My Blog has moved…

Thanks for dropping by…
My new blogging home is at:
http://trueslant.com/milesobrien
or simply:
http://milesobrien.com

You can follow me on twitter as well:

http://twitter.com/milesobrien

Seeya online somewhere I hope!
Miles

Over Africa…

Low and Slow with the Kenya Wildlife Service

They are risky missions with an important purpose. The brave, committed game wardens who fly for the Kenya Wildlife Service routinely fly low and slow in small single engine airplanes over the spectacular parks of Kenya to protect their endangered inhabitants from the threat of poachers and human encroachment.

The flying is demanding and the caliber of training required to do it safely is hard to come by in that part of the world. Over the years, KWS pilots have crashed or made emergency landings with alarming frequency.

But air show superstar and environmentalist Patty Wagstaff has changed that. Acting on a invitation from KWS advisor and supporter Bill Clark, this year marked her 6th trip to Kenya to put these pilots through their paces – making them much safer doing their risky business saving the elephants, the rhinos and a host of other animals on the brink of extinction.

Funded this year by the Charles A. and Anne Morrow Lindbergh Foundation, Patty’s expedition was the most ambitious and successful ever. In the air, she was joined by airshow performer, vintage airplane owner and backcountry flying virtuoso Rich Sugden. The airwork was buttressed with intensive classes from the foremost ground school instructors in the world, John and Martha King (Chairman and Secretary of the Lindbergh Foundation respectively).

My wife Sandy and I documented this remarkable mission every step of the way. Viewers of “Over Africa!” will be treated to the remarkable stories of these determined pilots – some of them from nomadic tribes – who pursued their dream to fly against steep odds – and who consider it a great privilege to receive the best training available anywhere in the world. We also captured great interviews with Wagstaff, Sugden and the Kings – who have tremendous fondness and respect for their pupils – and whose enthusiasm for the mission is infectious.

Their insights are set against  stunning High Definition images of Kenya’s Tsavo West National Park – replete with all manner of wildlife – including elephants which are mercilessly hunted by poachers for the ivory.

Sandy and I  flew with the KWS pilots on patrols – and installed cameras on the Super Cub, Husky, 180 and Decathlon used during training.

The Lindbergh Foundation funds endeavors that attempt to find technological solutions to environmental problems. It honors Charles Linbergh’s philosophy of stewardship of the planet which was forged as he flew the world over in small airplanes. The Foundation heartily supports this effort to train the KWS pilots – with the certainty Lindbergh would embrace it as the case in point for his “balanced” approach to environmentalism.

“Charles Lindbergh is up there somewhere smiling on this project,” said Lindbergh Foundation President Knox Bridges.

“Over Africa!” is a wild, fun ride – with a serious purpose – filled with some larger than life characters who, in their own small way, are helping save the planet.

It will premiere at the “Sun ‘n’ Fun” Fly-In in Lakeland, Florida on April 21, 2009.

All Photos By Sandy O’Brien

Computers and the Envionment

Sorry I have been off the blog-grid for a bit. Had a long, strange trip. Tokyo, San Fran, Denver, Dallas and then Austin. Details to come – and some thoughts on the Turkish Airliner crash as well. You can see my speech to the SHARE conference in Austin here:

Computers: Dirty Business from Miles O’Brien on Vimeo.

Share Version 2a

View more presentations from Miles O’brien. (tags: miles o’brien)

Chasing the Needles…

Pilots learning to fly on instruments are told by their instructors to be careful not to “chase the needles”. It is expression that refers to the gauge that is used to insure an airplane is flying inside an imaginary cone of safety as it descends toward a runway. The pilot’s goal is to keep the cross hairs lined up perfectly (as they are in this image) – meaning the aircraft is centered vertically and horizontally on the path toward a safe landing. Pilots who are new to flying with this gauge as a navigational reference tend to over-correct when the sensitive needles show the plane is in the wrong place. They “chase the needles” – flying S-turns – or porpoising up and down – as they struggle to find the sweet spot in the middle. More often that not, “chasing the needles” leads to a botched/aborted approach.

And so it goes for aviation accident investigations. As you read the daily dispatches about the current state of play in the search for the cause of the crash of Colgan/Continental 3407, I urge you to avoid “chasing the needles”.

Remember, a plane crash is almost always the result of a chain of seemingly unrelated factors.

So far, it appears investigators have only ruled out one significant thing: the aircraft itself. It seems the Dash-8 Q400 controls, systems and engines were all operating as per design. That leaves the weather, the instrument landing system and the human beings in the cockpit on the list of possible causes or contributors to this crash.

We know the plane had picked up a pretty good coating of ice that night – the crew reported that fact to controllers . Was that, in and of itself, enough to bring the plane down? Highly unlikely. Did it change the way the airplane performed – making it important for the crew to fly a little faster so it would not encounter an aerodynamic stall? Very likely. Would it have been wiser for the crew to disengage the autopilot and fly the airplane “by hand” through the ice – so they could “feel” the effects of the ice? You bet.

Was the Instrument Landing System for runway 23 operating properly that night? A few weeks before the crash, Southwest Airlines pilots warned of a glitch caused by terrain beneath the approach path to runway 23 that might cause an aircraft on autopilot to suddenly pitch up – chasing the needle – trying to intercept an errant radio beam. The FAA downplays this as a factor – saying the glitch is noted on charts. But I do not see any reference to this on the government issued diagram (“approach plate” in pilot parlance) for the Instrument Landing System approach to runway 23 at BUF. Apparently this would only be a factor for aircraft turning right toward the approach to runway 23 from the north. Colgan/Continental 3407 was turning left from the south. Stay tuned on this one.

Finally, did the crew manage the aircraft properly given the conditions and circumstances that night? Was the ice a distraction that caused them to ignore some basic rules of airmanship (like maintaining a safe speed)? Or was the ice a red herring – that caused them to make matters worse when the plane automatically tried to pitch the nose downward (apparently to prevent an aerodynamic stall)? Did they presume it was a so-called “tailplane stall” – wherein the recovery calls for the pilot to pull the nose up? (see previous post).

Or was it a combination of some or all of these factors? Don’t chase the needles.

The “Groundhog Day” Accident

What made this crash more than tragic was that it was foreseeable and likely preventable if not for the preference of profit over safety in some of the aviation industry and for the lax oversight of the Federal Aviation Administration in its failure to adequately address known safety risks related to icing.

- Jim Hall, former chairman of the NTSB, quoted in the Buffalo News.

In aviation, there is an expression that the rules, regulations, designs and procedures are “written in blood” – meaning the tremendous safety that is built into our  air transport system comes at the steepest price of all: human lives. It is is a grim reality, but when people die in airplane crashes, the lessons learned generally do make it less likely history will repeat itself. We are supposed to learn from our mistakes, right?

Except, it seems, when it comes to ice. For as long as pilots have dared to fly their airplanes into the clouds, they have found themselves grappling with this efficient killer – and yet the accidents keep happening again and again – as if we are all living in Bill Murray’s “Groundhog Day” nightmare.

While it is way to early to know what happened with certainty, he crash of Colgan/Continental 3407 in Buffalo appears to be a tragic replay of the the Comair crash in January 1997 outside Detroit, which itself was a repeat of the American Eagle crash in Roselawn, Indiana in 1994 – which had all the elements of the crash of American Airlines Flight 63 in Centerville, TN – in October of 1943!

There are plenty of other deadly crashes in between – way too numerous to mention (the grim list is here) – but some of them may be lodged in your memory: the Air Florida crash into the Potomac in Washington DC in 1982 – the DC-8 carrying US troops home for the holidays that went down in Gander, Newfoundland in 1985 – the USAir crash on takeoff at LaGuardia in March 1992 – or the chartered jet carrying TV executive Dick Ebersol and his family that crashed in Colorado in November 2004.

We are now in our seventh decade of watching ice laden planes fall out of the sky and you have to wonder why. The National Transportation Safety Board is also wondering. The Board made some recommendations to the FAA aimed at reducing the risks – and put them on top of its so-called “Most Wanted” list.

The NTSB is asking the FAA to:

• change the way manufacturers evaluate new airplanes for performance in icing conditions.
• require manufacturers to demonstrate their aircraft can operate for extended periods in Supercooled Large Drop icing conditions (cause of the Roselawn crash) or provide pilots a warning that these conditions exist so they take evasive action.
• create more specific procedures for operation of ice protection systems and when to fly out of icing conditions.
• require additional testing – with revised criteria – of turboprop airplanes currently in service to insure no unsafe conditions exist.
• require flight crews to activate pneumatic boot systems to knock off ice the moment they encounter icing conditions.

In 2007, the FAA  put  these ideas into the rule-making pipeline – but only the rule that changes the way new airplane designs are tested for ice resilience has been made the the law of the land. It’s now been 15 years since the Roselawn crash – which crystallized (if you will) the impetus for change – and the rule-making process appears frozen in time.

“The pace of the FAA’s activities in response to all of these recommendations remains unacceptably slow, despite some encouraging action during 2007,” says the NTSB.

For its part, the FAA says it “has taken short-and long-term safety actions over the past 15 years to improve safety of aircraft that encounter icing conditions on the ground and in flight.” And it released a fact-sheet with a tally of actions taken since Roselawn. It boasts of “100 airworthiness directives to address icing safety issues on more than 50 specific aircraft types.”

But the rules that would change either require installation of ice detection equipment or changes in the way ice protection systems are operated – and the rule that affects supercooled large drop icing remains in limbo pending an “economic analysis.”

Whatever the bottom line may be when the bean counters are done, it is axiomatic that safety costs money – and the converse holds as well. The fact is, the airlines are not doing well (they were a leading edge indicator for the rest of us, I suppose) and the FAA has to walk the line between mandating safety improvements – and placing financially unbearable regulations on an ailing industry. It is probably no coincidence that the only rule that has been codified affects aircraft designs in development – and thus will not incur any direct costs to the airlines.

To borrow a phrase, if you want to know why ice is still killing people in airliners – you must follow the money. Blood money.

Tailplane Icing Tested, Explained – by NASA

Check out this tape from NASA’s Glenn Research Center in Cleveland. It is 23 minutes long, but it is worth your time if you want to fully understand what might have happened to Colgan/Continental 3407. It explains the phenomenon of Tailplane icing in stark, frightening detail.  The key points: the horizontal stabilizer collects ice faster (and holds more of it) than the wing. It is impossible for a flight crew to see this. NASA says if the crew sees any ice at all on wings, they should assume there is more ice on horizontal stabilizer. The problem is often discovered on approach – when the flaps are extended. If the tail stalls at that point recovery is very difficult – if not impossible. Flying on autopilot you would never feel the symptoms of TP icing – which include difficulty trimming the airplane – or oscillations.  In severe cases of TP icing, the yoke goes all the way forward to the stops – and it requires 170 pound of pressure to pull the back on the wheel. Full deployment of flaps is not advised when there is ice on the stabilizer. Film shows dramatic testing of this kind of icing – and its impact on a de Havilland DH6 (the Otter) – cousin to the Dash 8 that crashed on approach to BUF.  Chilling point to remember: Lowering flaps is the trigger. When you lower the flaps, the yoke shakes, and it seems just like a typical wing stall. But if you try a standard wing stall recovery, “you and your passengers could become history,” says NASA. Tip of the hat to Jon Regas for finding this. Link to video here.

Thoughts on Ice and Aviation…

(Ed. note: I was going to tell you some fascinating tales of my adventures in Kenya over the past few weeks, but that will have to wait…)

Airplane crashes are almost always the result of a series of unrelated factors, decisions and failures that conspire to make a tragedy. Remove – or change the order of – any one link in the chain – and the accident doesn’t happen.

Keep this in mind as you watch the often inaccurate, nonsensical, irrelevant coverage of the crash of Continental 3407.

The NTSB “Go Team” that is heading to Buffalo will be comprised of experts in all facets of aviation – and they are hardwired to make sure they do not put blinders on as they sift through this smoldering hole in the ground.

They are seasoned professionals with the collective goal of releasing a thorough and comprehensive report – with the hope that it will make air travel safer in the future. It often takes months or even years for them declare the “probable cause” of an accident.

But of course we all want to know what happened now. And there are some telling clues and facts that you should keep in mind as you follow this investigation:

1)    This happened suddenly. The flight crew did not issue a “May Day” – or report to controllers that they had any sort of problem (ala Sully’s Hudson River splash-landing).
2)    The Bombardier (nee de Havilland Canada) Dash 8 series aircraft have a sterling safety record.  My query to the NTSB database does not return a single accident report. In the fall of 2007, all Dash 8 Q400’s with more than 10,000 landings were grounded for inspection after the landing gear collapsed on two Q400’s in the same week. But that is about it.
3)    The weather conditions were absolutely perfect for the formation and buildup of ice on the surfaces of the aircraft.
4)    It was dark – making it harder to detect ice buildup.
5)    Turboprop airplanes are more vulnerable to the threat of ice.
6)    The accident happened near the “final approach fix” – the place where the flight crew would reduce power, and slow the airplane down for its descent down the “glide slope” to the threshold of the runway.

Take a look at this icing conditions warning chart issued by the NOAA Aviation Weather Center that was applicable for the time of the crash (10:10 PM EST). At that time, the forecasters showed the right combination of temperature and precipitation to cause icing existed in Buffalo from the surface through 18,000 feet.

Also take a look at these numbers below:

METAR text: KBUF 130354Z 24011KT 3SM -SN BR SCT011 OVC021 01/M01 A2981 RMK AO2 SLP103 P0002 T00061006

This is the weather report  (or “METAR” in aviation parlance) for BUF at the time of the crash. I have pasted in the actual report for you pilots out there – the basic translation is the wind was blowing from the southwest at 11 knots; visibility was 3 miles with snow and mist. There were scattered clouds at 1100 feet, a solid overcast deck at 2100 feet. The temperature was +01C (about 33 degrees Fahrenheit) – and the dew point was -01C.

Snow, mist and a 2-degree separation between the temperature and the dew point around the freezing mark are sure signs that there is ice in the air, if you will. As you fly higher, the temperature drops. Pilots learn about something called the “adiabatic lapse rate”. While it varies with temperature and pressure, when the air is saturated with moisture, it should get 2.7 °F colder for every thousand feet of altitude gained.

The Instrument Landing System approach to Runway 23 at BUF requires the aircraft to maintain 2300 feet of altitude above sea level (1600 feet above the ground) before beginning the decent down the “glide slope”.

Using the lapse rate as a rule of thumb, the temperature at that altitude would be about 4 degrees colder – or 29 degrees Fahrenheit. It is highly likely this airplane was picking up a load of ice

Now icing is a huge problem if you fly a little airplane like mine. Matter of fact, the FAA prohibits my airplane from flying into that blue box – where there are “known icing conditions” because it is not equipped with the necessary de-icing equipment. No sane pilot would thumb his or her nose at this regulation – as ice can bring an airplane down with frightening efficiency: it reduces engine performance, adds weight and changes the shape – reducing the lift – of aerodynamic surfaces.

But this airplane was certified to fly in icing conditions – and had all the necessary equipment. It should not have been a problem. Was the de-icing equipment not working properly? Did the crew use it properly?

The Dash 8 manual says when the plane is operating in icing conditions, engine intake by-pass doors must be open, engine ignition switches must be set at manual, and airframe de-ice must be set to slow or fast. The first two rules are designed to insure the turbine engines maintain required power and the latter is the system that keeps ice from building up on the leading edges of the aerodynamic surfaces.

They are called “boots” – and they consist of a rubber membrane covering the leading edge of the aero surfaces. When in use, the boots inflate repeatedly with air to break off ice at it forms. There is a myth among many pilots that is it wiser to wait for ice to build-up a bit before activating the boots. The fear is that constant use of the system will create a gap between the ice and the boots – a so called “ice bridge” – rendering the boots impotent. The experts now say boots should be on the minute a pilot sees the slightest bit of ice on the wings. But it was dark and the crew was focused on flying the approach. Did they check for ice?

This accident hearkens back to the crash of flight American Eagle flight 4184 on Halloween night 1994. It was an ATR-72 – also a twin-engine turboprop. The flight was en route from Indianapolis to O’Hare when bad weather forced controllers to put the aircraft into holding pattern at 8,000 feet – where it flew through so called supercooled water droplets – liquid precipitation that is actually colder than the freezing point of water. I am not going to give you the full explanation here (it is a little complex) – check out this wiki link if you are curious.

The key point is this: a supercooled drop of water freezes instantly on contact with surfaces such as electrical power lines, trees, and roads – creating what we call an ice storm. Those same supercooled drops can cover an airplane in ice almost instantly.

As the ice built up on American Eagle 4184, it rolled – and then dove into the ground in Roselawn, Indiana – killing the 64 passengers and 4 crewmembers aboard. The full NTSB report can be found here.

The crew of 4184 did have the boots turned on – but the conditions were “outside the envelope” – meaning the equipment was no match for Mother Nature on that night.

One of the lessons of that crash however is something many pilots like me keep in mind. The crew of 4184 was using the autopilot before they lost control. Since their hands were not on the controls, they could not easily detect that the ice–laden plane was requiring a severe correction in order to maintain altitude. Finally, the control surfaces “ran out of authority” – the autopilot disconnected – and the plane rolled into an uncontrolled fatal dive. It was too late for the crew to right the craft.

Whenever I see the slightest bit of ice on my wings, I disconnect the autopilot – so I can “feel” what is happening to the airplane  (while asking the controller for a lower altitude immediately).

You have to wonder if Continental 3407 was flying on autopilot – carrying enough ice on its wings that its normal approach speed was simply too slow for it to stay in the air. So when it slowed down, it simply dropped out of the sky. You have to wonder…

The big “Y”

I was fast asleep when the Challenger exploded. It was almost high noon – but I had turned in only about three hours before.

I had spent the night in a citrus grove in Polk County, Florida. I was a general assignment reporter for a TV station in Tampa, and we were up all night providing viewers constant updates on the record freeze. The fate of the citrus crop is very big news in that part of the world.

We had huddled near smudge pots and (more modern) kerosene heaters that dotted the grove in neat rows beside the trees. But they did little to ease our chill, and I suspect, they were equally futile in protecting the valuable fruit. As I think back on it, seeing central Florida that clear, cold night from low earth orbit would have been an eerie, spectacular site.

When the call came from the assignment desk, I was in a deep sleep, so it took me some time to comprehend what I had just been told: “You are not going to believe this, but the shuttle has blown up.”

I turned on the TV and dressed quickly. My assignment: to gather local reaction to the tragedy. When I walked outside, I looked up at an implausibly blue sky – the kind of sky you only get when high pressure and low temperatures intersect.

Then I saw it. At first, I thought it was a cloud. But it was such an odd shape. Kind of like a big “Y”. It was, in fact, the awful scar that loomed off the coast of Cape Canaveral – more than 150 miles away. It seemed to be asking us all a question that to this day offers no easy answers: “Why?”

As you know, the truth is painful and sad. NASA managers were determined to prove their shuttle fleet was truly “operational” – even commercially viable. If their dreams had become reality, 1986 would have been the busiest year ever in the history of the Space Transportation System.

Fifteen flights were scheduled over 11 months. One was supposed to be the first mission to launch from the new shuttle facility at Vandenberg Air Force Base in California. Nine communications satellites, three classified payloads for the Pentagon and two major unmanned probes were to be carried into space in the payload bay of an orbiter that year.

NASA managers were trying to live up to years and years of their own unrealistic expectations, fanciful claims, pure science-fiction, and outright lies.

So when they discounted and discarded the firm “no-go” admonitions of engineers at the Thiokol plant in Utah where the solid rocket boosters are made, mission mangers team were, in fact, lying to themselves.

They, too, were asleep on that bitter morning when the world witnessed a nightmare.

All of this was tumbling through my head as I traveled up the road to Chattanooga to meet June Scobee Rodgers nine years ago. I wondered if, after all these years, she was bitter, or angry, or sad.

The answer is “none of the above.”

With the “Y” still hanging in the sky, she was telling then Vice President George Bush and then Senator John Glenn that her husband, Challenger Commander Dick Scobee, would not have wanted the country to take the fork in the road that would bring manned space exploration to an end.

But it went beyond lip service. “I couldn’t NOT help to continue that mission – I couldn’t NOT do my part,” June told me.

Sometime later, as she and the other surviving family members met in her living room, it became clear they HAD to do SOMETHING.

“Each of us wanted to do our part to see that space exploration continued – that shuttle flights went on and their mission in particular lived,” says June.

And so the Challenger Learning Centers were born. Middle school students come to these places to role-play as astronauts and flight controllers – learning about math, science and teamwork in a way that doesn’t seem like learning. Visit one sometime – and you will marvel at  the intensity, the concentration and the utter joy these children display as they accomplish their mission.

There are now about 50 of these magical places – and millions of kids have tasted the excitement of saving the space station.

Clearly, this has helped June Scobee Rodgers cope with her loss. Happily remarried (to former Army General Don Rodgers) she has journeyed down a tough road to some happiness and peace.

But, as she confided, “there is always that morning when you wake up – on the 28th – where you think about that tremendous loss. I am so blessed, though, because I have had a beautiful life since then… and I have been given a chance to love again.

“Those are hard days and my children and I always talk to each other – and I often talk to the other families. But then we go on and we celebrate how far we have come and we often have a great celebration – a ribbon cutting (at a) new learning center that is opening – and we see that they lived in truth and they have given us so much.”

Today, I am lucky to be a member of the Board of the Challenger Center for Space Science Education. It is an organization that does much to engage and inspire kids – and keep the dreams and hopes of that lost crew alive.

The organization does great things – but it needs our help. I encourage you to support it.

My fast 5

Bill Garvey of Business and Commercial Aviation Magazine recently interviewed me for the publication’s “Fast 5″ column. It has some additional relevance given the Citibank Falcon Flap. There is no way to link non-subscribers to this on line apparently, so here is the text of the Q and A:

Fast Five
By William Garvey

Miles O’Brien, former Technology and Environment Correspondent, Cable News Network, New York, N.Y.

A history major at Georgetown University, O’Brien reported news at several local TV stations before applying for the science correspondent’s job at CNN. Interviewed by CNN’s chief science producer, a molecular biologist, it was quickly apparent O’Brien “didn’t know squat about science.” He brashly argued that his ignorance combined with his natural curiosity and interviewing skills made him the perfect candidate for the job – and he got it. A pilot, he reported on a wide range of technological subjects including aerospace for nearly 17 years until the network announced in December it was dismantling its science unit and letting O’Brien go.

1. Do general media reporters and editors have a natural antipathy for business aviation?
O’Brien:  Most reporters are contrarians and hard-wired to be skeptical, to the point of bordering on cynical, about the intent of people who sit in corner offices. They address a broad audience and tap into that sense of populism. And when confronted with the hubris and arrogance that goes along with a G IV, it’s irresistible; they simply can’t pull their punches.

2. And that factored into the coverage on the carmakers coming to Washington in their business jets?
O’Brien: There are certain times, especially with television, when an image provides the perfect metaphor for a larger, more complex story that’s difficult to tell. The nature of the carmakers’ mission and their arrival by jet sums up lots of things about the mindset of the management that got Detroit where it is. They were coming with tin cups while spewing jet fuel by the hundreds of pounds. It was a target that was impossible to overlook, highlighting the fact that they just don’t get it.

3. Any suggestion on how the business aviation community can alter the perspective and the storyline?
O’Brien: We all know why these airplanes have no logos and why they block the N numbers. The argument that it’s for security is baloney. It’s because they don’t want shareholders to know they’re jetting around in these things. That’s the wrong approach. It gives the media and the public the sense that the suits are hiding something. Warren Buffett says of all technologies, only a business jet can give you time and can really change your life. Well, if it’s really a time machine and provides efficiency, then companies should promote that fact. They should announce, “Hey, we’ve got six of them and need them all to stay competitive.”

4. You were on the shortlist to succeed Phil Boyer at AOPA. Had you been offered the job, would you have accepted?
O’Brien: Yes. I was really excited about the challenge. I think general aviation needs to communicate more effectively and in new ways to advance its issues and to grow new pilots. Communicating is what I do. They decided to go with a Washington guy, since working the halls of Congress is an important piece of the job. I’m no lobbyist. I wish Craig Fuller well; he’s got a tough job ahead of him. Phil’s timing is impeccable.

5. And what about the timing of your departure from CNN?
O’Brien: I’m walking out without a walker, and that’s good. CNN is providing a nice financial cushion and that gives me time to figure out what’s next. I’ve heard from lots of people, multiple calls every day, and we’re talking about other channels, speeches and maybe a book. This is an exciting time. Would I still be there if they’d not pushed me out? Sure. We all get comfortable and the compensation was good. But I can now pursue things that my contract wouldn’t allow and I’m looking forward to it.

We Aimed for the Stars…

Here is an excerpt of an op-ed I just wrote for Space News.  Would love to hear your thoughts. The entire article can be found at: http://www.space.com/spacenews/archive09/obrienoped_0119.html

Truth is, we have done nothing to equal (much less top) the accomplishments of Apollo. And even worse, we haven’t tried. We did something truly great, but then walked away from it. We had lightning in a bottle — and we opened the lid.

Our country has been pulling the rug out from under NASA ever since Apollo. Really, the agency is running on fumes from rocket fuel that was purchased (on a credit card no doubt) in 1961.

Why did we allow it to slip through our fingers? Sometimes I get the feeling we are the only nation that just doesn’t get it,because we are either cocky or stupid or distracted — or all of the above.