Category Archives: From Our Collections

Stories about content found within ASC; more person or item-specific than other categories.

All the Best and 73s!: A Record of Amateur Radio Aboard STS-45 Preserved within the David C. Leestma Papers

STS-45 QSO Card

This is the QSL card that NASA sent out to HAM radio operators who made a contact with the Space Shuttle Atlantis.

Astronauts aboard the International Space Station (ISS) today perform a number of objectives ranging from scientific experiments, station maintenance, to studies on the physiology of the human body in micro-gravity environments.  With a rigorous schedule of experiments, little time each day is reserved for recreation. That said, recently the astronauts aboard the ISS viewed the newly released science fiction film, The Martian.  This widely publicized event may not seem as bewildering as one would think as lately, astronauts on the ISS have been able to stay in constant contact with the public on Earth via social media.  Astronaut Scott Kelly recently completed a year-long mission aboard the ISS as part of a study of the effects of long duration space flight on the human body.  He regularly used Twitter.com to post images and updates to his more than 869,000 (Twitter) followers. Perhaps the first to garner the social media public’s attention was Canadian Astronaut Chris Hadfield who made headlines in 2013 when he posted pictures to his Twitter page and uploaded videos to the Canadian Space Agency’s YouTube Channel, documenting the day-to-day routine of the astronauts (YouTube).  Public involvement and participation was enormous during this time, with Hadfield alone getting over millions of views on his posts, especially with his YouTube video covering David Bowie’s hit song, “Space Oddity,” while floating in the ISS.  This video alone had six million views within days of its upload and now has over thirty million views (YouTube).  The social media public is now actively involved with astronauts. Yet, the rather direct public interaction and exchanges with spacefarers 155 miles above the Earth is not really new.  In fact, direct public interaction with astronauts took place years prior to the existence of Twitter and YouTube.  People communicated with astronauts during space flights through the use of Amateur Radio.

HAM Radio QSO Card

This QSL card comes from Indiana and features the Space Shuttle. 4/1/1992

Amateur Radio, or HAM radio is a way for people with proper training to legally operate powerful radios to communicate with other operators.  The term HAM is not an acronym, but instead it is a derogatory term that commercial radio operators gave to amateurs in the early 20th century when they were frustrated with amateur radio operators clogging the airwaves.  A HAM radio is different than a typical AM/FM radio because HAM radios allow for two-way communication either through voice or Morse code.  Amateur Radio operators, colloquially referred to as HAMs, use their radios to speak to people all over the world through different radio frequencies.  The different frequencies allow for varying lengths of physical distance between radios.  A 2-meter frequency is best for talking around town while a 10-meter frequency is best for long distances.  This changes, however, if you increase the power of the radio.  A standard hand-held HAM radio operates around one to five watts power.  Increase the power to fifty watts, and the signal will travel much further.  The same radio frequencies used by HAM radio operators to talk to one another locally and around the globe were even used by NASA to stay in contact with astronauts in their spacecraft and on the surface of the Moon.

HAM Radio Operator and his cat.

Here is an example of a QSL card. Pictured is a HAM radio operator and his radio shack, along with his feline friend. 4/1/1992

After a two-way communication is made, called a QSO, both HAM radio operators will send each other a QSL card. The term QSL and QSO are not an acronyms, as they are taken from early maritime Morse code communications that used a system of “Q” codes to convey long messages.  These “Q” codes were three characters long starting with the letter Q.  “Q” codes are no longer used, but the QSL and QSO codes have found a place within amateur radio as a way to describe a two-way communication.  A QSL card, similar to a postcard, is a fun way to physically represent the contacts that a HAM has communicated with.  Amateur radio operators’ call signs are also not acronyms.  These are assigned to the operator after they pass a licensing test given by the Federal Communications Commission (FCC).  Printed on the card is usually the operator’s call sign, the Coordinated Universal Time (UTC) of the communication, information about the radio used, their geographical location, and sometimes a picture of the operator sitting in front of their ‘radio shack,’ (their HAM radio setup).  The reverse side of the card is where one would find the technical details of the contact, such as the operator’s name, their address, a short message, type of radio, antenna, or other radio specifications.  HAMs even use unique language when talking to one another.  For example, saying, “73” is a friendly way to say goodbye and if a HAM says they are “workin’ DX” that means they are using their radios for worldwide contact.  These two colloquialisms emerged from Morse code, and similar to the “Q” codes, have stuck with HAM radio.  (Click here for a link to a glossary of HAM radio terms.)        

Husband and Wife HAM radio operators

This QSL card shows two call signs that of a husband and wife team from Alaska. 3/30/1992

Husband and Wife HAM radio operators

This is the reverse of the QSL card from Alaska. 3/30/1992

During NASA’s Space Shuttle program, astronauts used the Shuttle Amateur Radio Experiment (SAREX) to communicate with amateur radio operators on Earth.  These contacts were short conversations usually just long enough to hear each other’s call sign.  In most cases, the operator on the ground would only hear the Shuttle and not be able to communicate with it. The length of these conversations depended on many different things, such as radio properties, geographical location, and the Shuttle’s location in relation to the radio operator on Earth.  The purpose of SAREX was to engage the public in space flight.  NASA created the program so that students, children, and the general public could have the chance to talk with the astronauts without an intermediary.  For more information on SAREX, click here.

STS-45 Crew

Crew of STS-45. (L-R Back Row: Byron K. Lichtenberg, Michael Foale, David C. Leestma, Kathryn D. Sullivan, Dirk Frimout. Front Row: Brian Duffy, Charles F. Bolden, Jr.) 6/11/1992 (Courtesy of NASA)

HAM radios flew on twenty-five Space Shuttle missions total, from 1983 until 1999.  In 1992, four of the seven astronauts on STS-45 Atlantis were licensed HAMs. Kathy Sullivan (N5YVV), Brian Duffy (N5WQW), Dirk Frimout (ON1AFD), and David Leestma (N5WQC) operated the Space Shuttle radio and made roughly 1,804 contacts with people from thirty-one different countries, including three contacts from Antarctica.  David Leestma recalls, “I just had a QSO with a K1OIQ on Palmer’s Station Andrew’s Island, Antarctica…That was really a thrill to be able to get Antarctic[a] on the radio,” (David C. Leestma papers, Box 27, Folder 4).  Leestma used the term QSO, which is another “Q” code for a two-way communication.  The majority of these contacts, 1,067, were made with HAMs in the United States.  The country to make the second-most contacts was Belgium with 314 QSL cards, as STS-45 Atlantis was the first time a Belgian citizen, astronaut Dirk Frimout, was launched into space.

QSL Card from Palmer Station, Antarctica

This is the only QSL card to come from Antarctica. 3/30/1992

HAM Radio QSO Card from Belgium

This is one of the 314 QSL cards that came from Belgium during STS-45. 3/29/1992

HAM radio QSO card

This card comes from California and features an operator and his shack. 3/29/1992

Below you will find two graphs, one detailing all of the QSL cards received by state and one detailing all of the QSL cards received by country, as well as an interactive world map with pin points located where a QSL card was sent to by the crew of STS-45 Atlantis.

Click on the map below to see if anyone from your hometown made contact with the Space Shuttle!

United States QSL Cards Graph

This graph shows the number of QSL cards received from each state.

International QSL Cards

This graph shows the number of QSL cards received by country.

QSO Card Map

Click on this image to view an interactive map of the QSL cards!

All of the QSL cards pictured here come from the David C. Leestma Papers.  This collection contains the personal papers of Astronaut David C. Leestma from his time as a pilot in the Navy, a Space Shuttle astronaut, and his work in NASA’s administration offices during the Mir and ISS programs.  Also, included in this collection are Leestma’s personal journals from 1981 to 2014.  While Leestma’s papers offers some great insight into the daily workings of an astronaut and a NASA administrator, his collection of QSL cards are eye-catching.  The cards offer a unique, visual look into the HAM radio tradition.  They also show a segment of national and international enthusiasm that existed for the space program during the 1990s.  HAM radio allowed for astronauts to be accessible to the entire world.  From Alaska to Antarctica, and thirty other countries in between, HAM radio allowed for public participation in the space program long before astronaut Chris Hadfield released his music video from space on YouTube in 2013.

References:

  1. http://spaceflight.nasa.gov/station/reference/radio/sarex.html
  2. http://www.arrl.org/what-is-ham-radio
  3. http://www.arrl.org/eavesdropping-on-apollo-11
  4. http://www.arrl.org/ham-radio-glossary
  5. http://www.arrl.org/ham-radio-history
  6. http://spaceflight.nasa.gov/station/reference/radio/sarex.html

Editor’s Note: Co-author Max Campbell is a second-year graduate student in the Purdue University Department of History. Co-author Hannah Vaughn is a senior at Purdue, majoring in History.

The Purdue University Buildings Project, Part I: Beginning the Research Process, Challenges, and Unfolding Histories

In April 2015, I began working as a graduate student archival assistant on the Purdue Buildings Project. The project, a comprehensive research endeavor of the entire structural history of the West Lafayette campus, is funded by Richard Funkhouser, a former Purdue University Libraries faculty member for over 44 years. As Funkhouser states, “As a librarian and researcher, I understood the importance of documenting campus buildings, interiors as well as exteriors, before that information disappears.” Additionally, information regarding the Purdue University campus buildings is one of the top inquiries received by the Libraries’ Division of Archives and Special Collections. For many years, Archives faculty, namely David Hovde, have been compiling data on the structures of Purdue. Now, thanks to Mr. Funkhouser, a team of staff and students is working to create a robust online resource for the campus and beyond.

1890 Purdue West Lafayette campus map

1890 Purdue West Lafayette campus map

Once complete, the colloquially-named Buildings Project will include a detailed description of every building that has ever been at Purdue. This content will be available for interested parties via an interactive website containing georeferenced maps, photos, and historical information. Indeed, once the information is online, researchers not only at Purdue but around the world will be able to directly access historical documents and data concerning the growth of one of the preeminent research universities in the U.S., thus increasing the depth and scope of scholarly communication at Purdue University and beyond.

Until the formalization of the university archives in 2009, research into the history of the Purdue West Lafayette campus has been decentralized and quite challenging. Even now, researching campus history remains an exercise in patience. In the first months on the project, I engaged in trial and error as I looked for a way to gather information in a way that seemed the least time consuming. Over time, my plan has morphed to gather materials by decades instead of finding one building at a time. Early Purdue building financing, construction, renovation, and use data is often not documented until years after the building was in use. In one example, a building built in 1905 had little to no information recorded in university records until noted in the 1915 Annual Register.

Purdue ladies in colonial costumes on stage of Ladies Hall

Purdue ladies in colonial costumes on stage of Ladies Hall

Other challenges include inconsistent or erroneous source materials; in some cases, building names and usage descriptions differ depending on the source. Nevertheless, through documentation and analysis of the data, I have been able to ascertain probable, if not certain, data about most structures. And the research continues. Indeed, I suspect the discovery of information in this manner will continue during the life of the project.

Personally, so far this project has been very insightful and fun to research. As a graduate student I actually don’t engage with the university history as much as I would have as an undergraduate taking the various school tours or courses across the breadth of campus. However, this project has allowed me to learn Purdue history and explore the campus in new ways. I have found it enriching to learn about old customs at the university and to learn what features were once a part of the campus and what features remain decades after their construction.

Purdue Hall, circa 1911

Purdue Hall, circa 1911

Over the course of the year I have been working I have learned a great deal about the beginning of the University and some of the issues with the first buildings. For instance, the Men’s Dormitory, built in 1872, was first created without chimneys, leading to heating issues. It was also interesting to learn about the Ladies Hall, built in 1874, where women were required to be chaperoned by a female faculty member. Furthermore, researching buildings leads one to learn a great deal about past campus culture, programs, and attitudes. Of note, Purdue in its early years was very concerned about the integrity of the agricultural program and, as a land grant institution founded to promote the mechanical arts, was hesitant to place emphasis on the humanities as a program of study.

Ladies Hall, 1929

Ladies Hall, 1929

One of the most interesting facts concerning the history of university buildings surrounds World War I. The book Purdue University: Fifty Years of Progress states that under the terms of its contract with the War Department, the University agreed to house, subsist, and train 1,500 men in Section A near the end of the war. The Government pledged itself to one dollar per man per day for housing and subsistence, and twelve cents for tuition. Buildings put into use for men in training included living quarters and sheds for equipment. Fraternity houses also took in family members, mostly wives, until they could find a more permanent living situation. At the fraternity homes dances and other social affairs were often given for the soldiers.

Military barracks on campus

R.O.T.C. and Military barracks during World War I

Each day on this project brings its own challenges, yet the team at the archives has been able to research, compare, and combine multiple sources to ensure a detailed description of the buildings. To date I have identified approximately 100 buildings, dating up to 1935. In the coming months and years, Purdue Archives and Special Collection will continue to document the buildings history of Purdue. As Purdue is always growing and changing, so too will this project.

 

Editor’s Note: Margaret Sheble, a Medieval Literature graduate student within the Department of English, has been a graduate assistant in Archives and Special Collections for nearly two years.

The Purdue Seal: Symbol and Synergy…

The Purdue University seal has evolved over the years, and upon close observation, the history of the University is reflected in this evolution. The first Purdue University seal was designed by Bruce Rogers in 1890, and there have been nine significant changes over the years. The present three part shield, designed by Al Gowan in 1968, reflects Purdue’s three permanent aims of the university: education, research, and service.

In today’s information age, people are constantly bombarded with many visual images and messages. The seal provides a strong visual identity that is recognized instantly and positively by key audiences around the world. Many alumni take pride in Purdue’s seal, and instant memories and emotions are evoked when the seal is seen on various documents and memorabilia.

Today the official university seal is used only for formal and official communications such as diplomas, letters of acceptance and communication from the Board of Trustees and the University president.

The following provides a look at how the seal evolved and those who took part in its design.

Seal 1

The First Purdue Seal

1890, First Design
Bruce Rogers designed the first Purdue seal for the cover of the Annual Register of 1890-91. Rogers was a Purdue undergraduate student at the time. His design emphasized the curriculum offered at the University. His inexperience is evident by the fact that the design was unsuitable for the letterpress printing process of the day. The design was never officially adopted by the University.

Seal 2

The Second Purdue Seal

 

 

 1894, Second Design
Bruce Rogers also drew the second Purdue seal, which first appeared on the cover of the Exponent’s October 1 issue of 1894. This design remained loyal to the original concept but was better suited for reproduction. However, he added a caduceus to represent the new School of Pharmacy, which created a problem of too many symbols. By this time Rogers had graduated from Purdue, and in 1895 he moved to Boston.

 

Third Purdue Seal

1895, Third Design, Introduction of the Griffin           Abby Phelps Lytle was asked by the University administration to design the third seal while head of the art department at Purdue. She introduced the slanted shield, Uncial lettering and the winged griffin. This design was used for nearly fifteen years. The intricate design, though aesthetically pleasing, was difficult to clearly reproduce.

 

1905, Fourth Design  This fourth design was probably a study attempted by some engineering students. It is actually a bronze casting and is not suitable for reproduction. The image printed here is a graphic rendering of the three-dimensional piece. The image appears on the cover of a photo album of campus buildings from around that time period. It may have been a stimulus for the Benjamin design which came a few years later.

Fourth Purdue Seal Design

Fourth Purdue Seal Design

Fifth Purdue Seal

Fifth Purdue Seal

 

1909, Fifth design
Charles H. Benjamin, Dean of Engineering, designed the fifth Purdue seal. This design first appeared in the Purdue University Catalogue of 1909-10. The University wanted the Lytle design simplified and selected Benjamin, who was considered to be an artist as well as an engineer, to do the job. He worked from a sketch by Mrs. Marion Woodbury, the daughter of the Dean. The shield was reduced in size and the symbols reduced to three. The griffin now held a Roman lamp of learning. The design was used for the next sixty years.

 

1924, Sixth Seal Design

1924, Sixth Seal Design

1924, A Variation
This variation, the sixth design, appeared in the Semi-Centennial Alumni Record of 1924. It was probably intended to present a more printable piece, which it does. The variation separates the griffin, the shield, and the banner from their positions on the Benjamin version. In doing so, the continuity of the images is lost. This design has appeared in Memorial Union publications from time to time. The designer is unknown.

 

 

Seventh Seal Design

Seventh Seal Design

1947, Seventh design
The seventh design was by Bruce Rogers. His suggestion for this design to the new university president, Fredrick L. Hovde, was never considered. Though Rogers’ seal designs did not meet with approval, his career was internationally distinguished by his work in type and book design. Many of his original works can be found in Archives and Special Collections at Purdue.

Eighth Purdue Seal Design

Eighth Purdue Seal Design

1947, Eighth Design
The eighth design, commissioned by Robert W. Babcock, was an attempt to simplify the Rogers design. Babcock was the editor of Campus Copy, a university publication. He printed the commissioned work along with the Rogers and Benjamin designs in the March 1947 issue of the Campus Copy to elicit faculty opinion. In the end the University continued using the Benjamin seal.

 

1968, Current Design

1968 Design

 

1968, Ninth & Current Design
Al Gowan was an Assistant Professor of the then new School of Creative Arts when he received a grant to develop a new University seal. His research resulted in a more stylized design. He redefined the seal’s concept, yet maintained a faithfulness to the calligraphic style of the Lytle seal of 1895. Rather than defining the curriculum, which is subject to change, Gowan felt the seal should represent the three permanent aims of the university: education, research, and service.

References:

MSP 119, Collection on the Purdue University seal, Karnes Archives and Special Collections, Purdue University Libraries

MSF 474, Albert J. Gowan papers, Karnes Archives and Special Collections, Purdue University Libraries

Horoho, M. (1993). Purdue Crest: a visual history. Valparaiso, IN: Sandlin’s Books & Bindery

Taming Electricity: A Purdue Student’s Career in Electromagnetic Compatibility

Electricity, or the flow of electric charge, is arguably the most important invention behind the spectacular advancement in technology witnessed over the last century. It has truly revolutionized our lives on planet Earth, and the way we explore other worlds in the universe. Today, as we sit in our comfortable climate-controlled buildings talking to people on the other side of the globe, we take electricity for granted. We also tend to overlook the hard work of countless engineers and scientists for harnessing the power of electricity. Donald Heirman is one such electrical engineer who worked on some fundamental problems in electrical circuits.

The EMC "can of worms"

The EMC “can of worms”

One interesting problem faced by engineers early on was the relationship between electricity and magnetism: they are intertwined, each is a by-product of the other. When an electrical circuit is powered up, it produces a magnetic field. This can create “disturbance” in a nearby (or even in the same) circuit, and cause performance degradation. If this seems too technical, recall experiencing cross-talk on a 90’s landline telephone, or static noise-lines on a TV. The phenomenon is known as Electromagnetic Interference (EMI), and becomes of greater concern as electronic devices shrink in size. Lots of electrical components are in close proximity of each other, and hence prone to electromagnetic interference.

Mr. Heirman working in a "noise-free" environment c.1979

Mr. Heirman working in a “noise-free” environment c.1979

“Taming” electricity is hard work but vital for the smooth functioning of our modern lives. That is exactly what Donald Heirman dealt with during his career at AT&T spanning more than three decades. Having graduated with BS (1962) and MS (1963) degrees in EE from Purdue, Mr. Heirman joined AT&T Bell Labs as a young electrical engineer. Over the years, he worked on some of the most important and exciting projects at AT&T including the development of an Open Area Test Site facility, and a Transverse Electromagnetic (TEM) cell for the Electromagnetic Compatibility (EMC) analysis of devices. His work focused on electromagnetic interference testing and compliance, and stretched to a range of systems including computer processors, early telephone systems, antennae, road vehicles, and medical devices. Mr. Heirman was also the founding manager of Lucent Technologies (Bell Labs) Global Product Compliance Laboratory. In this role, he was in charge of the company’s major EMC and regulatory test facility, and its participation in national and international EMC standardization committees.

Mr. Heirman started his EMC career at a time when there were few legal limits on EM emissions from electronic devices (the FCC did not have EMC standards for electronic devices until 1979). His passion led him to join (and later lead) international efforts towards EMC standardization. He continues to work with all major national and international standards organizations including ANSI, IEEE and IEC. His many contributions to global electro-technical standardization in the field of EMC have been acknowledged in the form of some of the highest awards in the area.

Click to see the Bicycle Water Race c.1961

Click to see the Bicycle Water Race c.1961

Mr. Heirman’s papers (http://collections.lib.purdue.edu/heirman/) provide a fascinating peek into the life and career of an EMC engineer. In addition, the papers offer an unparalleled insight into the history and evolution of EMC standards. The collection also includes some of Mr. Heirman’s amateur videos showcasing life at Purdue University during the early 1960’s. These videos are a rare glimpse of some of the events (sports at Purdue, the Purdue grand prix, ground breaking of the Purdue Airport, and the 1961 visit of President Eisenhower), and traditions (pie throwing, Iron Key, bicycle water race) at Purdue University. The video clip on the right shows just one such tradition (now forgotten): the bicycle water race.

Mr. Heirman currently runs a training and consulting business by the name of Don HEIRMAN Consultants. He continues to be a key player and educator in the field of EMC. His papers are part of the Donald N. Heirman Collection in the Virginia Kelly Karnes Archives and Special Collections Research Center at Purdue Libraries. The collection is open for research.

Space Exploration For All: The Eugene A. Cernan Papers

The Barron Hilton Flight and Space Exploration Archives within Purdue Archives and Special Collections contains collections from many distinguished astronauts. Neil Armstrong, David Leestma, Jerry Ross, and Janice Voss have all left their mark on Purdue and humankind. Yet the Eugene A. Cernan papers cast a long shadow of their own. Comprised of 74 boxes organized into 11 series, the collection houses materials which span Cernan’s entire life, from his birth certificate to a letter written to his fellow Boilermakers just last year. It’s enough to keep anyone busy. I would know—I helped to organize it for almost a year.

What exactly is in all those boxes? Some items are simply cool to behold, like the mapbook of the lunar surface[1] and one of Cernan’s spacesuit gloves, worn during Apollo 17 and still covered in grey-like moon dust.  If you’re looking for the kinds of technical minutia that will help you build your own lunar module, you might be disappointed. Sure, there are reports for several Apollo missions, as well as a transcript of Cernan’s log from Gemini 9.  The real value of Cernan’s collection is how it brings NASA’s iconic programs back to Earth. It brings space exploration closer to us, without all that expensive rocket fuel, by provoking questions about who an astronaut like Eugene Cernan really was.

Gene Cernan, front row and center, was a member of Purdue Fijis while a student at Purdue

Gene Cernan, front row and center, was a member of Purdue Fijis while a student at Purdue

Astronauts were not born in their spacesuits, so how did they grow to fit one so nicely? Cernan played sports throughout his youth and engaged actively in the communities at Proviso East High School in Maywood, Illinois and at Purdue University. Between athletics, the Naval ROTC, joining the Purdue chapter of Phi Gamma Delta, and editing two yearbooks, Cernan must have hardly had a moment to himself throughout his education. He even majored in Electrical Engineering, whose students today only have time to sleep while their code compiles. Cernan later got a Masters in Aerospace Engineering from the US Naval Postgraduate School while also serving in the Navy. Cernan’s ascent, it seems, started long before he climbed aboard a rocket, or even joined NASA. It took drive and effort and recognition, but also choice. I’m no scientist, but launching into space appears to involve momentum.

Cernan was a pilot in the United State Navy before joining NASA

Cernan was a pilot in the United State Navy before joining NASA

Eugene Cernan is human, but when did he become superhuman? Newspaper records abound in the collection and honed in on every last detail of Cernan, his family, his colleagues in spacesuits, and the missions he participated in. As much as it mattered to the nation what exactly his missions would accomplish, it mattered how Cernan trained and what he ate for breakfast. It mattered how his wife, Barbara Cernan, felt about her husband’s chances. It mattered whether his daughter, Tracy Cernan, was worried or excited about her father’s mission. It definitely mattered when Cernan broadcast expletives to the entire nation because ‘Snoopy,’ the lunar module, rolled unexpectedly above the moon during Apollo 10. And it mattered not only that Cernan and his colleagues landed safely after each mission, but also how they subsequently engaged with the nation through interviews and tours. The Space Race was won beyond Earth’s atmosphere by a relative few, but it’s impossible to imagine everyday Americans as mere spectators. NASA’s space exploration programs were cultural as well as scientific or political endeavors, and culture only takes on meaning when it is shared among people.

What (conceptual) space in terrestrial American society do astronauts play? Astronauts were and are icons, and the Cernan collection shows it. Telegram after telegram, letter after letter from celebrities, politicians, and business leaders. No fewer than seven sitting presidents corresponded with Cernan to varying degrees. Photos join the correspondence and show Cernan meeting some of those presidents, playing in charity golf tournaments with Bob Hope and Jimmy Demaret, showing NASA facilities to Barbara Eden, taking part in international tours, carrying the Olympic torch, and waving with Neil Armstrong at Ross-Ade’s fifty yard line at a Purdue football game. Astronauts have long been seen as a representation of the best of humanity.  They helped the nation better understand its own potential. The Eugene Cernan papers shows this process was personal, not ethereal.

Earth rise. NASA image, from the Eugene Cernan papers

Earth rise. NASA image, from the Eugene Cernan papers

How do astronauts make meaning of their experiences? A central piece of the Cernan papers records the research and writing process of Cernan’s autobiography, The Last Man on the Moon. Cernan didn’t write the book based on memory alone, but rather reconstructed and reflected upon his experiences using hundreds of personal records which Purdue now houses. For feedback, he called upon the vast array of friends and acquaintances gathered over a lifetime of accomplishment. Their support was later joined by scores of fan letters. In crafting his reflections, Cernan grounded his individual experiences firmly in the broader machinations of society, situating himself as a person who became an astronaut who became a celebrity.

Smarter researchers than me will find the answers to these questions flowing incorporeally through the many pages and artifacts of Cernan’s collection. Which brings us to the heart of the matter: not what the collection offers, but why it exists at all.

During a visit to Purdue’s main campus last year, Cernan observed what’s become of his papers when the Cernan and Armstrong collections were opened for research.[2] I imagine (and I stress the word ‘imagine’ here) that when just about everyone else in the room is clamoring to speak to you, it’s difficult form a cogent thought let alone have a moment of genuine reflection. But the revered Purdue alumnus did reflect, and he had a lot to say. One thing in particular stuck with me: the Cernan papers are here within Purdue Archives and Special Collections to be viewed. This collection could have ended up in the Smithsonian. But it didn’t. Instead Cernan’s papers made their final touch down about a thousand feet from Harry’s Chocolate Shop.

Chicago Tribune editorial 'Astronauts are only human'. From the Eugene A. Cernan papers

Chicago Tribune editorial ‘Astronauts are only human’. From the Eugene A. Cernan papers

Captain Cernan donated to people: to thinkers, to doers, to Boilermakers. Everything from the dusty glove to his boyhood scrapbook is here to help us better understand Cernan’s life and by extension humanity’s first (and last—er, most recent) steps on the moon. If this collection makes anything clear, it’s that those steps were a shared experience on individual and deeply touching levels.

You’ll see it in the fan mail from a young woman pursuing a career in space exploration.

In Cernan’s letter to his mother, written before he knew whether he’d make it back to Earth.

In the newspaper photo showing a young Tracy Cernan pretending to radio her spacewalking father.

In Cernan’s scribbled personal notes, organizing his thoughts before drafting The Last Man on the Moon.

“In the Apollo 17 crew’s dinner menu right after splashdown. “Mare Imbrium Papaya,” for the record, sounds delicious.”

And in the photographed eyes of a young man applying for the NROTC in 1952, not yet aware of the adventures ahead of him.

The Eugene A. Cernan papers promise no more or less than any archival collection: to provide a slice of insight into the shared experiences that shape human lives. But it’s the promise that’s special—the promise of personal enlightenment through the embrace of our collective past. Eugene Cernan has opened the record of his past with this notion in mind, and it’s closer than you might think.

Editor’s Note: Essayist Brian Alberts is a graduate student within the Purdue University Department of History. He served as a graduate research assistant within Archives and Special Collections and was part of the team that processed the Eugene A. Cernan papers.

Reflections on Boiler Pride…

Editor’s Note: Writer Mary Sego is an archival assistant and processing specialist within Archives and Special Collections.

As a Purdue alum and thirty-one year Purdue employee, I always reflect upon Purdue as a new semester begins. I remember back as this Hoosier farm girl took her first steps onto a large campus with hopes and dreams waiting to be fulfilled. I followed in the footsteps of 4 older siblings, and 1 younger followed me. This meant 48 move-in trips for my parents and 16 continuous years of having at least one student on campus, sometimes two or three. I am now seeing the hopes and dreams being realized for the next generation, as now two younger relatives have chosen Purdue for their college educations.

Working in the Virginia Kelly Karnes Archives and Special Collections Research Center has been an incredible opportunity. I have had the honor and pleasure to have processed 123 collections, including the Neil A. Armstrong papers, along with nearly 700 faculty and alumni folders. I have seen alumni, researchers, faculty and staff, along with the general public come into the Archives, and beam with pride and fascination. I have gone through boxes of unprocessed collections packed by donors that love their alma mater, and only want the best for the generations of Boilermakers that follow in their footsteps. Many feel it is their obligation to give back to the University and their fellow Boilermakers, because they feel Purdue gave so much to them.

Mark Brown on STS-28, August 1989

Mark Brown on STS-28, August 1989

 

 

Many of the alumni astronauts have given their collections to Purdue, in hopes that those that follow can learn from the many, many treasures found in their collections.  Indeed, several have taken Purdue memorabilia into space with them, and shared their Purdue pride among the stars. They are truly loyal and dedicated alumni!

 

Orville Redenbacher, 1928 grad in his Purdue Band uniform

Orville Redenbacher, 1928 grad in his Purdue Band uniform

 

Other faculty, staff and alumni have also given their papers and collections to Purdue. The names Amelia Earhart, George Ade, John T. McCutcheon, Frank and Lillian Gilbreth, and Orville Redenbacher are known to the world. Former Purdue presidents, and many other faculty, staff and alums also have their papers in Archives and Special Collections. Their contributions, and therefore their collections, are treated with equal care and respect as any other.

 

 

Ralph S. Johnson, circa 1935

Ralph S. Johnson, circa 1935

 

Some of the alumni and faculty may not be as well known, but are important none the less.  One such person is Ralph S. Johnson who worked his way through Purdue as a Memorial Union food service worker.  He graduated from Purdue in 1930 with a Bachelor of Science degree in Aeronautical and Mechanical Engineering and went on to become the chief pilot for United Airlines in 1935. During the early years of WWII, he was responsible for developing and testing a myriad of programs aimed toward air safety. He was awarded a Purdue honorary Doctorate of Engineering in 2008.

Also found in the Purdue Archives are the papers of Charles A. Ellis, educator, structural engineer, and mathematician who joined the Purdue faculty in 1934. Ellis was an expert in bridge design, co-designing the Montreal Harbor Bridge and almost single-handedly designing the structure of the famed Golden Gate Bridge.

Pamphlet from the Purdue University School of Medicine collection

Pamphlet from the Purdue University School of Medicine collection

Few realize that the founder of Arnett Clinic in Lafayette, Dr. Arett C. Arnett, graduated from the Purdue University Medical School. In May, 1906, one hundred and twenty-two students received their diplomas from Purdue University and successfully passed the examination of the State Board of Medical Registration.

In the spring of 1907, Purdue graduated sixty-eight men and four women. In that class was Arett C. Arnett who helped establish a Lafayette clinic in 1922, later known as Arnett Clinic. One can find memorabilia from this class in the Purdue University School of Medicine collection.

Another collection, the John Y. D. Tse papers, comprise a compilation of ten poems and memoirs written by Tse as reflections upon forty years as a management professor, founder of the Krannert Graduate School of Business, entrepreneur, and benefactor to Purdue University. Within the volume are also photographs, reprints of letters written to Dr. Tse by colleagues, an address written by Tse for the 25th anniversary of the Krannert School of Management, and reprints of newspaper clippings and articles about and by Dr. Tse

Many wonderful scrapbooks have been donated to the Purdue Archives, all containing numerous personal items and anecdotes.  One example is the Simeon V. B. Miller scrapbook (1900-1906), which contains memorabilia from Simeon Van Buren Miller’s college career at Purdue University. Involved in the train wreck of 1903, Miller compiled numerous newspaper clippings from the wreck. Simeon Miller followed in the footsteps of his father and two brothers as a member of Phi Delta Theta, and therefore his scrapbook contains a concentration of ephemera from the fraternity.  He was president of the Class of 1905 during his sophomore year, and so the scrapbook also contains items from his tenure as class president. Other miscellaneous items, such as fee statements, dance cards, items from the athletic association and athletic events, score cards and fee statements, newspaper clippings on the tank scrap, and numerous other programs are also included. One can certainly learn a great deal about a person and Purdue from a single scrapbook!

This is just a small sampling of the items that can be found in the Virginia Kelly Karnes Archive and Special Collections. We are here to help you and welcome a visit! You can learn more about Purdue and those that have walked the campus. Feel free to just stop by and say hello!

Our wish for you this semester is to reach for the stars, explore and enjoy your time at Purdue! We hope one day you will consider donating your papers to the Purdue Archives, and helping your fellow Boilermakers for generations to come!

Clipping from the Jerry L. Ross papers

Clipping from the Jerry L. Ross papers

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Tragic Telegram and a Goofy Movie

Last year, near the anniversary of Amelia Earhart’s disappearance, I started digging. It was a momentous occasion–Earhart is one of the more famous historical figures who spent time at Purdue and whose life is documented in our collections. I was searching our databases, looking for some materials from around the time of Earhart’s round-the-world flight. Often if I find something interesting, I will share it with our followers on Twitter. As I scanned the list of search results, I came across this:

earharttelegram2

I wasn’t prepared for it. The telegram, sent from George Putnam, Earhart’s husband, responding to his son, David Binney Putnam, was sent shortly after contact was lost with Earhart’s plane. It reads: “THANKS DEAR BOY IT HELPS THERES PLENTY OF HOPE YET LOVE DAD.”

When I read it, I felt a sense of dread sinking into me. Knowing that Amelia was not coming back–ever–made George’s hopes all the more tragic. But reading this note, with its short, desperate prose, and knowing that it was just a family thing in that moment, between father and son and an absent stepmother, gave the document a sacred quality. I shouldn’t be reading this. I wasn’t meant to read this. But why feel this way? It’s history. It’s public.

History is often interesting to read about from a distance. We can reflect on how day-to-day life has changed since a famous person’s time, such as Earhart’s heyday of the 1920s-30s. We can joke around about silly fashion and customs from the past. The past is removed from us; we don’t have access to it, so it feels foreign and alien and often quite backwards. We cannot understand why, for example, Purdue students used to race around Memorial Mall on tricycles while people threw buckets of water at them. It makes no sense.

But some things make too much sense. And its in those moments of discovery, when history recorded in writing or film becomes less distant. It comes closer to our own experience as people and becomes less alien. It’s someone we know. It’s how we feel now. For all its strangeness, the tricycle water-bucket race does appeal to a certain sense of goofy fun. The people in the film look like they’re having a good time–and why not? They’re racing around a circle or throwing buckets of water on people. It’s not just hilarious because it’s strange; it’s hilarious because it looks like it might be fun to do.

George’s letter to David about Amelia made sense. The hope still hanging over both of them, the hope that she might show up, somewhere, adrift in the sea, or stranded on an island–a little worse for wear, but still smiling–that hope made more sense than anything. If you’ve ever lost someone, you know about hope. And you might have also felt that same sense of sinking dread I did when you read the telegram, knowing she didn’t come back. That the hope was disappointed. And in that moment, Amelia Earhart wasn’t just a famous missing person. Not just a feminist role model. She was more than her ideals or legend. She was someone like you or me.

ameliahaircut

And we lost her.

This year marks the 78th anniversary of Earhart’s final flight.  For me, that short telegram reveals so much of the power of history and the importance of preservation. History research does more than just generate academic knowledge and understanding–all of which is important, good, and necessary for our society. It is notes like George’s that tell us what history can be: a moment of human connection transcending time.

The telegram can be viewed online with other materials from the time of the initial search for Earhart’s plane.  These materials are within the full George Putnam Palmer Collection of Amelia Earhart papers, as well as the Amelia Earhart at Purdue Collection, and can be viewed in Archives and Special Collections digital repository e-Archives.

Course Reflection: The Technology and Culture of Flight

The following is a guest blog post by Katie Martin, who recently graduated from Purdue University with a Bachelor of Arts degrees in History and American Studies.

As a senior History student, I had taken plenty of history classes. However, I have never experienced a class quite like HIST 395: Air and Space: The Technology and Culture of Flight. This junior research seminar was taught by Professor Michael Smith in collaboration with Tracy Grimm, the Barron Hilton Archivist for Flight and Space Exploration at Purdue Libraries Archives and Special Collections. To facilitate discussion and use of archival materials, the class met in Swaim Instruction Center, right across the hall from the Archives and Special Collections.

Amelia Earhart and George Palmer Putnam

Amelia Earhart and George Palmer Putnam

On the first day of class, we knew we were in for a different kind of history course. Professor Smith explained that by the end of the semester each student would complete a publishable 25-page paper using primary sources held in the Purdue collection. With Tracy’s great assistance, each student identified a topic and used class time to peruse Purdue’s physical and digital collections. I chose to focus my research on Amelia Earhart, specifically, how she and her publicist husband, George Palmer Putnam, worked together to craft her enduring public image.

I looked through several Amelia Earhart scrapbooks containing newspaper clippings relating to her lecture tours, her flights across the Atlantic, and her failed world flight attempt. I also read various correspondences between Earhart and people like Eleanor Roosevelt, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, and Edward C. Elliott, President of Purdue University during Earhart’s time on campus. I received permission to view the original materials.  Holding the physical materials in my hands provided a deep understanding of my topic and strong connection to the past. I also utilized the digitized Amelia Earhart Collection in Purdue e-Archives, which consists of more than 3,500 scans of photographs, maps, documents, and artifacts.

Daily Mirror newspaper clipping, June 19, 1928

Daily Mirror newspaper clipping, June 19, 1928

The research sessions were broken up by reading assignments and even field trips. During one memorable class period, we rode the Boilermaker Special to the Purdue Airport for a tour led by Dr. Thomas Carney, Professor of Aviation Technology. We also viewed and discussed the exhibit on display in the Archives at the time, Steps to the Moon: Selections from the Neil A. Armstrong Papers and the Eugene A. Cernan Papers. Most exciting of all, our class was invited to the opening of the Armstrong and Cernan papers on November 21. We heard Eugene Cernan and Carol Armstrong speak and even got the chance to shake their hands and discuss our experiences working with the collections.

The class picked up in intensity as we neared the end of the semester. In the final weeks, we were expected to submit a 5-page abstract to our classmates. One person per class presented their work for 30 minutes followed by a session of critique and discussion. Although this portion of the class was stressful, my fun and supportive classmates made the experience worthwhile. I completed my paper and am now in the process of publishing my work in a journal of popular culture. This class improved my research, writing, and presentation skills tremendously, provided opportunities to actively learn, and exposed me to persons and scholarship on an international scale.  I won’t soon forget working with the Amelia Earhart Collection and my experiences in this class!

This class is being taught again in the Fall of 2015 as HIST 495: Flight and Space Exploration: Archival Research Seminar.  Persons interested in the course are encouraged to speak with their advisor, Professor Michael Smith, or Tracy Grimm for more information.