What got you interested in astronomy?
I've been a science-nerd since I was a little kid–I think in part because whenever we visited my grandparents, they let me look through their copy of Life Magazine's big, beautiful "The World We Live In" coffee table book. I thought it was the most interesting thing in the house, and I was glued to it, awestruck by the fold-out dinosaur murals and Chesley Bonestell's magnificent space art. They later gave me that book to keep, and I still have it on my shelf. The impact that those visuals had was profound. Growing up in the '60s, I couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement of the Space Race, and I watched TV coverage of every flight. My older brothers got interested in science fiction, and that rubbed off, particularly for stories that took place in outer space ("Lost in Space" and "Star Trek" were my favorite shows).
I remember visiting the planetarium on a school field trip and being captivated by the stars, which wasn't a frequent sight for a city kid. I'd hang out the window at my house, looking at the Moon through my mother's opera glasses. Then my parents bought me a telescope, and the first thing I found with it was Saturn, which blew me away—I was so proud of myself! I spent hours at the eyepiece, exploring the surface of the Moon through the telescope. I was captivated by constellation myths and tried to learn everything I could about them. I'm grateful to my parents for not trying to discourage me.
You celebrated 50 years at the Academy last year, congratulations! What's kept you here all that time?
In short, the people and the opportunity to continually learn and try new things.
I visited the Academy a lot as a kid and got to know it really well. I loved the aquarium, the animal dioramas, and—of course—the planetarium. When I eventually joined the staff, I really appreciated the interesting people in other departments that I could make friends with. Back in those days, everyone went down to the cafe for the really good coffee at break-time. They sat together and generously shared things—conversation, cookies, dim sum, gefilte fish. That's a big part of why I love the Academy so much…the camaraderie, the mutual learning and sharing, and the sense of pride in your job.
I’ve also gotten a lot of opportunities that have kept things interesting over the years. In 1982 I became the show producer, and I really enjoyed the creative opportunity to not only write the shows, but design special effects, produce the audio, and program the automation system (we had a much smaller staff, and everyone had to multitask). I wrote and produced more than 100 shows!
What are some of the most interesting or memorable things you've seen at the Academy in your time here?
There are just too many memories to recount! But a few that stand out…
I saw the Aquarium's two-headed gopher snake when it was alive—now only a skeleton of its former self (in a specimen jar). It lived in a row of small terrarium tanks surrounding the original alligator pit, which included lots of venomous snakes like rattlers and other pit vipers, and a cobra that I once even saw with its hood flared out. The big constrictors lived there, too, and were just as creepy-looking, staring at visitors through unblinking eyes.
On a rare occasion back when we had an alligator exhibit with 6-8 alligators, one of the lighter, more agile youngsters actually tried climbing out of the pit. I remember coming in to work one morning and passing a restroom on the public floor that had a sign on the door that read "Do not enter. Alligator inside." No, I didn't check.
The 1989 earthquake was definitely memorable, taking place as most of the staff were at an after-work party in the Library. I was working in the planetarium's small, windowless mini-library behind the dome. At 5:04 pm the shaking started...then intensified...and I hung on...then the lights went out…and I was in total darkness. Fortunately, the shaking soon stopped, and with my trusty pocket flashlight I was able to join staff evacuating the building. I was the only person with a transistor radio handy, and we all crowded around to listen to updates about the Marina fire and the collapse of the Cypress Freeway. A lot of staff who lived out of town stayed with their colleagues for the night, and it was a while before the Academy could reopen to the public. There was no damage to the planetarium itself—we could've reopened the next day—but other parts of the museum weren't so lucky. Fortunately no one was injured, and that's something to be most thankful for.
How did the famed star projector differ from today’s all-digital format?
The original star projector (we just referred to it as "the Machine") was a real work of art—as precise as a clock and built like a tank, not to mention the realism of its projected sky, which even today's digital systems can't match. Some of today's optomechanical projectors project literally millions of stars, which I think is going way overboard. Ours projected 3800, which looked like the real sky to someone with average eyesight, if the kind of show you wanted to do was all about the night sky as seen from Earth (that’s still what a lot of visitors expect to see). In my opinion, it was the most realistic simulated sky ever produced. After one show, someone really did ask "How did you open the dome so quietly?"
Education has been a big part of your career. Any recommendations for folks looking to engage more with astronomy?
Show people why it's important, exciting, and meaningful to you, and that enthusiasm will catch on. In many ways, making astronomy relatable boils down to how things compare to our own world and the conditions that make for a habitable planet. We need people to understand why certain other planets are the way they are, how the same things could happen to Earth, and whether we can or should change things. Some people understandably have trouble wrapping their heads around the size of the Universe, but we're not living in a bottle and should think big. That opens up so many possibilities and pathways for Nature to follow.