Sixty years ago this month, the January 1964 issue of Electronics Illustrated noted that it had been just over six decades since Marconi bridged the Atlantic without wires or ships in 1901. In the intervening years, the job had been done with satellites such as Telstar I and II.
But on July 26, 1963, a new experimental satellite, Syncom, had been launched from Cape Canaveral. The satellite was new in that it was synchronous. Its orbital period was 24 hours, so it seeming hovered at the same longitude. Since it was launched from 33 degrees north, it actually did a figure 8, hovering between 33 north and 33 south. But that was good enough to be continuously visible from both America and Europe and 22,300 miles.
The magazine noted that if such a satellite were launched from the equator, then it would stay above a single point on the earth’s surface. The magazine didn’t use the word, but this is what we know today as a geosynchronous orbit, although most geosynchronous satellites are today launched from other locations, first into a geostationary transfer orbit before being maneuvered into geosynchronous orbit. According to the magazine, the satellite’s two transmitters put out about 2 watts on 1915 MHz.
Shown here, in the November 1973 issue of Popular Science, is an artist’s conception of what Comet Kohoutek was going to look like in early 1974. According to the magazine, the comet was going to be the “Sky Spectacular of the Century” as it made its way from the Oort Cloud , close to the sun, and within view of the Earth.
It was going to be a big deal. William Safire wrote in the New York Times:
A hundred years from now, how will our great, great grandchildren remember 1973? In a future age, when the names of Nixon and Brezhnev are dimly remembered, and those of Ervin and Mitchell and Dean are minor footnotes in scholarly treatises, the name and the discovery that will illuminate the 1973 will be Lubos Kohoutek (the Czech astronomer who discovered the comet).
This magazine, and many other media outlets, gave numerous pointers on how to view this celestial event. Unfortunately, the comet’s path close to the sun proved to be its downfall, and despite the hype, it was barely visible.
A hundred years ago this month, the cover of the September 1923 issue of Science and Invention was celebrating the total solar eclipse that was to take place on September 10, 1923.
In the U.S., the path of totality covered only a tiny sliver of southern California, including the city of San Diego, as well as Santa Catalina and the Channel Islands. The best view, however, was in Mexico, since the path extended from Baja California to Yucatan. The Mexican National Government, as well as the governments of San Luis Potosi and Mexico City were heavily involved. The National Observatory and the Mexican National Railway were also assisting in preparations, and astronomers from around the world were preparing to descend upon the country.
Of course, we have two eclipses coming up in short order. The warm-up act will be the annular eclipse of Saturday, October 14, which will extend from Oregon to Texas, then into Mexico and Central and South America. It will also be visible as a partial eclipse in most of North and South America. Since the moon is currently too far from the earth for a total eclipse, the sun will appear to be a “ring of fire” along the path. While this phenomenon is certainly interesting, it’s not really spectacular.
The spectacular event is coming up on Monday, April 8, 2024, when a total eclipse will be visible along a line from Mazatlan, Mexico, and then in the United States and Canada, along a path from Texas through Maine. While the annular eclipse isn’t worth a special trip for most people, the total eclipse certainly is, just as it was a hundred years ago.
For the annular eclipse, and for all but a few minutes of the total eclipse, you will need eye protection to view the partially eclipsed sun. Our sister site, MyEclipseGlasses.com, has approved eclipse glasses available for only $3.99, with free shipping anywhere in the world. Just like eclipse glasses in 2017 (and just like toilet paper in 2020), they’ll be in short supply, so the time to order is now.
I recall checking out the book shown here, UFOs and IFOs: A Factual Report on Flying Saucers, by Gardner Soule, from the library in my elementary school. Looking at the reviews on Amazon, it looks like this particular tome made its way into a lot of elementary school libraries. In any event, it was a scholarly look at the UFO phenomenon, and since it was presumably vetted by the school librarian, it must have been real science.
The author was a fairly prolific writer about topics that we might today call the paranormal. He specialized in cryptozoology, and according to Wikipedia, his most famous work was Maybe Monsters. (But in my opinion, UFOs and IFOs was the most popular.) He specialized in books for young readers, and his works appeared in Boys’ Life and Popular Science.
The main thing I remember from this book, though, was his advice as to preparing for encountering a UFO. If you happened to be in a position to observe a UFO, then it was more or less an obligation that you would use the opportunity to gather data for use by the scientific community. I believe that one item he recommended that you carry with you at all times was a small compass, so that you could report back to the scientists any magnetic activity from the UFO. But the specific recommendation that I remember was that you carry with you at all times a diffraction grating. Armed with this, you would be able to determine the spectrum of light from the craft. Scientists would then be able to use this information to ascertain the materials used in the craft.
I forget whether I took to carrying a compass with me, but I never did figure out how to get my hands on a diffraction grating for my everyday carry. Thankfully, kids (and adults) today have Amazon, and you can get everything at Amazon, including diffraction gratings.
If you see a UFO, and don’t have a diffraction grating in your pocket, you’re going to feel embarrassed, especially since we gave you this reminder. The scientists won’t be happy. Therefore, we recommend that you order one immediately:
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Shown here, on the cover of the March 1953 issue of QST, are W4AO and W3GKP, carefully aligning the W3GKP antennas in preparation for bouncing their 144 MHz signals off the moon.
The feat had been accomplished by the U.S. military a few years earlier, but it was much more challenging with amateur power levels of 1000 watts. The first echoes came in 1950, but the two hams kept the early results under wraps and continued until a definitive echo was shown, which happened in early 1953, on 144 MHz.
The details of the operation were carried in that issue of QST. That first EME (Earth-Moon-Earth) or “Moonbounce” signal required a great deal of technical expertise, but both technical innovation and collective experience have made the feat much more achievable, with many stations logging more than 100 countries. For an idea of the relatively minimal amount of equipment now needed, see W5RZ’s 2016 article about portable EME from a park, in which he made contacts with Europe by bouncing signals off the moon from an antenna strapped to a charcoal grill.
For the cynics who believe that the New Year is just a conspiracy by the Big Calendar Companies to sell more calendars, you can beat them at their own game. There are only 14 possible calendars (January 1 falling on Sunday through Saturday, for both regular years and leap years), so it is quite possible to re-use your old calendars.
2023 starts on a Sunday, as did 1911. So rather than spending your money on a new calendar, just print out this perfectly good 1911 calendar, taken from the 1911 edition of the Old Farmer’s Almanac.
The book is full of other interesting information, such as the 1911 postal rates:
The distinction between the 1 cent and the 2 cent letter rate is that the 1 cent rate is the “drop letter” rate. It covers letters brought to the post office to be delivered to a customer who picks them up at the same office. But if the office has either local delivery or rural delivery, or if it’s sent to another post office, then the 2 cent rate applies.
The book also contains a description of the 1910 appearance of Halley’s Comet, which I was able to see (albeit barely) in 1986.
Sixty years ago this month, the November 1961 issue of Electronics Illustrated featured this radio telescope constructed by high school student H. Mark Wahl of Cheyenne, Wyoming. The rack containing the electronics was a school locker. The door of the locker was removed to form the door, and the equipment was mounted facing what used to be the back.
The equipment consisted of a standard FM broadcast receiver which had been converted to AM by eliminating the limiter and discriminator. A tuned RF amplifier, apparently for 108 MHz, was added to beef up the sensitivity. The IF output was connected to what looks like a Hallicrafters S-30B tuned to 10.7 MHz. This fed two recorders, one connected to the voice coil of the receiver’s speaker, and the other one connected to the S-meter. The recording of the audio output was accomplished with a pivoted wooden arm. The other end held a pen which recorded on a strip of paper driven by a motor.
The recorder hooked to the meter consisted of a straw from a broom, which recorded a trace on a soot-covered cylinder turned by a wind-up alarm clock, creating a 12 hour record.
The antenna consisted of two folded dipole antennas, probably made out of TV twin lead, mounted horizontally and parallel to each other, about a hundred feet apart. With identical lengths of feed line, the signals would arrive in phase, and be identical. The antenna pattern would have a number of lobes, one of which was straight up. However, if an additional half wavelength of feedline was added to one side, the two signals would arrive out of phase. The pattern would be similar, but the signal from straight up would be nulled out. By using the difference of these two signals, the interferometer was able to null out everything but the signal from straight up. Thus, any terrestrial interference would be eliminated, and the antenna would see only the cosmic noise coming in from directly overhead.
While we think of most radio astronomy taking place at higher frequencies, there’s no reason why frequencies just above the FM broadcast band can’t be used. For example, this 2014 experiment used 38 European radio telescopes to detect radio signals from a distant galaxy on 115 MHz. Those 38 dish antennas probably provided a better signal than two folded dipoles a hundred feet apart, but they used the same principles to combine the signals.
Unfortunately, the article doesn’t give too many practical details on the construction of the set. And other than the author’s assertion that it was “relatively simple, but it works,” there’s little detail on what observations he made.
On this day 75 years ago, persons on Earth were able to witness a star going nova. In particular, the star T Coronae Borealis went from being a 10th magnitude star, barely visible with binoculars, to a magnitude 3.0. There were still 120 objects in the sky that were brighter, but for a few days, it was visible to the naked eye on February 9, 1946.
This news account appeared in the Pittsburgh Press, February 9, 1946. It reported that the “atomic explosion millions of times more powerful than the bombs which hit Japan” was first observed by Arman Deutch of the University of Chicago Department of Astronomy at the Yerkes Observatory in Williams Bay, Wisconsin.
The star is a recurring nova. It’s actually a binary system containing a large cool component and a smaller hot component. The cool component, a red giant, is transferring material to the hot white dwarf component. During outbursts, the transfer of material increases, thus increasing the overall luminosity.
The star had a brightening in 2016, which is said to be similar to a 1938 brightening that preceded the 1946 outburst. It is said to remain at an unusually high level of activity.
Today marks the 80th anniversary of the total solar eclipse of October 1, 1940, which was visible in Colombia, Brazil, Venezuela, and South Africa.
One focus of research for this eclipse was its effect upon the ionosphere and radio propagation. As shown from the clipping above (Washington Evening Star, Oct. 1, 1940), scientific teams from the National Geographic Society and Brown University had travelled to Patos, Brazil, and had photographic equipment at the ready. Unfortunately, however, a thick layer of clouds prevented visual study. Other experiments, however, focused on radio propagation and were presumably unaffected by the clouds.
In preparation for the radio studies, the National Bureau of Standards had previously published data regarding normal ionospheric conditions on the date of the eclipse.
Crowds descending on Virginia to view 1970 eclipse. NASA photo.
Today marks the 50th anniversary of the total solar eclipse of Saturday, March 7, 1970. As I previously recounted, this was the first eclipse I witnessed. That eclipse began in the Pacific and had a path of totality that crossed southern Mexico before entering the Gulf of Mexico.
Then, the shadow hit the United States , first in Florida, then Georgia, then the Carolinas and Virginia, then grazing Maryland before heading back out to sea, saying goodbye to the United States at Nantucket.
For those with Learjets, it then crossed Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and the French island of Miquelon, before heading out to sea again into the North Atlantic.
Where I was in Minnesota, it only covered 47% of the sun at high noon. If nobody had told me about it, I probably wouldn’t have noticed. It didn’t get dark outside, and no animals were confused by sudden darkness. But that day, it was the biggest deal in the world. The moon contained fresh footprints of Americans who had walked on its surface less than a year earlier. Now that same moon was casting its shadow over me.
To me and my fellow third graders, it was presented as a big deal. And it was a big deal. If there had ever been any doubt about it, yes, the moon went around the earth, the earth went around the sun, and sometimes they got in the way of each other. Any third grader could see tangible proof.
In school, we had learned all about umbras and penumbras, and by the time the big day came, I was an expert on all things eclipse. With a shoebox, some foil, and a note card, I constructed myself a pinhole viewer. I figured that if a pinhole was good, then a giant hole would be even better. Fortunately, my mom corrected my error and got the viewer in good working order.
I pointed the box at the sun coming in the window, and sure enough, there was a little crescent shape of sunlight coming in through the round hole, plainly visible on the note card.
Perhaps I was a little disappointed at the tiny size of the image, but it didn’t matter. Right there in my shoebox was proof positive that the moon orbits the earth. I didn’t have to take anyone else’s word for it. The proof was right before my eyes.
The home movie here shows some of my contemporaries in North Carolina who had the fortune of being in the path of totality:
From our location, we had to turn on the TV to see the full effect, and we witnessed the darkened skies and the amazed reactions of those who went outside to see it. I don’t remember too many details about the TV coverage. Mostly, I remember some poor confused rooster in Georgia crowing in the middle of the day.
I believe it was the CBS coverage that I watched on TV fifty years ago today, and that broadcast is available on YouTube. (You can hear the rooster at 22:23.)
Here is another reminiscence of another kid who was older than I was and who lived closer to the path of totality. As he recounts, he was able to talk his dad into driving him the 200 miles to totality where he was able to set up his telescope and take some photos.
When my friends and I got back to school the next Monday, the eclipse was the topic of conversation. We knew how the universe worked, because we had seen it with our own eyes. It was a big deal, and the kids remembered it.
In 1970, we were over a thousand miles away from the path of totality, and going to see it wasn’t really an option. But I envied those people and roosters on TV who got to see it in person.
The next total solar eclipse in North America will take place on Monday, April 8, 2024, just over four years from now. The path of totality will be a narrow strip passing through Mexico and Canada, and the states of Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Missouri, Illinois, Kentucky, Indiana, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine. The path of totality includes a number of large cities, including, San Antonio, Austin, Fort Worth, Dallas, Little Rock, Indianapolis, Cleveland, Buffalo, and Rochester. That path through Canada will include Windsor, ON, and Montreal.
My family went to see the 2017 eclipse, and the 2024 eclipse will be within a days’ drive of most of the population of the United States. It’s an unforgettable experience, and you should plan on seeing it, just over four years from now. It will be a school day, and if 2017 is any guide, most schools will fail to do anything meaningful. I rarely encourage truancy, but kids should skip school that day, and instead travel to the zone of totality. When I’m substitute teaching, I tell kids to ask their science teacher on the first day of the 2023-24 school year if there will be a field trip to see the eclipse. If the teacher balks, then I tell them they should plan on skipping school. From where I live in Minnesota, it’s a day’s drive to Illinois or Indiana to view it. Kids who are currently sixth grade and older will probably have their driver’s licenses by then. And all of the kids probably have parents who can take them.
You should also pencil in the 2024 eclipse on your calendar. Keep following OneTubeRadio.com, and we’ll certainly remind you. My experience from 2016 is that if you make your travel plans about one year in advance, there will be plenty of inexpensive accommodations available. If you are a student or parent, then you should plan on bugging the science teacher in September 2023 about organizing a trip. Just as I tell the kids here, if he or she doesn’t seem enthused, then you should take matters into your own hands.
When I’m teaching a class, there are often one or two kids in the class whose parents took them to see the 2017 eclipse. I ask them if it was the coolest thing they had ever seen, and they invariably say that it was. If you had asked me fifty years ago, I would have said that it was pretty cool, even though I was stuck mostly watching it on TV. It took 47 years to actually go see a total eclipse in person, and I can vouch for the fact that it was indeed the coolest thing ever.
Sixty years ago this month, the January 1964 issue of Electronics Illustrated noted that it had been just over six decades since Marconi bridged the Atlantic without wires or ships in 1901. In the intervening years, the job had been done with satellites such as Telstar I and II.
For the annular eclipse, and for all but a few minutes of the total eclipse, you will need eye protection to view the partially eclipsed sun. Our sister site, 
The main thing I remember from this book, though, was his advice as to preparing for encountering a UFO. If you happened to be in a position to observe a UFO, then it was more or less an obligation that you would use the opportunity to gather data for use by the scientific community. I believe that one item he recommended that you carry with you at all times was a small compass, so that you could report back to the scientists any magnetic activity from the UFO. But the specific recommendation that I remember was that you carry with you at all times a diffraction grating. Armed with this, you would be able to determine the spectrum of light from the craft. Scientists would then be able to use this information to ascertain the materials used in the craft.
The recorder hooked to the meter consisted of a straw from a broom, which recorded a trace on a soot-covered cylinder turned by a 
