The Great Drop Tower Catastrophe...

On the right - The Dynamic Test Stand, Facility 4550, at Marshall Space Flight Center

According to a NASA document entitled, "Brief Chronology of Facilities Buildup Relating to History of Marshall Space Flight Center (Early 1950s through 1990) ," in 1964, "the Saturn V Dynamic Test Stand (Facility Number 4550) was constructed for low frequency dynamic testing of the complete Saturn V launch vehicle to evaluate structural frequencies and assure decoupling from the vehicle control system.  Various flight configurations were evaluated, including, the complete vehicle, the vehicle less the S-IC stage, S-II stage, etc.  In the years that followed the tower was utilized to structurally qualify the Skylab orbital workshop and the meteoroid shield deployment for Skylab.  The facility was modified in 1977 to perform low frequency vibration tests on the mated Space Shuttle using the orbiter Enterprise.  The facility was later modified to contain a drop tower and drop tube to provide a low gravity environment for approximately 3 seconds."

That last phrase, "The facility was later modified to contain a drop tower and drop tube to provide a low gravity environment for approximately 3 seconds," sounds almost like a throw-away, but it was a real effort and I was fortunate enough to have been part of it.  In 1981, my short-lived contracting career was coming to an abrupt end.  I need to find a different direction in my career and was open to just about any opportunity that might have come along.

One day my wife Margo saw an ad in the Huntsville Times that indicated that the Division of Continuing Education at the University of Alabama in Huntsville (UAH) was looking for someone with a Master's Degree (Preferably a PhD) to become the new Associate Director of Technical Studies.  The job description, which included the development of new training courses for the Army Corps of Engineers and other Federal agencies, sounded like something I might excel at.  So, in spite of my lack of an advanced degree, I submitted an application for the position.  I heard nothing for several weeks.  I checked with some acquaintances at UAH and was informed that the job requisition was still open.

The person who had posted the position was a Dr. Gary Workman.  I tried reaching him to no avail.  In speaking with his receptionist, I learned that Dr. Workman often met his wife for lunch and returned around 1:00 P.M.  I found out what kind of car he drove.  One day, in suit and tie, freshly shaven and hair combed, I laid in wait at the door of the Continuing Education building on campus.  When Dr. Workman stepped out of his car to return to work, I confronted him and informed him that his refusal to answer my written and telephone inquiries about my job application was both rude and unprofessional.  I was here to request an immediate job interview and I believed I could convince him of my ability to do the job without an advanced degree.

We went together to Gary Workman's office, had a cup of coffee to relax in an informal job interview that was followed immediately by two more interviews (with Dr. Mike Oliver and a lovely lady named Anneliese Dilworth), and I left that afternoon with an informal offer letter with the formal offer to follow.  Sometimes it pays to be assertive.

I worked closely with Gary for the next 2 1/2 years as his assistant.  We worked very well together and the department grew at a healthy rate.

One day Gary came into my office and laid a NASA solicitation on my desk.  "NASA wants to reactivate the old drop tower out at the dynamic test stand," he pointed out.  "They're looking for a PhD in metallurgy or metallurgical engineering.  I've got my PhD in physical chemistry and you have a bachelor's degree in metallurgical engineering.  What if we proposed the two of us for the price of one?  We might have an opportunity to get into some really neat research!"  We proceeded to write a decent proposal describing how we would proceed to reactivate a facility that had not been used for 15 or 20 years.  We went out to visit the dynamic test stand, took the elevator to the top, and inspected the rusty remnants of what had been a beautiful bit of research equipment.

The drag shield on the drop tower that we
reactivated in the early 1980s, here being held
in position by its hoisting cable

A little background is needed.  The dynamic test stand is an imposing structure nearly 500 feet tall.  One side of the building is comprised of an open steel gridwork within which various configurations of the Saturn V booster and later the Space Shuttle were mounted to be shaken and vibrated by enormous hydraulic actuators.  Alongside this mammoth structure is a series of platforms on which people can walk, accessible by elevator, and from which engineers could observe and measure various points on the structures being tested.  Part of that "floored" area was chosen in which to construct the Drop Tower.  A pair of long steel rails was erected vertically about 5' apart, extending the entire 475 foot height of the structure.  These rails are exquisitely constructed to be absolutely parallel and perfectly straight.  Now imagine a bullet- or bomb-shaped container (properly called a drag shield) aligned vertically between the two rails with guides that embrace the rails on either side.  Through access plates on the walls of this "bullet" scientists can enter the interior and install experiments that are designed to occur in very low gravity conditions and over a very short duration (less than 3 seconds).  An example might be the rapid melting and re-solidifying of a tiny droplet of some alloy.  The drag shield would be hoisted by a winch to its topmost position on the top floor of the dynamic test stand.  At the moment of initiation of an experiment, the latches holding the shield in place would be released at the same moment that a set of small CO2 powered thrusters surrounding the top of the device would be activated.  These thrusters were aimed upward.  Their function was to  give a momentary downward push to get the facility started on its 450-foot drop.  The experiment inside would "float" up from the floor and remain floating for the 2-3 seconds that it took the shield to reach the bottom of its travel.  Those 2-3 seconds represented the period during which the experiment would actually transpire.

When Gary and I first saw the "laboratory" it was depressing.  This facility is exposed constantly to the elements.  Every piece of equipment was rusty.  Paint had peeled off in great sheets, exposing broad swaths of rust.  The rails had layers of rust covered with bird droppings.  Apparently, there were some favorable roosts that aligned with the location of the rails.  Fixtures that we touched that should have moved, such as movable latches and hinges, were frozen with corrosion.  This was going to be an interesting effort.

We proceeded to write our proposal, describing in detail how we would restore, upgrade and activate the entire mechanism and its associated instrumentation.  Within a few weeks after submitting our proposal, the university research institute was notified that we had won the competition.  We were soon under contract to reactivate the drop tower!

Over the next several weeks, we spent most of our time meeting with NASA facilities specialists, researchers, and experimenters.  We completely stripped all the hardware down to bare metal and restored the painted and coated surfaces.  We replaced bearings and bushings that had long since ceased to function properly.  We rewired hundreds of feet of corroded and broken wiring harnesses.

The local operating center and instrument room adjacent to the drag shield's launch point had been gutted and exposed to the elements.  We completely restored it with up-to-date equipment and instruments.  Within only a few months, it was time to check out the drop mechanism.

We decided that Gary would be located at the top, or release point to observe the event.  Most of the NASA client's personnel would be there as well.  I would be stationed on the second or third deck of the drop tower facility, standing adjacent to the hole on the deck through which the "bullet" would descend en route to the "Catch Tube."  This was a steel cylinder about 25-30 ft. tall into which the drag shield descended at the bottom of its fall.  It had holes perforating its sides through which air could escape at a controlled rate to slow the container down and the bottom of the catch tube was lined with padding that looked like a collection of old mattresses.  My job was to try to take a photograph of the dropping capsule as it passed through my level at a high rate of speed.

In this NASA cutaway image
of the drop tower facility, you
can see the simulated capsule
descending toward the
catch tube.

On the appointed day, we all took our assigned positions.  A small dummy experiment and some high speed cameras were mounted inside the experimental capsule to ensure that the experiment "floated" correctly on the way down.  We had a formal countdown over the loudspeaker system of the dynamic test stand.  "3-2-1... and Bam!"  I heard the loud report of the latch mechanism and the whoosh of the speeding capsule.  It all happened so fast that it passed me before I even thought about the camera release.  Then I made a serious mistake.

I leaned over the edge of the deck to watch the capsule descend into the catch tube.  We had overlooked one item in our restoration effort.  The catch tube had collected twenty years worth of rainwater, debris, dead birds, and God knows what other detritus during its inactivity.  So instead of a soft landing against a cushion of air, the falling laboratory's kinetic energy was used to force the liquid in the catch tube between the capsule and the enclosing walls, creating a gusher of unimaginable foulness.  And I caught its full force and volume.  I got absolutely drenched with this vile goo!

There were a couple University associates and NASA representatives standing nearby who immediately started laughing hysterically as they backed away.  I ended up walking down the stairs to the ground level, since I didn't want to contaminate the elevator.  Fortunately, there was an outdoor decontamination shower available where I was able to get most of the slime and filth off.  In retrospect. the event got funnier as the memory of the smell grew fainter.

And you can bet that the very next day we began the job of cleaning out and restoring the catch tube!