The Northward Contrail

Christmas Eve, a little early

The calendar has pulled a trick on us this year, and Christmas Eve is on a Saturday. Therefore, my annual Christmas Eve post will come a day early. I go back to it every year, but this moment in history is more powerful than anything I could come up with myself. Merry Christmas, y'all.

This is no drill

Seventy years ago today Pearl Harbor was attacked and the United States became a nation at war. There's no shortage of commemorations and remembrances of that event today, and as much as I'm interested in the history (having bought a paperback copy of Day of Infamy as a teenager and pretty much wearing it out), I wanted to give some attention to how it was covered by broadcast media that day.

There are several collections from radio out there, but I found myself most fascinated by this one, as well as this one. I'd also direct you to Bob Trout's firsthand recollections of that day, available here. (The version of the CBS bulletin you hear most often - with John Charles Daly saying "we interrupt this program" - isn't the way it really went that day. Quite a story behind that, involving a couple heroes of mine you ordinarily wouldn't associate with that kind of fudging, but I'll let you discover that little gem on your own.)

Believe it or not, there was effort made by fledgling television to provide news about the attack. I'll direct you to this brief yet fascinating article.

Above all, take a moment today to remember.

Another observance

Not trying to cheap out on you - really, I mean it - but given today's date, I believe it's appropriate to steer you toward this 2009 essay on a favorite piece of film about that moment in history. (I'm hoping to have time tomorrow to observe that annual ritual.)

Remembrance

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

— Lt. Col. John McCrae

Filmed in Supercinevisionscope

Old movies fascinate me on many levels: not only as a way of telling stories, but also because they're stories in themselves, and of course to a nerd they're intriguing because all the equipment used to make and exhibit them is storied too. Today's link has to do with that last. Go here and luxuriate in the widescreen splendor of yesteryear. Nothing they come out with these days captures my imagination like the widescreen epics from way back when (and seeing Lawrence of Arabia projected in its widescreen glory on a real honest-to-goodness big screen is on my bucket list).

Beyond that, look at the graphic design from those days: the posters, the title sequences (and the genius of Saul Bass on display in so many of them), you name it. Oh, and in several places the curator indulges his completely justified thing for the film goddesses of yesteryear, too. Nothing wrong with that at all, except they're a reminder that, once again, they sure don't make 'em like they used to.

Flight of the Phoenix

Today's the 43rd anniversary of the launch of Apollo 7, the first Apollo mission to carry astronauts into space.  I've long had an interest in it because its commander, Wally Schirra, was always a favorite of mine.  It was a memorable mission -- the "Wally, Walt and Donn Show," the disagreements with Mission Control, the head colds that later provided a second career for Schirra, and all the while the new and improved Apollo spacecraft proved itself ready for more daring missions soon to come.  (Any hardcore space enthusiast will understand the significance of today's post title.)

Most of the numbered Apollo missions launched on the mighty Saturn V, but Apollo 7 used the Saturn IB instead.  While it's easy to find models of the Saturn V, the Saturn I is obscure by comparison.  AMT did one as part of the "Man In Space" set in 1:200, but I cut my teeth on 1:144 launch vehicles with the Saturn V and Shuttle kits I had.  Airfix did a plastic kit in 1:144, and the last time it had been released was about 20 years back, when it seemed to be available again for about three and a half minutes.  I remember seeing one in a hobby shop about that time, and thinking to myself, "Ah, I'll get it later."  Well, "later" didn't come and for two decades the Saturn IB kit was rare as hen's teeth.  I spent a lot of time kicking myself for not buying it while I had the chance.

Cut to a few months ago, and the glorious news that Airfix was reissuing a lot of space kits.  Including, thankfully, the Saturn IB -- this time, with improvements, including parts to more accurately depict the Apollo spacecraft.  And a few weeks ago, one of them made the trip home from the hobby shop with me.  The possibilities are many for which mission to depict, but Apollo 7 is always a safe bet, especially since I have one of these to display with it.  (This is as good a time as any to put in a plug for Walt and Dot Cunningham.  They're good people.)

Oh, and thank you, Airfix.

:: Apollo 7 was also the final launch from Launch Complex 34.  Here's a look back at my 2008 visit to KSC and CCAFS, including my visit to 34.

Today's linkage

A Wiki-Walk last night led me to this fascinating site, which is worth a few moments of your time.  (Though it's all good, I found this article especially compelling.)  Anyhow, check it out.

Well, there goes another project

I've thought for a while that it would be a grand project to explore the literature of the Cold War era, the novels and such that took place in the post-World War III world, and do some analysis.  Maybe get an academic paper out of it, that kind of thing, all while satisfying my own personal curiosities and sorting through the things I feared in childhood.

Of course, that's when a friend sent me this link.  It not only meant somebody beat me to the project, but it also meant I lost several hours thereafter devouring all this fascinating material.  The good news is, this guy brings a perspective to it I can't match, and that makes it all the better.  Nerd Girl says check it out.

Ghost

We were taking the hotel shuttle from the Fairbanks airport.  I'd heard something of interest was still around, but didn't glimpse it until we were headed out.  I just had time to catch a distant picture of it as we drove away.

It isn't necessarily the building itself that's of interest, but the name and insignia that remain long after the company went defunct.  (You can see a much closer photo here.)  I don't know if it's one of those deliberate things, or if painting it out would require effort that's better spent elsewhere, or what the story is...but I sure do hope that sign stays there forever.

The call of the wild, on your wall

I'm now much better about trolling eBay than I once was, but there's a few searches I'll run every day or two just for curiosity's sake.  They have to do with Alaska aviation and certain names from the past: Reeve Aleutian Airways, Northern Consolidated Airways, and Interior Airways, just to name a few.  But the one I always search with the most care is when I use the terms "wien alaska."  I can't quite grab why it is Wien in all its different forms seized my imagination the way it did, but somehow I've joined those who carry a torch for this bygone airline a quarter century after its demise.

On any given day you'll come across 50 or 60 Wien items on the eBay, and about half of them are what you'd expect.  Sometimes you'll come across the Arctic Circle crossing certificates, and a good one can be bought for a comparatively cheap sum (which is how I acquired mine).  But most of it will be paper goods, publications, the occasional model aircraft decal, or other similar items.

But there's one item -- really, four items -- I've come across in my searches that I'd love to have, but only under the right circumstances.  Sometime around 1980-1981, Wien commissioned a series of posters to tell its story through art.  The airline didn't just hire any artist; it hired Jon Van Zyle, a renowned Alaska artist who's probably best known for his paintings celebrating the Iditarod.  From Van Zyle's hands came art that Wien used in four evocative posters (and at that site, you can click on each for a closer look).  Each draws you into a story, and each in its own way beckons you to the Last Frontier, and when I look at them, it's like I'm there again.  I can't put my finger on why; it just is.

These posters aren't easy to find, but sometimes they'll pop up on eBay; when they do, they command a small fortune -- or, at least to me it seems like a small fortune.  One seller had all four at one point, but since they were sold framed (and since the posters are 24x36) you can imagine the shipping was astronomical, and then the set got broken up when someone bought one of them, so it wouldn't have worked anyway. Someone else currently has the campsite one up for sale, unframed, and though I've been tempted, to me it wouldn't really work unless I could buy the whole set. I am, after all, a completionist.

And that's why I keep scouring the Internets and the auction sites.  Someday, I know all four will turn up, be it online or in an antique shop or swap meet somewhere, and I'll be able to make them mine.  It's part of the thrill of the hunt -- and, besides, it's always good to have another quest waiting in the wings, for that helps keep life interesting.