Space and the stuff out there, always fascinated my nephew and me. It was one reason, even as young adults, we took a winter break during college and went to the Manned Spacecraft Center instead of the beach in Florida. As kids, our club for studying outer space was located, logically, in my parent's basement. Also in the basement were the books and magazines we collected about astronomy, and our feeble attempts to make a telescope. The best thing we did was write letters to planetariums and observatories and ask for free stuff. Amazingly, they sent us (free) glossy black and white, 8 x 10 inch photographs. We had dozens of such photos and taped them to the walls of the old fruit cellar we called our club house. But only three pictures have survived. They're below, unretouched. Honestly, I could tell the difference between a dust spot and a distant star. (All pictures:
Courtesy of Mount Wilson and Palomar Observatories, Pasadena, California.)
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| NGC 1275 |
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| NCG 4038 & 4039. (April, 1952) |
On the back of the photo abaove, in the upper left corner, in feminine handwriting is the name of my first girl-friend in high school (N.K.) I have no idea why her name is there. Did I ask her name and she had to spell it for me, so I handed her my picture of the stars? I must have been star-struck. She was a tall, beautiful blonde — a sweet, naive, but not shy girl—a dear soul. I think we had one date. It lasted 10 minutes max. it consisted of walking along the North side of Lutheran West High School after school (before our parents showed up to pick us up). We were holding hands. It was probably the first time I held a girl's hand. She told me two things that I'll never forget, and then Miss Finzel showed up. N.K. told me, in this order: (a) "My Dad told me I shouldn't eat too many bananas because hair would grow on my chest." (I tried to picture hair growing on this beautiful girl's chest. She had flawless skin. I didn't want to think about it...blocked it from my mind.) Then next came, (b) "I'm still out of breath from choir practice and my heart is still beating so hard. Here feel it." And with that she took my hand and placed it against her chest. And that's when (c) Miss Finzel, the stiff and strict speech teacher who was the self appointed enforcer against all displays of public affection, stuck her head through a classroom window and yelled at me, "MR. WILLIAMS! WHAT IS THE PROBLEM? DO YOU THINK SHE'S GOING TO RUN AWAY? STOP HOLDING HER HAND THIS MOMENT." And that was the end of my first date.
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Infrared image of the Sun from Mt. Wilson
where weeds but hair never grew. |
If you've read the book, there was this uncanny relationship between our Star, Moon and Planet Club and women's chests. I have no idea why or what that was about.
On the back of the photo abaove, in the upper left corner, in feminine handwriting is the name of my first girl-friend in high school (N.K.) I have no idea why her name is there. Did I ask her name and she had to spell it for me, so I handed her my picture of the stars? I must have been star-struck. She was a tall, beautiful blonde — a sweet, naive, but not shy girl—a dear soul. I think we had one date. It lasted 10 minutes max. it consisted of walking along the North side of Lutheran West High School after school (before our parents showed up to pick us up). We were holding hands. It was probably the first time I held a girl's hand. She told me two things that I'll never forget, and then Miss Finzel showed up. N.K. told me, in this order: (a) "My Dad told me I shouldn't eat too many bananas because hair would grow on my chest." (I tried to picture hair growing on this beautiful girl's chest. She had flawless skin. I didn't want to think about it...blocked it from my mind.) Then next came, (b) "I'm still out of breath from choir practice and my heart is still beating so hard. Here feel it." And with that she took my hand and placed it against her chest. And that's when (c) Miss Finzel, the stiff and strict speech teacher who was the self appointed enforcer against all displays of public affection, stuck her head through a classroom window and yelled at me, "MR. WILLIAMS! WHAT IS THE PROBLEM? DO YOU THINK SHE'S GOING TO RUN AWAY? STOP HOLDING HER HAND THIS MOMENT." And that was the end of my first date. 
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