurred. Perhaps it was somewhat as important, however, to a small knot of people in central Alabama. I was born.
As I always tell everyone, I was born into the space age. Naturally I would have a close connection with it. It was meant to be.
Now, this will sound like a low budget B movie from the early sixties. In fact, when I had told this before, I was accused of inventing such a worse-than-ordinary story that several people said, “I could have come up with a more imaginative idea than that!” I was accused of invention. The fact of the matter is that my story is true.
I was there, so I was told, in front of the television when Alan Shepherd finally had that candle lit and pushed the U.S. into its first baby steps to manned space flight. If you count that up, recalling that Shepherd’s flight was 5 May 1961, you will see that I was rather young to be making the claim. However, my parents assured me I was right there with them, and so I’m sticking to the story. Remember or no, I was there. (And I haven’t missed seeing a launch since.)
I have a better recall of the Gemini program. Still young to be able to understand all the implications, technology and sheer will this program brought to bear, I do recall it. Our teachers were certain that the space program would have such a profound affect on all areas of our lives that they dragged old black and white television sets into the classroom to be certain that we did not miss a launch. For some kids this was the same as in-house leave…a free morning from class work. There were those of us though who were quite literally glued to the tube from the moment it was turned on until coverage ended or the teacher turned it off. (“Don’t sit so close! You’ll ruin your eyes!)
And then those teachers had the nerve to ask, “And what do you want to be when you grow up?” From the earliest memory of that question, I recall my emphatic and immediate answer. “I want to work for NASA and build rockets!” This was met with a quirky smile and a pat on the head. Of course many kids at that time shared similar visions. And of course they would outgrow them as they got older and were exposed to more subjects, more experiences and more “real world” careers. Most of all, I would outgrow it, they were certain, because I was…a girl. And in the early 1960’s girls most decisively didn’t do things like that. At least not a girl from small town USA reared in all the stereotypical girlish manners. Wait, at least my mother tried to raise me that way.
Nature took its course though. My nature. I was the biggest tomboy around. (Many who know me say I still am!) I would sneak away from my mother’s lessons in crocheting, baking and how to help raise my baby sister and join my male friends in their rugged pursuits. One of these was building rockets. At that time and for kids of our age and means, that was not like “Rocket Boys,” by any means! But we tried.
All this fueled my interest and determination. Math and science became near obsessions for me. I read every science and science fiction book in our small library, and read them over again until more arrived. I devoured every “Life” magazine article about the building of the mighty Saturns. When I was in fourth grade, I received my first telescope, which did not encourage any return to Barbie and Easy Bake Oven.
And then IT happened. I still draw in a breath and hold it as I recall; the memory is sharp as if it were yesterday. Men walking on the moon! (Or hopping at least.) But they were there! It was surrealistic. To my ten year old eyes, it was nearly like all the Saturday movies I devoured with my father, who was a big a sci-fi and NASA fan as I was. Except this was not in color (at least not the very first steps), and it was kind of fuzzy…and it was real!
There was no looking back after that. I quite literally spent my entire life getting ready for that ideal, dream career at NASA. I realize now that I had been training all my life for it. When I read “Thirteen: the Flight that Failed,” by Henry S. F. Cooper back in 1972, I didn’t know that when I did go to work for NASA, I would call on that memory (made firm by the notes I took from the book on how the failure occurred) to lecture some of my fellow workers in Safety and Mission Assurance, younger than me, who knew about the explosion…but how did that oxygen tank get in that shape to go boom?
Through all the experiences, subjects and other careers that I was exposed to in my life, none deterred me. Oh, certainly, there was the occasional thing that grabbed my attention firmly. The closest I came to departing my dream was a minor flirtation with applying to graduate school to study fusion physics. Just in time though, STS-1 launched and plastered me to the television once more. (“We can’t see! Get out of the way. Besides, you’ll ruin your eyes!) I knew when I saw that beautiful, but odd, looking thing take off that I couldn’t abandon my lifelong dream. (“Ms. Lindley? We got your application and wanted to talk to you about a fellowship.” “Huh? Oh that…well…you see…it was a mistake. Must’ve, ah, sent it to the wrong school. You’re the school of nuclear physics??” “Yes, Dr. Williams said he talked to you when he visited your university.” Gulp…he remembered me!) Fortunately Dr. Williams was very nice about it all and completely understood. Especially about a lifelong dream.
So, when I graduated from college not long after that experience, the only place where I applied for a job was with NASA. Nowhere else. And I sat and waited. “What? A hiring freeze?? Okay…” Sigh… Now what? But just a couple weeks later, fate stepped in as it had to (it was meant to be!) and I was offered a co-op position. Not that ideal, dream job…but it was a job with NASA! “Sure, you bet!” All I had to do was…apply to graduate school…but the “right” way this time.
And fate is a funny thing. (It was meant to be!) Before I could get that process finished, I got another call from NASA. This time a real job. A full time position as an aerospace engineer. Was I interested? Was I interested?? I nearly bit my tongue off to not laugh into the mouthpiece. WAS I INTERESTED?? That was like asking if I needed air to breath.
That was in September, 1981, not very long before STS-2. And after twenty-six and a half years (but who’s counting?), here I still am. Still working happily away at NASA. Over twenty-two years working on the Space Shuttle Main Engines and now working on the Ares vehicle.
In 2008 NASA will be 50 years old and so will I. No, it doesn’t hurt to say it. I was born into the space age. I was born when NASA was. It was meant to be. Happy birthday to NASA and to everything the agency and its people have accomplished. There will be an extra candle on my cake for you…perhaps one that looks like a rocket. (“It’s not rocket science!” “It’s not? Then I can’t do it; I am a rocket scientist!”)
1 comment:
I really enjoyed reading this post!! Maybe you should write some non-fiction.... an autobigraphy like this.... with the NASA parallels..... because it's awesome reading about you holding on to your dreams, making them realities.... such a success story!!! Both of you!
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