The site is in flux, even at this late date. Fourteen plus years of administrating and coding have sent all of
the staff through the wringer in more ways than one. Admin is not the easiest with which to work, but we still
plod along as instructed.
"Two of the three phobias relate to my day to day life. The wind is one and hydrogen is the other. Let me describe
the wind and its pull upon me as well as the manner in which it affects.
The range was made up of several long, narrow rooms, three of which comprised the HFFF and were laid out
end-to-end. The gun and shock tunnel passed through all three of these rooms and were roughly four hundred feet
long when fully assembled. The three rooms are the gun room, test section, and combustion room. The components of
the entire system pass through the blast walls. Each room has several supply and exhaust fans across the roof for
ventilating before, during and after testing. In a single room, the fans are capable of completely flushing the
volume of air in less than one minute. This is necessary due to the hazardous nature of the combustion and test
gases -- most notably, hydrogen. The only points of entry to the entire range are a few blast doors which share a
single key, over which the crew had complete control.
I no longer spend time within the mighty test section of the HFFF. I now inhabit the remainder of the world with
the others. I sit at the desk, I stand in the bar, and I drive the vehicle. All the while I need the air
moving or I become extremely uncomfortable. Even in the office with the staff just outside the glass walls, I
am fearful of residing where the air is stagnant. Out of doors the feeling is worsened by the sun. Warmth without
wind has become the lion's share of my concerns. The sun burns and sends its incredible radiation like arrows
into my eyes and skin. The wind can cool me -- ever so slightly -- and the discomfort of the heat subsides.
Without the motion however, I sit in fear of smoldering like a leaf beneath the magnifying glass of the world.
Through the windows I saw history -- the significant accomplishments of the engineering and aerospace pioneers of
decades passed. I saw the images of the HFFF shadowgraph system, the prints of huge photographic and shadowgraphic
negatives from the Pressurized Ballistic Range which was demolished not long ago. I gazed through those BK7 and
quartz panes which upheld their optical flatness and clarity throughout years of supersonic and hypersonic abuse...
Thousands of experiments gone both good and bad, often resulting in the most violent impacts and ablations
conceivable. Hours spent longing to be outside, and typically unappreciative of the sacrifices and incredible
breakthroughs which enabled the pinnacle of manned and unmanned spaceflight throughout history. Upon the exterior
concrete walls were lists of velocity records, impacts of note, and the names of those involved. The ISS, Pioneer,
original X-15 and fantastic Apollo missions were outlined in specification and image. More, even. Many more. I
stared for years at the wondrous history within which I was so folded.
I saw others through those windows, as well. Technicians preparing for the tests, researchers setting up their
equipment, and the occasional visit from someone outside our group (usually a safety engineer). From the inside,
everyone looks the same -- silent, moving lips and wondrous eyes. 'That cannot be comfortable'. No, it was not. And
over the years slowly became more difficult, yet somehow more rewarding. Each day and each test allowed me the time
to think of anything and everything. Throughout my entire tenure occupying that sooty domain, I viewed many faces
outside peering in at me. In the beginning the feeling was a bit disconcerting, as my position was that of the
lowest echelon. As the years passed, however, I began to feel as if I was doing something important -- critical,
even -- to the future of spaceflight and other research. I remained inside one of the most unique places in this
sordid world and worked to maintain and set up test fixtures the likes of which others cannot fathom.
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