THE MEMOIRS OF A RETOOLED GE0SCIENTIST

or

How I came to Know and Love Remote Sensing

By

Dr. Nicholas M. Short

THE MEMOIRS OF A RETOOLED GEOSCIENTIST

by

Nicholas M. Short (retired) nmshort@nationi.net

NASA, Goddard Space Flight Center

Most older professionals now practicing orutilizing the technology that is now generallycalled “remote sensing” did not start theircareers trained in this field. They came in bythe “backdoor” or perhaps the “sidedoor”.This contrasts with younger generations ofscientists and applications-orientedspecialists who were exposed to remotesensing during their collegiate years or soonafter they started their careers. Thoseindividuals probably were exposed to one orseveral courses dealing with remote sensingand GIS - a few may even majored in thisnow fast-growing line of work. In any eventthese more recent entries into theprofessional ranks either moved directly intojobs based on or requiring skills in remotesensing or assimilated the necessaryknowledge to apply remote sensing becausetheir educational background gave them astrong foundation.

This self-revealing Memoir isdirected to some extent to these youthfulpractitioners, mainly to give them a sense ofthe history of the “early” days when theirelders helped to lay the ground work in therapidly developed realm of Remote Sensingin its modern version. I am one of theseelders but not by choice - instead, as will beexplained later, I literally came into remotesensing as an abrupt change in career quiteby accident. My story, which will be

unfolded in this online article, is certainlyunique ---- it may in fact be typical. Manyof my colleagues and peers during my firstyears have similar tales as to how theyentered this field despite having been trainedin other fields. They converted to remotesensing as an occupation either by seizingthe opportunity or in response tocircumstances.

Because my experiences after myconversion tend to parallel what has gone onsince remote sensing became “fashionable”,my goal and approach in this article is torecount how this happened and to show thatmy activities mirror much of what is anintegral part of the history of this field asexperienced by my peers and colleagues whopioneered this new field.

Just so you, the reader, and I are onthe same waveband, I will begin bypresenting my own definition (a bitlongwinded perhaps) of what remote sensingmeans to me. Thus, the term remote sensing* as I see it is….

* The term "remote sensing" is itself a relatively new

addition to the technical lexicon. It was coined by Ms

Evelyn Pruitt in the mid-1950's when she, a

geographer/oceanographer, was with the U.S. Office of

Naval Research (ONR) outside Washington, D.C.. No

specific publication or professional meeting is cited in

The measuring of force fields,electromagnetic radiation, or acousticenergy employing cameras, theacquisition and measurement ofdata/information on some property(ies)of a phenomenon, object, or materialby a recording device not in physical,intimate contact with the feature(s)under surveillance; techniques involveamassing knowledge pertinent toenvironments by radiometers andscanners, lasers, radio frequencyreceivers, radar systems, sonar,thermal devices, seismographs,magnetometers, gravimeters,scintillometers, and other instruments.

Boiling this down to a simple,practical working definition, to most remotesensing involves using instruments flown onaircraft or on spacecraft to sense radiationcoming from the Earth’s surface (land andwater) and/or its atmosphere in a systematicway, i.e., one that relates the radiationpattern to a geographic framework, yieldingpictures, images, and numerical data sets.But, this leaves out two other domains:remote sensing is the main method, so far, oflearning about the planets and the vastnessof the Cosmos (the Hubble Space Telescopeis, in my opinion, the greatest remotesensing device yet built by mankind).

I think the argument came be made,with conviction, that of the money spent byNASA and other international spaceprograms and now industry, more has beendirected towards projects and missionsdepend on remote sensors to acquire therequisite data than on any other category of

literature consulted by the writer (NMS) in which the words "remote

sensing" were stated. Those "in the know" claim that it was used

openly by the time of several ONR-sponsored symposia in the late

'50s at the University of Michigan.

expenditure. Thus, geophysicalmeasurements of force fields, meteorology,oceanography, land observations,environmental assessments, management ofresources, together with planetaryexploration and astronomical observations ofstars, galaxies, and the deep regions ofcosmic space, make up a partial listing ofremote sensing-dependent endeavors thatover the years have involved the investmentof many tens of billions of $dollars.

With this preamble behind us, nowlet me turn personal as I recount my 33years of intimate connection with remotesensing.

A quick biopic: I am a native of St.Louis, Mo. My decision to become ascientist - specifically, a geologist - traces tothe age of 12 when I bought a mineral set,and became hooked on rocks ever since. Igained a B.S. from St. Louis University, anM.A. from Washington University, spent ayear at Penn State, and received my Ph.D. in1958 from MIT. All degrees were inGeology, with my specialties beingsedimentology and geochemistry. Afterspending two years in research at GulfResearch and Development near Pittsburgh,I joined the Lawrence Livermore Laboratoryin California in 1959, being the first geologisthired there to support the undergroundnuclear testing program. Soon, I switched atLLL to the Plowshare program for ‘peaceful’uses of underground explosions. My maincontribution was to study the effects of hugeshock pressures from these explosions onthe rocks surrounding them. I discoveredseveral intriguing phenomena in these rockswhich had never been reported before.

Most of my studies used samplesfrom major nuclear explosions. The mostimportant of these was the Sedan Event -

100 kilotons - which produced this 1100-ftdiameter crater. A wide variety of shockedrocks could be collected as ejecta.

The Sedan Crater at the Nevada Test Site

In my last year at the Radiation Labin Livermore, I conducted some rather “wayout” experiments to shock rocks. Oneinvolved the firing of a flat-nosed shell froma 16-inch cannon removed from an oldbattleship:

The cannon I used to shock a variety ofrock samples

I also “invented” a new method toshock rocks to very high pressures. Toaccomplish this I placed a sealed metal toolcontaining rock samples inside a cylinderfilled with liquid explosives. Whendetonated, shock waves moved bothoutward and inward - the latter causing animplosion that squeezed the samples topressures exceeding a half megabar.

The implosion tube method of shockingrocks

These shock features proved to bethe “missing link” between these controlledevents and the peculiarities found in rocksassociated with known or presumedmeteorite (asteroidal) impact craters; at thattime about 75 such structures had beenlocated. But, there was a high degree ofskepticism among the scientific communityin this idea of impact. Most, at first, claimedthe craters or their scars (astroblemes) tohave a volcanic origin. However, nomeasurements of high pressures duringvolcanic eruptions had ever demonstratedsignificant overpressures, and theorysuggested top pressures of only a few 10s ofkilobars at most. The impact advocatesargued that the pressures generated as thecrater was made could be in the 100s ofkilobars. In my studies of undergroundexplosions, I could show conclusively thatinstrumental measurements yielded transientshock wave pressures well in excess of 500kilobars. The rocks I recovered from nuclearexplosions in granite, tuff, basalt, salt, andalluvium that were determined to haveexperienced these high pressures showedvery distinctive shock features. I alsodeveloped a method to shock rocksexperimentally to similar pressures.

The importance of theseobservations was realized when I gave a

paper at the New York Academy of Sciencein 1963. Several impact devotees who werein attendance showed slides that containingidentical microscopic features to those I haddiscovered in the nuclear explosion rocks.This provided the first and decisive evidencethat the impact features were subjected tovery high pressures, unattainable by nearsurface terrestrial processes such asvolcanism but the expected range of valuesthat theoretical models posed for impact.Those of us who now recognized theimplications of this dualism named theprocess shock metamorphism. Thisinvolvement with the ‘impacters’ changedmy career emphasis drastically.

Another noteworthy achievementwas to have had technicians build the firstTV cameras designed to go into boreholes;one was 2.6” wide. I can argue with someconviction that this was my first “remotesensing experience.

The Nx core TV camera (in my hands)

In 1964 I left Livermore for ateaching position at the University ofHouston. I was hired as the department’sgeochemist. But funding for that was hard tocome by. So, I applied to NASA for aresearch grant to study one of the smallimpact craters, the West Hawk Lakestructure in western Ontario, Canada. As afollow-up, I began to concentrate onstudying the petrography (appearance of therock in thin section under the microscope) ofrocks from a large number of reputed impactstructures. This led to a series of publishedpapers that helped me to join the ranks ofthose who were swiftly reaching theconclusion that impact cratering is one of themost fundamental of processes affecting theEarth’s and other planetary surfaces.

The next shift in career came about in1966 when a NASA scientist, Dr. BevanFrench, and I dreamed up the idea of the“First Conference on Shock Metamorphismof Natural Materials”, held at the GoddardSpace Flight Center (GSFC). It was hugelysuccessful, and its Proceedings (1968) is stillthe basic reference for this new field. Whileat Goddard, I was introduced to the facilitiesof the Planetary Branch and, awed by theplethora of equipment not available to me atHouston, I readily accepted the invitation toapply for a National Academy of SciencesResearch Associateship, which was quicklyawarded. So, in 1967 I took a leave ofabsence and with family journeyed toGreenbelt, MD for an exciting andproductive two years.

Attendees at the “famous 1966 Shock Metamorphism Conference

While there, I continued my work on shockedrocks using electron microscopy, electronmicroprobe and other instruments never beforeavailable to me. With Dr. French, we spentmuch spare time in honchoing the ShockMetamorphism Proceedings, my first book. Iwas fortunate to be chosen as one of the 142investigator teams to work on the first lunarrock samples returned from Apollo 11 and 12.More later.

The 1968 “classic”: Shock Metamorphism ofNatural Materials

So, where does remote sensing come in.Not quite yet. Of course, I had used remotesensing products in the form of aerial photosfor years as I did field work in geology. But, Iencountered the notion of “remote sensing”,with its implications of more sophisticated

instruments than an aerial camera, at a ShortCourse on Remote Sensing given by Dr.Robert Reeves (then at Colorado School ofMines) at the 1968 annual meeting of theGeological Society of America. I learned afair amount but never suspected it wouldsoon become my “bread and butter” activity.

In 1969 I decided I would, for healthreasons, not return to the University ofHouston. Staying at Goddard did not seeman option, since the Planetology Branch wasfacing a scaleback in personnel (and diddisband three years later). I applied for otherteaching positions and received an offer of aFull Professorship at Kent State University,with the commission to upgrade theirresearch programs in the geosciences. But,after accepting, we ran into a severe housingproblem (related to the fact that localordinances prohibited dogs in apartments).My wife made two driving trips to seek asolution. One, though inadequate, wasfound. Then, two days after her return, asshe was dressing for us to celebrate ourwedding anniversary, she suddenly screamedand collapsed. At that precise moment, I hadno clue that this was to be a seminal momentin my professional life. She had somehowruptured two spinal disks and was partiallyparalyzed. She was in traction for a monthand the doctors advised that she not be

involved in any major move for the year,especially since her condition was limit her carefor our 5 year old rambunctious son. I asked foran extension before coming to Kent, but sinceOhio public education required the position tobe readvertised if not filled on schedule, thisexcellent opportunity was closed.

So, I faced a super-dilemma. A return toHouston was out, as I had resigned in theSpring. The Planetology Branch had filled myslot. Where was I to work?

Sometime prior to the end of my tenurewith the Branch, I had met Dr. WilliamNordberg, a meteorologist at Goddard, who hadbeen given the lead role as Project Scientist forthe forthcoming launch and operation of thefirst Earth Resources Technology Satellite(ERTS-1). For him, this was also somewhat ofa career redirection but his exceptionalversatility in land sciences and his leadershipmade him a superb choice for this position. Hehad decided that spring that they needed atleast one geologist on the Goddard earthsciences team, he knew I was searching for newvistas, so he made me an offer to join theirprogram. But, to me at the time, this seemed tobe a radical shift in career goals. Frankly, Ididn’t think inwardly that I would be muchinterested in looking a large area “aerialphotos”, so I rebuffed his offer. And, myknowledge of remote sensing was pretty muchlimited then to its spelling.

But, with the wife’s broken back - mychoices were few and “any port in the storm”became my guideline. I accepted, and juststayed at Goddard and in our rented home. Iwas able to work out a very favorable deal withBill Nordberg. Since I was a lunar samplesinvestigator, and Apollo 11 had landed andreturned successfully, with samples guaranteed,I was urged to finish my studies throughApollo 12, maintaining one office with thePlanetology Branch and another in Nordberg’s

Division. The arrangement demanded onlythat I attend certain meetings and that Istarted to learn the rudiments of remotesensing in spare moments.

After receiving my Apollo 11samples, as a one-man team I had to work10-12 hour days, and Saturdays, to do myprescribed research on pinpointing shockfeatures in the lunar rocks. One night Iprepared a mount for an x-ray asterismstudy of a single crystal of a lunar basalt.When I brought it to the technician’s lab forthe next day analysis, I laid the vialcontaining the sample (about the size of aneraser tip on a pencil) on his table, thensimply forgot about it. That analysis was asmall part of my investigation and I gotenough done to prepare a paper for the firstLunar Science Conference in Houston, inJanuary 1970. I had found definitive signsof shock effects mainly in the lunar regolith(sometimes called “lunar soil”). My maincontribution: I co-discovered independentlywhat John Wood, an MIT classmate now atthe Smithsonian AstrophysicalObservatory, had also found: the earlierproposal by A. Turkevich that the lunarhighlands seemed to composed ofAnorthosite (a feldspar-rich igneous rock)was indeed valid. I stayed in this modeuntil I finished my studies on the Apollo 12samples.

The single tiny “instant rock” clast that to methe Highlands was composed primarily of therock type called Anorthosite

In Spring of 1970, I moved toNordberg’s building and proceeded to immersemyself into remote sensing and ERTS inparticular. But, a traumatic debacle intervened.

This came from inventorying my lunarspecimens prior to shipping them back to theLunar Receiving Laboratory at the Manned

Spacecraft Center. One small vial wasmissing - the one mentioned above. I scouredthe Planetology Building with no luck. Ireported this to the Branch Chief, Dr. LouisWalter. He intensified the search but alsodrew a blank. We then reported this toHouston, and shortly people from NASAHeadquarters visited us, accompanied bytwo agents from the FBI. This was to be thefirst sample reported lost. I was grilled buthad no clue (I didn’t remember that latenight). Another thorough check of thefacilities failed once more. Two days later, apress conference was held at Headquartersto announce the loss. I was not permitted toattend my own demise. Since Moon Rockswere still then a popular subject, thismissing rock made headlines around theworld - front page in the New York Timesand the Washington Post.

Mentioned on Network News byWalter Cronkite and Huntley-Brinkley. Ithen compounded the problem by agreeingto a telephone interview by the BaltimoreSun. As I responded, being rather disgustedand shell-shocked at the moment, I revertedto my old habit of cracking puns. As I drovehome that evening, I tuned into WTOP radioto listen to Doug Llewellyn’s 5 minutehuman interest program, only to hear himdescribe this NASA scientist who lost the

Moon - each comment punctuated by one ofmy puns. This tid-bit was so amusing that itwas broadcast nationally.

The sample was found 2 years laterwhen the x-ray technician cleaned out hisroom. By then no fuss about the prodigalsample’s return. Two good things came fromall this: 1) several old girlfriends wrote me,having seen the news release, and 2) becausewe had to delay our vacation trip toArizona, I was on hand when a fierce storm

blew over the willow tree in our backyard,which with a neighbor’s help we righted andreplanted.

Thus, by spring of 1970 my deckshad been cleared and I was now ready to bemetamorphosed (without the shock) into afulltime remote senser. By this time, theadvent of ERTS had begun to dominate myactivities and that of many colleagues. But,first I needed to master the fundamentals ofremote sensing. Fortunately, there wereseveral in our Division quite willing to tutorme.

After returning from the westerntrip, I now was committed to full time inRemote Sensing. I was fortunate in the twopeople who were my immediate supervisors.My Branch Chief was Dr. Warren Hovis, aspectroscopist, specializing in the Infrared,who had learned his “trade” in the U.S.Army. Warren was a tall and large man whoalways treated me with respect, being awarethat I was coming in “cold” to this new field.He patiently and gradually taught me the“ropes” in aircraft remote sensing and wasthe one who steered me into Nimbus imageanalysis. He encouraged me to learn aboutthe reflection spectroscopy of rocks andminerals, using his instrument called theHovis Sphere (his reputation was built as asensor designer while in the Air Forceearlier) for laboratory spectral analysis andthen his field spectrometer (which I wouldoperate out of doors under naturalconditions.) The Assistant Division Chiefwas Mr. Bill Bandeen, also a friendly boss, ameteorologist who added to my knowledgebased on Nimbus and TIROS image analysis.

But, the most influential of all, eventhough I dealt with him much less often, wasDr. William Nordberg. He was an Austrian(who fought in the Second World War on theGerman side) who came to this country in

the late ‘40s, along with his lovely wife,Trixie. Both by then spoke excellent Englishwith only hints of an accent. Bill joinedNASA in the early ‘60s and rose rapidlybecause of his expertise in meteorologicalsatellites. He was a dynamic (and somewhatimpatient) leader who had the gift ofinspiring those under him, or associates, tobecome fully committed to their particularinvolvement in space programs. I was oftenasked to sit in on his weekly staff meetingsand witness how he operated. His mind wasgoing full tilt and his demands for resultswere persistent. Most in the meetingsstayed rather docile, with participants beinga bit intimidated by him. But for somereason, whenever something came up aboutwhich I knew or wanted to do, I becameargumentative with him, if I thought myposition was firm, rather than justacquiescent to his viewpoint. I think Billenjoyed the spats we would sometimeshave, because he was naturally combativeand hoped to have people disagree with him.Several of our sparrings were rather brisk buthe never downgraded me if I was firm in mythinking. Despite these clashes, my respectand admiration for Bill Nordberg remainedhigh throughout our times of interaction.

Most of my time at Goddard in theFall ’70 to Spring ’71 was committed tolearning more about the theory andapplications of remote sensing. I workedwith Dr. Norman MacLeod (for 3 years, myroom mate) on analysis of multispectralimagery. We recognized a need for an opticalinstrument that would allow individualspectral band images to be superimposed tomake a color composite projected on ascreen. I designed a basic concept and thengot NASA to fund a company, I2S, to build aprototype for our use (they then put thesame instrument on the general market).

Norm and I published this simulation studyas a NASA paper. Meanwhile, I had toprepare a proposal for being selected as aPrincipal Investigator when ERTS-1 wentup in the Summer of 1972. I decided tomake Wyoming geology - of which I knewmuch from fieldwork there during my GulfOil days - the test site area for study. Icontacted the Chairman of the GeologyDept, Dr. Robert S. Houston, to ask that heand other staff join me as Co-Investigators.They eagerly became part of my effort.

At that time, all I had to work within preparing the Wyoming project wasNimbus imagery, such as this view:

Nimbus vidicon image of parts ofWyoming and Utah

Honestly, while it was neat to seemuch of Wyoming and surrounding states, Iwas not impressed or excited by theprospects of doing geology from spacebecause of the poor resolution. I learnedalmost nothing new and began to wonderwhat ERTS could provide that would beinstructive and novel. In other words, “Whathad I gotten myself into?” Maybe staying atGoddard wasn’t such a good idea; maybe Ishould look into academe again and get backto my areas of training and interest.

But that would be feasible only inthe longer run. For now, I had better proveto my management that I couldmetamorphose into a bonafide remotesensing specialist. I did have one advantageto build on: my Ph.D. thesis on traceelements in soils involved using an opticalemission spectrograph, so I had somebackground in spectroscopy. I decided tolearn more about the kinds of spectro-instruments available to me in my Division.One was the Hovis Sphere, a black-linedsphere combined with a scanningspectrometer, which produced definitivespectral plots of target objects within it. Ihad a collection of samples from Wyomingobtained during my Gulf Oil days. Spectralcurves (shown at the top of the next page)for these different stratigraphic units werethus run on Hovis’ instrument. And theresults made some sense to me.

Spectral Curves for some typicalWyoming stratigraphic units.

Warren Hovis’ group had also built aportable field spectrometer which he urgedme to learn to use. It was rather big andcumbersome. One day, with the aid of atechnician in the Branch, I brought the unitoutside of Building 6 at Goddard. But at firstI was unsure as to what targets I shouldexamine. Grass (by the building), concrete(walkways), and asphalt (parkinglot) didn’t seem too appropriate, although Idid obtain their spectra. Then, I hit upon adiverse target category - the many coloredvehicles in the parking lot. How well can thespectrometer differentiate these colors? Weset up a the first car - blue as I recall, and gotits spectral curve. We must have appeared asa weird pair to those going to the building’scafeteria. Did about 15 more, and proved tomyself that the vehicles could bedistinguished this way, while realizing thatcolor will perhaps be a (or the) primeparameter in interpreting imagery fromERTS and similar systems.

But, my mind still dwelled oncratering and lunar geology. One day in

February of 1971 I called Mike Dence inOttawa to ask his opinion about the effectsof crater wall slumping on crater diameterand volume of fill. After hanging up thephone, I sat back and stared at a map of theMoon’s frontside, focusing on its craters. Inan instant, I had a profound inspiration -that “electric light bulb” moment thatscientists seek in hopes of a quantum leapinsight. If all those basins and craters, from a1000 kilometers down to a few meters, wereto toss out a certain fraction of the targetrock beyond the immediate confines of theexcavated basin/crater, and if that ejectadidn’t leave the Moon (as was mostprobable), then it had to come to restelsewhere on the lunar surface. Thus, if I justcalculated that fraction for each larger crateror basin, using the dimension information wealready had from terrestrial observations,then I could compute the total volume of allsuch ejecta spread around the Moon. Using abroken slide rule (the sliding plexiglass withits vertical hairline used to mark a new spotwas missing), within an hour I had arrived ata number which ranged between 1.4 and 2.4kilometers as the average (assuming auniformly spread) thickness of the so-calledimpact ejecta blanket that had beenpresupposed to exist on the Moon (exposedin the Highlands but buried [largely removedfrom sight] in the Basins, such as MareImbrium). I realized that this thicknesswould vary depending on the distribution ofthe larger craters and basins. So in the nextfew days I refined my model to yield anisopach (thickness variability) map adjustedfor the actual Moon with its different-sizedBasins.

Isopach map showing generalizeddistribution of lunar ejecta blankets

I was very excited. This seemed amajor discovery of great import in futurelunar missions. But, I felt that reporting mycalculations as made by slide rule wasn’t tooelegant or convincing. So, I decided to redothe whole process using a computer. Ineeded a programmer to help produce thealgorithms, etc. required to run the model. Ienlisted the aid of Mr. Michael Forman. Weobtained a set of computer tapes from theLunar and Planetary Lab at the University ofArizona, on which were all the diameters ofcrater/basins from 3.5 to 500 km. I refinedthe model and tested it. When satisfied, weran the program. The results came backalmost the same as those with the slide rule.I decided to publish this as a paper. BecauseI was on the Editorial Board of ModernGeology (from 1970 through 1985, whenthat periodical went defunct), I could arrangefor a rapid review. It was quickly accepted.As I was reading the galley proofs, a pressconference released the results of GaryLatham’s seismometer readings at Apollos

11, 12, and 14 sites (thus providing 3 pointson the lunar surface). He noted that therewas strong evidence of a 2 km-thick lowvelocity zone in the Highlands. Thisconfirmed my conclusions, and I tacked on aNote added in Proof relating thisinformation. As soon as I got reprints, Imailed them to many of the astrogeologistswho would be interested. (Let me say herethat there was enough doubt within the lunarcommunity about my conclusions that, overthe years, at least 6 more papers werepublished to report other approaches to thesame topic; in all cases, they affirmed mygeneral results.) In one sense, this was to bethe most important paper of my career sinceit could influence the choice of Apollolanding sites for the next missions.

I had obtained my insights during thetime that the Apollo Site Selectioncommittee was choosing a site for Apollo16. The USGS team supporting that processhad recommended the Cayley Plains in theHighlands because, they guaranteed, theprincipal rock materials there would bevolcanic deposits (both ejecta and ash). Mymodel said that the dominant rock would beimpact ejecta. I then phoned BillMuehlberger (U. Texas) to tell him that Ithought the site would not show anyevidence of major volcanic deposition. Hepassed this prediction to the committee (ofwhich he was a member) but my modeldidn’t sway them in their decision (who am Ito challenge and contradict the USGS!). Offwent Apollo 16 - it found only impactejecta.

One might think the committeewould have learned from this. The Apollo 17committee (chaired by my friend, Dr. FaroukEl Baz) met to consider the recommendationfrom the USGS. This time the boys fromFlagstaff were blunt in their certainty that

their first choice of sites, Taurus-Littrow,would be replete with volcanics. Myisopach map showed that there would be 3kilometers of impact ejecta there. Oncemore, Muehlberger was my advocate; again,I was overruled.

So, off went Jack Schmitt (ageologist) and his buddies to the 17 site. Onthe first day’s excursion, Jack looked up atthe 1.5 km high North Massif, and the rockswithin it, and said from the Moon that NickShort was right - its all impact ejecta. Thenext day, they operated a smallseismograph-thumper to determine whatwas below the landing site. The result: 1.5km of low velocity rock. Adding the two1.5’s gave just 3.0 km - precisely myprediction (I think I was lucky). So, about$5 billion dollars had been spent going toUSGS sites - interesting in their own right -but not finding what they were after. Myview of the lunar highlands was confirmed.No one from the Branch of Astrogeology,the site selection committee, or anyone inNASA ever had the simple guts toacknowledge my correct prediction (El Bazdid phone me to say that I was on tosomething). Later, when I talked with JackSchmitt in Florida (1974), he did personallypraise my contribution. But, in the literature,it is hard to find any reference to this, mymost important contribution to Science.Who says the system is “honest” and “fair”.

By 1971, a humongous task awaitedme: the evaluation of more than 500proposals for ERTS-1 investigations. Thiswas to be the largest such effort of its kindin the history of NASA. It was scheduledfor two full weeks (including Saturdays) inlate June at a Ramada Inn located just ofHwy 450 and the Washington Beltway.Hours were from 8:30 until well into theevening each day. The whole top floor of the

hotel was rented by NASA. More than 80evaluators were involved.

Although I was by then the GeologyDiscipline leader for the ERTS program, Iwas not able to participate in the geologyproposal evaluations because I had my ownproposal in that group. So, I was switchedinstead to the Geography Group, serving asco-chair; most evaluators were fromUniversities or Industry. Our group hadabout 70 proposals, some of which I hadstarted to read even before going to St.Louis. I read them all, and appraised eachcarefully. This was a new experience for me.It proved very hard for me to decide whichare the better (best) ones, partly because Iwas somewhat out of my field, but mainlybecause most seemed good, and I had qualmsabout quashing enough of them to pare thecollection down to a workable few. We allspent hours reading, then met twice each dayto summarize. The last day found us makingthe final reduction and organizing ourrecommendations. These were given in aplenary session to the ERTS Review Board;we had to defend our choices against somestrong questioning. After that, the NASApersonnel needed another two weeks to putall the deliberations and results into adocument form sent to Headquarters. It wasat this Ramada exercise that I first met Mr.Robert Stewart from Johnson Space Center.He was to become my assistant in theGeology Discipline Program for the next fewyears; I must have made about 6 trips toHouston during those 4 years.

I learned (sub rosa, from PaulLowman) that my Wyoming proposal hadbeen accepted (was well thought of) butwith a major revision. The reviewers decidedthat I would not be given enough field time(since they knew how tight the travel budgetwas) to be the leader in carrying out the

investigation. So, they on their own selectedBob Houston as the P.I., making me a Co-I.Although I was totally p.o’ed, I was forcedto accept this compromise. But later Ilearned that this was an illegal action - noP.I. can be reassigned without hispermission. I was never consulted. Iconsidered making a formal complaint butdecided that I might “win the battle but losethe war.” Anyway, getting the grant allowedthe U. of Wyoming to hire a full time remotesenser for their staff, Dr. Ron Marrs, whohad just completed his Ph.D. under BobReeves when the latter was at ColoradoSchool of Mines. I worked with Ron onWyoming projects until 1978. In October of1971, I had NASA fly a U-2 aircraft missionover areas of Wyoming that would becomeour prime targets for ERTS study. Theentire Wind River Basin was covered,including also a swath across the WindRiver Mountains, which was split by huge,open fractures.

Joints and fractures in granitic rocks ofthe Wind River Range

I experimented with mapping usingthe resulting aerial photos (taken from analtitude of 70000 ft). The results were given

as a poster paper at the 1972 GSA AnnualMeeting in Minneapolis (Herb Blodgett asco-author). I then contracted with theAeroService Corp. in Philadelphia to havethem make a controlled mosaic (removing thevignetting at the joins) which was almost asgood as the one they had made of LosAngeles. I also completed my spectrographicsignature development for Wyoming rocksbut never did succeed in applying thatinformation to the aerial photo analysis. Iwas still, up to then, an amateur in remotesensing.

Anticipation reached a high pitch asthe launch date for ERTS-1 approached inmid-‘72. I myself had remained unconvincedthat it would become a powerful new spacetool, since my experiences with aerialmultispectral images hadn’t yielded muchthat was new. I was openly andoutspokenly skeptical.

Launch was on July 23, 1972 in theearly afternoon. It was a cliffhanger: as thecountdown went down to about 20 seconds,a voice at Mission Control shouted “Hold!”.There was a 30 minute delay to fix aproblem. Then, the count resumed andeverything was picture perfect. We watchedover closed-circuit TV. Orbit was achievedand the sensors (MSS and RBV) activatedflawlessly over the next several days.

Three days later, more than ahundred scientists and technicians gatheredin the Mission Control area awaiting the firstreturned images. What was brought to uswas a polaroid picture of some area on anorbit line that went from Minnesota towardsTexas. There were very few gray levels inthis image. Nobody had a clue as to wherethey were looking.

The first ERTS scene, after reprocessing:Dallas-Fort Worth, Texas

We got out an Atlas but that didn’thelp at first. Someone thought it might beDallas-Fort Worth but the black patternsexplained as water didn’t fit the assemblageof lakes in the area. Only when someonenoted that the Atlas was 10 years old didanyone postulate that these lakes were partof a reservoir system in which at least twonew bodies of water had developed after thepublication date. It was Dallas but no onewas inspired by that particular polaroidimage, which had just two levels of gray.

Several hours went by and then atechnician entered with a small cancontaining a role of 70 mm film from thevery first orbit. No one knew - except me -how to mount the film in a viewer in theroom. As I reeled through the images on thisviewer, big chiefs crowded behind me. Forthe first 10 frames, nothing but clouds. Thenthe cloud bank abruptly ended and a fullcloudfree scene occupied the screen. Thearea was of the closed folds of the OuachitaMountains (part of the Appalachians) inwestern Arkansas-eastern Oklahoma.

The first identified ERTS scene: OuachitaMtns. of Eastern Oklahoma

The scene was stunning - I gasped insurprise. The details were amazing. It wasthen that I made two cogent statements:First, I turned to Len Jaffe, the AssociateAdministrator for the Earth Sciences, anduttered these immortal words “I am sowrong in my prediction, that it will not beenough just to eat crow - I MUST EATRAVEN !”. He used that line in talks hegave to Congress and across the country.Then I prophesized that “If the rest of theERTS pictures are like these, then someonehas to put them in a Picture Book for theworld to see.” Little did I think then that Iwould be the creator of such a book. I waseven more a convert to ERTS when the firstcolor image came out the following day,showing the central California coastal areaaround Monterrey. From then on, I visitedthe image production facility almost daily.

Soon thereafter I began agitating foran opportunity to go into the field withERTS imagery to check it out. This timeNordberg gave it his full blessing and clearedthe way. A cloud free pass over Wyomingoccurred in August. It was not until late theday before I was scheduled to depart forWyoming that four key black and white

image sets were processed and convertedinto transparencies and prints. One image, ofthe Wind River Basin, was a colorcomposite. I picked them up at midnight.

False color composite of the Wind RiverMtns and Basin

The next morning I was on a plane toWyoming via Denver (it was on the Denver-Casper leg on a Frontier DC-3 that I dozedoff at night, awoke to what I thought wastumbleweeds rushing past the wings, andshouted that we were crashing - minor panicamong the passengers; it turned out that thepilot was flying into a freak snowstorm andI was seeing flakes).

I was joined there by Bob Houstonand Ron Marrs. We all went into the fieldfor two days, learning how to locateourselves and to read the imagery. A novelexperience. (Our trip to the Medicine BowMountains included a stop for lunch at arustic restaurant where I had a stewconcocted around a mix of deer-elk-antelopemeat.) They then went back to Laramie and Ispent three days more touring other parts ofthe state. When I returned to Laramie, Bobasked me to accompany him and Ron toCheyenne to make a presentation to officials

of the Natural Resources Department of theState of Wyoming. This we “winged” withthe imagery on hand. The officials seemednonplused and perhaps unimpressed. Ilearned a few weeks later that they hadactually been fascinated. They were involvedin a three year, multimillion dollar inventoryof the entire Powder River Basin. Theycontracted (for $50000) with the GeologyDept. to see what ERTS could do to help.The Dept. finished its study in December of1972, turned over 5 hand colored copies tothe State, who then decided that it wassufficiently complete such that the rest ofthe project could be halted. When I got mycopy (a large folio, blue-bound), I took it toHeadquarters, and Len Jaffe and JohnDenoyer in particular, quickly recognized itspropaganda value and took it with them toCongress during hearings as proof of the costsavings ERTS could bring to variousapplications.

I arrived back at Goddard just in timeto be a star attraction - as the first NASAscientist to go into the field with ERTS - in ahastily called Conference of Investigatorsdesigned to exchange experiences in the useof ERTS. I did an impromptu review of theWyoming trek, supported by quicklydeveloped 35 mm slides showing groundfeatures to compare with theirrepresentation in the ERTS image. I made apoint that intrigued the attendees: I could seein the images dirt roads that were less than20 m wide, detectable below the 79 mresolution quoted for the MSS because thecontrast of the light dirt against the sagebackground swamped a pixel with highreflectance, thus making that pixel appearmuch brighter than off roadones.

After the conference there was afrenzy of activity as new, often spectacular

images were produced daily. I came to hauntthe Image Processing facilty in Bldg 22, nearMission Control. Throwaway pictures couldbe retrieved, so I started building acollection. My thoughts of an Atlas werecrystallizing but I wanted to have a year toacquire a diverse set and to decide what thebest format would be. I also started workingon the Wyoming imagery, using the coloradditive viewer and then, for the first time inmy life, the capabilities of computerprocessing. At that time we were relying onJPL’s processing program -VICAR-developed for analysis of planetary probedata. We soon added IDIMs as an alternativesystem.

As I learned more about theWyoming scenes, I felt the time had come tomake an extended field trip there. Nordbergvetoed my travel request. I hit the ceiling -saying that it was his idea for me to honchoa major study like that - but he cited tighttravel money (tight because he was travelingalmost weekly, along with the senior staff,leaving us lackeys to just look at prettypictures). I had a real donneybrook argumentwith him in his office - did he get mad! Ifinally got travel money in 1973 for a trip to

Wyoming, during which I field checked someof the classifications (this time using PennState’s ORSER program). The one of theWillow Lake area on the southwest flank ofthe Wind River Mountains was the mostconvincing. On the day I was to visit thatsite, it rained incessantly. So, I bought a setof colored pencils and in the motel Ienhanced the map by assigning differentcolors to the different feature categories forease of reading. Meanwhile, Ron Marrs wasfinding out a lot about applicability. Hiscolleague, Prof. Ed Decker had used ERTS tomap fractures in the Wind River Mtns,producing a case study that was sopowerful, it became the standard for thatapplication. The next graphic underscoresthat point. Prior to ERTS there was no mapof Wind River lineaments, as this mountainblock was too rugged for extended fieldwork. The U-2 flight line gave Dr. Decker acontrol base for his ERTS interpretation. Hetold me later that the whole interpretationsession took only three hours to make themap below. To test veracity he did spendsome field time later, finding evidence forthese linear features wherever he checked.

Lineaments maps of the Wind River Range (Left: pre-ERTS; Decker’s early work attop left, with U-2 Flight strip; Right: using ERTS)

Most of my time was tied up incontinual monitoring of the GeologyPrincipal Investigators reports. I was“cursed” (?) with the largest number of grantcontracts (about 60) to be monitored ofanyone at Goddard. This required constantphone calls and other interactions. Someinvestigators were doing a great job,providing much insight; others were flops.The most common use of the ERTS datawas in mapping fractures (lineaments; theterm “linears” crept in but was eventuallydiscarded as slang). Yngvar Isachsen of theN.Y. Geol. Survey made a superlative studyof fractures in the Adirondacks. The othercommon use was in recognizing alterationaround ore deposits; the work by LarryRowan and by Alex Goetz were exemplary,and several foreign ones were notable.

As 1972 closed, Norm MacLeod,Vince Salomonson and I prepared animportant review and position paper onusing ERTS-1 as a global mapping tool. Ialso submitted a paper describing how ERTScould be used in geological studies, whichwas the Cover Story article in a 1973 issueof GeoTimes. In 1973 the Second ERTSSymposium was held at Goddard; the ThirdSymposium in 1974. I had the task ofsummarizing the significant results inGeology for the Publications that evolvedfrom these meetings. In 1973, I teamed withPaul Lowman to write another positionpaper on the Outlook for using SpaceImagery in the Geological Sciences;published as a NASAwide document.

In 1973 I came up with another idea:preparing a mosaic (using black and whiteERTS images) of the conterminous 48United States. This stemmed from arecommendation in the global mapping papermentioned in the previous paragraph. It was

approved and funded at a cost of nearly$500,000. The Soil Conservation Serviceaerial photo lab was contracted to do thisjob. My colleague, Art Anderson, wasplaced in charge of the routine interactionwith the SCS. Chuck Bohn, a sort of “jack ofall trades” at Goddard joined in the effort (hewould work with me on occasions over thenext 10 years until he left GSFC). Themosaic was completed (along with Alaskaand Hawaii) in 1974 and made quite asensation (one version occupied more that12 feet of a wall when mounted). So muchinterest arose that the National GeographicSociety commissioned a color mosaic (bothred false color and green natural color)produced by the General Electric SpaceSciences image lab in Beltsville. Here is partof the original SCS map, showing most ofthe desert southwest:

Part of the first b & w ERTS mosaic of thecoterminous United StatesDuring the same time, I contracted with GEto produce a color mosaic of all of Wyoming,shown below. This may have been the firstsuch mosaic that covered an entire state.

First ERTS color mosaic, showing all ofWyoming

In 1973, the Planetology Branch wasdisbanded. Most of its personnel stayed atGoddard: to MIT). The Branch Chief, LouWalter, was grabbed by Bill Nordberg to beHead of the newly created Earth SciencesDivision. Along with Paul, the two Herbs -Tiedemann and Blodget, and Herm Thomas,Charles Schnetzler, and Phil Cressy, I wasreassigned to Lou’s Division, although for awhile I stayed in Hovis’ Branch.

I remained quartered with NormMacLeod at this time. He had teamed withJane Schubert on various applications ofspace imagery. But, he, being an idealist andhumanitarian, found the travel limitations atGoddard too stifling for him to contribute.So later, he talked his way (literally) into anappointment with the American University,where he was on staff for many years. Janeeventually migrated to Ottawa to work forthe Canadian Center for Remote Sensing; shelater married its Director.

In 1973, I was asked to be thementor for a visiting NAS Associate, Dr.William Finch, a geographer at San DiegoState University. We worked very closely;he decided I was a go-getter and latched on

to me, so that we were jointly active inseveral projects (my wife, Ellie and I becamegood friends with him and his wife Vivian).He was a real sleuth at finding outstandingLandsat images; his discoveries reactivatedmy original vision the day the first imagescame back of a picture book featuring imagesthat would give a world view. I talked bothPaul Lowman and Vince Salomonson to joinus as co-authors. But, soon Lou Walter gotwind of our idea and told us bluntly that thiswas not a proper project for scientists; if wetry to carry out our plan, we would bedisciplined (fired?). Vince backed out; theothers agreed to my approach of puttingtogether a strawman version on my owntime, which I would then plop onNordberg’s desk, going over Lou’s authority,and getting Bill to sign off and providefunding. So, for much of ’73, I assembledthree loose leaf binders full of images. This Idid at home (even as I struggled to completethe Planetary Geology book), often bygetting cardboard boxes containing 500 ormore images from the Image Processing Lab,placing them next to my chair in the TVfamily room, and going through them one byone (viewing the TV 20 seconds out of eachminute - enough to get the gist of theprogram), extracting candidates and winners.

By early ’74 I had a superlativecollection of more than 200 outstandingERTS images, some with captions. This Idelivered to Nordberg. Within a week hecalled me in, bursting with enthusiasm. I toldhim about the Lou Walter veto and threat; hehit the ceiling, chewed Lou out, and gave mecarte blanche to work (parttime) on the book(whose title Mission to Earth: LandsatViews the World was suggested to me byBevan French; ERTS by 1975 had beenrenamed Landsat). Lou never recognized thebook’s existence, after it came out, and never

praised it despite its huge success; in fact, henever really forgave me for going over hishead, and got even (explained later). I willdiscuss the highlights of putting this booktogether (we replaced Vince, who had bowedout, with Stan Freden who had become aBranch Chief in another Division) in severalparagraphs later.

But the highlights of this year bothoccurred in May. In early May WalterCronkite, the famed news broadcaster, cameto Goddard to gather material for a SpecialCBS was doing on the applications of Spaceto society. I was chosen to be the technicalperson he interviewed on camera. When Imet with him, he tried to put me at easewhile I tried to hardsell him on ERTS. Wediscovered that both are native Missourians,so that smoothed the conversation. My bitwas to explain how black and white imagescan be converted into color and, especially,what the false color red version means. Thisended in about a one minute segment in thespecial, which was aired that Fall.

Walter Cronkite with Bill Nordberg andyours truly before my interview that waslater shown on CBS

This reminds me: Just a few monthsearlier, I was the technical adviser for a 30minute NASA film that summarized ERTS

and remote sensing. I helped to define thecontents and prepare the script. I was filmedusing the I2S Additive Viewer to produce afalse color composite image. When the filmwas finished and released, I found to myhorror that some imbecile had edited out thekey moment when the third image is addedto give the red color. Thus, this processmade no sense to most viewers of the film. Iraised the roof with the NASA Headquarterspeople doing this project, but the film hadbeen finalized, so the error would have to betolerated. This, in my opinion, is anindictment of the great failing of NASA andGovernment Science - accuracy (truth) takessecond to costs.

The biggest trip of my life began inlate May of 1974. I was selected to be partof a two-man mission, sponsored and paidfor by AID (Agency for InternationalDevelopment) of the State Department. Fivecountries in SouthEast Asia had planned tohold separate symposia on the use of ERTSfor applications in their respective nations.My traveling partner, and Senior in theMission, was Mr. John Boechel, Chief ofthe Engineering Directorate (Code 700) atGoddard. My role was as the technicalexpert. We would meet in Bangkok for thefirst program. Each chose a separateitinerary. Mine took me first into theSouthern Hemisphere.

I had previously received invitationsto give talks in both New Zealand andAustralia. I requested travel support tohonor these requests and to my surprise Igot the funds from NASA Headquarters.What I thought of as a small detour wasactually a 7000 mile side trip. I elected theoption of returning via Europe, so I couldclaim that I had actually gone around theWorld. After a 17 hour flight, I arrived in

Auckland, to be met by two officials and tointerview of their national TV.

That day we drove as far as LakeTaupo, and visited the Wairakei geothermal(geyser) field. That night I took a dip in themotel’s heated (by the thermal waters fromWairakei) swimming pool - and received amajor shock. The full Moon, as I floated onmy back, was Upside Down relative to theorientation in the northern hemisphere. I’dwritten a book - Planetary Geology - largelyabout the Moon but had never heard of thisflip-flop.

The next day we drove toWellington, and specifically to the suburb ofLower Hutt, where the Department ofNatural Resourcess is headquartered. Myhost there was Peter Ellis, a youngEnglishman who had emigrated to N.Z. toset up that country’s remote sensingprogram; he had stopped enroute six monthsearlier at Goddard where I was his principalcontact. I stayed in their home for twonights. On the first day, I gave my firstlecture of the trip to about 60 personnel. Iremained in contact with Peter for the next12 years.

Then on to Melbourne in Australiawhere I lectured at their University. Next, toCanberra where I gave a talk not aboutremote sensing but about my lunar studies.On to Sydney, another talk, and finallycompleting my 6000 mile detour via Manila,Hong Kong, and then to Bangkok, site of thefirst of four ERTS symposia.

At Bangkok, we went to the ThaiInstitute of Technology for the two dayprogram. In the audience was a student who,today, is the proprietor of a Thai Restaurantin Shawnee-on-the-Delaware in easternPennsylvania - he remembers me from thatoccasion. We had Thai fast food for lunch.The talks by John and me went well; locals

gave most of theirs in English. One couldn’thelp but feel important in such anenvironment. I developed a strong liking forthe Thai people. The real highlight was adinner hosted by the Symposium thatincluded 8 (visually stunning) Thai dancinggirls. I was coaxed, red-faced, on to the floorto dance with one.

I ended up giving the keynoteaddress for the Symposium.

Nick Short at the Bangkok Symposium

While at the meetings, one of theThai scientists came to me with an offer:When I returned to pass through Bangkokenroute home, why not stay and accompanyhim to his field project: measuring elephanttrack distribution - their footprints filledwith water and became puddles for malaria-carrying mosquitoes. Wanted to but myschedule had been firmly locked in. Nextstop was in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

From there, we went on to Jakarta,Indonesia . After being met by a State Dept.representative, we were driven to the finestluxury quarters in the country - the HotelIndonesia. That night John and I had what,as I look back on life, was the mostextraordinary and sumptious (banquet) feastof my life. Every Sunday evening the Hotelput on a huge Java “Smorgasbord” for bothtourists and leading citizens. There were two

long (20 ft) tables each loaded with nativefoods and delicacies. In between a Javanesesat cross-legged while cooking meat wrappedin a peanut butter paste. At the far end wasa dessert table more delectable than any I’veever gazed at. The meal started withalcoholic drinks. I truly “pigged” out, tryingas many different dishes as I could manage.While we ate, a 20 piece Gamelin band(mostly brass and cymbals) played for ourentertainment, and later 12 dancing girls fromJava performed. I went to bed that nighthaving apparently survived the orgy of mylife.

The next day was the start of the 2-day Symposium. It was attended by severalhundred scientists and technologists, and bya half dozen or so government ministers(Heads of Agencies) and by a few ArmyGenerals. We were placed center stage. Bothof us gave our now routine talks (withslides) and then the rest of the morning (until1 PM) was given to talks, unfortunately allin native language(s).

Afterwards, a General had us asguests at the city’s most exclusive ChineseDum Sung restaurants. Chinese girls came byevery few minutes with carts laden with“goodies”, which the General kept havingput on our plates. This was almost the equalof the previous night.

That night I was violently sick (fromthe gastric cuisine overload). Threw up forhours. But, by morning I had purged mysystem and had a hardy breakfast. John hadexperienced no problems. Off we went tothe second day of meetings. About an hourinto the proceedings, I looked at John andhis face had turned the most amazing shadeof medium gray-green I could image a humanto assume. He was clearly quite ill. Werushed him off stage; the General called for amilitary vehicle to take him to the American

Embassy medical facilities, where he wastreated by a Doctor who was a native ofBowie, MD (my home at this time). Johnwas returned in the evening, more or lessrecovered. Just too much rich food!

But, by default, I was now the actinghead of the U.S. mission. We had a lunch forall participants. I was the guest of honor,seated at a round table that included the U.S.and Canadian Ambassadors, 3 Ministers(including Energy, and Commerce), and 2generals. Every one focused on me, withquestions. This was “top dog” stuff, and Iwas a bit queasy about my role. So, Idecided to take the offensive. I turned to theCanadian Ambassador and asked him abouthis country’s abundance of impact craters -about which he professed no knowledge.Then I glanced at one of the Ministers, andsaw a look of envy creep across his face. Isensed that I had probably just committed adiplomatic “faux pas”. Sure enough, he askedif Indonesia had any such wonderful things.A moment’s panic, then I answered “Well,no, Sir, the geology is not suited to theirpreservation, but, of course, your countryhas the World’s greatest collection ofVolcanoes” I was greeted with a big smile -World War III averted.

Singapore was our last formal stop. Ireturned home by way of New Delhi,Karachi, Beirut, and overnights in Istanbuland Athens.

Bill Finch returned for a secondsummer (1974) as an Associate at Goddard.Paul and I had by then finished most of thecaptions we would write for Mission toEarth. But Bill had finished only a few of the40 images assigned to him. Thus, he hadbecome the rate-controlling factor in our planto have the Book finished in time for itsappearance during the Bicentennialcelebrations in 1976. He suffered from a

mental block, or a lack of confidence, indoing this task which should have beensimple for a geographer. I came up with aexpedient scheme to get him to do the job. InJuly the two families rented a cottage atAvon, in the North Carolina Outer Banks(from there the Finch’s were to go to theirchildhood home in Wilmington, NC). Whilemy son and I played each day (I was donewith my quota), often swimming in theocean, I had Bill working most of each dayon his writing. My inducement (“carrot on astick”) was to control the evening cocktailhour - nothing for him unless and until hehad finished 8 for the day. It worked - like acharm.

During that summer, an amusingincident occurred. I had been studying acomputer-enhanced image of the WashingtonLandsat MSS scene, which I had printed asan enlargement on high quality photo paper.There were several areas northwest of DCthat had some anomalies I couldn’t explain.Time to check them in the field. One was inthe Catoctin Mountains northwest ofFrederick, MD. There, the Presidentialretreat at Camp David is located. Bill Finchand another summer intern went with me bygovernment (NASA) car. We got to within afew miles of Camp David, stopped, and gotout to look around. I had the ERTS pictureon the back of the vehicle when a MarylandState Trooper happened by. He got out,questioned us as to why we were there. Hespotted the picture, which was a false colorcomposite in which vegetation is shown inred .

Maryland State Trooper asking about theLandsat image of the area

He asked just what this photo was. Itried to explain. He then asked why it wasred. I (foolishly) answered (in jest):“Because it is the Communist version”. Thatdid it. He detained us while he radioed firstthe police, then the FBI, and finally at mybehest, NASA Goddard, where our identitywas verified. I tried to explain my “humor”but it was a half hour before he let us go,with instructions not to proceed toward theCamp David compound. In retrospect, I stillthink it was funny.

In December 1974, I summarizedwhat was being learned about the use ofERTS to search for new oil fields andmineral deposits at a Symposium in Miami,FL on Remote Sensing for Energy-relatedProblems. Apollo 17 Astronaut Jack Schmittwas the keynote speaker, and Nick, met him,impressing Jack with his knowledge as a 9year old.

In this period into the middle of1975, I finished the major components ofMission to Earth. The editing then took overa year. The person assigned by the NASAHeadquarters Technical Publications Office(by then under the direction of KayVogelwede, with whom I had furtherdealings for the next ten years) was a

wonderful lady, Anne Schmidt, who workedwith me on this and two other (later) NASAbooks. Many problems ensued but all wereresolved and a final version was assembled inlate 1976. The printing was done inIndianapolis during January 1977. Both PaulLowman (for part of the time) and I (fulltime) had to be present at the Printers forthat month to supervise the production andespecially to give advice on getting the colors“just right” (the chief printer was veryfussy, trying too hard for perfectduplication, not realizing that the versionswe were using weren’t necessarily optimum,being arbitrary). We had to be present oravailable from 8 in the morning until the endof the second shift at Midnight. Life in thattown was tough, this being the coldestJanuary (one night down to a minus 26° F)ever on record there.

The book began distribution inFebruary of 1977. Because we had hoped tohave the book’s publication coincide withthe Bicentennial, we backdated itspublication to 1976. People in the NASAfamily received copies right away, fromAdministrator on down. Praise for the endresult was very high, indeed. Over the nexttwo years, it won almost uniformly strongapprobation from reviewers across theGlobe. The first printing of 25000 copies(the entire cost of the book to that time wasmore than $350,000) sold (at the bargain,subsidized price of $14) out in months and asecond printing of 25000 copies followed.

Mission to Earth: NASA SP-360

Perhaps the best proof that such abook was a valuable way to publicize NASAand the Earth Resources program was that inthe next five years at least four other similarbooks using mainly Landsat were published.The book received a Group AchievementAward from NASA and the AutometricsAward from the American Society ofPhotogrammetry, both in 1977. The bookwas complemented by another: ERTS - ANew Window on our Planet, consisting ofarticles by various staff of the U.S.Geological Survey who had conductedstudies of geology and various otherapplications; its editors, Dr. RichardWilliams, Jr. and William Douglas Carterwere both receptive to sharing informationbetween the two books (theirs came out in1976, beating Mission to Earth by almost 9months); that book complemented Missionby concentrating on in-depth case studies.

But, for me, the highest honors werethese. I sent copies to Richard Nixon, whoanswered graciously, and to HubertHumphrey, then in the hospital dying ofcancer, who sent me a wonderful personal

note indicating that he had read through itcarefully as a diversion during his time ofgreat suffering. I sent two copies toPresident Jimmy Carter (one specificallyearmarked for Amy). Several weeks later Ireceived a call from Dr. Frank Press (withwhom I had contact during the LawrenceLivermore cratering days), then the ScientificAdvisor to the President, requesting that 50more copies be directed to the White House,where Pres. Carter would give a copy to anyvisiting Head of State if that person’scountry were pictured in the book. In sum,Mission to Earth proved to be the secondmost popular book ever sponsored byNASA. I certainly proved Lou Walter to bewrong.

Returning to 1975, one change in myjob status was important: at Lou Walter’sbidding, a small Geology Group wasestablished, with Paul Lowman, HerbBlodget, Herb Tiedemann, and MelPodwysocki as personnel, under mydirection. Paul left the group not long after,since his interests in space imagery weresupplanted at the time by studies oftectonics. But the others worked with me onprojects for the next two years. The highpoint would come in 1976, as describedlater.

Research-wise, I spent much of mytime still coordinating Landsat investigationsand, personally, extending my studies ofspace imagery for lineaments mapping. I didhave to interrupt this work for a month toprepare a report for the Earth ResourcesProgram Office at Headquarters on thePractical Uses of Landsat for Mineral andEnergy Resources that was then submittedas is to the U.S. Congress’ Committeeresponsible for NASA Appropriations.

But in the Spring of ’76 I received anopen and disturbing warning from Lou

Walter: he had evaluated what our Geologygroup was doing and had decided it wasn’tgoing anywhere or competing against themuch larger JPL group (who had unlimitedtravel and much more funding). In the Springof 1976, he told me in no uncertain termsthat I had better come up with somethingdramatic and scientifically sound and usefulOR he would disband us. This had twoeffects: First, Herb Tiedemann and MelPodwysocki decided to look for jobselsewhere. (Herb went to Phillips Petroleumin Ponca City, OK and Mel quickly found abetter position with the USGS in Reston,VA). Second, I came up with a very solidfield experiment: the Utah project - whichactually happened.

I arrived at this idea as follows: Whatwas not being properly addressed in currentLandsat investigations? The answer: Theability to recognize different sedimentaryrock types and units and thus to do at leastreconnaissance level mapping from theimagery alone. At the outset, I consideredselecting Wyoming as the study region,where I knew the geology well, but droppedthat because 1) the Wyoming project hadalready demonstrated that under the rightcircumstances rock units could bedifferentiated, and 2) I wanted to go toanother state whose geology I didn’t knowwell. Based on my travels, I easily narrowedpossibilities down to just Utah. I got a holdof the Utah geological map and found about10 promising site targets, based on thealready mapped stratigraphy. I decided toadd several mineral deposit localities,following a suggestion from MelPodwysocki. I examined several Landsatimages including the one covering our chosenprime area (below; look for black line) andfound some of my sites to be in mountainranges that had heavy forest cover. Too

much vegetation would kill any attempt tomap exposed units. A preliminary fieldsurvey was needed (this is always true whena study like this is proposed) to determinewhether rock exposure was sufficient. Then,suitable sites could be specified as flightlines for an overflight by a NASA aircraftwith a multispectral scanner.

Landsat image of part of south-centralUtah

So, I submitted a travel request tocheck out the potential sites in Utah beforethe NASA flight (which cost $50000 to do,with another $50000 to process the scannerdata). I could do this scouting trip for lessthan $1000. Lou Walter turned it down flat.He said it wasn’t justified and besides Icould rely on the Landsat imagery to findrock exposures with little cover (just notusually true). The real reason was that theywere overdrawn on travel money for thatquarter because the big chiefs had consumedit all. I hit the roof and confronted Lou withall guns blazing. My main thesis: how can heexpect our group to succeed in the JPLmanner if we couldn’t even preview our field

experiment sites. His answer: that’s myproblem - solve it.

And I did! I had previously receiveda standing invitation to speak at theUniversity of Utah if I were ever in SaltLake City. This came from Dr. LarryLattman, by then the new Dean of the EarthSciences College at U. Utah, and before thatone of my Investigator responsibilities whenhe was at Penn State. I called Larry,explained my problem, asked for help, andreceived an invitation to come to Utah at theUniversity’s expense, both to give that talkand to be assisted by them in the fieldchecking. I took a week’s vacation in May’76 (Lou wouldn’t even let me go as dutytime, because he felt that would be a conflictof interest), and flew off to SLC.

What a superb response awaited me.First, Larry had arranged for one of hisgraduate students, who was a pilot in theUtah Air Rescue Service, to fly a singleengine plane over all my test sites. This wedid in a two day period. I photographedevery site. We would fly until refuelingbecame necessary, then he would set theplane down in a desert runway for gasoline.This in itself was sufficient for me to pindown the right sites. (Tragically, this pilot,whose name I forget, was killed just a fewyears later during a rescue mission). Then, Iwas given a field vehicle and an assistant,allowing me to check more closely certainsites on the ground. Finally, I met withabout 10 faculty to report my observationsand to have them evaluate the worthiness ofthe sites. They helped me to decide to reject3 sites and add 3 others that theyrecommended (one being a geothermal fieldnear Roosevelt, UT; another the Big RockCandy copper deposit). This whole episodewas the very model of how to do this kindof experiment properly.

With specific flight lines nowspecified, the NASA aircraft (NC-130B)with its 24 channel Bendix scanner covered11 chosen sites on a cloud free day in June inUtah. Everything went perfectly, exceptthat afterwards it was discovered thatseveral of the thermal channels hadmalfunctioned. But, we ended with aremarkable data set that compared well withany of the JPL missions. I was to spendyears on the analysis of these sites, leadingto several important papers. The resultswere so good that the GEOSAT Committee(an amalgamation of mining and petroleumcompanies that was set up to determine thevalue of remote sensing in exploration and toadvise NASA on future satellites andmissions; its chief executive then was Dr.Fred Henderson; I sat in on their meetingswhen these were in Washington) designatedfour locations (Waterpocket Fold, WhiteMountain, Lisbon Valley, and Big RockCandy Mountain) as National Test Sites forGeology. Of these, the Waterpocket Fold, asuperbly exposed sequence of sedimentary

rock units inclined in a monocline, proved tobe the one research area where I was able toproduce significant results from my studiesin the 1980s (more on this later).

The Waterpocket Fold, taken during myaerial reconnaissance

Using the maximum likelihoodclassifier, I produced geologic units mapsthat achieved greater than 80% accuracy,such as this one

Supervised classification of the stratigraphic units exposed on and around theWaterpocket Fold

Needless to say, while Lou Walterpraised my initiative, he never congratulatedme or the group for coming up with anexperiment that met his standards forcompeting with JPL.

A tragic, sorrowful event happenedin 1976. Bill Nordberg was diagnosed with arapidly spreading, untreatable form of cancerand on October 6 he died. His friends cameto the funeral parlor in droves, beingespecially kind to his widow, Trixie, whom Ihad gotten to feel at home with. There was alater Memorial Service, attended byhundreds. The eulogies could not convey thesense of loss that all of us (and myselfdeeply) felt as the dynamic leader of bothmajor meteorological satellite programs andERTS/Landsat would no longer be there forus as the Earth Resources program, begun byBill Fisher of the USGS and culminating inNordberg’s vision, was now on firm ground,fully accepted, and pointed towards a greatfuture. I vowed at the Service to honor Billby dedicating Mission to Earth to him.Losing Bill really hurt; I admired him aboveall others in the ERTS program.

I had now been at Goddard for tenyears. It was becoming obvious that geologywas increasingly out of place there - theemphasis in remote sensing was shifting tovegetation studies. We continued to look badrelative to JPL in our limited, patentlyunderfunded geological efforts. Returning toteaching was an option and I had sent outfeelers to see if any school wanted to start aprogram in geological remote sensing. Thisproved premature - it began to infiltrateprograms in the 1980s as people such as Ipublished papers proving its value. If I wereto entertain a job change, it could be in theraw materials industry, which was nowusing remote sensing almost routinely, but I

placed the added requirement that it shouldbe in the western U.S.

Almost by accident an opportunitywas presented to me. In March of 1977 Ireceived a phone call from a Dr. PeterAlexander, who was at that moment visitingthe Dept. of Energy in Washingtonconcerning the NURE (National UraniumResources Estimation) program. Officialsthere were suggesting to him, as head of theDOE’s Field Program based in GrandJunction, CO, that remote sensing should beintegrated in the exploration methods beingimproved as new means of finding additionaldeposits of uranium. My name was given tohim by the Bendix Company in Michigan,who knew about my Utah work.

Peter called me at Goddard, explainedthe nature of the job, and asked if I might beinterested. Ellie (reluctantly) told me to goahead and check it out. This led to a trip inApril by her and me to visit the DOEoperations there. It turned out that I wouldbe hired by their prime contractor, BendixField Engineering, and my duties would be tocoordinate all ongoing and future studies inwhich remote sensing could become anintegral, perhaps key, component. Thesalary offered was more than I made withthe government. I really took a fancy toGrand Junction (its setting among red andyellow sedimentary rocks at the edge of theColorado Plateau was beautiful to me. Wewere wined and dined (including a trip to thepine-forested Black Mesa). The job wasoffered on the spot, with a reporting date ofJuly.

Independent of this, Stan Freden, oneof the co-authors of Mission to Earth (whoby now had become a friend) hadapproached me to see if I were interested injoining the ERRSAC program which he

headed, with Phil Cressy as the GroupLeader. I politely declined but this offer wasto become critical shortly as my “escapevalve”.

Then, two bombshells exploded:First, I learned in April that Peter Alexanderhad quit the Grand Junction program andhad accepted a position in the Washingtonarea, starting June 1. This should have been awarning sign that something was amiss withthe NURE program. Then, late in the monthI got a frantic call from G.J. saying thatNURE was closing out two contracts andthat I would be absolutely needed there atonce to check out that they had met theterms of the contracts. That was anotherindication of trouble, but I never connectedthis to any danger since contracts were oftennot renewed. But I would have to report atonce to evaluate the contracts. I would thenbe allowed to return to Bowie (remaining onsalary), of course after I had quit NASA, toclose on the house and move the familywest.

I had little choice but to barrel-assout to G.J. I submitted my resignation(through Stan Freden who was now in myjob loop) and my colleagues threw a suddengoing away luncheon (among the gifts was asmall elephant statue made of sea shells).Because I needed a car (and we had two), Idecided to drive the blue Ford to G.J. andthen leave it there. My hurried departurewas on a Friday morning - I allowed fourdays to reach Colorado. The trip out wasstrenuous and I slept rather poorly but Ireached G.J. on the Memorial Day Monday.

There, my problems really started,got worse, and finally destroyed this wholeventure. I was checked in to the Holiday Inn.As I tried to fall asleep, exhausted afterdriving, some wild noises swept through theInn, keeping me awake for several hours.

There had been a regional playoff ofAmerican Legion baseball teams in G.J., thechampion had been crowned, and everyonecelebrated with vigor.

I reported on Tues. AM to theBendix facility. Bleary-eyed, I filled out theemployment forms, met my immediate newboss, Dave Emilia, and by afternoon was ona plane to Casper, WY via Denver. There, amotel had been reserved. After dinner, Iretired early but to my horror heard trainengine noises just outside - the motel wasnext to the railroad and a switcher wasconstantly moving cars around. Terriblenight, with sleep deprivation besetting mymisery.

The next two weeks turned out to bea living hell. But too involved for me to treatthe details in this tome. I’ll just summarizein this brief synopsis. On the day after myarrival I was sent to Casper, WY to meetwith Ron Marrs of the University ofWyoming. Got up very early and spent 15hours in the field the first day, then 10 thenext. Then a horrible weekend sleepwisevisiting my brother, Fr. Anthony Short,pastor of an Indian Mission. Payday for theIndians led to drunken binges. Upon returnto Grand Junction, immediately afterchecking into the office, I was told to drivemy car west to meet the JPL crew, headedby Alex Goetz (not there at this time) andMike Abrams and Jim Conel. They weretaking field spectra with their new portablespectrometer; it had been out of commissionbut was now repaired, so I must hurry to seeit in action. Once in the field, itmalfunctioned from the start. Trip aborted.Then back to G.J. that night where I wastold we were leaving at 6 AM, again forCasper, and an emergency meeting with thethird contractor.

The meeting was attended by severalBendix people, whom I accompanied as anobserver, and the mining companypersonnel. The following day was spententirely on site in rough country near LostCabin (a nearly deserted mining town)looking at the relevant geology. That eveningI was now near collapse from so little sleepbut did not tell anyone from Bendix. Istarted a serious introspection aboutwhether this job change was a positive step.In fact, the next morning I phoned StanFreden, told him of my plight, and learnedthat he had not gotten around to submittingmy resignation for processing. Thus, theERRSAC job was still open.

I was on the fence until the Denverairport. One of the Bendix staff was a portlyyoungish man who was a chemist. Our planeto G.J. was off schedule, so we had drinks inthe lounge. He quickly became inebriated(drunk, folks) and opened up on what wasgoing on at the Bendix facility. His startlingrevelation: management had decided to backoff from adding remote sensing to NURE -my inspections of contract work wereterminal. A general scale back in the programwas why Peter Alexander jumped ship(without being honest up front with me). Sowhat do they have in mind for me: Well, Iwould be assigned to a field geophysicalteam and would be responsible for electriclog interpretation. This was so far afieldfrom what my experience and interests werethat by the time I got to my motel in G.J., Icalled Stan Freden at his home, and said Iwould return immediately - they wouldcount the two weeks I’d been gone asvacation.

The most ironic outcome of theGrand Junction diversion: We had sold ourhome so when I returned we had to find anew place. We moved to splendid home in

Ellicott City, MD. I learned a few monthslater that the President of Bendix FieldEngineering - my erstwhile employer forthose difficult two weeks - lived just aroundthe corner on the next street.

Now, on to ERRSAC, which is theacronym for the Eastern Regional RemoteSensing Applications Center. This was oneof four centers established by the NASAHeadquarters Technology Transfer program,others being in the South, the Midwest, andthe West. The idea, strongly supported inthe U.S. Congress, was to train and assistState and Local Government Agenciesthroughout the country in using remotesensing technology, based largely on Landsatdata, to address environmental, land use, andagricultural concerns amenable to the newinformation sources stemming from air andspace image coverage. Issues was a keybyword that was used by the ERRSAC staffin their dealings with these agencies. For me,joining such an operation was a drasticchange in my interests and work activities.Frankly, I wasn’t at heart enthusiastic aboutthis new career shift, since it was onlyperipherally involved in science - to which Ihad a life long commitment. But, I had noother options. To contribute to ERRSAC Ireally had to learn aspects of remote sensingother than the geological applications I hadpursued since joining NASA. Above all, Ihad to master computer image processing,especially the IDIMS and ORSER systemsthat ERRSAC had adopted from outsidesources. I had to learn to talk with peoplewho were politically minded or who weretechnicians in various fields.

ERRSAC was headed by Dr. PhilCressy, a geochemist who had been in thePlanetology Branch when I was an NASfellow there. For him, this work was acomplete departure from his career goals, but

he made the transition very effectively, anddiscovered he had gifts as a leader, a planner,and a skilled politician. Others in ERRSACduring my tenure included Jimmy Weber(the master politician), Arlene Kerber (withwhom he has lived, without marriage, fordecades now), Bill Alford, Bill Campbell, S.Ramapriyan, Betsy Middleton, MarcImhoff, Scott Cox, Mike Goldberg, JanetGervin, Herb Blodgett (another geologyretread), Diane Kugleman (Cressy’sAdministrative Assistant), and Pam Bolling,the Center secretary.

At the outset, it was not clear to Philjust what I would do for ERRSAC. I wasn’tmentally tuned to the dealings with theAgency people. However, after a fewmonths of “getting my feet wet” as one ofthe technical people (applying any Geologywas not useful, since very few of the 15states we were responsible for were interrain where rocks could even be seen,because of the vegetation-covered East), Phildecided that my educational interests wouldmake me the right person to establish theformal Education program that became anintegral part of ERRSAC’s mission. Thus,from 1978 through most of 1979, myresponsibility was to run one or two weektraining programs for groups from one toseveral states. This meant that I needed to beespecially familiar with computerapplications. I mastered this by doing bothgeological and non-geological studies. FredGunther was an ex-geologist who hadconverted to a programmer working for ourcontractor. He was my interface withcomputer studies. But, gradually I started tomaster the actual manipulation of IDIMS. Idid this by asking him or others to show mehow to do the processing through thekeyboard routines. In other words, I becamesomething of a programmer myself, relying

on my own inputting rather than ontechnical support.

I began to coordinate the trainingsessions in 1978. I was rather formal in theway I did things: lining up ERRSAC staff aspresenters, developing exercises forcomputer processing, working withindividuals from the states on their particularproblems. But, I was probably too pedanticand stiff doing these tasks. In late ’78,Cressy hired Bill Campbell, who had justreceived his master’s from the Rose-HulmanInstitute of Technology in Terra Haute, INwith specialization in remote sensing. Billhad become interested in this subject whenhe was a senior at Southern IllinoisUniversity and had been inspired by readingMission to Earth to get into the Landsatbusiness. Cressy decided to have Bill workwith me. His presentations were much morefolksy and casual and he seemed to getthrough to the state attendees better than I.So, in 1979 Bill took over the Training dutiesand I was renamed Program Scientist forERRSAC.

It was during this transition that Billsucceeded in getting Jack Dangermond, oneof the founders of the new field calledGeographic Information Systems (GIS) andthe President of ESRI (EnvironmentalSystems Research Institute) in California, tospeak to us at ERRSAC in early 1980.Dangermond had developed his conceptsthrough his association with Ian McHarg,the writer of Design with Nature, a classicthat laid the groundwork for the GISapproach. I was much inspired byDangermond’s dynamic overview and havebeen a “fan” of GIS ever since, despitehaving never actually mastered the techniqueor used it practically.

I made several good friends amongone of our two-months summer training

programs that we held exclusively for collegeprofessors. Hugh Bloemer, a geographerfrom Ohio University, has remained incontact with me up to the present. AlThompson, of the Geology Dept. at theUniversity of Delaware, was another. JimCampbell of the University of Virginiadeveloped into a specialist in imageprocessing (he wrote a textbook on thesubject) because of his stay with ERRSAC.My leadership in these programs provedinvaluable to them, and I learned also, byteaching.

One of ERRSAC’s summer institutes forteachers

In 1979 one of my duties was toorganize, as Chairman, the first ERRSACConference, to be attended by more than 150people from various walks of government. Ichose the Tidewater Inn in Easton, MD onthe Eastern Shore, a hotel whose history andcomfort was ideal for such a Conference (3-days). About 60 papers were in the program(I edited the Proceedings that followed). Weended this October meeting with a boatcruise and catered dinner around that part ofChesapeake Bay, stopping at St. Michels. Insum, the affair was a huge success and reallycaught NASA Headquarters attention. Here Iam as Master of Ceremonies:

Introducing the program at the FirstERRSAC Conference

Then, in 1980 I was given funding byHeadquarters to put together the firstnational CORSE (Conference on RemoteSensing Education). This would bringtogether more than 200 specialists andeducators from across the country. I decidedto have CORSE at Purdue University, withDavid Landgrebe and Shirley Davis, ofLARS (Laboratory for Agricultural RemoteSensing) as co-organizers. Again, this wentoff well and I served as editor for theProceedings. A second CORSE, for which Ihad no responsibility, was held in 1985.

In 1981, Cressy felt the time hadcome to have a second ERRSAC Conference.Again, I was Program Chairman. But thistime Cressy decided to have a contractorhandle the arrangements, site selection, etc.However, a conflict of interest was discover,so, finding a site was “dumped” back ontome. I located an excellent one in the RadissonHotel in Danvers, Massachusetts. I set upthe program and scheduled it for June.Cressy pulled some strings and got us use ofthe 16 passenger NASA aircraft normallyavailable only to bigwigs (I flew on it afterthe Second ERTS Conference in Houston).Our departure was to be from BWI at 2 PM

on Sunday. But at the last moment, a bigwigfrom Headquarters bumped us off the plane.We had to drive up in NASA station wagonsinstead. I managed the meeting well - theHotel had superb facilities - and chalked upanother success.

In 1980 I set out on one of the mostambitious and challenging writing tasks I wasever to take - one which in fact did more forestablishing my reputation than perhaps anyother endeavor. My idea came from realizingthat the agency trainees would get muchmore out of their ERRSAC experience ifthey had been exposed to many of the basicsof remote sensing before they came toGSFC. This could be accomplished bydeveloping a training manual that hadexamples of the types of data they wouldencounter plus some pedagogical aids suchas questions and exercises. With suchknowledge already mastered they could startright in with the principal reason they’dbeen assigned or had elected to spend time atERRSAC - the computer-based imagemanipulation and ways to interpret theirresults.

So, I presented this concept to PhilCressy who talked it over with JimmyWeber and Bill Alford, and then with theHeadquarters people running the RegionalApplications Program. Almost at once, theyall showed strong enthusiasm for myproject, and funding was found to implementit. My efforts would spread out for nearly18 months, during which I ended up reallycoming to understand much more of thistechnology since I had to be its master if Iwanted to construct a comprehensive andtechnically sound training vehicle. In otherwords, I had to teach myself first in order toorganize the essentials of the relevantaspects of remote sensing into a surrogate

for the instructions that we would otherwisegive on site at Goddard.

I decided to select a small part of theeastern U.S. for intensive study usingvarious types of sensors and systems. Thiswould normally be the way in which a statewould go about using remote sensingproducts - working in an area of limited size(state or smaller). Thus, I chose as the basicscene Landsat images that includedHarrisburg, PA near the center.

This would touch upon agricultureand forestry, land use, environmentalconcerns, and even geology (the foldedAppalachians) and mineral resources (coal).To include more diversity, some studysubjects required looking at images adjacentto the Harrisburg scene - from Washington,D.C. eastward to New York City. And toprovide the user experience with other partsof the world, and the varieties of land useand environment in those regions, I had anAppendix that included 12 Landsat scenesfrom the U.S. and elsewhere. To give theuser a strong feel for the role of computerprocessing, I included both a chapter thatshowed various ways in which the

Harrisburg scene could be processed andanother Appendix which delved into imageprocessing principles to considerable depth.To assure that the user was engaged inlearning and not just reading the text andlooking at pictures, I included manyquestions right in the body flow of the textwhich forced the user to think about whatwas just read or to extract information fromthe imagery tied to the text. But, contrary tomost teaching texts, I had answers to allquestions, located in the back of the book(which was page-large and had a papercover).

To assure that this teaching approachwould work, I tried out sections or chaptersof the Landsat Tutorial Workbook (LTW),as I named it, on both fellow ERRSAC staffand, when possible, on outside training“students”. As 1981 closed, the bookreached final form and again was prepared incamera-ready format by Anne. The book,NASA RP 1078, came out from theGovernment Printing Office in early 1982. Isent copies to everyone who had earlier gonethrough ERRSAC training, to severalUniversities where I knew remote sensingeducation was in full swing, and to manyprofessionals. The book’s reception wasalmost universally favorable, to the extentthat it became the prime text at a number ofinstitutions and was referenced in nearly allother textbooks printed after ’82. And, aswe will see later, the LTW formed the basisfor creating a much larger, morecomprehensive Tutorial covering almosteverything in the field.

The Landsat Tutorial Workbook - atraining manual

My ERRSAC years were marked bylittle research and few publications - I was inthe “doing” rather than “thinking” mode. In1977, I did co-author a paper with BobSummers (ERDA) and Bill Smith (ERIM) onthe role of remote sensing in Energyexploration, giving at the 11th InternationalSymposium on Remote Sensing ofEnvironment. Then, I received a requestfrom NASA Headquarters to “ghost write”parts of a paper on “Energy and Aerospace”that R.C. Seamans, Jr (the Administrator ofthe U.S. Energy Research and DevelopmentAdministration [ERDA]) had been asked toprepare for the Royal Aeronautical Society.In 1982, I gave a paper, with Bill Campbellas co-author, at the 3rd Conference onEconomic Benefits of Remote Sensing onThe Role and Cost Effectiveness of SatelliteRemote Sensing Technology. Much of theideas in that paper had been developedearlier when Lou Walter, following a requestfrom NASA Headquarters, had me do a costbenefits study of remote sensing in general -putting me into an area of thought for whichI had little background other than my one

college Economics course, but by applyingcommon sense and finding scatteredinformation in the literature, I came up witha very reasonable and believable overview.)

I only traveled infrequently in thisERRSAC job - trips to State Agencies weremade pretty much by Cressy and hiscohorts to set up working arrangements tocooperate with them on specific projectsand/or to send trainees to Goddard.

But there was this importantexception: In October 1981, I was funded toattend the First Snowbird Conference(Snowbird is a ski resort in the WasatchMtns south of Salt Lake City) on the role ofimpact craters in modifying the Earth’sEnvironment. This was prompted in largepart by the claim of Luis Alvarez and hisson, Walter, that a huge impact wasresponsible for wiping out the dinosaurs andmuch of other life forms 65 million years agoat the end of the Mesozoic Era (known nowat the K-T boundary [age discontinuity]: Kstands for the Cretaceous Period; T for thebeginning of the younger Tertiary Period).Of the many meetings I’ve attended in mylifetime, none was more exciting and intensethan this one. After each paper, 6 to 8people would line up at the microphone tomake comments, ask questions, or justdispute. Schedules quickly broke down, soby consent we continued the program intoeach night. The topics thus reviewed formedthe basis for almost all conversation -breakfast, lunch, dinner, walks around thefacility, all were almost exclusively devotedto give and take on the still revolutionaryidea that an impact could have pro-foundeffect on the Earth’s history and life. I‘d saythat this meeting was the turning pointamong scientists of various persuasions thathas led to broad acceptance of the thesis thatimpact is one of the most fundamental pro-

cesses in the formation and development ofplanetary bodies. Impact became fashionableand its proponents were treated as prophetsrather than quacks. Although I had beenlargely out of the field for 12 years, myearlier accomplishments were recognized andI was treated as an expert at the Con-ference.On several subsequent occasions, WalterAlvarez sent me samples of materialcollected at the K-T boundary to examine forshock effects.

In the summer of 1981, ERRSAC gotword that it would be disbanded after thenew Fiscal Year. NASA Headquarters haddecided, partly from program cutbacks andreduced funding, to cease this phase of itsTechnology Transfer program. All RAC’swere thus closed out. A few ERRSACpeople left Goddard but most were justreassigned. In early 1982, Herb Blodgett andI were brought into Code 622 (later 923), theGeophysics Branch. Charles Schnetzler wasthe Branch Chief at the time, and keypersonnel included Paul Lowman, PatTaylor, Herm Thomas, and Bob Langel (hewas NASA’s expert on geomagnetics -MAGSAT was its prime data gatherer andmuch of the Branch’s work centered onreducing the data to obtain a worldwide mapof magnetic anomalies).

I decided at first to concentrate againon lineaments. I dreamed up a project withPaul and Herb to map the major lineamentsdetected in the Canadian Shield, groupingthese by Age Province, and producinghistograms of dominant orientations to see ifthese varied from any one province relativeto the others. This was tedious work thatoccupied me off and on for more than twoyears. In June of ’82, Paul and I managed toconvince Schnetzler of the need for a fieldtrip, mainly in the Sudbury area. There wefield checked some of the lineaments

recognized in Landsat images, verifying thatmost we had singled out were valid tectonicfracture systems. We concluded that thefractures were emphasized (in the imagery)by glacial erosion and that many were thenoccupied by lakes (one fracture near theGrenville Front had islands within a longlake that were composed entirely of tectonicquartzite breccias). After this project wasfinished, we had affirmed that fractures inone province had different orientationpatterns (as discerned from rose diagrams)from those contiguous. This was the firstever study of a Precambrian Shield terrain interms of its regional distributions offractures. We prepared a summary paper butnot until 1990 was it published in a GSAmagazine. The Landsat image below showsthe type of terrain we worked with. Thefracture orientation plots for the entireShield are a first of its kind at that scale.

Landsat IR band image of fractures inthe Superior (upper) and Grenville(lower) Provinces

Rose diagrams (azimuth orientations) ofmajor fractures in the Canadian Shield

In July of 1982 I was invited to be akey speaker at an Education Conference atVandenberg Air Force Base, organized byJim Taranik who was at this time theGeology Program Chief at HeadquartersThis was tied to the launch of Landsat 4from a pad near the ocean. The weather wasfoggy at the time, with a ceiling of less than500 feet. At the countdown I was quite calmbut when the rocket disappeared into the fogbank, I was surprised to find tears rollingdown my cheeks. By now, I realized, I wasemotionally bonded with the Landsats.

The launch of Landsat 4

Lineaments analysis was a volubletopic to study but it didn’t really occupymy full day. I needed to pursue research inother areas of geologic remote sensing. Onequestion that concerned me about the valueand validity of using such data for rock typeidentification and stratigraphic distinctionswas the accuracy of the results. If a sequenceof different rock types were mappable fromLandsat or other space data sources ataccuracies of less than about 70%, then mostgeologists would not warm to its usefulness.So, I began a detailed study of accuracy formap units (from published maps as the“ground truth”) in the Utah test sites (seepage 38) and in areas within California.Under ideal circumstances, units accuracy(correspondence between computer-basedclassifications of space data and the sameunits on a geologic map) could reach 90% orbetter. Under other conditions this coulddrop to less than 60%. My findings werepublished in two papers, one given at theERIM Conference on Remote Sensing inGeology in 1983 in Colorado Springs and theother in the same conference in 1984 in SanFrancisco. The bottom line: Landsat typedata were useful for reconnaissance mappingand could achieve high accuracies if rockswere not covered with vegetation or thicksoils, i.e., were well exposed and in suitablestructural arrangements (typically, folded

units). With the advent of hyperspectralremote sensing in the 1990s, this accuracyhas been greatly improved, provided therocks meet the above suitability conditions.

I had not been in the Geophysicsvery long before I received a request orcommission from NASA Headquarters tosalvage a major NASA Mission. As part of aprogram (Applications Explorer Missionseries) to cut costs, NASA launched the lowbudget HCMM (Heat Capacity MappingMission) Satellite on April 26, 1978. Itssingle purpose was to demonstrate howthermal data could improve our ability torecognize materials and features of intereston the Earth’s surface. The parameter it wasdesigned to measure is Thermal Inertia, aproperty that determines how long it takesfor a given material to cool under ambientconditions. The program was budgeted at$60 million dollars, with $3.5 million goingto 35 Investigators. The worked perfectlyand data flowed to the investigations.Thesegroups had done excellently over the nexttwo years in demonstrating the capabilitiesof this type of satellite (which had to repeatorbit such that it crosses the same groundarea twice in a day-nite cycle). Their reportswere turned in, and the usual procedure wasto hold a conference or get-together topresent results and exchange ideas. But, theprogram had run out of money, so the meansto hold a conference was now unavailable.

This was unprecedented in NASAhistory - a mission without a follow-upconference. What to do? Someone atHeadquarters familiar with my efforts withMission to Earth and the Landsat TutorialWorkbook arrived at the idea of my puttingthermal investigation results and a broadoverview of thermal remote sensing into abook. I was thusly chosen - never asked, justtold to do it. No matter that I had no

background in thermal remote sensing. Iproved I could write readable technicalsummaries - so let me learn basics and thenbe clever.

The proper procedure would be toinvolve the Program Scientist for HCMM.This was Dr. Robert Murphy, a physicist,who quickly convinced me that he was nolonger committed to this satellite or itsresults. He was uncooperative and wouldn’teven read and review the critical chapter onthermal principles. So, I resolved to go italone. But I did enlist the involvement ofLocke Stuart who was the investigationscoordinator. He became co-author, in spiteof having only written the 11 page Appendixon System Parameters and Performance

Within 6 months I had finished this264 page book. It came out in late 1982, asNASA SP-465, in a folio sized version thatpermitted HCMM images (example below)to be printed in the size they were normallysent to the users.

HCMM Night IR Image of BritishColumbia showing the different types of

geomorphic terrains in the mountains

The oversized HCMM book

My knowledge base in thermalremote sensing had greatly expanded. Perhaps the best compliment given me wasby Anne Kahle of JPL, the NASA expert onthermal subjects: “I was pleasantlysurprised. Nick did a better job than I hadguessed. He has mastered the subject”.

I was able to introduce HCMM’saccomplishments in a poster session paperon Thermal Inertial Mapping at the SecondInternational Symposium on Remote Sensingof Environment, in Fort Worth, TX in early1982; a synopsis of this was included in theSymposium Proceedings that came out latein the year. I also had a poster sessionemphasizing the geologic findings withHCMM imagery at the 1983 GSA Meetingin Las Vegas.

In 1984 I diverted my attention toanother aspect of Landsat imagery that I hadalways felt was a primary payoff in itscontribution to Geology and Geography: itsability to display in a regional context thevarious larger scale geomorphic features ofthe Earth (as had already been demonstrated

and accepted as the principal means bywhich other planetary bodies were beingdescribed and analyzed from imageryacquired by space probes). This approachhad been largely neglected by the geologicaluser community which tended to focus ongeological problems that had economicsignificance (as in finding oil or minerals).Here was a uniquely scientific utilizationthat warranted a proper place in the study ofEarth from space.

This interest was rekindled when asummer intern was assigned to me in 1983.He was Prof. Robert S. Hayden of theGeography Program at George MasonUniversity in Virginia. Bob had a remarkablebackground. A large, rather heavy, jollyindividual, he was an ordained Episcopalpriest who had done parish work for almost20 years, then left the active church to gointo teaching. Landform studies had becomea specialty with him. We decided to devoteour summer to collecting Landsat images thatstrikingly illustrated a variety of geomorphicattributes. By summer’s end, this collectionhad become impressive. Because he camefrom nearby, we stayed in touch and hewould frequently visit. He applied for asecond summer, returning in 1984. By thistime I had conceived of a new researchprogram designed to call attention to thebenefits of space imagery for landformscharacterization and analysis. I found asympathetic supporter in Dr. Mark Settle,the Geology Programs co-ordinator atNASA Headquarters who had similarfeelings about this disregarded field that soobviously was a beneficiary of spaceimagery. Together, we inaugurated a masterplan to raise the status of RegionalGeomorphology among the geologicalcommunity by showing how space imageryfostered a whole new look at the Earth’s

landforms hitherto not being addressed sinceonly aerial photos and maps had been thecustomary data sources. The strategy, whichhe backed up with funds, would be 1)organize a conference or workshop on thesubject we began to refer to as Global Mega-Geomorphology, and 2) produce and publisha picture book type of Atlas showing thedifferent kinds of landforms that are welldisplayed at space image scales. Bob and Istarted right in to meet both objectives.

Item 1 culminated in a four dayWorkshop on Global Mega-Geomorphologyat the Sunspace Ranch conference facility atOracle, Arizona, about 30 miles north ofTucson. This took place on January 14-17,1985 in ideal winter weather. The hostcoordinator was Dr. Victor Baker of theGeology Dept., U. of Arizona. Theattendees (for all of whom we paidexpenses) were a Who’s-Who ofGeomorphology. In total, there were 31participants. As our keynote speaker, Ichose a friend, Dr. Kathryn Sullivan, thefirst woman astronaut to walk in space, anda topflight geologist who photographedlandforms during her two space missions.

The format involved presentations of24 papers, each a half hour long in the 3mornings at Oracle. In the afternoon theparticipants split into four Working Groupsdiscussing these subjects: 1) GlobalGeomorphology; 2) Landscape Inheritance;3) Process Thresholds; 4) PlanetaryPerspectives. A Panel Group at the enddiscussed a variety of topics. The fourth daywas a field trip around the Santa Catalinaand Santa Rita Mountains, led by Vic Baker.All presentations and the Working and PanelGroup summaries were collected into NASAConference Publication 2312, edited by BobHayden, and distributed widely to U.S. andInternational University

Geology/Geography Departments.Consensus as the meeting ended was thatthis Workshop was hugely successful andlaid the groundwork for incorporating spacedata in studying landforms at the regionallevel. But, sadly, I have never since beenshown evidence that this has happened. TheConference was summarized in aProceedings volume, NASA CP-2312:

However, I also came away with amandate, and dollar support, to put togethera book length NASA Publication, to beentitled Geomorphology from Space: AGlobal Overview of Regional Landforms.This would take two years to complete, butonce out would be highly praised for what itturned out to be: a pictorial atlas glamorizinglandforms as conspicuous features that madeEarth’s surface as interesting as those of theother planets, and, because of thecomprehensive captions written for theimage plates, a synopsis of the Earth’sglobal geology unlike any of the few suchbooks previously written.

I was joined in this effort by Dr.Robert Blair, Jr., Chairman of the Dept. ofGeology at Fort Lewis College, Durango,CO. Like Bob Hayden, who continued to

participate in our endeavor, Rob Blair spenttwo summers with me as a NASA SummerFellow. We decided that the best way toproceed would be to designate chapterthemes, such as Tectonic Landforms,Aeolian Landforms, etc., and then enlist theprofessional geomorphologists who had beenat the Workshop to write individual chaptersbased on images we would supply. Wefurther decided to have each image fromspace supported by 3 or 4 ancillary imagestaken on the ground or from the air.

This last requirement proved to bethe hard part in putting the book together.Most images were outside North Americaand supporting photos could be difficult toobtain. But a partial solution soon presenteditself, and I got travel funds to takeadvantage of this.

Two of the Workshop attendees,Cliff Embleton and Ian Douglas, were amongthe co-organizers of the First InternationalConference on Geomorphology, held inSept. 1985 at the University of Manchester,England. More than 500 experts would bethere. I was specifically invited and asked toreview the results of the Workshop. I alsoasked for special time on stage in theOpening Ceremony to plead with theattendees for contributions toGeomorphology from Space.

That evening was the formal OpeningCeremony. I was told that I would be onstage with the notables. When I unpackedmy clothes, and took out my dresssportscoat, its front buttons were missing(the cleaners forgot to re-attach them). Elliewas appalled by my dishevelment. And shereally hit orbit when I was seated next to thefamous Duke of Devonshire, whom I metand talked with. During the program, I waspermitted to address the full gathering aboutthe Geormorphology from Space project.

Vic Baker and Rob Blair were dumbfoundedto see me at the podium. But my appeal gotresults, as more than a dozen attendees sentme ground photos later.

Podium speakers (NMS on left; the Dukesecond from right)

By late 1986, work was nearly donein getting Geomorphology from Space readyfor the printer. The effort was behindschedule, largely because Art Bloom ofCornell and Oscar Huh of Louisiana StateUniversity had been remiss in meetingdeadlines for their contributions. But, onceagain with Anne Schmidt’s help (she reallyenjoyed working with me because thesubject matter was so interesting), we hadcamera ready copy in the hands of theGovernment Printing Office by January ’86.Even more than Mission to Earth, goodreproduction of photos and images wascritical. The job GPO did was OK, I guess,but not outstanding. Still, the book was abeauty - the best thing I had ever“honchoed”. Reviews were all positive toglowing. The book eventually sold out itsprinting. When I inquired a few years laterabout a second printing, I was told that GPOhad destroyed the plates.

Geomorphology from Space: NASA SP-486

But over the years demand for thebook continued to besiege NASA. A verysurprising solution was applied. Withoutany prompting on my part, the JetPropulsion Laboratory decided to fund aconversion of the book into a CD-ROM.This was a first for them: never before hadthey gone outside of JPL to sponsor a CD.Efforts began in 1995 to develop the CD,with the bulk of the work being done byCarla Evans and Blanche Meeson of theGoddard DAAC facility (JPL’s role wasmainly funding). To improve quality, theyscanned many of the original photos/images Ihad in my possession at home. The resultingCD is a remarkable reworking of the book.I’m told several thousand CDs have beensold since its first release in 1996. The bookand its CD companion have become aclassic! For example, this Landsat image ofwestern South Africa shows in a regionalpanorama the famous pediplanes cited byLester King in his theory of landforms

development through successive uplift-erosion cycles.

Landsat image of four erosion surfaces inSouth Africa

Two changes at NASA happened in1986; both would affect me over the nextthree years. First, the Geophysics Branchgot a new Chief - Dr. James Hertzler, aworld class scientist known for his work ongeomagnetics applied to sea-floor spreading.Jim would be a much needed driving forcethat reactivated some flagging programs.However, his interest in remote sensingseemed rather lukewarm, so people like PaulLowman, Herb Blodgett, and I didn’t benefitmuch from his attention. Second, there wasstill another turnover at Headquarters, with anew Geology Program coordinator, Dr. PeterMoguinnes-Mark, who specialized involcanology and did appreciate remotesensing. But he proved to be quite partial tothe JPL program, giving it abundant support,while short shrifting us at Goddard. Hestayed only two years before relocating atthe University of Hawaii, being replaced bya lady geologist whose name escapes me.

But, before Mark Settle left, heencouraged me to follow up on the interestwe’d bestowed on Geomorphology. He felt

that our profession still had to demonstratethat useful information was extractable fromimagery that would lead to new insightsabout landforms. He suggested I devise a testexperiment which would show the way. Ithought for a while, decided that TectonicGeomorphology offered the best promiseand was also in one of my fields of expertise.By simple pondering, I came up with asmashing idea: Various mountain belts of theworld were even then being shown to consistof separate blocks or terranes - island arcs ordetached continental pieces that would becarried by sea-floor spreading up againstcontinents at subduction zones, but wouldnot be carried under, instead being forced byobduction to weld onto the upper crust.Since each terrane had its own distinctivelithologies and point of origin, it seemedlogical that grouped terranes the geomorphicexpression of each (controlled by itsstructure and rock type) might well differfrom its neighbors. From this hypothesis, Iarrived at the concept of Terranes asTerrains. I started to read avariciouslythrough the literature to see if anything hadbeen reported along this line. Negative.Then, I identified two terrane clusters inNorth America accessible for onsite study:1) the Appalachians, and 2) the KlamathMountains of southwestern Oregon. I chosethe latter because it was the “type locality”of the inception of the terrane concept andbecause it was confined to a much smallerarea compared with the AppalachianPiedmont. I began to assemble Landsatimagery of that part of Oregon and adjacentnorthern California. I had already decidedthat there was strong evidence in thisimagery that the landforms in variousterranes had distinct signatures (elevations,ridge orientations and spacing, etc.) thatwere strongly different visually, so that a

combination of field study andmeasurements of parameters in the imageryand topographic maps seemed likely to giveme positive (and publishable) results.

The project looked promising but tounderstand what was happening and makemy results scientifically valid, I needed tovisit the region and study it in detail. Thatwas too much for a typical 1-2 weeks travelrequest. Charlie Schnetzler suggested that Iapply for a sabbatical - as a senior scientist,I would likely qualify for one. I did, askingfor 3 months (which meant that on return Iwas obligated to stay with NASA for 4 x 3or 12 months). My choice as base ofoperations was between U. of Oregon andOregon State. At the latter, I knew both theChairman of the Geology Department, BobYeats, and Chuck Rosenfeld, the staffremote sensing specialist (officially, theState Remote Senser; he had done thesupporting work for the guru known as theBagwham who was eventually evicted fromOregon), who was associated with theGeography Department. We chose OSU inCorvallis; this proved just the right choicebecause Corvallis turned out to be a greattown and we found a superb low-cost“rental”, essentially house-sitting for auniversity family on a summer sabbatical.

For the first six weeks I put in a 5full-day week in a small office in theGeography Department’s floor. Much ofmy efforts were devoted to extractingvarious kinds of topographic informationfrom published topographic maps. Thesewere then investigated largely by statisticalstudies. Sometimes I used the facilities ofRosenfeld’s Remote Sensing Laboratorywhich was quite sophisticated, but he had noLandsat computer tapes or otherdata/imagery of the Klamath Mountains thatI could analyze by image processing. Still,

by mid-summer I was picking up somemeaningful information just by numbercrunching the topo data.

Towards the end of the summer, Iwas approached by the GeographyDepartment Chairman, Tom Maresh, aboutthe possibility of joining their staff. Thearrangement would involve my being almostself-supporting through soft money fromNASA and other sources. In time, aprofessorship might be offered. In 1987, Iwould have enough years at NASA to takeearly retirement which would supplementmy remote sensing income. Needless to say,I found this offer tempting but my wife wasconcerned that the sum of dollars would betoo small for us to live comfortably andsecurely. I politely rejected the offer. Inretrospect, as Corvallis has grown into oneof the prime living areas in the West, I nowwish we had gambled, since both of us lovedthis Oregon life, and I always had landed onmy feet in the past.

While in Corvallis I spent most ofmy time using topographic maps of theKlamath mountains to analyze differentparameters. Many measurements suggestedthat there were statistically significantdifferences in mean elevation, density ofridges, orientation of ridges, and otherindicators of geomorphic expression. Whilein Corvallis, the flight over a part of theKlamaths by the French SPOT satellite tookplace but I didn’t receive the image pairs (forstereo analysis) I’d ordered until after Ireturned from Oregon. Probably the highlightof the summer was the week spent in thefield, where I ground-truthed the generalvariations in landforms characteristics; I wasaccompanied by a graduate student fromAfghanastan who had been a freedom fighteragainst the Soviets.

Most of my NASA time that firstyear back from Oregon involved doing moreanalysis of the Klamath terranes. I puttogether a mosaic of Landsat images that

clearly indicated visually that the differentterranes had distinctive geomorphicdifferences:

Two terranes - the Elk and the SixesRiver - proved to be the most definitiveevidence for differences which demonstrated

adjacent land units had such significantvariations in landforms that one could arguethese had been added to the continent at

different times. The top of the next pagecontains part of a single Landsat image inwhich the lower Elk terrane is clearlydifferent in the nature of its terrain comparedwith the upper Sixes River terrain.

The Elk Terrane (bottom) andSixes River Terrane (top)

Most striking is the differences inorientation of the ridges (which also varied interms of average elevations and densities).

This rose diagram showed apronounced northeast trend of the linestracing the crests of ridges. Now comparethis with the diagram for the Elk terranecrests appearing at the top of the next page.That trend is strongly northwest. If the twoterrane units had both been present as partof a single land mass, the orientations shouldbe approximately the same. Instead, theunderlying rock units fabric which controlshow the terrains are developed duringerosion are so different that the two terranesare dissimilar in time.

By November of 1987, I hadaccumulated enough intriguing information togive the Klamath results as a poster sessionat the Annual GSA meeting. But I wasunsatisfied with the breadth and scope ofwhat I had learned, to the extent that I havenever published the study in the literature.In particular, using the Landsat and SPOTimages alone did not provide any startlingnew information about the terranedistribution or the geomorphiccharacteristics of each. To extract meaningfulinformation required using the space imageryin stereo. We were not equipped to analyzestereo topography at Goddard, nor was

there adequate funding to acquire a largenumber of SPOT stereo pairs. To this day,though, I think much more lies inherently inspace imagery as a tool for terrane analysis.

Branch Chief Jim Hertzler was underpressure to get more remote sensing typework underway in the Geophysics Branch.He had always been interested in the EastAfrican Rift Zone. He devised a study thatwould involve Paul Lowman, Herb Blodgett,and me, and obtained funding and alsobrought in an expert who had worked on theRift Zone for a year’s Fellowship in theBranch. My enthusiasm was tempered bythe realization that no matter what I foundthat was new or useful, travel money to visitsites in Africa simply wasn’t there (thisfundamental flaw in doing remote sensingscience without going into the field to checkout the study sites remained my majordissatisfaction with my NASA work; after Ileft NASA in 1988, beginning in the ‘90s,there was a major shift in NASA travelpolicy that allowed government employees

to accept travel funding from private orother government organizations, providedthat it did not come directly from fundssupplied by the NASA individual throughgrants, etc.).

I decided my contribution to the Riftproject would combine my geomorphicinterests with my experiences in analyzinglineaments as guides to tectonic control. Iconducted a survey of lineamentsorientations determ-ined in Landsat andSPOT with studies previously made on theground and with aerial photos. What Idetermined was that in the Rift, the spaceimag-ery produced orientation plots (rosediagrams) of accuracy comparable to theseother sources of information. These resultswere positive enough for me to summarizemy studies on accuracy of mapping fromspace in a poster paper given at theASPRS/ACSM annual meeting in Baltimorein 1989.

Plots of ground mapped Rift Valley fault trends (top) (in Kenya) showing thatalmost almost identical orientations are identified in Landsat and Spot images

In August of 1987, I went on atotally unexpected trip to Europe. TheAustrian government was sponsoring anInternational Symposium on Remote Sensingin honor of their once-citizen Bill Nordberg.It was held in his home town of Graz. At thesuggestion of Hugh Bloemer, I was invited(with all expenses paid) to be one of thekeynote speakers (chosen, I think, becauseof my dedication of Mission to Earth toNordberg). At Graz, I gave my speech,praising Nordberg and describing theachievements of Landsat, then listened to theother papers, fortunately most in English.

I had made arrangements to meet aprofessor at the University of Gottingenwho was interested in my geomorphologywork. While in Graz I learned that Bloemerwas driving to visit relatives in Hamburg andwould be glad to drop me off as Gottingenwas enroute. We drove through northernAustria into Germany, past Regensberg, andthen Hugh took a wrong turn going north.With the map on my lap, I soon realized wewere heading directly for the Fulda Gap(heavily militarized) in East Germany. Gotto within 10 miles of the border. We cutwest across back roads until we encountered

the Autobahn that passed Kassel, and thendetoured to Gottingen, where I arrivedaround 8 PM. My one day meeting with theprofessor proved mutually enlightening. Haddinner at his house, spent the next morningthere, then was put on a train that ultimatelywent to Munich. I was supposed to get offat Schweinfurt and catch another train westto Frankfurt, but no one told me that and Imissed the conductor’s announcement (inGerman) about the transfer to Frankfurt(only a few got off - a tip). By the time Ireached Wurzberg I knew I had made amistake. Had to backtrack and catch a latertrain, so I didn’t reach Frankfurt and myhotel until late in the evening. The flight backwas routine.

In March of 1988 I was contacted bya George Atamian of the Bushnell Corp. inSan Dimas, CA (near LA) about preparing a“toy” or juvenile educational kit that wouldbe a part of their Science series. These areboxes containing a pamphlet and various lowcost items used to explore some subject, likeastronomy or the environment. They aresold in Toys’R’Us and similar stores. Hewanted to develop one called SatelliteScience and I was recommended to producethe input. For this I received $5000, a pair offine Bushnell binoculars, and a supertelescope (which I still use for mybirdwatching hobby). As I progressed, heasked me to come to their office for aconference. While there, it was decided thatmy writing was too technical, so they hired agrade school teacher to simplify it, whichshe did while screwing it up technically.Satellite Science was completed, released in1989, did well in toy stores, and thenBushnell soon after pulled the plug on theirentire educational project. It remains,however, unique - the only space imagery kitmade exclusively for young people.

The Bushnell Satellite Science “Toy”

In early April of 1988, one of mycolleagues in the Goddard GeophysicalBranch, knowing that I had always wantedto go into teaching, came to my office withan issue of a Geophysics magazine that hada section on academic positions open forhire. There was an ad that fitted meperfectly. The Department wanted someoneto start a remote sensing program; theposition description also mentioned thatknowing Planetology would be a plus. Theschool was one of the State Universities ofPennsylvania, Bloomsburg University on theSusquehanna River about 45 milessouthwest of Wilkes-Barre. So, after gettinga reluctant OK to apply from my wife, whoreally didn’t want to move, I sent my Vita tothem.

What I didn’t know when I appliedwas how this position came about.Bloomsburg University’s (B.U.)Department of Geography and Geosciences(G&G) had lost a position through theretirement of its Astronomer; B.U.’sPhysics Dept. had just hired an Astronomer.But, when the B .U. Vice President had gone

to a professional meeting elsewhere, she sawa display of remote sensing technology thatmuch impressed her. She decided this subjectbelonged in the B.U. curriculum and G&Gwas the logical place to locate the personthey would hire. So she authorized theposition and, though late in the academicyear, the ad was inserted in several journals,including JGR where Taylor had found it.

My background was so much morecomplete and rounded than any otherapplicant that, on paper, I was far and awaythe leading candidate. My age howeverindicated that I would not stay long butcould get the program underway, andprobably could bring in outside money tobuild it up. So, they had me come to thecamplus. My interview was during the lastweek of classes. I gave a stellar presentationwhich proved I was a top expert. I told thefaculty in a joint meeting what the remotesensing course should be like. It needed to beorganized around computer processing. Asprequisites the students should beupperclass-persons, should have some mathand definitely some physics, but couldinclude people from beyond the G&Gstudents, i.e., from anywhere in theUniversity. They agreed to this. Myinterview with the A & S Dean, wentsmoothly and he concurred that I should get$25000 off the top for equipment, etc.

And sure enough, it was profferedjust a few weeks later. The rank was at theAssociate Professor level, definitely too lowsince several previous offers (e.g., KentState) were at a Full Professor. Nor wastenure included. That alone should havetipped me off and elicited a rejection, but Isuspected that the State System of HigherEducation (SSHE) would not authorize a fullprofessorship (that surmise proved wrong; ifI had demanded it, they would have likely

come up with it - again another mistake Imade since I was overanxious to break backinto teaching, realizing that my age wouldpreclude almost all other opportunities). ButI had tired of working at Goddard and thesituation in 1988 there was grim in outlook,since geological remote sensing was not wellsupported (JPL “uber alles”). I wanted tocap my career by ending in the academicworld which had been my original goal.

The Branch threw a quasi-retirementparty for me (again - double jeopardy. Ireceived several splendid gifts but none moreso than two pictures. The first showedMount St. Helens and had some of the ashbeneath the glass. The second, put togetherby Malcolm Tarlton, the young giant of aman who had been my draftsman andillustrator on several of the NASA books,was a montage of miniature photos of thedust jackets of all 7 books for which I wasresponsible. A great going-away. But thistime I would continue to stay closely intouch with most of my colleagues. And ofcourse Nick, Jr. was working there, as acomputer specialist in Bill Campbell’sInformation Sciences Branch.

It was really difficult for me to leaveGoddard after 21 bountiful years. But at

least I can gaze on it from above using thisIKONOS image (at 4 meter resolution):

`Goddard as viewed by the IKONOS satellite

Just before we were to leave forBloomsburg, I learned that the promised$25K had been lost - the University had ahalf million dollar over-run. To offset theloss of the $25K, I wrote a proposal to NSF.It didn’t get funded (largely, I think, becauseso much of it was for basic equipment; NSFreviewers usually discount any proposalthat has to start from scratch when basicequipment is lacking). I tried to be givensome support from the BloomsburgUniversity Foundation, but they failed tocome through. Thus, I entered the secondsemester, during which I was to give theRemote Sensing course, with real concernbecause the crux of the subject was soheavily tied to computer-based analysis. Ihad 12 students in this first class. None,repeat none, came from the Geologyprogram. I soon learned that not one studenthad ever taken a Physics course, and theirmathematical backgrounds were fair todismal. I taught the course using 100s of my

35 mm slides and abundant imagery from theextensive collection I brought with me fromGoddard. That was a third rate remedy.Even after I wised up enough to “dumbdown” the course, the student response tothe tests was way below my expectations.In effect, I failed to reach most of thestudents (several were smart, and gaineduseful knowledge from the course). When Icame to giving final grades, 5 students hadsuch low exam scores that I had to give an“F”. This had obvious repercussions: wordgot out that this was a hard course and one’sGPA would be lowered. Thus, in the secondyear I had only 8 students.

The second regular academic yearwent quite smoothly in the Fall Semester,but things really went awry in the Spring of‘91. After two years of promises, nothinghad been done about getting me anything forthe Remote Sensing course. I was gettingdisgusted just using 35 mm slides. I askedthe Department Chairman to push the

administration to fulfill their latest promiseof funding, now much less than $25000 sincecomputers has dropped way down in priceand I had located an excellent computersoftware package, Idrisi, suited for trainingin image processing. The semester startedwith no sign of action. I commenced thecourse, promising the students we’d get atleast one computer/software system fairlysoon. Nothing through mid-March. I finallydecided to take matters in my own hands -the Chairman wasn’t making the effort tomeet my deadline. I asked for anappointment with B.U.’s VP and Provost.Sat down with her, explained the problem,and received an immediate commitment forthe money, using a discretionary fund. Goahead and order, she said.

So, at last I got the money, placedthe orders, and the computer arrived 10 daysbefore the class ended. I spent all week endlearning the image processing program, thengave a demonstration on the final Mondayand set up times for each student to have 2hours on the computer. That went fine untilone student did something wrong andcrashed the system for the rest of the week.This whole thing left me disgusted. But I amhappy to report that my successor, Dr.Michael Sheperd, eventually got 10computers and other equipment to set upthe lab I had myself sought; the State HigherEducation System had voted in 1994 to addan equipment fee to all student tuition,which now gave B.U. $500000 a year forsuch necessities.

In 1992 I elected to retire again -permanently. But, this did not mean I wouldterminate my professional activities. Forabout a year, I worked on petrographicstudies of the Manson (Iowa) impact crater(32 miles wide; buried by glacial drift)which, in the 1960’s, I had proved

conclusively was caused by a collision withan asteroid - using shock metamorphism asthe evidence. Manson was then a candidateas the “killer crater” because its 65 millionyear age coincided with the demise of thedinosaurs. Later it was redated at 73 millionyears and fell out of contention. I was ableto produce a paper covering these shockfeatures, published in a Geological Society ofAmerica Proceedings on the recent studies ofthe Manson structure.

From 1993 to Fall of 1994, I wasgiven the honor of being a Sigma Xi (ScienceFraternity) lecturer. Most of my talks (at 10universities and several industries) were ontopics related to remote sensing. At one,Northern Iowa University, I was a visitingresident scholar for a month.

In mid-1995 something happenedthat was to become my dominant activityfor the next seven years - serving as a tonicor purgative for my health by keeping mymind so preoccupied that I wasted little time(with one exception in 1997) in thinkingabout my aches and pains. All this cameabout through an idea that Nick, Jr. came upwith which has led to my “magnum opus” inmy professional career.

Nick was still at Goddard in 1996when he first thought of this: a number oftimes he, because his name was identical tomine (when he omitted the “Jr.”), wascontacted by outsiders asking for a copy ofmy out-of-print Landsat TutorialWorkbook. Naturally, he couldn’t comply.But, after realizing that there must be somestrong interest “out there” in obtainingNASA-sponsored training documentspertaining to remote sensing, he broached thesubject to Bill Campbell and together theycame up with the notion that I perhapsshould revise and update that Tutorial andput it on the Internet. Thus was born the

idea for The Remote Sensing Tutorial(RST), a massive work with hundreds ofonline pages and more than 1000illustrations, many in color (far more thancould be practically included in a textbookon that subject which is usually limited inthe number of color plates since the copiesprinted would be too small to carry the costsof color work. I decided as time went on tomake the Tutorial far more comprehensive,with it embracing not only terrestrialapplications but the planets and the Cosmosas well. It would eventually include adownloadable image processing programcalled PIT and would have manyinnovations, including links to other Websites, that work only when online.

The address for the RST ishttp://rst.gsfc.nasa.gov. Going into the year2003, I am still maintaining and updating theRST. Working through the contractor to BillCampbell’s Code 935, Global Science andTechnology, Inc. (GST), I have earned morethan $80000 in “consulting” fees since 1996.Work began in May of 1996 on the firstparts of the Tutorial. Although not nowbeing funded, I continuously update theRST.

Here is the Table of Contents, whichamply describes the RST’s subject matterand scope; below the T of C is the logo onesees when going to the Web site or using theCD-ROM:ForewordOverview of this Remote Sensing Tutorial;"Getting Acquainted" QuizIntroduction to Remote Sensing: Technical andHistorical Perspectives; Special Applications suchas Geophysical Satellites, Military Surveillance,and Medical ImagingSection:1. Image Processing and Interpretation: MorroBay, California; First Exam2. Geologic Applications: Stratigraphy; Structure;Landforms

3. Vegetation Applications: Agriculture; Forestry;Ecology4. Urban and Land Use Applications5. Mineral and Oil Resource Exploration:6. Flight Across the United States: Boston to SanFrancisco; Quiz; World Tour7. Regional Studies: Use of Mosaics from Landsat8. Radar and Microwave Remote Sensing9. The Warm Earth: Thermal Remote Sensing10. Aerial Photography as Primary and AncillaryData Sources11. The Earth's Surface in 3-Dimensions: StereoSystems and Topographic Mapping12. The Human Remote Senser in Space:Astronaut Photography13. Collecting Data at the Surface: GroundTruth; the "Multi" Concept; HyperspectralRemote Sensing14. The Water Planet: Meteorological,Oceanographic and Hydrologic Remote Sensing15. Geographic Information Systems: The GISApproach to Decision Making16. Earth Systems Science; Earth ScienceEnterprise; and the EOS Program17. Use of Remote Sensing in Basic ScienceStudies I: Mega-Geomorphology18. Basic Science Studies II: Impact Cratering19. Planetary Remote Sensing: The Explorationof Extraterrestrial Bodies20. Astronomy and Cosmology: Remote SensingSystems that provide observations on theContent, Origin, Development of the Universe21. Remote Sensing into the 21st Century;Outlook for the Future; Final ExamAppendix A: Modern History of SpaceAppendix B: Interactive Image ProcessingAppendix C: Principal Components AnalysisAppendix D: Glossary

The Remote Sensing Tutorial Logo

As the reader may deduce, thecontents above pretty much draw upon andsummarize most of the subject matter inwhich I have specialized over the breadth ofmy career. It is thus a capstone project.

The RST has at least 15 mirror sitesaround the world, has an average of 5500hits per month, is very frequently referencedand cited, and has been adopted and utilizedby various universities and the ChineseScience community at Lanzou and theUkrainian Space Program. It is also part ofNASA’s Education Initiative.

In 2000, it was nominated for theInternational Pirelli Award ($25000) for thebest science or technology Web site. Itdidn’t win, possibly because, unknown tome, about 40 illustrations had not beenproperly transmitted to Italy online (acondition I missed because my downloadcapability is time-restricted by my slowmodem, so I did not uncover those bad pagesuntil too late). Meanwhile, it becameavailable in a CD-ROM version, which hassold moderately well.

One of the benefits I obtained fromGoddard and GST was a GatewayComputer that was state-of-the-art in 1996.This allowed me to construct the layout andimage placement at home. A local computerspecialist, Bob Rush, helped me for a year orso in this work. He taught me enough aboutusing an “.html” marker language toconstruct the pages that I became self-sufficient in making new pages or additions.My problem (and it was often a frustratingone) was that Code 935 elected to have myinputs placed online from down there atGoddard. First, I had to rely on a computerspecialist (with whom I had worked in mylast years at GSFC) to get material uponline. This could drag on for days, even

weeks. Then, that task was shifted to GST.Finally, in July of 2001, I received the OKfrom Bill Campbell to directly access theBranch Server computer, using WS-FTP totransmit the changes onto the Web site. TheRST currently is being managed by JohnBolton, director of Goddard’s RemoteSensing Educational Outreach Lab.

To recapitulate: the RST is thelargest literary undertaking in my more than5 decades of scientific endeavors, has beenboth satisfying and fun to create, and canjustifiably be considered the quintessence ofmy long career. It has kept me very busythrough much of my early retirement years.It has also wedded me to being an Internetjockey and has proven that, despite myinitial fears in the ‘80s, I can mastercomputer use.

So, to those readers who’ve gottenthis far - welcome to the summation.

By the Lord’s grace, at 75 I am stillactive professionally by virtue of theRemote Sensing Tutorial. We have now beenin Bloomsburg for 14 years, the longest thateither my wife and I have ever lived in thesame house. Since coming up here from theWashington, D.C. area, the Landsat TMsensor has produced this lovely image(subset) of these Pennsylvania mountainsand rolling farm lands (Bloomsburg incenter):

Bloomsburg on the Susquehanna River

As I look back over my career, oneconclusion is certain: My initial intentionsfor specialization that persisted through thePh.D. did not follow the script that waspresented when I entered the work force. Ihad expected to be a conventional geologistwith my roots in academe. Instead, I movedfirst into applying geology to undergroundnuclear explosions, then turned my researchtowards impact craters (at that time not yetfashionable), followed by directing mystudies into Planetology, and ultimatelyspending the bulk of my career in anothernew field: Remote Sensing.

When people ask what I amprofessionally, I often describe myself as anEXOTIC GEOSCIENTIST. But, thatphrase might belie the fact that all along I’veused those conventional teachings and skillsinculcated during my college years and for ashort time thereafter. The lesson I pass on issimple, just this: Become expert anddiversified in as much of the “regular”subjects you’re taught, for you never knowif “exotica” is your future.

Author’s Email Address:nmshort@nationi.net