Six degrees of separation is the theory that anyone on the planet can be connected to any other person on the planet through a chain of acquaintances that has no more than five intermediaries. The theory was first proposed in 1929 and has been tested, and proven with significant accuracy, in a number of studies since.
My friend, Gus Fitch, takes the theory one step further and refers to these human connections as “strings of historical experience”: “Imagine, if you will, your presence in the void of the cosmos is represented by the sum of every experience you have ever had. But because we do not live solo in this space, our experiences are always affected by our interaction with other people and the elements of our environment. I visualize this as a ball of energy and from the ball there are strings of historical experiences shooting out in every possible direction in this three dimensional, perhaps four dimensional place. As I stipulated, you are not alone. All around you are people who have similar strings jutting out in every direction. As two or more balls of energy come close to one another, their strings will touch and provide the opportunity to move from passive history to a shared experience. But...if there is no energy expended, then the potential for a "shared" experience is lost as the balls move away from each other.”
The point he ultimately makes is that to find these interconnecting strings takes a little effort. We must stop, pause, smile and take time to actually talk to anyone who will listen. The theory is (and I am a true believer) that we will always find some connection; a place, a person, a thing, an experience that we and those with whom we are speaking have in common from our past.
My most recent example of this centers around the launch of the last Space Shuttle to leave planet Earth, STS-135. For me, this is perhaps my most unique “String of historical experience”, although I have had many.
On July 2nd, Christine and I flew from Orlando, FL to Syracuse NY to attend my niece Saralyn’s wedding on the 3rd. We spent a couple of glorious warm, clear, sunny days in the Finger Lakes region of beautiful upstate New York. The wedding and family get-togethers were fabulous and we celebrated the 200th anniversary of the incorporation of my home town of Candor, NY on the 4th of July. The weekend was all too short as we had to leave on July 5th.
Unrelated to our visit, this week also marks another milestone event with the last flight of the NASA flight shuttle program scheduled for July 8th and the launch of STS-135. I happen to know who the shuttle pilot is because I know his father.
Long ago . . . In the mid 1970’s I used to meet my (then) father-in-law, Sam Strong, and a friend of his every year for big game hunting out west. I was stationed in Yuma Arizona and Sam and Harv Hurley (who was about my age) would fly from New York State to Colorado where I would drive to meet them with my Dodge pickup truck and Camper. We spent 10 days on this hunt every year for 3 years, traveling to western Colorado, Utah and Wyoming to hunt Mule Deer, Elk and Antelope. In the process, Harv and I became good friends.
In 1976 or 1977, I had occasion to be back on the East Coast due to a temporary assignment by the Marine Corps and while there, was invited to Harv’s home to meet his wife Sherry, and two children, Doug and Dean Hurley. Doug was ten or eleven and Dean a couple years younger. Doug was a very bright young man and I was taken by his inquisitive nature. For about two hours he and I spoke one-on-one about flying, fighter pilots and the Marine Corps. He was enthralled by the descriptions and so, when I got back to Arizona, I sent him some pictures of the F-4 Phantom (the airplane I flew) and several squadron patches. I thought nothing more of it.
Distances and differing time and place over the years relegated Harv’s and my friendship to become but a pleasant memory. I never saw he or his son, Doug again after 1978, but I did find out via a telephone call from Harv in 1989 that Doug had graduated from Tulane University, was commissioned via ROTC as a 2nd Lieutenant in the Marine Corps and was then going through Naval Aviation training to become a pilot. About five years ago I learned from other friends that Doug had been accepted into NASA’s Astronaut program and through the wonders of the internet, followed his activities in that role.
Fast forward to July 5th, 2011 and our return from Syracuse to Orlando. It is late afternoon and our 4:10 pm flight is delayed about two hours. Christine and I walk past a few gates to a bar and grill in the terminal to get a bite to eat. We take our food from the bar and sit down to eat at a group of tables just outside the entrance. There are 8 or 10 people sitting in the area, but I make no eye contact with any of them and most have their backs to me.
The upcoming launch of the space shuttle rests lightly in the back of my mind but my primary focus is simply on getting home. With no intent to do so, I overhear a conversation from a younger couple with two small children sitting behind me, “Doug is in quarantine but we can see him briefly tomorrow before he begins final preparation for launch.” Doug? Launch? Perhaps these folks are flying to Orlando to attend the space shuttle launch and know Doug Hurley. Impulsively I spin my head around and say to the husband, “Doug? Do you know Doug Hurley?” he responds, “Yea! I’m his brother . . . and that’s his father (pointing to a man whose back is toward me) and that’s his mother!” Wow! I can’t believe it. This has to be Dean Hurley and his folks, Harv and Sherry! I stand up and walk around so Harv can see me. Looking him straight in the eye, I watch his face as the data processor in his head begins seeking some familiarity or recognition, but it has been too many years . . . “I’m Dick Ward!” Quickly the look of recognition comes across his face, he breaks into a big smile and his eyes sparkle. I turn to his wife and say (rather pensively because I too have my own foggy memory to contend with), “and you must be Sherry.” She nods yes, I introduce Christine then we begin a rapid fire conversation. They are on the same flight as we are, heading to Orlando to watch the launch of the shuttle, piloted as I knew, by their son. What an incredible coincidence!
Harv asked me if we had tickets and the answer was no. He said the Astronauts are given a number of tickets to distribute to friends and family but Doug has none left. If I am interested, however, he will ask Doug if there is any way we can get a couple. I give Harv my contact information and by now it is time to board. We exchange good-bye’s and part company. At the bag check in Orlando, Harv says he’ll give me a call if he can arrange to get tickets.
Wednesday afternoon when I get home, there’s a message on the answering machine. He has been able to get a ticket; only one but it is mine if I want it. Christine and I discuss the situation and she urges me to go by myself. Before I can call him back, he calls again. He was able to wrangle another ticket from someone who had to cancel so now he has two tickets and a VIP parking pass! We just have to figure out how to get them. Harv suggests that we join he and Sherry at an Astronaut reception to be held near the Kennedy Space Center on Thursday afternoon. The Astronauts traditionally host these events for friends and family even though they are quarantined and cannot attend. Sounds like a great plan, so we drive down to Cape Canaveral on Thursday afternoon to attend the function and get the tickets from Harv. It was a great time and we got to visit with a couple other Astronauts who “stand in” for the quarantined host.
And one other pleasant surprise occurred there. We ran into Marie Strong and her daughter, Louise. Marie is Donald Strong’s wife. Don, who passed away last year, was a private pilot, fellow hunting buddy of both Harv and I and one of the finest men I have ever known. Because of their friendship with the Hurley’s Marie and Louise had come from New Mexico for the launch as well and it was a delight to see them again.
And one other pleasant surprise occurred there. We ran into Marie Strong and her daughter, Louise. Marie is Donald Strong’s wife. Don, who passed away last year, was a private pilot, fellow hunting buddy of both Harv and I and one of the finest men I have ever known. Because of their friendship with the Hurley’s Marie and Louise had come from New Mexico for the launch as well and it was a delight to see them again.
The next morning, Friday, July 8th, we arise at 0-dark-thirty for the 60 mile trip to the Kennedy Space Center. Weather is bad and the radio tells us that NASA has put a 70% chance on having to scrub the launch. No matter, we’re continuing because if the 30% chance of good weather shows up, we don’t want to miss the launch.
The traffic is horrific and we stop and go for about two hours covering only two miles while we are but 6 miles from the center. Eventually it opens up a bit and we make the parking lot in time to board the buses marked for “Crew Guest LTT STS-135” ticket holders. The bus takes us out to a special viewing area set up with tents, chairs and food vendors about 6 miles away from the launch pad. The view is unobstructed and a perfect vantage point to observe the launch. There are loudspeakers set up so we can hear all the radio transmissions between various launch agencies and the crew as well as the count down.
The launch is scheduled for 11:26 am. About 10:00, the weather breaks slightly and the voices on the loudspeaker start sounding more optimistic about the launch actually going. It continues to clear and eventually, although there is still a significant cloud cover, there is no rain and Mission Control deems the ceiling high enough to enable an emergency return and landing if necessary. At about 11:05 we hear, “Weather systems are acceptable - do all concur?” That was followed by a response from perhaps 10 different agencies between Launch Control, Houston and Kennedy Space Center. The weather is good enough and all systems are (so far) GO! We’re going to have a launch!
We continue to hear Doug Hurley, the pilot and Christopher Ferguson, the mission commander, running their checklist and enthusiastically commending everyone involved with making this, the 135th and final launch of the shuttle, possible. Ferguson, in the calm, cool voice we have grown to expect from our aviators and astronauts said, “Let’s light this fire one more time, Mike, and witness this nation at its best”, speaking to the Launch Director. It made everyone in attendance proud to be an American and part of this event. The only apparent glitch occurred as the countdown clock dramatically stopped at T-31 seconds. This was based on a lack of an indication that some “Vent Arm” had properly retracted and latched, something engineers were aware could happen, but were still surprised it showed during an actual launch countdown. We heard the engineers in the Firing Room discuss the situation and it was incredible how calm and prepared the teams were for the problem. They simply verified the arm was retracted and latched with a closed circuit camera . . . and the countdown clock was restarted.
I’ve been around airplanes and aviation all my adult life but never have I heard anything that seemed so precise and well executed as this entire couple of hours. At T-5 seconds, everyone around us started counting down with the clock and at T-0, a huge applause echoed across the cape as we could see (but not yet hear) the engines fire and Atlantis begin her liftoff. I cannot find words to describe the sense of emotion brought on by hearing, seeing and feeling that final launch and knowing that someone I talked with about aviation some 34 years earlier was piloting it.
Who knew? That a young boy would talk with an adult he hardly knew, about a career he hardly knew, but found interesting. That somehow a seed would be planted from that conversation and his education and diligence would get him into the Marine Corps and the flight program. That his family would be on the same flight to Orlando as Christine and I on the 5th of July and that we would, by happenstance, meet. And that that meeting would renew an old friendship and get us tickets to a space shuttle launch, the very last one to ever take place, as guests of the shuttle’s pilot. Who could possibly have foreseen? This entire experience, from 1977 to 11:26 am on July 8th, 2011 represents a “string of historical experience” that is to me, beyond explanation but surely must be in alignment with some greater plan.
NASA Photo of the Crew: Rex Walheim, Doug Hurley, Chris Ferguson and Sandra Magnus
