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Subject: SPACE Digest V11 #338

SPACE Digest                                     Volume 11 : Issue 338

Today's Topics:
         Electronic Journal of the ASA, Vol. I, No. X
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: 30 Apr 90 15:49:33 GMT
From: mephisto!eedsp!chara![e-mail]  (Astronomical Society of the Atlantic)
Subject: Electronic Journal of the ASA, Vol. I, No. X


                        THE ELECTRONIC JOURNAL OF
                THE ASTRONOMICAL SOCIETY OF THE ATLANTIC

                     Volume 1, Number 10 - May 1990

                       ###########################

                            TABLE OF CONTENTS

                       ###########################

         * ASA Membership/Article Submission Information

         * The Mayall Four-Meter Telescope - Don Barry

         * Did Kepler Fake the Evidence? - Ken Poshedly

         * A Living Legend: The Alvin Clark Refractor - Alan Fleming

                       ###########################

                       ASA MEMBERSHIP INFORMATION

        The Electronic Journal of the Astronomical Society of the
    Atlantic (EJASA) is published monthly by the Astronomical Society
    of the Atlantic, Inc.  The ASA is a non-profit organization dedicated
    to the advancement of amateur and professional astronomy and space
    exploration, and to the social and educational needs of its members.

        Membership application is open to all with an interest in
    astronomy and space exploration.  Members receive the ASA Journal
    (hardcopy sent through U.S. Mail), the Astronomical League's REFLECTOR
    magazine, and may additionally purchase discount subscriptions to
    SKY & TELESCOPE, ASTRONOMY, DEEP SKY, and TELESCOPE MAKING magazines.

        For information on membership, contact the Society at:

         Astronomical Society of the Atlantic (ASA)
         c/o Center for High Angular Resolution Astronomy (CHARA)
         Georgia State University (GSU)
         Atlanta, Georgia  30303
         U.S.A.

          [e-mail] or [e-mail]

          ASA BBS: [phone], 300/1200 Baud.

        or telephone the Society recording at [phone] to leave
    your address and/or receive the latest Society news.

        ASA Officers and Council -

         President - Don Barry
         Vice President - Bill Bagnuolo
         Secretary - Ken Poshedly
         Treasurer - Alan Fleming
         Board of Advisors - Edward Albin, Jim Bitsko, Bill Hartkopf
         Council - Jim Bitsko, Julian Crusselle, Toni Douglas, Eric Greene,
                   Larry Klaes, Becky Long, Max Mirot, Paul Pirillo,
                   Patti Provost, Michael Wiggs


        ARTICLE SUBMISSIONS -

        Article submissions on astronomy and space exploration to
    the EJASA are most welcome.  Please send your on-line articles
    in ASCII format to Larry Klaes, EJASA Editor, at the following
    net addresses or the above Society addresses:

        [e-mail]
        or - ...!decwrl!wrksys.enet.dec.com!klaes
        or - [e-mail]
        or - [e-mail]

        You may also use the above net addresses for EJASA backissue
    requests, letters to the editor, and ASA membership information.

        Please be certain to include either a network or regular mail
    address where you can be reached, a telephone number, and a brief
    biographical sketch.

        DISCLAIMER -

        Submissions are welcome for consideration.  Articles submitted,
    unless otherwise stated, become the property of the Astronomical
    Society of the Atlantic.  Though the articles will not be used for
    profit, they are subject to editing, abridgment, and other changes.
    Copying or reprinting of the EJASA, in part or in whole, is encouraged,
    provided clear attribution is made to the Astronomical Society of the
    Atlantic, the Electronic Journal, and the author(s).  This Journal is
    Copyright (c) 1990 by the Astronomical Society of the Atlantic.


                      THE MAYALL FOUR-METER TELESCOPE

                               by Don Barry

        Since 1968, the Mayall four-meter (158-inch) telescope atop Kitt
    Peak in Arizona has been the premier instrument of optical astronomy
    in the continental United States.  In this article, first of a series,
    I will relate the story of a week I spent conducting research with
    the telescope.  Later articles will describe Kitt Peak itself and
    touch on some other major astronomical facilities.

        My first exposure to the Mayall instrument was through the
    pictures of ASTRONOMY magazine.  Because it was the first large
    instrument designed to take pictures of a wide field of view, its
    photographs of celestial objects have dominated popular astronomical
    literature for years.

        I arrived in Tucson on a Thursday evening in August of 1988 with
    my thesis advisor, Hal McAlister of Georgia State University, and Otto
    Franz of Lowell Observatories in Flagstaff, Arizona.  Hal had been
    granted five nights time on the instrument to make measurements of
    close binary star systems with the method of speckle interferometry.
    Unlike the five-meter (two hundred-inch) Mount Palomar behemoth, the
    Mayall telescope is operated by the U.S. government for the benefit of
    all American astronomers.  Time on the telescope is awarded by merit
    of proposal, as determined by review by scientific peers.  Therefore,
    this is the largest continental telescope which most American
    astronomers can aspire to use.

        Friday morning we left for the mountain.  Some eighty kilometers
    (fifty miles) outside Tucson, the Kitt Peak access road diverges from
    the highway, pointing straight at an enormous peak, capped by several
    white domes.  Suddenly, as if in a plane, our trail soared upwards
    from the desert, mounted by three hundred-meter (one thousand-foot)
    intervals as the desert landscape was replaced in shades by more
    succulent scrub brush.

        After nineteen tortuous kilometers (twelve miles), we emerged
    at the top ridge.  Before us lay the domes of the seventeen major
    instruments scattered around the peak.  Here are the storied
    instruments of astronomy:  The 1.5-meter (sixty-inch) McMath solar
    telescope, the 2.5-meter (one hundred-inch) McGraw-Hill reflector, the
    2.25-meter (ninety-inch) Steward observatory, the NRAO Submillimeter
    Radio Facility, the four-meter (158-inch) Mayall, and numerous smaller
    telescopes.  The few astronomers walking around looked like the
    Lilliputians from Jonathan Swift's GULLIVER'S TRAVELS next to their
    large domes.

        The Mayall telescope is situated ten stories off the ground, in
    a nine-story high dome.  We took our carts of computers and cameras
    up a large cargo elevator to its top, then squeezed ourselves into
    a small cage elevator for the final trip up to the telescope.

        Nestled in a massive three hundred ton horseshoe mount, surrounded
    by access ladders and platforms over three stories of floor levels,
    the telescope almost appeared diminutive in its shell.  We walked
    directly underneath the instrument, then out a ladder into the
    instrument room, which occupies the rear of the telescope tube itself.
    Our camera went here, at the Cassegrain focus of the instrument.

        In this room, perhaps, the difference between my past observing
    and this experience was most marked.  Instead of working over or next
    to a telescope, I was absorbed by it, standing with three others in
    the place where a "normal" telescope has room for only an eyepiece.

        Beneath us was a large circus net, protecting us from a fall over
    nine meters (thirty feet) to the floor.  Eight stories above, the five
    hundred ton white dome seemed like that of some gigantic planetarium;
    but here, the stars were far on the other side.

        Nightfall came to the accompaniment of a vivid thunderstorm.  A
    few morose astronomers gathered in the snack bar near the visitors'
    dormitories to swap stories and discuss their observing agendas.
    Outside, the desert floor 1.6 kilometers (one mile) below glowed
    faintly, while lightning danced downwards from clouds on a level
    with us.  Clear spots in the sky soon appeared; by midnight, it was
    time to start our work.

        In our control room, the instrumentation resembled that of some
    modern nuclear reactor.  Panels of indicator lights glowed softly,
    showing the health and state of the telescope, while buttons and knobs
    and a control computer allowed almost every instrument adjustment to
    be performed remotely.  Above these panels, the telescope was almost
    invisible through glass windows in the darkness of the dome.  Our own
    equipment occupied a line of desks.  Three computers and a host of
    specialized electronics controlled our camera, processing the data
    and saving it for later research.  Hal set out an ambitious observing
    program for the remainder of the night, and soon we were in the
    routine of observing.

        Our telescope operator, a member of the Kitt Peak staff, was Dean
    Hudek, a veteran of the facility.  As Hal selected a new object to be
    studied, Dean was responsible for programming the telescope's control
    computer with coordinates.  Dean also manually activated the fast
    motion motors, whose control was not entrusted to the computers.

        Each object came into view on a small television screen, and was
    then centered manually atop a blinking indicator.  At a keystroke, a
    mirror at the rear of the telescope was moved so the new star now
    shone into our camera.  Almost two thousand stop-motion pictures of
    the star per minute, all at extremely high magnification, arrived for
    processing.  Simultaneously, these pictures were fed onto videotape
    for archival, and analyzed by two computers to reveal the presence
    of possible companion stars.  After only sixty to ninety seconds per
    star, we stored our accumulated data on computer and embarked toward
    the next object.

        In our acclimatized, well-lit control room, we were almost removed
    from the world of the telescope.  To view out, we could wander into
    the open part of the dome itself to see a slice of sky through the
    slit, or else descend via an elevator to the glassed-in gallery level
    three stories beneath, or via two elevators to ground level.  Inside
    the dome, the telescope moved with complete silence and precision in
    the darkness, while the dome shifted with low rumblings to follow it.

        The catwalk outside the dome, two stories beneath control room
    level, is seldom used now since the death there of astronomer Mark
    Aronson in a freak accident in 1986.  We did manage to wander out
    onto the catwalk, led by our operator, to check the humidity one
    foggy night.  Ten stories up, the catwalk juts out from the cylin-
    drical walls of the building, with open steel mesh - and lots of
    air - between one's toes and the ground.  Immediately above, the
    moving part of the dome begins, arcing away from the vertical lines
    of the building beneath.

        The stars went by quickly.  Over the five nights, we observed at
    least five hours on each, seeing relatively clear skies every morning
    and two evenings.  Along the way, we managed to make a brief diversion
    to look at the planet Mars in one of its infrequent close oppositions,
    and to record data to later enable us to image the surface of the red
    giant star Betelgeuse in the constellation of Orion the Hunter.  We
    also entertained guests during part of Saturday evening's observing.
    Our friend Ralph Buice and two of his guests made the journey from
    Atlanta, Georgia, just to get a taste of Kitt Peak experience.

        The Moon, in full phase when we arrived, experienced a partial
    eclipse that first Friday evening, and then waned each subsequent
    night.  The final evening of the run, the Sun "set" gloriously in a
    sky of the most transparent blue.  With no Moon or evening clouds in
    sight, the stars shone down from the inky blackness of the Universe.
    In the control room, the combination of clear skies and a freshly
    aluminized mirror led Hal to order more and more difficult targets.
    Excitedly, we measured objects a magnitude fainter than had been
    recorded with a newer, fresher camera just two years previously.
    That final night, over 190 objects passed under scrutiny, and when
    morning came, the tally for the week's run had reached nearly six
    hundred measurements, ready to be archived for our team's research
    and that of later scientists.

        On the trip home, I thought about modern astronomical practice.
    Even in this era of computerized, automated astronomy, no other field
    has anything to compare to the mystique of an astronomical observing
    run.  Atop majestic Kitt Peak, in a cathedral of astronomy, it was
    easy to feel a step closer to the sky.

        About the Author -

        Don Barry, ASA President, is a researcher and Ph.D. candidate at
    the Center for High Angular Resolution Astronomy (CHARA), Georgia
    State University.  An active amateur and professional astronomer, his
    amateur interests include telescope making, antique instruments, and
    amateur-professional collaborative projects, while his professional
    interests include optical interferometry, binary astrometry, and
    innovative instrumentation.

        Don is also the author of the following EJASA articles:

        "Astronomy Week in Georgia" (August 1989)
        "Profiles in Astronomy: Albert Whitford" (September 1989; an
    interview with Edmund Dombrowski and Sethanne Howard)
        "Alar Toomre: Galactic Spirals, Bridges, and Tails" (October
    1989; an interview with Edmund Dombrowski and Sethanne Howard)
        "Observing the Wreaths of Winter" (December 1989)


                        DID KEPLER FAKE THE EVIDENCE?

                               by Ken Poshedly

        Remember when you knew you were right in high school science class
    but could not prove it, so you tweaked a little here and fudged a
    little there to make your experiment come out right?  Well, you were
    not alone.  It seems that this is a custom of science that goes back
    a long time - at least four hundred years!

        In a recent article carried by the NEW YORK TIMES newspaper wire
    service, it was revealed that Johannes Kepler (1571-1630), termed
    the "Father of Modern Astronomy", sort of "made up" some things to
    convince the scientific community of his time that his theory, which
    placed the Sun at the center of the solar system, was true.

        William H. Donahue, a science historian from Santa Fe, New Mexico,
    found that a chart Kepler prepared purporting to show that the planets
    travel in elliptical orbits and not in circles around the Sun - a
    theory held by the Polish astronomer Nicholas Copernicus (1473-1543) -
    was based on Kepler's own theory.  Kepler stated in his 1609 book des-
    cribing his calculations that the theory was confirmed by independent
    calculations of the planets' positions.  Instead, Donahue said, Kepler
    arrived the results by using calculations based on the theory itself.

        From time immemorial, the circle was the only geometric shape
    deemed "perfect" enough to describe the movement of heavenly bodies.
    Kepler knew he would be fighting a losing battle if he went against
    the closed-mindedness of his era and proved this assumption to be
    false.  Donahue discovered Kepler's "sleight-of-hand" while trans-
    lating Kepler's book, ASTRONOMIA NOVA ("The New Astronomy"), into
    English.

        Kepler used calculated data for the planet Mars as a case study
    for all planetary motion and claimed that his calculations gave the
    elliptical theory an independent check.  In reality, though, they
    did not.  According to Donahue, "He fudged things", and was never
    challenged.

        Today, virtually all astronomers defend Kepler and do not feel
    his acts are serious misdeeds.  "Kepler was one of the people who
    invented modern science," said Walter W. Stewart, a researcher with
    the National Institutes of Health who himself is helping the United
    States Congress investigate cases of scientific fraud.  "It's not
    clear his standards were the same as ours."

        Owen Gingerlich (born 1930), a professor of astronomy and science
    history at the Center for Astrophysics of Harvard University and the
    Smithsonian Institute in Cambridge, Massachusetts, claims that Kepler's
    action may have been a perfectly acceptable move to show stubborn
    colleagues just how true his theory was.

        "Normally, one would not expect there to be a rhetoric of science,
    or a political part of the presentation," said Gingerlich.  "But in
    reality, that element is very important."  Kepler's idea of elliptical
    planetary orbits was "a radical departure from anything before.  You
    could hardly sell that without making it look like you'd done it with
    tremendous accuracy," he noted.

        In recent times, Congress and scientific societies have shown
    considerable concern about scientific fraud, with new instances coming
    to light with increasing frequency.  Fraud is not a uniquely modern
    phenomenon, though:  It seems that several well-known scientists of
    earlier ages also appeared to have faked their results, probably to
    more convincingly show that their theories were in fact true.  For
    example:

        Galileo Galilei (1564-1642), who gave us today's "scientific
    method" and was one of the first to use a telescope for astronomical
    purposes, described sophisticated experiments even his colleagues
    doubted he performed.

        Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727), who formulated the now-famous law
    of gravitation, used some very manipulated mathematical calculations
    in order to prove his idea.

        Gregor Mendel (1822-1884), the Austrian monk who founded the
    branch of science known as genetics, published papers about his work
    with peas that some experts claim were just too good to be true.

        In the Kepler work, Donahue said a crucial portion of data used
    to prove the elliptical planetary orbit theory was "a fraud, a
    complete fabrication.  It [the proof] has nothing in common with
    the computations from which it was supposedly generated."

        Kepler's goal was to explain the work of Copernicus, who put the
    Sun, rather than the planet Earth, at the center of the solar system.

        Suggested Readings -

        Banville, John, KEPLER: A NOVEL, David R. Godine, Publisher, Inc.,
    Boston, 1984 (1981).  This is a work of historical fiction.

        Koestler, Arthur, THE WATERSHED: A BIOGRAPHY OF JOHANNES KEPLER,
    University Press of America, Inc., Lanham, Maryland, 1960.  This
    work is taken from Koestler's THE SLEEPWALKERS: A HISTORY OF MAN'S
    CHANGING VISION OF THE UNIVERSE, Macmillan Company, New York, 1959.

        About the Author -

        Ken Poshedly, ASA Secretary, is a long-time amateur astronomer,
    and maintains an ongoing interest in astronomical writing and
    historical astronomy.  Ken's interests also include education and
    Volkswagens.  A technical writer by profession, Ken has a degree in
    Journalism from Kent State University in Ohio.  Ken assists with
    editing and electronic management of the hardcopy ASA Journal's
    computerized assembly.


                 A LIVING LEGEND: THE ALVIN CLARK REFRACTOR

                              by Alan Fleming

        Museums have always fascinated me, as have objects from the past
    in general.  This is a common interest throughout the United States
    of America, as the growing number of museums and restored antiques
    will show.  I find, however, an additional thrill in seeing a piece
    of history that is still functioning.  With this in mind, I spent a
    Saturday night driving to South Carolina.  What greeted me there was
    a truly awe-inspiring telescope that has been in service, at least
    in some form, for over a century.

        On November 12, 1988, I was fortunate enough to be with a group
    from the Astronomical Society of the Atlantic (ASA) that traveled to
    the Roper Mountain Science Center in Greenville.  While I am usually
    reluctant to drive 256 kilometers (160 miles) on a Saturday night, I
    was all too eager to take this trip.  The thought of seeing an Alvin
    Clark refractor, even an extensively modified and rebuilt one like
    this, had me excited.  A group of intrepid society members and friends
    assembled at Fernbank Science Center in Atlanta, Georgia, at 5:00 p.m.
    and quickly arranged carpooling.  Arriving at Roper Mountain, we had a
    few minutes to meet with members of the observatory, and to look at
    the 58-centimeter (23-inch) Alvin Clark refractor and the beautiful
    Charles E. Daniel Observatory.  Then we met in a trailer/classroom
    nearby to see a presentation on the history of the telescope, along
    with some astrophotography slides taken by Roper Mountain member
    Jim Rouse.

        The story of the telescope itself was told by Doug Gegen, the
    center's astronomer.  In summary, he said that this historic telescope
    was built in 1882 for Princeton University's Halsted Observatory by
    Alvin Clark.  There it served for fifty-one years in its original form
    until 1933, when it was refurbished by the J. W. Fecker firm.  After
    this rebuild, only the original Clark lens remained from the 1882
    telescope.  When Princeton decided to move to a reflecting telescope,
    the great refractor was sold to the United States Naval Observatory
    (USNO) for use at their Flagstaff, Arizona site.  When funding for
    building an observatory was not approved, the telescope was declared
    surplus and put in storage.  In 1978, the refractor was purchased by
    the School District of Greenville County with a donation from the
    Charles E. Daniel Foundation.  Amateurs, enthusiasts, and professionals
    teamed up to restore the telescope and build a site for its use.  By
    1986, the 20,700-kilogram (46,000-pound) relic was where it belonged:
    In a dome and pointed at the sky.

        Following this presentation, astrophotographer Jim Rouse gave a
    slide presentation of pictures he has compiled in his years as an
    amateur astronomer.  Along with the slides of planets, deep sky
    objects, and solar eclipses, Jim gave recommendations on telescopes,
    film, and camera settings for astrophotography.  While most of his
    shots were taken through his personal telescopes, there were some
    beautiful shots taken through the 58-centimeter (23-inch) Alvin
    Clark refractor at Roper Mountain.

        When we returned to the dome to put the refractor to use, we were
    disappointed to see that thick clouds had rolled in, obscuring the
    night sky.  Alas, the experience of looking through the historic lens
    would have to wait for another night.

        Hearing about the telescope's rebirth was inspiring, since it was
    organized and accomplished by motivated amateurs and professionals
    with a common goal.  This should give hope to any astronomical organ-
    ization, like the ASA, which aspires to building its own observatory.

        About the Author -

        Alan Fleming, ASA Treasurer, grew up in the dark skies of
    the Florida countryside.  Alan now makes his home in Atlanta,
    Georgia, working as a computer systems analyst.  With his
    customized twenty-centimeter (eight-inch) Dobsonian telescope,
    Alan specializes in planetary and deep-sky observation.


     THE ELECTRONIC JOURNAL OF THE ASTRONOMICAL SOCIETY OF THE ATLANTIC

                          May 1990 - Vol. 1, No. 10

                          Copyright (c) 1990 - ASA

------------------------------

End of SPACE Digest V11 #338
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