NASA Johnson
Space Center Oral History Project
Edited Oral History Transcript
Neil B.
Hutchinson
Interviewed by Kevin M. Rusnak
Houston, Texas – 28 July 2000
Rusnak: Today
is July 28, 2000. This interview with Neil Hutchinson is being conducted
in the offices of the Signal Corporation in Houston, Texas, for the
Johnson Space Center Oral History Project. The interviewer is Kevin
Rusnak, assisted by Carol Butler and Sandra Johnson.
I’d like to thank you for joining us again today.
Hutchinson:
You’re welcome. Nice to be here again. Except it's hot.
Rusnak: Yes,
it is. Well, last time we left with Skylab, so I thought maybe we
could pick up with Apollo-Soyuz Test Project [ASTP] today and since
we have just, as you mentioned, celebrated the twenty-fifth anniversary
of it, it’s a timely subject, certainly. So why don’t
you start with what your first recollections of the idea of having
something like this was.
Hutchinson:
Well, we were coming off of Skylab, of course, and, frankly, the flight
director folks and most of the flight teams were really worn out.
Skylab, of course, was a seven-by-twenty-four operation that went
on for a year roughly by the time all the training and the [unmanned
portion]. Then, of course, once we got the vehicle in the air, when
the crews left, the flight control team can’t rest. We basically
had to keep right on going.
Toward the end, of course, the unmanned parts of Skylab were tough,
because we were continually dealing with what I would call mission-threatening
issues. We were losing the attitude control system slowly but surely.
These big control moment gyros [CMG], they have bearings in them that
were not behaving well. We were low on—the way a CMG works—I
can’t remember, were we real technical? We weren’t very
technical in this interview, were we? But, anyway, it doesn’t
matter. We had a thing called the TACS [Thruster Attitude Control
System], which was basically a cold-gas attitude system, full of nitrogen.
It had little jets on it, and you use energy in the gyro to control
the attitude of the ship. Then sooner or later the gyro gets to a
place where it can’t exchange any energy, so you have [to] dump
the energy out of the gyro. When you do that, it fires little jets.
We were running out of the fuel that was in those tanks, just used
it all up, not an anomaly. So the unmanned parts of Skylab were rigorous,
maybe not quite as intense as when the crew was there, but everybody
was tired. We all kind of went, "Whew," you know.
While Skylab was going on, Apollo-Soyuz was being discussed at the
political level. I certainly wasn’t involved in that, but Glynn
[S.] Lunney, who, of course, later went on to a lot of other great
things, who was a former flight director, was the PM [project manager]
on Apollo-Soyuz on the U.S. side. There’s kind of a club of
guys that ran the Control Center and a lot of respect for the people
who went there before. Glynn was getting himself involved in Apollo-Soyuz.
At first, the idea seemed to me to be a little bit of a stunt. We’d
done lots of rendezvous. We knew how to dock two things in space.
We felt like our system of flight control on the ground in the big
control center, we were kind on top of the world at the time. We'd
significantly—I didn’t ever get caught up much in the
beating-the-Russians thing, but we had very clearly surpassed them
in our technology push. We’d gone to the Moon and landed. They
hadn’t even been there.
There was a feeling, I think, among the—well, I had this feeling
that we were sort of giving away the company store a little bit. It’s
not a cocky thing. In our heart of hearts, I think we all felt that
we were way ahead of them, particularly in the way the Control Center
and the vehicles interacted and the way we took care of anomalies
and so on and so forth. As we began to dig into how to run a joint
mission like that, it became pretty obvious we were correct.
Their hardware was very, very good, but very—I’m not going
to call it crude, but not as advanced as the U.S.’s hardware,
by a lot. The most visible part of that was their lack of computing
horsepower. On the ground, in the spacecraft, as an engineering design
device, tools, like computational fluid dynamics, of course they had
tools, but the thing that struck me as we were just getting started
is, I was flabbergasted how far behind the U.S. they were in the computational
sciences world, in every aspect, in programming, in the machinery,
in how fast it was, in what you could do with it, and how they’d
utilized it. Of course, control centers and spacecraft in the United
States don’t run without a tremendous amount of computing power.
My first involvement was when we were trying to decide who’s
going to suck it up and go do this again, because, like I said, we
were coming off of Skylab. We all felt like it was—at least
I felt; I shouldn’t encompass all my friends in it—but
it was a little like a lark. It was going to be easy. We were the
king. Yes, we were going to let these guys come in and hook up with
us, but—and, of course, some of the powers-that-be had a much
broader agenda. We were right in the middle of the Cold War then,
still, and Vietnam was over. Gosh, we were struggling with other political
things on the other side of the world, and it just seemed like—I
must admit the space program, we went through all the sixties with
everything going on in Vietnam, and, as I said earlier in this interview,
I never paid any attention to it and neither did anybody else. We
were so busy trying to get—and this just seemed like another
thing—to me, it was not we were doing something great to undo
the Cold War or anything like that, it was just another space mission.
The one thing that I felt at the time really had merit was that two
programs that had grown up completely separate, with separate hardware
and separate people and separate techniques, and I mean grown up,
the Russians were running a very mature manned space program, albeit
with hardware that they had [first] put together in the early sixties.
They were still flying—I mean, the Soyuz had been launched,
my goodness. Do you realize here we are in the year 2000, they are
still using that exact same vehicle? Manned and unmanned. It’s
like as if we were still flying Saturn Vs over and over and over and
over again. And that’s not a bad thing. It’s something
they’re able to do from an economic standpoint. Their gear is
simple but robust, and they’ve flown it and flown it and flown
it and flown it. Boy, they know how it works and they know what they
can do with it. Well, just look, they just launched this huge piece
of the Space Station with that same vehicle. Well, actually it was
on a Proton, not on a Soyuz, but the Proton was flying back in the
sixties, too.
In any event, I never felt any of the "We’re doing something
great for the country," or "We’re going to help the
Cold War," or anything that. To me it was an engineering process
that had in its fascination the fact that you could take two very
disparate programs and build interfaces between them. Of course, we
had to build a docking module that would allow the two vehicles to
go together, which we did, the U.S. did, and pull that off.
So I got involved in it along with several other folks. I guess the
biggest really new thing, there was not a lot of—for example,
we had done lots and lots and lots of dockings in Apollo, in Skylab,
where we took a command module [CM] and stuck it on something, the
lunar module [LM] in the case of Apollo, and, of course, we did that
half a dozen times around the Moon and once around the Earth, and
we’d been docking things all the way back from Gemini…
So that wasn’t anything new to us, but what was really new,
and it was absolutely fascinating to me, was trying to integrate the
control centers. The language barrier was a substantial issue. The
crew—Vance [D. Brand] and Deke [Donald K. Slayton] and Tom [Thomas
P.] Stafford—worked hard at learning Russian and learned enough
to be capable of technical exchanges and conversational interface
and so on and so forth. But the flight teams did not, nor did the
flight directors. The way we got around that was translators. We set
up this scheme between ourselves and the control center in Moscow,
and it’s interesting, Viktor Blagov, who is now kind of like
the Chris [Christopher C.] Kraft [Jr.] of the Russian program even
now still today, was the flight director who was my counterpart on
the Russian side. The way we did that each flight director was assigned
a translator. And the translators came to us [from]—most of
them were freelancers who actually worked for the State Department
but on a contract. They had a personal contract with the State Department.
[M. P.] Pete Frank was the lead flight director, to my recollection,
on Apollo-Soyuz, and myself and Don [Donald R. Puddy], Chuck [Charles
R. “Skinny” Lewis]—trying to think if Phil [Philip
C.] Shaffer was involved. I'm sure he was. So there were three or
four of us in the middle of this, all with our teams, a little bit
different construct of the teams than we’d had in Skylab. We
kind of took the teams apart and re-put them together. You might get
a couple of positions the same, but it was kind of a new flight control
team.
The flight directors, we all had one of these translators. Glynn Lunney
had a translator, as the program manager, who followed him around.
These ladies, and they were virtually all women, I believe, were capable
of the most extraordinary—they could sit in a room like this,
and if you and I were having a very technical two-way conversation,
in real time they can listen to me talk in English, and suppose you
were the Russian person, and they can translate my English into Russian
as I’m saying it, so that the Russian on the other end of the
line hears my conversation in Russian.
The way we did that was, they were in the Control Center. I had her
plugged in right beside me [at the console] and the Russians had a
similar person in their Control Center. So I would talk to Viktor
in English. He had a translator on his end who could turn my English
into Russian. That was the basic plan in the beginning. I would say
something in English and my translator wouldn’t say anything,
and his translator would turn my English into Russian. Then he would
say something to me in Russian, and Natasha would say it to me in
English.
We worked that way for a while until it became very obvious that the
U.S. translators were so much better than the Russian translators.
I’m talking an order of magnitude better. Eventually the Russians
got so comfortable with the U.S. translators, that our translators
went both ways. The guy over there in Russia basically, they certainly
didn’t get rid of him, but he was in monitor mode. So he would
talk to me in Russian, and she’d tell me what he said, and I’d
talk back to him in English and she’d send the Russian equivalent
over to him, and that’s how we communicated.
We ran some really, really interesting simulations. The first few
were pretty crude, really, no problems, just trying to understand
how we could get the two places talking together. I never went to
Russia. Pete Frank did, the lead flight director, I believe, but myself
and the rest of the troops and our guys down in the trenches in the
Control Center, the Trench and the other places in the Control Center,
there certainly was some exchange, particularly in the environmental
control area and in the attitude control area in terms of systems
and who was controlling when the vehicles were docked and so on and
so forth. But by and large, they were flying a flight, and the fact
they were hooked onto a Russian vehicle was kind of—and we had
some ICDs, some interface control documents and so on, that helped
the interface between the docking module and the Russian vehicle that
established that interface and then and so on.
But by and large, I think folks would tell you, that were actually
down a level from me in the scheme of things in the flight operation,
that they didn’t know they weren’t talking to a LM. I’m
exaggerating a little bit. It wasn’t that big a deal. But for
the flight directors and on up, it was, because we were constantly
worried about nuances in the language. I’m probably not going
to think of a good example, but we would measure something in pounds
per square inch [psi] and they’d measure it in newton-meters—newton-meters
is an acceleration term; I mixed those up. But we were worried about,
you know, when somebody said something technical, like, "We’ve
got the hatch [pressurized]," our side of the hatch at 13 psi,
we really understood what they meant, and vice versa.
These ladies, I just had the greatest admiration for them. I’m
going to tell you a funny story about one of them in a minute, not
a funny story, but a story about something she did later. First off,
they knew nothing about space flight when we started. Nothing. They
were technical translators, most of them, by the way, educated in
the former Soviet [Union]—not educated in the United States.
These folks, their native languages, in most cases, were Russian or
some variant thereof. They came with us about full-time. We first
saw them about six months before flight, and about three months before
flight, they were with us full-time. I mean, they were our shadow.
Everywhere we went, they were at your elbow and, of course, never
in the Control Center without them. Their ability to do this technical,
highly technical transposition of a language in real time in a set
of terminology, and you know how we are with acronyms and the Russians
are, too. I mean they use acronyms just like we do. And the acronym-itis
that NASA has, that we have, couple that with the fact that all this
goes on in real time, and the fact that you’ve got a bunch of
lives at stake, with two separate crews.
You’re putting these two things together, and you’re cross-pressurizing
them. We had trouble with the docking probe and couldn’t get
it out or get it in—I can’t remember which. I do remember
that we had a lot of trouble, because, in fact, I think that happened
on one of my shifts. It may have started on somebody’s, or we
finished it or started it or something, because I remember having
a docking probe in the Control Center on a table being field-stripped,
taking it apart like you’d take a gun apart or something, trying
to figure what—I don’t know. We had one of those fairly
complicated mechanisms on the drogue part. I don’t even remember
the exact anomaly, but I do remember we had a very serious problem.
It almost fouled the flight up. We got around it eventually.
In any event, I would say that the translators were the most fascinating
part of the entire [mission]—not that doing the flight wasn’t
really great, and, yes, we pulled it off and the docked time was neat.
I got to do the pressurization of the two things and so on, the two
vehicles.
There was another neat thing about that flight. Deke Slayton was a
crewman on that flight, and Deke had had an issue, a very, very minor
heart issue for many, many, many years. Of course, he was one of the
original seven guys and an absolutely super troop, not with us any
longer. Everybody was really keen that Deke got to fly. It’s
kind of like when Alan [B.] Shepard [Jr.] got his ear fixed. There
were guys that really paid their dues over and over and over and finally
got in the air. Alan, of course, flew on [Apollo] 14, and Deke got
on Apollo-Soyuz. So that was another aspect of the flight that everybody
was cheering about, and I thought it was pretty slick.
Compared to Skylab, it was just a cakewalk. I mean, there were some
anomalies. It was nothing like that horrible thing we had to deal
with when the micrometeorite shield came off in Skylab and we had
to go in there and it was 100-plus degrees and all that kind of stuff.
There was no really big trauma like that, and it was over before you
could blink an eye. We got a lot of accolades for it because it was
such a contrast politically to what was going on in the world at the
time. “Yes, look at these space guys. They can just ignore all
this political riprap and go do something like this and pull it off.”
At that time, people weren’t too worried about the tech transfer.
That reminds me of one other thing. The Russians visited here much
more than we visited there, in terms of the flight teams. With all
the hoopla today about being careful about what kind of tech transfer
we can do and don’t do and what computers we carry out of the
country and so on and so forth, I don’t even know if the rules
of the U.S. Government would allow to happen what happened then. Although
you look at Space Station and, my goodness, there’s a lot of
data flowing back and forth between the two countries and the two
programs, so maybe I misspoke there.
But I always thought—I don’t know this for a fact, so
this is not a fact for the tape—but I always thought that they
didn’t have much of a Control Center when we started Apollo-Soyuz.
They came over here and looked at what we had and got to sit [at]
the consoles and got to get on the headsets and look at the ten-by-twenty.
As an example, all of a sudden—and we didn’t see much
of their control facilities in the beginning of Apollo-Soyuz, and
when we were getting ready in the ’73, ’74 kind of time
frame.
In my heart of hearts, I always thought they were just scrambling
to try and put something together that they knew was going to be publicly
somewhat visible when we finally flew, that looked like the U.S. Control
Center. But it never really did a lot of the stuff ours did. It didn’t
have all the really neat com [communications]. They did have a rear
projection computer thing, but I always thought it might have been
some kind of a hokey deal like we used to have down in the Mercury
Control Center in the Cape. So that didn’t bother me, because
eventually we sort of became friends with them, and said, well, we’re
all sort of doing the same thing and we ought to learn from each other.
But I’ve always thought that the Russians improved their flight
operation capability, and particularly the ground segment, tremendously
by their involvement in Apollo-Soyuz.
I think they copied our techniques. I think they looked at the way
we did procedures. I think they looked at the air-ground interface
where crews had instant access to lots and lots of help and lots of
data. For an example, I think the Russians would have had a very,
very difficult time with something like Apollo 13. If they would have
had a crew that was up there and away from contact from the ground
and a long ways away from home and had a very, very difficult anomaly—and
I don’t mean that derogatorily—I think they were using
the—and, again, a lot of it has to do with the computing horsepower
they had in the Control Center, how much data they were collecting
on their spacecraft in terms of telemetered information and so on
and so forth. And I don’t know that for a fact in any way, shape,
or form. It’s just a gut feel I have based on their reactions
and the interfaces that we had with them during that time.
The story I wanted to tell you about one of the translators. Shortly
after we pulled off of Apollo-Soyuz, one of those ladies— and
was it, gosh, I’m not going to remember names. Son of a gun.
Well, I guess the name is not as important as the event. Translated
real time open-heart surgery between Moscow and [Dr. Michael] DeBakey’s
place down in downtown Houston. Can you imagine that? And this is
woman who is not an M.D., who doesn’t know that technical lingo
either, and translated a person giving directions on an operation
to a person with a knife in his hand on the other end of the line.
Pretty damn amazing, those women.
By the way, one of the interesting things is that they could burn
out. You could, toward the end of a long day, that business of taking
in something in one language and spitting it out in another, just
intense, mental. I just marveled at them.
Rusnak: They
sound like quite an amazing group of women there.
Hutchinson:
It was, and when the flight was over, they just kind of went back
to their State Department anonymous lives and I have never seen an
exchange from any of them or anything since. I don’t know if
Glynn or Pete or any of the other guys who had a translator assigned
to them ever had any contact with them after the flight, because when
the flight was over, NASA was going its own way, and the Russians
were going their own way, and we were working like mad trying to get
the Shuttle in the air, and things weren’t going real well.
So we just turned our attention to something completely different,
and they weren’t part of our lives or our teams or our workday
or anything anymore.
Rusnak: Did
you at the time see any future for this kind of interaction with the
Russians?
Hutchinson:
You know, I have to admit personally I really didn’t, and I
didn’t think much about it. I said at the start of this discussion
on Apollo-Soyuz, I thought it was kind of stunt. It obviously was
more than a stunt. From a flight operations standpoint, we absolutely
proved that we could do two very different vehicles and different
languages and different countries and get them together. There was
certainly no vision in my mind. Somebody may have had a grander plan.
I frankly don’t—I’m not sure. I think so.
One of the things we were doing was trying to keep our skills. Well,
there were several things—trying to keep our skills honed because
we were having a lot of trouble with the Shuttle. That was the time
in life when we were, well, then and even subsequently, we couldn’t
keep the tiles on the darn thing. We were blowing up one engine a
week in Mississippi [Mississippi Test Facility, now Stennis Space
Center] and in [Marshall Space Flight Center] Huntsville [Alabama].
We were a long ways from having the Shuttle ready to go, and we had
extra CSMs [Command and Service Modules] sitting around that we didn’t
use, and a couple of launch vehicles to get them up. You knew, we
used the Saturn IB to do this with, not the big stack, but the intermediate
stack, the two-stage.
So I think there were other reasons, and if someone said—well,
let me give you an example. I would submit that no one said, “Hey,
we’re going to build a space station one day. We want the Russians
in the middle of it, and, by golly, what a great way to try it out.”
Well, maybe somebody said that. It certainly was above my pay grade
if they did, because I didn’t have any—and, of course,
I ended up being very much involved in it when we finally started
Station. The Russians had not been brought into it when I was in the
middle of it, but it, of course, eventually came to pass, and now,
gee, just last week one of their major contributions is up there and
cooking along.
So you could look back on this and say, well, when you look back on
it in retrospect of what’s going on here in the year 2000, and
their involvement in the International Space Station [ISS], which
didn’t use to be called that when I was fooling with it, it
was U.S. and there were some international partners. We definitely
had some international partners. We had Japan and Canada, Europe,
but we did not have the Russians, because in those days things weren’t
thawed out. Even though the Cold War was essentially over, things
weren't thawed out yet. Star Wars [Strategic Defense Initiative] was
still very much a deal. But you could look on it in hindsight and
say, “My goodness, boy, did we get a good data point there [in
Apollo-Soyuz].”
I think, also, when Station finally got going, even the part of it
that I was running when it first got started, a lot of the confidence
that the U.S. had that we could integrate other folks [because of
ASTP]. I mean, English has become maybe in the last twenty to thirty
years much more pervasive in the world, and, we’re not talking
about having Japanese translators in the Control Center or English
translators either. The flight crews, since the Russians and the U.S.,
or at least early on, are supplying the flight crews, there’s
a tremendous amount of language training. All the U.S. crews are very
serious Russian speakers, and the Russian guys are pretty good at
the English language, too, most of them, in the flight crews. But
we’re not going through any big hoo-ha to have translators hanging
around, a Japanese translator, a Russian translator, and some of the
folks that are speaking a language other than English as their native
language.
I think that in hindsight, the thing was a brilliant move. It established
that we could do something like that and do it very effectively. It
opened the door for something that a lot of us were—when we
went to the Moon, we had political will and we had money, and the
combination of the two, maybe one enables the other, I don’t
know, probably, in fact, it does—there never was a problem.
There were, of course, battles with the amount of money we were spending
and so on, but it was becoming obvious as we went through the seventies,
more and more and more obvious that the investments required in the
human endeavor to leave this Earth were, other than peaks like Apollo
were so substantial, with the returns on that investment fuzzy and
maybe a little far off, that we probably—we, the U.S.—probably
weren’t going to be able to do it all ourselves.
Once we demonstrated that we were king of the hill, how many times
do you have to prove that and what good is it? So there was a lot
of merit in beginning to change the thought process that manned spaceflight,
human spaceflight—called it manned spaceflight then. That’s
not correct today, politically correct. Somebody’d sue me, I
guess, if I said "manned." Wouldn't it be funny if the Johnson
Space Center was still the Manned Spacecraft Center? Somebody would
have changed it to the Human Spacecraft Center, for sure. In any event,
I don’t know how I got off on that. The Apollo-Soyuz turned
out to be, despite the fact when we were doing it, some of us thought
it was kind of a stunt, a very, very valuable step along the way.
Rusnak: Obviously,
as you pointed out, we have a lot of interaction with the Russians,
and it all goes back to this one early step that we made.
Hutchinson:
Interesting. I told you that I spent some time last night with Joe
[H.] Engle. Tom [Thomas P.] Stafford, who, of course, was the…commander
on Apollo-Soyuz, is still very involved with Station and that interface
with the Russians. He has a group of people, including Joe Engle and
a number of other people. They have a task force that’s chartered
by NASA Headquarters, that operates on keeping that interface smooth
and keeping it politically oiled. We have a few folks who are not
too happy in the Congress with our involvement with the Russians still.
Thank goodness we got their piece of gear up there and going. In fact,
as you know, the Station had two pieces up there before, one of theirs
and one of ours. They’ve now got more hardware in the air than
we do. Won’t have for very long, but they certainly do right
now.
Rusnak: In
between ASTP in 1975 and the first Shuttle launch in 1981, there was
a long period where the U.S. isn’t sending any humans into space.
What was going on here during that period and what were you doing
specifically?
Hutchinson:
Well, during the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo sequence, the flight
teams, those programs, [each] program overlapped. We were still flying
Mercury when we were building Geminis. So there was a tremendous amount,
in order to fly a flight and get somebody ready to be a person in
the Control Center, there’s a tremendous—we did drawings
of the spacecraft. We took the original equipment drawings from the
manufacturers, and we built our own that were used by the flight team.
They’re still doing that today.
That’s a very, very detailed engineering analysis process that
basically tries to functionally replicate the design of a system like
a propulsion system or an environmental control system, in all its
piece parts and to very, very carefully identify where the measurements
are on that system that the controllers are going to see in the Control
Center.
So each time, if you look at Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo, that sequence
of vehicles, and I know Apollo was built by North American Aviation,
and Mercury and Gemini [were] built by McDonnell-Douglas, but those
vehicles are a family. Apollo didn’t look quite the shape of—but
they all had Max [Maxime A.] Faget’s shape, who was the guy
who decided that’s how that thing was going to be in terms of
where the heat shield was and the basic conical design of the vehicle
and so on.
They were a family of vehicles, so even though the programs overlapped,
getting all of those people on the ground tuned up to how they were
going to monitor and aid and assist the operation of those vehicles,
once you did Mercury—actually, it was a pretty big step from
Mercury to Gemini because the amount of instrumentation changed a
lot. We got a lot better at what we could measure and how much we
could measure, and Apollo was even more than that. But they sort of
were a family. We had separate systems handbooks that were built for
each one of those and so on.
Then we flew Sklylab. The workshop had its own—it was a whole
brand-new vehicle. But remember what was on the other end of the workshop
was a command module, and, good heavens, we had had that data on the
floor for years and years that we needed. We had people who understood
how the vehicle ran and so on and so forth. So we did Skylab, and
we used that command module, and then we did Apollo [Soyuz]. So we
used it again, and, yes, we had the docking module, and it didn’t
have very much instrumentation on it.
Then we went to Shuttle. The Shuttle, in terms of sophistication of
its measurement systems, in terms of the complication of aerodynamic
flight, which we’d never dealt with before—you know, the
Shuttle is an asymmetric vehicle. It doesn’t look like it ought
to launch right, because it’s not a pencil. Some of us in the
early days wondered how that was going to work, not being an aerodynamicist.
In fact, the Shuttle, to this day, it’s a very tricky vehicle
to launch. It has to be pointed carefully in the right direction at
certain times or you’ll tear the wings off or tear it off the
external [tank]—it is not a casual launch process.
In any event, the Shuttle was an order of magnitude more sophisticated
in its instrumentation, an entire decade worth of computing—because,
remember the command module. Think about this. The Apollo guidance
computer, which was the guts of the command module in terms of all
of its guidance and navigation and so on and so forth, was basically
an early sixties' piece of gear. You think about where computing technology
was in, say, 1965. There was no such thing as a laptop. Hell, there
were people still pounding Friedan calculators in 1965.
Then we went from that to this five-computer, four primary ones and
one back-up one, and all of this sophisticated data-gathering stuff
and a downlink that just had more measurements on it than Carter had
pills. We had systems that—we’d never flown something
like—well, we had, but we had things like an APU [auxiliary
power unit]. It’s like in an airplane, the APU does the hydraulics,
which moves the aerosurfaces and the engine bells on the Shuttle and
so on and so on and so on. So we had new systems.
At that time period, I think that was one of the really neat times.
What I did personally is I went back—you know, everybody had
two jobs in the flight world. You had your day job, which was in the
office, which was you were a member of an organizational unit or leading
one. In my case, I was leading one, who had a set of jobs to do to
get ready to go fly. If you were in the systems world, you spent time
trying to understand the systems that you were going to fly. That
understanding was gained by building drawings of them and studying
them and then having simulations and practicing in the Control Center.
If you were a trajectory person, you were learning how the vehicle
went up and how to monitor it. You were devising displays to put up
in the Control Center and so on and so forth.
Now, when we went from the Apollo era, which included, in my mind,
Apollo, Skylab, and Apollo-Soyuz, they were all derivative, all very
tightly connected, even though the flights themselves were dramatically
different. It was a major step function in everything we were doing.
For example, during that time I ran a—I’ve mentioned Bill
[Howard W.] Tindall [Jr.] before, one of the smartest people I’ve
ever met. Bill Tindall’s the guy who figured out how to navigate
to get to the Moon, as an example, and how to get it into computer
programs on the ground and get it into computer programs in the air
and when we had to exchange information between those computer programs
and how we could track them on the ground and build a state vector,
i.e., an understanding where they were, and then get it into the on-board
system and re-anchor it, how to make inertial systems work.
Well, we had that same problem on Shuttle, and I was privileged to
get the chance to do for the Shuttle what Bill Tindall did for Apollo.
I ran an outfit called the Ascent and Entry Flight Techniques Panel
for years, started it right after Apollo-Soyuz was over. What our
job was, was to figure out how the interaction between the crew, the
vehicle, and the Control Center was going to work during launch and
during entry. The reason that we did them both in one—we eventually
split those panels apart. In fact, Don Puddy, I can’t remember
when, but Don took over the entry part. The reason we had them together
in the beginning, and we had them together for a long time, probably,
I don’t even know whether we split them up before STS-1, maybe
we did. The reason was, the team that launched them, because of the
abort modes in Shuttle, might have to re-enter them. We couldn’t
switch people. We couldn’t switch teams, so one group of people
had to know both up and down. Then we had a group of people, and that
was Don’s folks and Don, who specialized in the down only. If
the flight was nominal, in real life Don re-entered them.
Anyway, it’s interesting, the flight techniques panels have
gone on for years and years and years. I saw somebody over at Johnson
yesterday that was still involved. They’re still doing it. They’re
still refining abort sites and trying to figure out how to [optimize]
trajectories. But it was [a] very, very, very complicated process.
You had to integrate the launch trajectories, the engines where they
were pointed. Of course, there was a whole design process, ascent
trajectory design, going on outside this flight techniques thing.
We were constantly bantering back and forth. We, for example, defined
what was going to be said between the ground and the air during launch.
In other words, there are certain points in the launch where the Control
Center has some data the crew doesn’t have, or there’s
certain major events, like getting rid of the SRBs [Solid Rocket Boosters],
when you’d all like to know they’re gone. You can look,
but the Control Center never looks at anything unless it’s on
the TV [monitors], unless it’s data. We don’t look at
pictures there.
We went through a process during those years of figuring out how to
fly this machine and how to get it back and, of course, the aerodynamic,
the entry part of it was not casual. We’d never landed anything
like an airplane. There were things like gear-down and wheel-stop
and stuff like that, that guys running around, fighter pilots and
that kind of crowd knew very well, but, of course, it was totally
foreign to the flight control teams. The Shuttle, of course, is a
dead-stick landing.
One of the things, for example, that still goes on today, that the
whole energy management scheme on Shuttle which carries the energy—in
a dead-stick landing, energy is a direct function of your altitude.
How high up in the air are you determines how far you can go if you
don’t have any engines. So the idea is, here’s the landing
site and you want to carry the energy as close to landing as you possibly
can. The Shuttle has a very, very steep glide slope. It’s about
eight or nine degrees. That doesn’t sound very steep, but if
you were in an airliner doing that, you’d think you were headed
for sure death.
One of the fun things we got to do, that’s another story. I’m
getting way ahead of myself. But, anyway, all that design had to take
place, and how we set up this heading alignment circle, and how to
carry the energy very close to the runway and then dump it all right
at the last minute, to make sure you had enough, enough to get to
the runway because if you don’t get to the runway, you only
get one short crack at it, and you’re out of luck. The whole
concept of landing in a desert, because it was forgiving and, of course,
all of that was going on at the time. So we were learning how to fly
the vehicle and defining all of the flight rules. The Shuttle has
a lot of redundancy. So if you lift it off and something broke, do
you come home, or do you go on up to orbit and then you come home?
Or etc., etc.
So, the new vehicle, learning about it, trying to understand how to
fly it, and then on top of all of that, we had one entire group of
people, and Don Puddy headed this up. There was only one flight team,
and it was Don. I don’t know if you remember this, we had a
separate flight test program testing the very end of the Shuttle [flight
profile].
There was a Shuttle built—in fact, I believe it’s up at
Dulles Airport [Washington, DC] in a hangar these days, called the
Enterprise. I’m not going to remember the name. Was the Enterprise
the name of it? There was a program called approach and landing tests,
ALT, in which we put it on a 747 and dumped it off over the desert
and then flew it for a very short period of time. In fact, the guy
that I was out with last night, Joe Engle, was right in the middle
of that, he and [Richard H.] Truly and some others. We ran this whole
series of flight tests. The big Control Center here was really not
involved in it a lot. There was a small control center out at Edwards,
but there was a flight team and a bunch of flight controllers. Don
was in the middle of that in charge of the flight team business.
So there were a whole group of people doing an intermediate test process
or helping with an intermediate test process. Then there was a whole
other group of people who stayed, who didn’t get involved in
that on purpose, so we could go work the orbital test flights. They
were called OFT [Orbital Flight Tests] for a while, the first four
Shuttles. One of the big things in Shuttle is, when is it operational?
Well, it’s 2000, and, in my personal opinion, it’s still
isn’t. It’s an R&D [research and development] flight
every time you push the button.
So we were absolutely up to our ears in work. I was running an organization
that had all of the Shuttle systems in it. Somewhere along that time,
mid-seventies, I don’t know, can’t remember exactly, ’76,
I think, we started trying to figure out how we were going to divide
up the flight work. I drew the ascent straw. We started simulating—I’m
probably not going to remember this exactly right either, but ’78,
I would say.
The programmatics on Shuttle always seemed to have a launch date about
three months in front of us, for a long, long time. We'd just about
get to the point where we thought we really were ready to go do it,
and something else would happen. We’d have another problem.
Of course, the two problems that were most prevalent on Shuttle were
the tiles and the engines. We were having big trouble with both of
them, as a program. We weren’t, the flight controllers weren’t.
It went on and on.
One of the big problems in the Shuttle engines, we had cracks in the
blades in the turbines of the high-pressure pumps. It was a metallurgy,
combination metallurgy design-heat issue, and it was all Marshall
Space Flight Center. Marshall’s cross to bear were the engines,
and Johnson’s were the tiles. The engineering sides of those
two organizations just killed themselves trying to get those two problems
sorted out. Of course, the contractors, too. Rockwell was in the middle
with the Orbiter, and Lockheed had a lot to do with the Orbiter, more
than you’d think. They were the tile whiz kids under subcontract
to Rockwell. I wasn’t in the programmatic side of it at the
time, in fact, never was in the Shuttle.
While all that was going on, it was, what engine did we lose this
week? The flight teams, we kept thinking, "All of a sudden those
guys are going to get their act together. It’s not a matter
of getting their act together. They’re going to find all the
faults and get them sorted out to where they’re comfortable
to launch, and we'd damn well better be ready."
We probably picked the flight directors, I don't know, in ’76
or ’77, somewhere around there. Don was off running ALT, so
it was just natural he should just back it up and do the entry part,
and I did the launch. Chuck Lewis was the on-orbit flight director.
The three of us, we all put teams together. Don didn’t. Don’s
team came together real late because he was all buried in Approach
and Landing [Tests], but he did, too. We started practicing in 1978
for the launch we kept thinking was only a little bit in front of
us, just a little. "We've got to keep going, we've got to keep
going."
Along with the flight control teams getting ready, there was a tremendous
amount of work being done in the software development world on the
ground because we had to build simulators so the crews could train.
Then the simulators get hooked into the Control Center to simulate
a flight. Had to build all the software and the control complex downstairs
in the basement of the Control Center to get all that going.
In retrospect, it’s kind of like what just happened on Station.
You know, everybody fusses about the Russian delay and all that other
stuff. To be quite honest, I believe that we will look back on the
Russian delay and say thank God, because we got to put a whole bunch
of hardware together at the Cape and test it in a sequence that we
never would have gotten done if we hadn’t have been under that
umbrella of that delay. Well, the flight teams and the crew and all
of the people who were involved in the operation of the Shuttle were
thanking their lucky stars that we had the time to be as thorough
and complete as humanly possible, because we were under the umbrella
of this constant set of issues that kept the program on the ground
for three years, in essence, or two and a half years.
I think I must have run, I don’t know, 500 launch-abort sims
[simulations]. I don’t know the exact number. I’m sure
it was over 500. We got into a pattern, it’s funny, and Puddy,
too. We all did. Chuck maybe not as much as Don and I, but, of course,
a lot of mine include entries, because every time we’d abort,
we’d abort once around or get up there three-quarters of the
way and then try and turn around and get back. Well, you can’t
get back to the Cape three-quarters up, but anyway, a lot of entries
for me and a lot more ascents.
Of course, as time went on, the simulations, in order to test us,
they’d get more and more sophisticated. It’s an interesting
game if you’re running the simulation complex, just how much
trouble you can throw at a flight team before you bring them to—you
can bring them to their knees anytime you want if you put enough stuff
in there. So we had a constant thing going like that.
We got to be very, very close to the crews. We trained off and on
before STS-1 with both Joe Henry [Engle] and Richard—Dick Truly—and
"Crip" [Robert L. Crippen] and John [W.] Young. Like we’ve
done in a lot of other things, one little sidelight war story—we
had debriefings. You’d run a simulation. It goes well or badly.
You take notes and everything, and everybody pretends like it was
a real flight, and then you’d say, “Okay, stop. King’s
X. It’s over. Let's all sit down and talk about it.”
I had a reputation for spending too much time in the debriefings,
because I figure we spent the time running, we’d better spend
the time figuring out what we did right and what we did wrong so we
didn’t do it again. So, anyway, that’s kind of a joke
around the system, that Hutchinson’s debriefings were just awful
because they just went on and on and on. You’d spend four minutes
in ascent and abort the thing, come back, we’d talk about it
for an hour before we went again.
We had another kind of debriefing. I don’t even know if I talked
about this much in Skylab. The camaraderie that gets built up between
the crews and the ground, inside the ground team, is very, very important
and very strong, a big deal. One way to do that is when you get through
beating each other up, and, of course, we make mistakes and the crew
makes mistakes, and you’ve got to fess up because there’s
no hiding when you fouled something up, you know, somebody sends the
wrong command and the crew throws the wrong switch, it’s all
recorded there. Everybody says, “Oh, God, look what I did here.”
From a flight director’s standpoint, if you’re an ascent
flight director, there’s a little switch on the console. It’s
called the abort switch. It doesn’t physically do anything,
but what it does, is it puts a light on in front of the CDR [commander],
the guy in the left seat, that says, quit, abort, get out of there,
come back home. So, throwing the abort switch is a big deal. I never
threw it in real life, but I did a bazillion times [in training].
So there’s a certain amount of tension. That’s probably
not the right word, but getting comfortable with each other’s
judgments, between myself and John, and getting a communications path
that is very open. I’ll tell you, those two guys—and I
probably spent more time with them than I did Joe Henry and Dick Truly,
maybe even the four of them together, but particularly John and Crip,
I just can’t imagine, there’s never been two people that
I had more faith in. I’m sure that we had the same—I mean,
I had a lot of faith in the Skylab crews and the [Apollo] 17 guys
which I got to know really well, but maybe it was the long training
period.
One thing that is, of course, absolutely unique about the Shuttle,
it’s the only vehicle the U.S., or anybody in the world, has
ever built that was not flown unmanned. So we sort of had a lot hanging
out.
When you look at how the flight actually went, it’s just an
engineering marvel. I mean, the people who thought that thing up and
designed and built it, I give credit to every one of them, because
the flight team in real life, we had a few little ditties here and
here, we didn’t do a thing. Oh, we did, but we sort of sat there
and watched this marvelous thing go down. It just did it. It was a
little more than that, but it really, in all honesty—and then
you have to look at its track record over the years. Even despite
the Challenger accident, the vehicle’s a marvelous, marvelous
piece of gear.
But, anyway, back to the flight crew. We had these debriefings, long
debriefings, and then we had the real debriefing, which took place
at a place called B&Ms. You probably never heard of B&Ms.
B&Ms is a beer joint over in LaPorte [Texas]. Actually, it’s
not in LaPorte. It’s behind JSC. It’s a garage. Maybe
they don’t do it around here anymore, I don’t know it
is. Does anybody know about the Outpost around here?
Rusnak: Yes,
sure.
Hutchinson:
Okay, take the Outpost down about four notches.
Rusnak: That
bad, huh?
Hutchinson:
That’s what B&Ms was. As soon as we were done, we’d
all head for B&Ms—the cap coms, the flight crews, the flight
team. I’d usually get two-thirds of my MOCR [Mission Operations
Control Room] bunch and whoever else wanted to, and we’d go
over there. That’s where the real debriefings took place, B&Ms.
The sims schedule would allow you, two or three times a week you would
be running sims. Maybe not that much in the beginning, but certainly
toward the end, and we’d always manage to make it over to B&Ms
for a beer. It was a little bit like the Singing Wheel was, which
was a big hangout, and at one time the Flintlock was a big place around
here. It’s gone now. There’s, I don’t know, a pitch-and-putt
thing or some other crazy thing over there.
Anyway, that was a very important part of getting ready for STS-1
because the flight teams and the flight crews were very dependent
on one other, got very comfortable with each other’s capabilities
and how to communicate, just a really, really, really, really fine
team. The other thing, I guess, about STS-1 and that time period from
’75 till we launched, since, ever since, no one has had the
privilege of working that long with one flight crew on one problem,
because we turn them around so fast. I know we know how to fly them
more or less and so on and so forth, and so it’s not like the
first time, but that extended period when we kept having trouble,
we originally had the launch date set in ’78 and then it moved
to ’79 and it moved to ’80 and then, of course, we finally
got off in ’81. I’m not sure it was ever even in ’78,
but there were two or two and a half years of constant movement where
we had actually set a launch date and everybody said, “Okay,
let’s start getting tuned up,” and then “Oops! Nope,
we’re going to move it [the launch date].”
That time provided an extraordinary ability to get a group of people
integrated into a really tuned machine. Interesting that on my flight
team for STS-1, there were five future flight directors in the MOCR.
Of course, some of the people who are running the agency, Jay [H.]
Greene was my Flight Dynamics Officer [FDO] and he later became a
flight director. Gary [E.] Coen was my GNC [Guidance, Navigation,
and Control Officer], later became a flight director. Al [Granvil
A.] Pennington was my INCO [Instrumentation and Communications Officer],
later became—etc. All names who came on after we left and did
great things with the Shuttle Program and then went on to do a lot
of other things. Jay’s deputy manager of the Space Station Program
these days, for example.
Anyway, what were we talking about? The time before the launch? Yes.
Rusnak: One
of the things I wanted to ask about was the decision to launch the
Shuttle the first time with the crew on it. What did you think of
that?
Hutchinson:
That was a product of—I thought it was pretty sporty, and I
think if you ask Max Faget or Chris Kraft or Bob [Robert R.] Gilruth
or any—well, Bob was retired by then—but any of the people
who had been there and done that, they would all tell you that it
was a very risky proposition. They engineered the hell out of it.
We did everything known to man to make it safe, but "F=ma"
is very hard. And that vehicle, from a launch standpoint, is very
tricky.
When you get the vehicle going uphill and you’re still in the
sensible atmosphere, there are tremendous aerodynamic pressures on
it, and you have to get the angle at which it is going through the
airstream exactly correct or you’ll tear the wings off or tear
the Orbiter off the tank. So it has a very narrow performance corridor.
In order to get the proper inclination—when you’re in
powered flight, when the Shuttle takes off, it rolls. You’ve
probably noticed that. What it’s doing is getting itself oriented
so the Shuttle goes into orbit on its back. It goes in like this upside
down, with the crew upside down, like this. You roll it to get it
in the launch plane because of the aerodynamics. You’ve got
to get that roll out of the way and get that whole thing set up long
before you get to the max dynamic pressure [Max Q], which is—I’m
probably not going to remember all these things—which is on
up the road, way before you let loose of the SRBs, by the way.
That’s when the amount of atmosphere when combined with the
direction the vehicle’s going and the velocity—the velocity
at which it’s going is the worst. In other words, the greatest
aerodynamic force is on the vehicle. There were just so many pieces
of this thing. As you probably know, we had ejection seats in the
first four flights, when we had two crewmen. My personal opinion,
I don’t know, we tried—you know, we looked at all kinds
of things, like pad aborts and you blow out of the thing with the
vehicle sitting straight up, and they get enough altitude for a parachute
to even open, let alone—there were lots of things like that.
We basically installed rocket motors. We had no way to really get
out of the vehicle, to be quite honest. Once the solids are lit, you’re
going to go somewhere. Of course, we did design—I keep saying
"we"—the engineering community and so on, with Marshall
having a big role in it, JSC, too, because the level-two program office
under Bob [Robert F.] Thompson was here, another guy that I’ve
had great admiration for, really. I don’t know if you guys have
talked to him, but he’s another guy. I believe he’s living
here in Houston. Have you talked to him, Bob Thompson?
Rusnak: We
haven’t, but we’re in the process of arranging one with
him.
Hutchinson:
Yes, brilliant guy. There, when things were tough, of course, ran
the Shuttle Program and during the design development phase. In any
event, we did everything that was humanly possible, but the Shuttle
was a very difficult vehicle to fly. Apollo had the launch escape
tower, and it hauled the command module away from an issue, hopefully,
and got it to an altitude high enough where you could put parachutes
on it and drop it in the water, but if everything was cool. Really,
despite the ejection seats and the fact we had them and, jeez, we
had to arm them and guys had to wear a different kind of uniform—not
uniform, but whatever—that was not an abort mode that in any
way, shape, or form, the flight team or the flight crew, I think,
ever really embraced.
Once you lit the solid rockets as opposed to a liquid engine, which
you can shut down, there’s no turning them off. So we got a
launch sequence set up that started the mains considerably before
the SRBs. As you know, the main engines go off at about T minus six
[seconds], relative to liftoff, so you get several seconds. In fact,
you get them up basically up to, I don’t know, 90 percent thrust
before you decide to blow the bolts and let the SRBs go. So you’re
pretty sure you’ve got three good mains. As you probably know,
in the life of the program we’ve had several pad aborts where
we actually started the main engines and then shut them down and didn’t
go. So it’s turned out to be a pretty effective launch system.
We all knew that eventually there wouldn't be any ejection seats because
why would you have five people on board and only be able to blow two
out? Kind of silly.
So the unmanned versus manned thing, probably early on, I was a little
bit incredulous, thinking, gosh, this is back in the mid-seventies.
And, of course, that decision was made long before that. I suspect
that decision was made in the early seventies, probably ’71
or ’72. I was not involved in that decision, I was off flying
Skylab when that was done, but my suspicion is, it was absolutely
driven not by the fact that we thought we were so damn smart we could
do it, but by money.
Unmanned flight test, which, as you know, the Russians did with a
vehicle very similar to Shuttle eventually, Buran—I’m
not sure how to pronounce it—but the Russians did it. They lifted
one off, flew it around the Earth, landed it. Did it all, no people
on board, whatever. So it absolutely is something that could have
been done, but the cost was awesome. That’s a whole flight control
system and everything. It’s different. So I would like to believe
that as opposed to some kind of clairvoyant engineering judgment,
that was very much a programmatic cost-driven decision. Once it was
made, then we all put our shoulder to the wheel, including the engineering
folks who said, "We’re going to figure out how to make
this absolutely as bullet-proof as we can."
But in the end there were some—I’ll tell you a funny war
story about during the launch. The Control Center is a very quiet
place. I don’t if you’ve ever been in there when something’s
going on, but it’s like all of us sitting around this room,
probably not as much as noise as me talking to you, because everybody’s
wearing a headset, and everybody’s busy, and your work is right
in front of you. People will come up and get up from your console
and go talk to the guys staying at this console once in a while or
whatever, but particularly during a critical phase in the mission,
like a launch, there’s a pall that descends over the place.
You could hear a pin drop in there. Nobody’s moving. Nobody’s
getting up. People are talking. We’re having conversations.
Capcom’s [capsule communicator] talking to the crew. I’m
talking to the capcom. It’s business. There’s no smoke
and fire. Nobody’s watching the big rocket go. I don’t
know if you’ve ever seen a launch at the Cape. It’s physiologically
quite an experience, even if you’re on the ground. There’s
none of that that goes on in the Control Center. It’s watching
numbers and plots and stuff like that. Of course, part of simulations
is to get you into a mode where it’s unemotional. You’re
just doing your job. It’s a set of numbers. As I’ve said,
we’d run hundreds and hundreds of practices, so we felt like
we knew what we were doing and it felt like we’d done every
"what if" we could possible do.
So we get to the real day. Of course, we had a couple of false starts.
We had that big problem with the computers; backup and prime getting
out of sync. In any event, we finally got to real launch, and "three,
two, one, zero," and away we go. We’re going uphill and
we’re doing our thing. We had certain places in the sequence
where we made deliberate calls to the crew and the crew made deliberate
calls to us about things that happened.
When you’re going through this period—I can give you an
example. When you’re going through this period of max aerodynamic
pressure, the engines are throttled back to lower the velocity just
a tad during that time period, so you don’t get quite so much
pressure. Then they’re throttled back up to 100 percent. The
Shuttle engines are variable thrust, within reason, not a lot.
So we had a call, an air-ground call, where the Control Center looked
at the engines after they came out of the throttled bucket and said,
“Go [at] throttle-up.” That’s a typical—if
it was no-go with throttle-up, you knew we had trouble. That was a
call between the air-ground [control center to crew]. In fact, I think
it’s being done to this day.
So the Control Center is a very precise, very quiet, very businesslike,
absolutely dead-silent place. So this is going on. The launch is going,
right? We’re going uphill, and we get through max Q and it looks
good. We’re go with throttle-up, and it looks good. We’re
coming up to SRB sep [separation]. In significant events, like the
first launch of the first Shuttle, there are some people around that
wouldn’t normally be in the Control Center. There are very few
of them, but Max [Faget] was in the Control Center, sitting at the
PAO [Public Affairs Office] console, one console over and one console
behind me. Chris was there sitting behind me, Kraft. Of course, I’m
by myself at the flight director console. There’s no extra people
anywhere except a couple of folks like that, which it’s certainly
fine that they be there.
We got to staging. Max jumped up and screamed, “They’re
off!” And he scared the living bejeesus out of everybody in
the Control Center. Chris turned around and said, “Max, for
chrissake, sit down,” or something like that. I don’t
remember exactly what he said, but I’m telling you, he scared
me to death. It’s because that place, it’s this quiet,
businesslike whatever. Of course, Max was so ecstatic. The SRBs were
a real big deal, and the aerodynamics we’d just been through.
It was ten years of his engineering design life being turned into
an absolute success there, and he lost it, sort of. Never forgot that.
There’s lots of good war stories like that.
In any event, yes, we did launch. Dan [Daniel C.] Brandenstein was
my capcom, another really great troop. He still lives here in Houston,
who ended up flying the Shuttle many times, I think three or four,
before he finally retired. Great guy. Dan ended up, it’s interesting,
the original astronaut class of ’78 formed the nucleus of the
whole Shuttle astronaut corps, thirty-five folks, both mission specialists
and front-seaters. Rick [Frederick H.] Hauck was the first guy in
that class to fly. He flew STS-7 or -8, something like that, and then
Dan was the second. Maybe there wasn’t an exact pecking order,
but I can tell you, at that time in the program those two guys represented
the absolute cream of the crop in that bunch. Rick Hauck was Don Puddy’s
cap com, and Dan was mine, which is another indication of the strength
that those teams that launched and operated on and brought back STS-1,
we had absolutely the very best group of people that we could put
together in the whole world, on the ground and in the air. And it
all worked.
Let’s see. Where are we time-wise? Oh, my goodness.
Rusnak: After
STS-1 got into orbit, they had some problems with tiles missing.
Hutchinson:
Yes, we did. The tile issue on orbit was worked offline. There was
some work done in the Control Center, but worked offline in a very
sensitive way because—I need to be careful what I say here.
I’m not even sure what I should say. There were techniques available
outside of NASA to understand exactly where the tiles were missing
and how many. They were used, and it became a non-issue. So the flight
team, we did some— several of them fell off during launch, and
so some of them we knew where they were. The flight team did some
work on that, but, frankly, that was an offline exercise that the
answers were then brought back into the flight team, not to worry.
We did not have a great deal to—we worried about it until we
got answers back, but there wasn’t a heck of a lot that the
flight team really could have done about that.
There was some scrambling around to look at what equipment was inside
the vehicle near the places where the tile were gone. I don’t
even, frankly, remember exactly where they were. I remember a couple
of them were in the back. One of the them was up on one of the OMS
[orbital maneuvering system] pods. My recollection of the tile issue
on STS-1 was just that the flight teams were not particularly overwhelm[ed].
If anybody was involved much, it was Don Puddy, because it was his
bunch that had to deal with it. Again, the problem was worked offline
and it didn’t take them very long to figure out that we were
okay.
Yes, I thought after we got in orbit—I had the neatest job,
of everybody. I mean, I couldn’t relax, but when my part of
that thing went down, the part I was involved in went down, and it
went so well and after all of the training on the really bad things
that could have happened to us on the way uphill, and it all came
off, I felt, probably not relief, but I felt a little bit like we
did after 13 or maybe after 11, like we kind of beat the machine.
We overcame it. We really didn’t, because we didn’t do
a darn thing, except pretty much watch it. But it did go very well.
One of the things the Shuttle does is when it comes back, there’s
a fairly large ionization sheath around the Shuttle, heat shield around
the bottom of the Shuttle, and it’s so significant you can’t
communicate with them. So that was another piece—of coming out
of what we call blackout. It was another piece of drama that was always
there, kind of [like] launch, that until it really happened, you weren’t
really very comfortable.
Of course, I had ensuing shifts on the flight, but in terms of issues
and the like, the ones we were working on were pretty benign. The
flight team didn’t get involved in the tile real big. In the
end, I had a good time. It was kind of like I’d given my speech
and I could then sit back and watch the other people give theirs,
so to speak.
Of course, we got to do it again on STS-2 and -3. STS-2 was the first
time for the second time. Never in the history of space flight had
a vehicle ever been used twice. There was a fair amount of concern
there. Of course, we had a problem on 2, which the flight team handled
really nicely, I think. We got done what we needed to do. We got the
second time done safely and proved that, hey, we really do have a
reusable vehicle here. Then the program went on.
I have to tell you one more war story. In fact, I told it to a group
of about 500 people yesterday. We had some of my troops down here
together in a room. We were talking about the upcoming sequence on
Station, which is a very, very—I think what’s going on
now in Station is just as tough as launching the first Shuttle or
landing on the Moon or whatever, this next five or six flights. We
were having a little talk about that. This story I’m about to
tell you, which is absolutely true, we got [to] the end of STS-1,
and the Control Center has a tendency, when the flight is over, it’s
a little like a prize fight, you just knock somebody out when you’re
successful. It’s one of those that you’ve been training
and training and training, and then you go do it, and you fight the
good fight and you win; i.e., the mission was a success. There’s
a certain amount of euphoria goes on until you figure out, hey, I've
got to get ready for the next one two weeks or a month down the road
or whatever. Of course, STS-1, there was a lot of hoopla after the
flight, a great deal of stuff. I got to go to the White House and
meet the President. We had a luncheon at the White House. It was really,
really quite something, the aftermath. I’d never seen anything
like that in any event in my roles and things. But that’s neither
here nor there.
So we got on the ground, and, of course there’s great jubilation
in the Control Center. Used to be, everybody lit up cigars. We used
to smoke cigars in the Control Center. In fact, back in Gemini and
Apollo, when we built the Control Center, we had ashtrays built into
the consoles and the like. It’s kind of like when the Control
Center was first built—I told this story to a number of people,
and I’m virtually certain it’s true—it didn’t
have a woman’s bathroom in it. Try that on, considering what
they’ve accomplished in that room since and who’s done
it.
So there were some cigars around unlit, and everybody was just absolutely
ecstatic. One thing Don did that I didn’t, that was, if I’d
been him, I don’t know if I’d done it, he let a lot of
other people come into the Control Center and sit down and plug in
during the entry, including me. I was sitting right beside him, or
over to the side of him. You have to be plugged into something. If
you don’t have your headset plugged in, there’s only a
finite number of plugs. So we were all in the MOCR when the entry
was over, when landing was over.
There was a lot of pressure in the ascent thing to have extra folks
in there, people who wanted to be there in the MOCR. I shut it off.
Of course, I couldn’t control Max and Chris. They could go anywhere
they want. They could plug into my console they wanted to. And there
were a couple of other guys like that, that were there. On balance,
I tried to keep the ascent team, only the people who had a job to
do plugged in. Anyway, Don accommodated some of the other of us.
So we got on the ground and everybody’s screaming and hollering
and put up this big patch up on the front of the MOCR. It's a very
emotional time. All of a sudden you hear this banging. You know the
VIP room? This was in the old Control Center, and there’s a
VIP area behind. Of course, it was absolutely wall-to-wall people;
you couldn’t move in there. Chris, for the entry, was sitting
in the VIP room right in the front. So we’re all down around
the console, jumping up and down, whatever, patting everybody on their
back. And there’s this [knocking sounds] Edgar Allen Poe’s
tapping on the window kind of thing, and we all turned around. It’s
Chris, and he had taken a piece of paper, an eight and a half by eleven
piece of paper, blank sheet of paper, and a Pentel pen, and had written
on it, “We just got infinitely smarter,” and he was holding
it up against the glass. Never a more prophetic statement made.
You think about what that flight test did in terms of proving a set
of engineering concepts that were nothing more than drawings and people’s
ideas and whatever. In one fell swoop, we validated the whole thing.
Go back and think back only ten years or fifteen years before, when
we were running unmanned Saturn Is, unmanned Saturn Vs. We flew the
command module three times before we ever even put anybody in it.
We damn near lost one of those. It is just absolutely incredible.
The gain in knowledge and the validation of all the Max Fagets of
the world in that one short flight test.
Rusnak: Well,
if we could stop there to swap out our tape real quick. [Tape change.]
Hutchinson:
You were going to ask a question, Kevin.
Rusnak: No,
no, go ahead and finish.
Hutchinson:
Well, I was going to say, we launched STS-1 in April. Then November—it’s
quite a time between 1 and 2, but we had to go back to practicing.
We did some refinements on the ascent. There was some discussion about
what kind of changes we ought to make on the flight teams, and we
essentially made none. We flew 2 with the same crews on the ground.
It was me and Puddy and Lewis. We had the same players. We didn’t
make any moves because we were worried about the first time for the
second time.
Then as we moved on through the flight test sequence, there was a
four-vehicle sequence where we were using the ejection seats and before
we put any extra people on board and so on and so forth, and one of
the thing we wanted to do was introduce the arm, the Canadian arm,
the remote manipulator. There was not a lot of tuning necessarily
going on in ascent, but the rest of the parts of the flight envelope,
we were expanding how we did maneuvers, how much we used the onboard
systems in terms of how we updated the state vector. There was continual
learning process going on about how to operate this vehicle in a more
efficient fashion.
I skipped over a lot of very, very important events. Opening and closing
the payload doors on the Shuttle at that time was a really, really
big deal. Had never done anything like that before. An electomechanical
mechanism that big, in zero G they don’t weigh anything. On
the ground, in order to open the door, you've got to have all these
counterweights and pulleys and stuff like that. Of course, the door
had to be open to get the payload in. In the first flights we had
virtually nothing in the bay. Instrumentation, a lot of instrumentation.
Getting all kinds of stuff for the engineering community.
But there are lots and lots of things like that, how the water spray
boilers worked to control the heat rejection during ascent and entry,
another very important—water spray boiler’s a thing that
just crudely blows water out in a vacuum, it only works in a vacuum,
and as the water expands, it cools, it’s a coolant device. Batteries,
how the batteries and fuel cells worked. Of course, we had a fuel
cell problem, too. So there were lots and lots and lots of good flight
test stuff being done during these flights. We call them DTOs, detailed
test objectives. There was a constant push from outside the program
to declare the Shuttle operational. "Quit testing it, NASA. It’s
an airliner."
You know, at this time in our lives, although it took us four or five
months to get from STS-1 to STS-2, there was talk around that we were
going to be able to fly this vehicle twenty, thirty times a year.
Not talk; plans. And there was a constant programmatic pressure that
those of us in the operations world felt to "Get over this testing
thing, guys. Once you’ve expanded this envelope, this vehicle
has to be an airliner." The concept is up and down, up and down,
up and down. Put gas in it and let it go and get it back. Of course,
as we all know, the difficulty of doing that and the sophistication
of the vehicle and where the state of the art is and everything else—because
I think the Shuttle is not the edge of the state of the art in its
avionics, but in terms of design and the process of reusing it and
so on and so forth, it is. It’s interesting that here we are
twenty-five years later and nobody’s come up with a better mouse
trap, and I suspect it’ll be another twenty-five year before
somebody does. I think we’ll be flying that thing till 2030.
So we decided in the flight operation that we’d kind of get
with this thing, and so we cooked [up] this lead flight director concept
where one guy kind of oversaw the mission development, all of it,
all the phases. As was the case with the flight crews, we were very
worried that flying this thing so much, we’re going to wear
people out. So we had a plan to begin to introduce new people in,
all over the place. We had a whole group of 50 or 100 up-and-coming
young people who were moving into the back rooms and eventually getting
a job in the MOCR and then migrating into the flight director position,
the lead position in the Control Center.
STS-3 was sort of the start of that process where the teams that had
basically done those first two flight tests begin to morph into different
people and different leadership and different roles, and we begin
to try and bring some of the newer—we didn’t name any
new flight directors then. We were still just the three of us. Actually,
maybe we did. [Tommy W.] Holloway and some others started to come
into the picture then.
So I did STS-3 as the first lead flight director in the Shuttle Program,
and it was a kind of a different role, and conceptually we tried to
do things a little differently in terms of the way the teams were
organized and so on. That was my last real involvement with the Shuttle
in a flight operations capacity.
It was time to pass the baton. Myself and Don and Chuck had been flight
directors longer, active flight directors longer than anybody ever
did the job, over ten years. We were all flight directors for twelve
years. I know there were periods in there where we didn’t fly,
but the level of intensity, not as high as when you’re getting
ready to fly, but very high, doing all the flight techniques when
we were in that lull between Soyuz and Shuttle. I think we were all
sort of worn out. I felt like I had done every job there was to do
and it would be very, very hard to ever top launching STS-1 in that
environment and kind of career. I could never had done what a Gene
[Eugene F.] Kranz did. Gene is still a flight director today, I think.
He’s a wonderful person. He has stayed mentally and every other
way connected in that environment and in that framework his whole
life. I couldn’t do that.
So I was ready to go do something else. I told Chris that. Chris was
getting ready to do something else. The people who had sweat that
program through ten years of development and gotten it into this position
were all either getting ready to leave the government or were looking
at other things, so there was a lot of change going on in the agency.
I don’t know if I got caught up in that or not, but I was ready
to go do something else. I certainly didn’t want to go fly Shuttles
the rest of my life, although I wouldn’t have traded it for
anything. So I moved on. Cut.
Rusnak: Okay,
thanks.
[End
of interview]
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