STS-117 Atlantis
Launches
June 8th 7:38:04pm EDT
(STS-117 lands at Edwards Air Force Base June 22, 2007) This page is dedicated to the memory of
Mike Dornheim who passed
away 1 year ago on June 3, 2006.
Many of my photographic accomplishments I owe to Mike and his aviation
knowledge. But more importantly I could call him anytime and discuss
all
kinds of topics for hours at a time.
For every Aviation Week Cover shot (not to mention the many inside)
I've
taken from the air, Mike was the pilot.
Many of you know about the B-2 photos and the story behind it, but
there are many of other photos that are not on my web site. One in
particular was when we flew to NASA's Johnson Space Center and, with
limited time, Mike let me go ahead of him to fly (from the left seat)
the full motion Space Shuttle Simulator from launch until landing while
he video taped it! I could go on and on but I just wanted to say that
Mike was just a terrific person and was such superb engineering writer
for Aviation Week & Space Technology. At the bottom of this
page
is the tribute that appeared in Aviation Week after is passing.
A beautiful early evening launch about 45 minutes before
sunset.
STS-117 Atlantis morning of the launch.
Engine 6 departs pad less than 12 hours until launch.
Atlantis's flag is raised on launch day!
The Astro-Van heads out to Pad 39A about 3.5 hours before launch.
Space Shuttle Main Engine start!
Liftoff at 7:38:04pm EDT!
Two birds scatter as Atlantis climbs pass the sun.
This photo and the ones below were all shot from the KSC Press site
about 3 miles away.
A spectacular twilight effect in the west sky after launch and was
almost as beautiful as the launch!
One hour 10 minutes after launch there was another twilight effect to
the east of empty pad 39A.
(Aviation Week & Space Technology)
A Tribute
Michael A. Dornheim 1954-2006
He
may have been the world's only forensic engineering journalist. Michael
A. Dornheim, who joined this magazine 22 years ago and died this month,
could explain better than any other journalist how things fly in the
atmosphere and in space--and, more importantly, why they sometimes
don't fly right.
Dornheim, who was both our Los Angeles bureau
chief and senior engineering editor and whose last article was the June
5 cover story, was killed on the night of June 3, when the car he was
driving plunged into a steep ravine in the Santa Monica Mountains. He
was 51.
Dornheim brought to all his work the qualities Aviation
Week & Space Technology editors and readers value most--accuracy,
balance, clarity and, above all, technical insight. Over the years, he
won a slew of prizes including three Journalist of the Year Awards from
the U.K.'s Royal Aeronautical Society. He's a finalist for yet another
this year.
The depth of Mike Dornheim's technical
understanding on almost every subject this magazine covers was
unsurpassed among the staff. Occasionally, it was unexcelled, period.
His reporting likely has helped save lives. He wrote about virtually
every major air safety issue of the past two decades. His work on
fly-by-wire flight controls, composite structures and fuel tank
explosions is cited among the best analyses on the subjects, not just
in journalism but in the technical literature as well. When a NASA
administrator vented his frustration with "foam-ologists" who were
second-guessing the agency's efforts to keep the space shuttle's
external tank from shedding insulation, we were pretty sure he was
fuming about Dornheim's stories. Mike was right, of course, and NASA is
still working on the problem.
Such reportage would have been
enough to make him a valuable asset here. But Mike also had the
greatest breadth among our reporters. He could write with authority on
the aerodynamics of forward-swept wings one week, the volcanology of a
Jovian moon the next.
The holder of degrees in mathematics and
aeronautical engineering from Stanford University, Dornheim began his
career in industry. He worked at Boeing on the 757 program and the
company's wind shear task force.
Joining the magazine's L.A.
bureau in 1984, he quickly earned both colleagues' and readers'
respect. One industry PR man tells of setting up an interview for Mike
with a manager of a large, complex program. After Mike left, the
manager opined that "Dornheim didn't really know what he was talking
about." Months later, the PR guy recalls, "Events made it clear it was
the manager, not Mike, who really didn't know what he was talking
about."
One of Dornheim's best known scoops involved flying and
photography more than research and reporting. In 1988, the B-2 stealth
bomber was to be rolled out at Palmdale, Calif., for its first public
viewing. But U.S. officials considered any glimpse of its saw-tooth
trailing edge to be too revealing of sensitive design information. So
they made sure the audience would only be able to see the aircraft nose
on.
That didn't sit well here. If Soviet satellites could see
the B-2 from above, the magazine's editors reasoned, why shouldn't
Aviation Week's readers, too? Amazingly, while the FAA was going to
restrict takeoffs and landings near the event, overflights were not
forbidden. So Dornheim, a private pilot, rented a Cessna 172 and
orbited over the rollout with photographer Bill Hartenstein. Asked
later how he summoned the nerve, Mike responded with characteristic
wit, "I just wanted to get the magazine to pay for some of my flying
time."
But Dornheim was best known for his articles, sometimes
lengthy, usually full of thoroughly explained inferences and often
accompanied by graphics that he himself compiled. In what may be the
ultimate tribute to a reporter, there were those in aviation and
aerospace who worried that technical subtleties might be misunderstood
and therefore insisted on talking only to Mike, and there were others
who feared Mike might understand too much and asked to speak with
anybody but Mike.
Says another engineer-reporter here, "Over the
years, Mike and I had some titanic 'nerd-wrestling' battles. When the
argument disintegrated into Reynolds numbers and enthalpy/entropy, I
threw in the towel." But even the most heated argument with Mike was
never the least bit personal. A true intellectual, he cared
passionately about figuring things out and not one whit whether his own
going-in position prevailed.
The same precision and attention to
detail that made Dornheim a top-notch engineer and reporter sometimes
made him exasperating to work with. His skepticism could border on
cynicism--especially when it came to software "solutions," "PowerPoint
engineering," "paper" airplanes and rockets, bureaucratic obfuscation
and marketing hyperbole. His nocturnal work habits, pack-rat office and
principled refusal to disclose his Social Security number were
legendary. And he always seemed to regard meeting a deadline as an
exercise in envelope expansion. But if people in our shop sometimes
pulled their hair out as he crafted his stories, there was never any
doubt about the superior quality of the results. As one long-time
colleague said, "Mike was not the fastest gun in the West, but he was
the best shot."
An engineer's engineer, Dornheim was an
unapologetic geek. He didn't actually sport a plastic pocket protector
or wear propeller-topped beanie. But he did still use the slide rule
his mom had passed down. And he favored plaid short-sleeve shirts with
a tiny notebook always tucked in the pocket. He would calculate Sun
angles on his patio before planting tomatoes. And friends allege he
even marked the date he acquired several pairs of socks for a
durability test designed to guide his subsequent hosiery purchases.
Mike's
rationality did not preclude his having a big heart and an impish sense
of humor, though. And he had a generosity of spirit that in no way
called attention to itself. He was a ready resource for colleagues and
a font of technical information for friends.
But when it came to
the magazine he loved, Mike Dornheim had a laser-like focus on finding
the truth and getting it on the page. That's all he wrote. And he
couldn't care less if editors, readers or sources didn't like it. As a
matter of fact, he loved to watch 'em squirm. Mercilessly,
meticulously, he would dig for the truth and demand that text and
graphics be as nearly perfect as humanly possible. Exasperating?
Sometimes. But what terrific results!
All images within this web page are
Copyright 2007 William G. Hartenstein and are protected under all applicable state and
federal law. Unauthorized use or duplication without the writtenpermission of the photographer is strictly
prohibited.