First NASA co-op students share their experiences of a budding space agency
2013-11-19
Back when Interstate 45 tapered into two feeder roads heading into the extreme southern Houston area not yet dubbed Clear Lake City, five young men recruited by NASA landed in cooperative (co-op) education housing off Telephone Road to begin their fledgling careers in 1962. William Hogan, William Stuart, Clifford Hess, Thomas Buckler and Frank Burgett came to NASA with the collective, ambitious goal to engineer America’s part the “space race” against the former Soviet Union, who had years before shocked the world with the launch of Sputnik.
The young men were excited to be a part of the new space program—that is, until they first glimpsed their new digs.
“Back in those days, Texas used a lot of oyster-shell paving,” Hess said of the roads. He recalled thinking at the time, “I think I made a mistake.”
The Manned Spacecraft Center, which would later be renamed Johnson Space Center, consisted of buildings in different locations around downtown Houston.
“The main area out here was still under construction,” Hess said. “It was like going to po-dunk city. Looked like a big cow pasture.”
Indeed, before JSC took shape in Clear Lake, its residents were predominantly of the bovine variety—but it didn’t take away from the remarkable mission that NASA was setting out to accomplish in the early part of the 1960s.
“When we came aboard, the Mercury Program was in existence,” Hess said. “It was just an amazing time then.”
Despite the differences from then to now, some things never change.
As many co-ops do today, the co-ops of 1962 worked hard … and played just as hard. They were a tight-knit group who loved having adventures together, some which even included sky diving and horseback riding. The men also frequented Gulf Gate Mall (which had no air conditioning), and most didn’t have a car. Buckler also reminisced about a few excursions across the border to Mexico to watch bull fights.
“Couldn’t drink the water; had to drink the beer,” Buckler deadpanned.
Though the guys had their own set of problems in Mexico, for NASA, some things were easier due to the political and economic climate. The space program was flushed from the limelight and benefitting from the funding that came with it.
“Sometimes we found two to three different paths to solve problems,” Hess said. “This was our country’s survival at stake. It was a very important program back then.”
Of course, funding didn’t solve everything. It was still the 1960s, which brought its own set of difficulties. Engineers relied on archaic technology. Building 12 housed giant, mainframe-type computers that relied on punch cards to operate and complete tasks that today our cell phones would find effortless. Crayons marked valves. Safety was not the focus it is this century. Hess admitted that they did a lot of things during testing that would be forbidden now—but time was of the essence.
What made it all worthwhile for the co-ops of 1962? Not surprisingly, the iconic images we find inspiring today.
“Spacesuits, astronauts … it was the only place to be,” Hess said.
Recently, the first co-ops returned to JSC to tour the present-day facilities and share their wisdom with the current NASA co-ops, who face different realities in today’s environment. Becoming a co-op is highly competitive, with a surplus of qualified applicants and not enough openings to satisfy everyone who wants to be a part of NASA going to Mars or an asteroid. Those first co-ops, who were actively recruited, tell of getting to NASA through pure “dumb luck.”
Burgett recalled finding his original co-op application some years ago, looking at it and wondering, “Would I hire this guy?”
Burgett shook his head—a resounding no. Even so, NASA made it to the moon and back.
Imagine what our space program could accomplish, 50 years from now, with the men and women entering into science and technology fields—whom Burgett would have found worthy. The destinations could be unfathomable to us living in 2013.
Catherine Ragin Williams
NASA Johnson Space Center
The young men were excited to be a part of the new space program—that is, until they first glimpsed their new digs.
“Back in those days, Texas used a lot of oyster-shell paving,” Hess said of the roads. He recalled thinking at the time, “I think I made a mistake.”
The Manned Spacecraft Center, which would later be renamed Johnson Space Center, consisted of buildings in different locations around downtown Houston.
“The main area out here was still under construction,” Hess said. “It was like going to po-dunk city. Looked like a big cow pasture.”
Indeed, before JSC took shape in Clear Lake, its residents were predominantly of the bovine variety—but it didn’t take away from the remarkable mission that NASA was setting out to accomplish in the early part of the 1960s.
“When we came aboard, the Mercury Program was in existence,” Hess said. “It was just an amazing time then.”
Despite the differences from then to now, some things never change.
As many co-ops do today, the co-ops of 1962 worked hard … and played just as hard. They were a tight-knit group who loved having adventures together, some which even included sky diving and horseback riding. The men also frequented Gulf Gate Mall (which had no air conditioning), and most didn’t have a car. Buckler also reminisced about a few excursions across the border to Mexico to watch bull fights.
“Couldn’t drink the water; had to drink the beer,” Buckler deadpanned.
Though the guys had their own set of problems in Mexico, for NASA, some things were easier due to the political and economic climate. The space program was flushed from the limelight and benefitting from the funding that came with it.
“Sometimes we found two to three different paths to solve problems,” Hess said. “This was our country’s survival at stake. It was a very important program back then.”
Of course, funding didn’t solve everything. It was still the 1960s, which brought its own set of difficulties. Engineers relied on archaic technology. Building 12 housed giant, mainframe-type computers that relied on punch cards to operate and complete tasks that today our cell phones would find effortless. Crayons marked valves. Safety was not the focus it is this century. Hess admitted that they did a lot of things during testing that would be forbidden now—but time was of the essence.
What made it all worthwhile for the co-ops of 1962? Not surprisingly, the iconic images we find inspiring today.
“Spacesuits, astronauts … it was the only place to be,” Hess said.
Recently, the first co-ops returned to JSC to tour the present-day facilities and share their wisdom with the current NASA co-ops, who face different realities in today’s environment. Becoming a co-op is highly competitive, with a surplus of qualified applicants and not enough openings to satisfy everyone who wants to be a part of NASA going to Mars or an asteroid. Those first co-ops, who were actively recruited, tell of getting to NASA through pure “dumb luck.”
Burgett recalled finding his original co-op application some years ago, looking at it and wondering, “Would I hire this guy?”
Burgett shook his head—a resounding no. Even so, NASA made it to the moon and back.
Imagine what our space program could accomplish, 50 years from now, with the men and women entering into science and technology fields—whom Burgett would have found worthy. The destinations could be unfathomable to us living in 2013.
Catherine Ragin Williams
NASA Johnson Space Center