Curio Cabinet

It's Flashback Friday, and the first day of Black History Month! Enjoy these curios celebrating the history and innovations of Black Americans. 
Imagine being a playwright, doctor, humanitarian, astronaut, and history-maker. In 1992, Mae Jemison became the first African American woman to go into space. Jemison grew up in a time when the Apollo missions were in full swing, with television broadcasts of the astronauts launching into space. But she also grew up in a time when there were no women, and very few African American people donning spacesuits and exploring the cosmos. Nevertheless, Jemison dreamed of going into space from the time she was a child. One of her earliest inspirations came in the form of Lt. Uhura, the African American, female communications officer aboard the Starship Enterprise in Star Trek. Jemison would go on to befriend Nichelle Nichols, the actress who portrayed the character, and she even had a guest appearance on Star Trek: The Next Generation in 1993, but before her own voyage into the “Final Frontier,” Jemison took some detours.
 
She excelled in academics and graduated from high school at the age of 16. Then, at Stanford University, she studied chemistry and earned a degree in African and Afro-American Studies. In between her demanding coursework, she managed to direct a musical play titled, Out of the Shadows, with music by Quincy Jones and Stevie Wonder. After completing her undergraduate studies, she went to Cornell University to study medicine, squeezing in overseas humanitarian missions between semesters. She then joined the Peace Corp for a number of years before opening a private practice in 1983. That same year, Sally Ride became the first woman to go into space. Inspired by Ride, Jemison’s dream of going into space was renewed, and she applied for the astronaut program at NASA. NASA briefly stopped taking applications for new candidates after the Challenger disaster in 1986, but Jemison applied again in 1987. This time, she was accepted, and on September 12, 1992, Jemison finally embarked on her voyage on the space shuttle Endeavor. Today, she is an advocate for minorities in STEM fields and manages The Dorothy Jemison Foundation for Excellence, which she named after her mother, who encouraged her pursuits. She really takes “reach for the stars” to a whole new level.

 
[Image description: Mae Carol Jemison wearing her orange NASA space suit.] Credit & copyright: NASA, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

Feeling the sting of high gas prices? Go fly a kite! That’s what one company wants cargo ships to do with their new invention, which can help save on fuel costs. French energy equipment company AirSeas recently debuted the Seawing, a parafoil, or self-inflating, kite-like device, that can be retrofitted onto the fronts of ships to provide additional propulsion. It’s not quite a sail in the traditional sense. Rather, it catches the wind like a kite. When wind conditions are right, the parafoil is deployed automatically, rising into the air and pulling ships along. When the wind dies down, it retracts automatically, and no one needs to fiddle around with folding it up manually. The device currently comes in two sizes: 2,700-square-feet and 5,400-square-feet. A 10,800-square-foot version reportedly on the way. Used correctly, the Seawing can reportedly account for up to 20 percent of a ship’s total propulsion, greatly saving on fuel during long voyages. While this technology alone is far from enough to completely eliminate the need for fuel, it could still have a big impact in fighting climate change. Cargo ships primarily burn bunker fuel, which tends to contain more contaminants and release far more pollutants than other fuels. Around 100,000 cargo ships travel the world’s oceans every year, contributing greatly to rising greenhouse gas emissions. AirSeas already has several customers, including Japanese shipping company K Line, which plans to fit 50 of their ships with Seawings. It seems that catching air is really catching on.
 

[Image description: A cargo ship on the water, loaded with shipping containers.] Credit & copyright: hectorgalarza, Pixabay
 

The root of human language might not be all that far down in the tree of life. Researchers at the University of St. Andrews have found that humans share some striking similarities with our great ape cousins when it comes to the way we communicate using body and hand gestures. This hints at the possibility of a common origin of language between apes and humans. To test this theory, the researchers first created a catalog of gestures used by chimpanzees and bonobos that conveyed meanings like, “groom me,” “let’s mate” and “come here.” Interestingly, the two species used the same gestures for many of these messages, even though the two populations don’t interact in the wild. Lead researcher Kristy Graham and her team then recorded chimps and bonobos making the gestures from the catalog. They showed these recordings to human volunteers and asked them to choose what each gesture meant from a selection of multiple choice answers. According to the results, human beings can understand great apes’ body language over 50 percent of the time, a rate that is higher than if the volunteers had simply guessed. In other words, human beings can understand chimps and bonobos using just hand signals and body language intrinsically, even though we are different species with no shared spoken language. That may not seem like a big deal, but it means that there is something innately similar in the way human beings and other great apes understand and process language. Graham told the BBC, "Human infants use some of these same gestures, too. So we already had a suspicion that this was a shared gesturing ability that might have been present in our last shared ancestor…We're quite confident now that our ancestors would have started off gesturing, and that this was co-opted into [our] language." That’s a big thumbs up for evolutionary science!

 
[Image description: A chimpanzee lies on its back and chews on a blade of grass.] Credit & copyright: Gotti1979, Pixabay

On this day in 1986, the U.S. was in mourning. One day earlier, on January 28, the space shuttle Challenger had exploded after takeoff, killing all seven crew members aboard. Most Americans were in shock…but not engineer Allan J. McDonald. He had known that there were potentially deadly problems with the Challenger, and had tried to delay its launch. After the tragedy, McDonald and other like-minded engineers worked to expose those at NASA who had insisted on pressing forward with the launch in spite of safety concerns.
 
Born on July 9, 1937, in Coding, Wyoming, McDonald began working for Morton-Thiokol, Inc., a company specializing in rockets and propulsion systems, in 1959. He served as leader for all of Morton-Thiokol’s flight tests launched out of Cape Canaveral, Florida, where he would check the condition of missiles before they were launched for testing. In 1973, Morton-Thiokol was contracted by NASA to create solid rocket boosters for their space shuttles. McDonald led a team which assessed shuttles before their launches from Kennedy Space Center in Merritt Island, Florida. It was up to McDonald to sign paperwork approving or disapproving each launch. He didn’t have the final say in whether launches moved forward, however. His opinion was considered alongside that of other engineers.
 
The space shuttle Challenger was built in 1983. Over its three years of service, it completed nine successful missions. Its tenth mission, designated STS-51-L, was originally scheduled for July, 1985. Assigning the crew took longer than anticipated, though, so the launch was rescheduled for November of that year. However, changes to the shuttle’s weight necessitated another delay, leading to the launch being set for January 28, 1986. Throughout the ongoing delays, McDonald and other engineers were tasked with inspecting Challenger, and they weren’t comfortable with what they found. The cold January weather made McDonald concerned about the O-ring seals in the shuttle's solid rocket booster joints. These O-rings were made from rubber, and were supposed to seal together joints in the boosters. Cold weather caused the rubber to stiffen. McDonald knew that this could lead to unsealed joints, and leaks of pressurized gas. Bob Ebeling, Arnold Thompson, and Roger Boisjoly, fellow engineers from Morton-Thiokol, agreed that the O-rings posed a serious problem. They, along with McDonald, told Morton-Thiokol officials of their concerns.
 
Unfortunately, pressure surrounded the mission. After all, Challenger’s launch had already been delayed, and the mission was highly-publicized due to the inclusion of school teacher Christa McAuliffe, the crew member meant to be America’s first civilian astronaut. When Morton-Thiokol brought their engineers’ concerns to NASA, they were dismissed. Days before launch, Morton-Thiokol asked McDonald to sign and submit an official form stating that the Challenger was safe to launch. He refused, but the launch moved forward anyway.
 
73 seconds after Challenger’s launch, the O-ring seals on the shuttle’s right solid rocket booster failed, having stiffened from the cold weather. Hot, pressurized gas from the boosters leaked through joints and into an external propellant tank. This caused an explosion and threw the shuttle into a rotation at nearly 1,500 miles per hour. It was ripped apart by aerodynamic forces, killing all seven crew members aboard. McDonald watched the tragedy unfold from Cape Canaveral.
 
Days later, he traveled to Washington D.C. to participate in the Rogers Commission, a Presidential Commission meant to uncover the reasons behind the launch’s failure. McDonald listened as NASA officials failed to acknowledge his concerns leading up to the launch. Finally, he interrupted an official’s testimony by raising his hand to speak. He informed the commission that he and other engineers had recommended against the launch, refused to sign off on it, and had even sent NASA a letter of concern regarding the O-rings. The focus of the commission immediately shifted to focus on procedural failures at NASA. Afterward, Morton-Thiokol retaliated against McDonald by demoting him and several other engineers, including Roger Boisjoly. Boisjoly reported this to the commission, and Congress threatened to bar Morton-Thiokol from future federal contracts unless they reversed the demotions. In 1988, McDonald was placed in charge of creating new, safer rocket boosters for future shuttle launches.
 
Even after his retirement in 2001, McDonald remained committed to safety. He became a speaker on ethics and decision making, addressing engineers on the importance of both. Prior to his death in 2021, he donated his personal papers regarding the Challenger launch to Chapman University in the hope that they could prove useful to future researchers. No doubt they contain just as many lessons about leadership and heroism as they do about engineering.

 
[Image description: Allan J. McDonald gestures as he speaks at a conference in 2012.] Credit & copyright: NASA, Sean Smith, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain