P-G launches an online salvo

The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette has launched a War on Bloggers. Sure, we all knew this day was coming, but I think we deserved more of a warning. The P-G is adding a membership-only feature to its Web site that will require a $36 annual fee to access a major portion of the online information. I applaud the P-G for having the guts - and the content - to roll out this program. But why are they announcing this less than eight hours before it goes online at midnight?

For the past week, I saw vague advertisements in the print edition touting a GIANT + that didn't even begin to explain what would be coming. So we now have to react immediately by signing up for a membership that we don't entirely understand. I would suggest the P-G offer a 30-day trial period to the public, then pull the plug after we become acquainted with the new site. Otherwise, I'm going to wait until I see what content I'm losing before dropping $36 on something I don't necessarily need.

I think we're all interested in seeing how this works because the P-G is now the leading edge for online content. All I know, though, is that I just found a new blog about the WVU Mountaineers, and I'm going to be pretty disappointed if I lose it after one day. Plus, I don't know how Pirates Nation will do without the PBC Blog by Dejan Kovacevic if that is included in the package, as well. On second thought, to whom do I make out the check?

The closing door

By Amanda Gillooly
BLB Guest Blogger

In Stephen King’s book “On Writing,” I learned that he believed that while every wordsmith has her own style and method of composing, one rule of thumb is essential: Write with the door closed and edit with the door opened. That was like a ray of light to my career in newspapers. I stopped questioning my leads and running them in front of my peers. I think King was trying to advise me and other young writers to follow our collective guts when it came to storytelling.

I was lucky enough at the Observer-Reporter to work with reporters who never tried to point out what was wrong – only what could be improved. And through all those edits and all those stories, I stopped questioning myself so much as a writer. Mistakes are the reason the delete key was invented, after all. I was able to finally be writing clean and tight – two skills that had eluded me all those years since.

And here I am, sitting on my couch, looking at a box full of court transcripts and handwritten letters from a young man imprisoned at 17 for a crime he says he didn’t commit. I was super excited to be a part of the Innocence Institute again. I worked on its flagship investigation and received credit for the series, which ran in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette. I’ve been over every piece of paper. I’ve made lists of notes. I’ve read manuals and done research online to understand some of the legal things I just couldn’t wrap my brain around.

Then, last weekend, I visited this now-32 year-old man’s parents and younger brothers. I sat with them for two hours and in the midst of our conversation the phone rang. It was him. His mother smiled broadly and told him he had someone he wanted to introduce, and then handed me the phone. And after talking with the young man, and being thanked by him for my time, I felt too small to write the story.

I’ve made an outline, but every time my fingers try to flush out a lead, nothing comes. I’ll type a few words, stop, read what I have written and promptly erasing them. And with that sentence gone, only the blinking cursor remains – my enemy. I questioned everything.

The "what ifs" surfaced shortly thereafter. What if it isn’t good enough? What if my mentor didn’t dig it? And I realized that I lost more than my job, I lost the people who were always more than coworkers and more like coaches or cheerleaders. Since I couldn't turn to my podmates for a bit of reassurance, I turned to my familiar muses – I read some Emerson and Rilke and Thoreau. But nothing made me feel big enough to be able to do this story justice.

Then a voice from my high school years came floating up into memory. A local author, Albert French, told me that at the end of the day, a writer just has to fill the page. And I was heartened. I’d forgotten that we writers can be great or we can completely flub a story on any given deadline. But at the end of the day, the writer has to write.

So I ignored that mocking cursor and started at the beginning.

With the door closed.

Amanda Gillooly previously worked for the Observer-Reporter and now freelances for the Valley Independent in Monessen, Pa. She can be reached by e-mail at amandabgillooly@gmail.com

A new approach

It's obvious paper resumes and bland cover letters are not making an impact on potential employers. That means it's time to use every resource available, so I'm now trying to consider alternative resources by taking some advice from one of the blog's first readers.

"Roger" mentioned two months ago that it would be wise to produce personal business cards. I figured I would have a new job by the time the cards rolled off the printing press, but I obviously was wrong. Instead, I lost a couple of opportunities to sell myself. While freelancing for the Tribune-Review recently, I have met people who asked for a business card, but I was left empty handed.

I have since designed two variations of the cards to distribute to different people. I plan to have a standard version that will be given to sources while I'm on the clock with the Trib. The other template will be touting Michael Jones the breadliner. I'm not sure if this will work, but I'm excited about appearing like a professional again, and I advise my fellow breadliners to consider a similar plan. Thanks, Roger, for the idea.

Flight Dates...

I can finally be public about our flight attempt dates.
We will be flying the last two days of the contest.
October 30 and October 31st at FAR. This gives us the maximum time to prepare and guarantees that we know what we are aiming for for given any tie breakers.

You can see the Xprize press release here
(I could not find it on the xpf site so I linked to Space transport news instead.)

Some notes on the other dates:

Masten has reserved October 28,29 so that means any not-yet registered teams could
fly on the 26t/27th in the Mojave area or earlier else where.

This in effect moves the registration deadline for any other teams up to
September 9th or September 12th

Update:
If Armadillo fails on the 12th-13th they can register to try again and just sneak in under the time window. In talking to others it somewhat clear that Armadillo choose the latest date that would allow them to try again.

Riding the (t)rails

HENDERSONVILLE, Pa. - Water trickled from the ceiling and sunshine melted away into chilling darkness the farther I walked into this dank tunnel along The Montour Trail in Washington County.

The 623-foot long National Tunnel - although cold, wet and eerie - was the highlight of a Tuesday morning jaunt on this rail-to-trail that extends 46 miles from Coraopolis to Clairton. Built in 1928 and originally used by the Montour Railroad, the National Tunnel burrows beneath Klinger Road and a couple homes in Cecil Township.

It was somewhat unsettling to see the cracks in the roof and water rolling down the walls, but those perceived blemishes made the tunnel surprisingly beautiful. The water created an artistic feature to the trail that rivaled the peaceful landscape along other portions of the crushed limestone passage.

Walking through the tunnel, though, made for a lonely experience. That was until a friendly biker entered while I was nearing the midpoint. The humming of bicycle tires and his whistling the entire way calmed the nerves in a portion where no natural light enters. These rail-to-trail projects seem to be a great community investment, as I saw dozens of walkers and bikers getting a little exercise on a beautiful August morning.

But as gas prices continue to fluctuate, it is a shame that we are dismantling our rail infrastructure - the former backbone of commerce - for recreation. Still, I suppose the rails-to-trails are useful and a better option than letting these railroad treasures fade away.

The generational cycle

Two months, and not a single interview. The resumes have been flying out at a feverish pace lately, but what good does it do when yours is buried beneath 200 others? This job market sucks. It is far worse than what I remember upon my graduation in 2005, which even then wasn't exactly setting the world on fire. In the two months after graduation, I sent out only a few resumes, but still received two interviews. The second landed me a job in Charleston, W.Va. Now, it appears harder than ever for us to showcase our skills to potential employers.

So where does this leave any of us in the bread line? Greg Tarr has a good plan by starting his own photography business. And Amanda Gillooly is freelancing while also doing research for the Innocence Institute. Others think going back to school would be the best idea. But none of these is even remotely close to a guarantee.

Which brings me to the generational gap of prosperity. The retired generation - our grandparents - fought in World War II and reaped the benefits of the post-war society. Suburbs and highways popped up as America recalibrated itself for peacetime. They earned everything, and took nothing for granted. That wealth trickled down to their children - our parents - riding the wave or prosperity and going to college. But in the end, that generation - the George W. Bush generation - took for granted what their parents gave them. Most of them worked hard, but the over-privileged and well-connected clicked the cruise control - giving their hardworking peers a bad name - without ever contemplating what would be left for their children.

The economy today is in its worst state since The Great Depression when our grandparents were young. So now it is up to us to rebuild this country, this economy. That's why I think the election of Barack Obama is so interesting. He rode the wave of a younger generation to win the presidency, and I think that signals a change in the direction of our country. Young people are a new force - just like in the 1940s - and it is now our turn to put our stamp on America. The status quo is finished. It is now our turn to fix the mistakes by the previous generation.

Rocket parts and fruit

In spite of the whimsical picture and title this is a serious post.
I can make rocket parts, or I can buy rocket parts. I can grow my own fruit or I can go buy fruit.

I design embedded electronics as my primary profession. When I first started I built elaborate breadboards and test circuits, I even played with etching my own PCB's. Now I order pcb's from the prototype PCB vendor for everything. Even test circuits. What changed?
I'm much more experienced and my designs have a lot more experience behind them. I've learned what works and what does nott I can read a data sheet (including what is not in the data sheet, often the most important part.) I've also learned that spending the money getting a proper prototype PCBs and assembly is a more cost effective use of my time.

At home we have a peach tree, it grows wonderful peaches to the point that we are all tired of peach pie by the time it drops the last peach. There is a sense of satisfaction from growing your own. All the rest of our food we purchase.

When I started working on rockets it my attitude was more hobby and satisfaction from doing oriented. You can see from the old blog posts we built valves, gearoxes and even weird tanks.
As the project has matured and we've started actually doing work for customers I'm starting to realize the value in off the shelf stuff. My attitude is becoming more business like.

For a number of years now we have been sending drawings and material to thunderbird waterjet here in San Diego and having them cut out parts. We had the hemispheres for our tanks spun by AMS industries. Yet the vast majority of our parts have been fabricated by us for us. We don't generate elaborate 3D models and then fabricate the parts, we build a little, scratch our head and build some more. If we did not have in house machinging capabilities it would significantlyy impede our progress, having to wait for an outside vendor to fabricate every bracket and doodah would take forever. I think this lack of inhouse capabilities is one of the things that has slowed Masten down. Yet fabricating everything in house does not make sense either . Some things like the regen rocket motor I documented on this bblog were fabricated in house from detailed drawings. I think that was an error. I'm in the process of fabricating a new regen motor from stainless. I sent the drawings out for quote on MFG quote and was astonished at the price quote I got. The stainless part among the fruit is the first signifcant custom part we have not fabricated in house. Several more parts of that assembly are due soon. I can't imagine the nightmare of machining that part out of solid stainless, yet the vendor did a really good job for a very fair price. (I'll talk more about the vendor and ordering process when I get the full set of parts, so far I'm pleased.) One of the down sides is that our welder is going on vacation for 10 days and the ordered parts are going to just miss his departure, so we won't be testing much for about two more weeks.

Its not always easy to know what to build and what to contract out, I think its really important to have in house fabrication skills and equipment, but I also think we have erred in not sending more work out.

A final question for the peanut gallery, I'm 90% sure the vendor making these parts underbid the job. They had a couple of programming problems and probably scrapped more metal than their profit margin. As a business man I feel strongly in win win arrangements with vendors.
If the business is not win win then eventually the vendor won't be there next time you need him. Would you bring this up with the vendor and offer to cover some of their loss?
(Clearly by the terms of the quote I don't have to)

Fierce competition

It's hard enough to find a job nowadays without competing against your friends. We're all looking for new jobs because none of us in the newspaper industry feel safe. Unless you're a civil engineer, brain surgeon or a Pennsylvania state legislator, your job probably is in jeopardy.

So I found out today that two of my buddies applied to the same job at an unnamed nuclear power plant builder in the area. Take a wild guess where it's based (I'll give you a hint and say it is headquartered in a township named after a berry). I thought I had scoped out a sweet deal, only for them to never call me back, nor did the company ever call back my friends. So how many other people are applying for these jobs? It's a vicious market out there right now. If you're lucky enough to find an opening somewhere, then you have to be equally as lucky to actually score an interview. And I don't even know which saint you have to be praying to in order to actually get the job.

What I'm trying to say here is that it's difficult enough to find a new profession. But why do friends have to compete against each other? Maybe it's just a sign we're all in the same boat... with or without a paycheck.

A shorter bread line

I awoke this morning to sad news: Another potential Bread Line Blogger has found work. Sure, it was a long shot, but why wouldn't Brett Favre want to write a few posts about his fourth retirement in three years? I'm sure Favre could comment about how tough it is to spend time with the family and not earn a million-dollar paycheck. But what I see in Favre is that older employee in the office who can't leave. For whatever reason, Farve just can't give it up - and I think it's pathetic.

In fact, I am more annoyed about the Minnesota Vikings signing Favre than I was about the Philly Eagles picking up another former breadliner - or should I say chain ganger? - better known as Mike Vick. What Vick did with Bad Newz Kennels was heinous, but he has paid a hefty price. Two years in prison and bankruptcy will humble a man, even superstar athletes. But in America, you have the right to make a living, so I applaud NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell for not suspending Vick for the entire season. Now, that doesn't mean I think Vick deserved a contract offer, but he certainly has the right to pursue one. His actions off the football field will show if he truly is sorry about what he did with his dog-fighting sideshow.

As for Favre, his actions show a lazy man who manipulates teams and the system to skip out on training camp. While it is not as overt, this is no different than a cocky wide receiver holding out of training camp until he gets that bigger contract. Imagine if Ben Roethlisberger did that in Pittsburgh. But because everyone loves Brett Favre, most people will consider this a victory for the league. Not me. Although I love how he plays the game, I'm sick of Brett Favre's tired act. If you want to play, Brett, then don't announce that you are retired and confirm that decision a few days before training camp only to return three weeks before the start of the season.

Of course, this decision has consequences. With news of the signing, I would like to formally welcome soon-to-be former Vikings quarterback John David Booty to the bread line. And while he will be losing his jersey number and eventually his job, he's more than welcome to write for this blog. Maybe we'll call it the Booty Blog.

Another Long Day.

The Day Started at 5:30 I spent the first hour planning my weekend. the next hour I laid out the parts and peices for the days and figured out what I was missing. Then I was at Marshals Industrial hardware store at 8:am and the IMS Metal supply at 8:30.
... Its 10:30 PM I'm done for the day.

I Fabricated two beefy bearing holders and gearbox adapters for to the ball screws that will be the gimbal actuators on the silver beast. I also machined the ball screw ends and made a planetary spider to ball screw adapter. Its going to be a light, strong, fast and brush less gimbal actuator.
They are about 1/2 the weight and cost of the bug actuators everyone else is using. (assuming my time is worth zero, any realistic valuation of time and there insanely expensive.)

I also spent about 4 hours at Flometrics testing injector concepts for the Bi-prop and Steve an I built a flow visulization test setup. Many thanks to Steve! We used Flometrics Pistonless Rocket Pump as the drive the injectors, we could dial up any pressure from 50 to 400PSI and it just worked. It was flawless. Some of the misting spray nozzles have a maximum pressure, we discovered that one of the tested spray heads had unstable flow above its rated pressure. It was a swirl nozzle and it had cavitaion where the flow was really erattic. That was about the only real supprise everything else tested as one would expect it to.

I'll post some pictures of the tests. Sunday I hope to turn what I learned from the testing into a set of drawings to Fabricate the injector. I also ope to compeltly finish my actuators.
It was nive to spend the weekend making stuff rather than driving out to the desert/FAR.

Enter... With Cameras

By Greg Tarr
BLB Guest Blogger

I'm approaching a month and a half of glorious unemployment and all I can tell you is that there's nothing glorious about it. I hate it. I hate the fact that every time I spend a dollar I get a sick, nervous feeling in my stomach. It has to end soon, but I'm not sure it will. So I'm taking that bull by the horns and deciding my own future. No one to depend on but myself.

A few days after realizing that the medical field wasn't for me, I had an idea pop into my head. "Why not make money taking pictures?" I thought to myself on a Sunday afternoon while driving back home from Subway. Gotta eat fresh, right? And more importantly, gotta eat often.

Photography is what I know. It's all I know. I've stopped wracking my brain trying to figure out what new path I could take. Let's just say I'm hiking in the same forest that I've been in the past 10 years, but trekking down a new trail. I have officially retired from the newspaper industry. The future isn't all that bright there.

Now, my new concentration of photography is going to be weddings. It's something I had feared shooting for years, but it's time to drop that fear. I was afraid of the pressure to capture moments that happen once in a lifetime. You only get one shot. But then I told myself that I've shot under pressure situations as a photojournalist and I've produced quality work when called upon.

I'm so excited to get started documenting weddings for a career. I will be shooting in a photojournalistic style, which has become very popular with brides the past few years. I'm looking forward to documenting the ceremonies without having to worry about posing photographs. It's what I love about photography.

That's my future and I think it's pretty darn sexy. Unfortunately the present is about as sexy as a bikini clad Rosie O'Donnell. I'm researching the field, trying to learn all about business plans before I write my own checks and decide what equipment I'll need. Although it's not a lot of fun right now, I know that it will all pay off at some point later. And it's what I love to do.

I just wish I had the gear now so I could start shooting immediately! I'm trying to be patient. But a man can show only so much patience when he's depending on Uncle Sam to pay the bills.

Greg Tarr previously worked as a staff photographer at the Observer-Reporter in Washington, Pa. The photo above - entitled Last Minute Prep - was shot by Tarr in May 2005. He can be reached by e-mail at gmtarr@hotmail.com

Why Space Matters

Why does space matter?

I'm lucky in that I was born in the united States. Our family has multiple cars, a house to our selves, more food than we should eat. Our standard of living by any real measure is better than any group in history. The United States has about 5% of the world population and consumes about 30% of its resources. Personally our family is probably above average in resource consumption even for US citizens. So I'm going to ask and answer a series of questions.

1)Are citizens of China, or Sub Saharan Africa inherently inferior to my family?
NO they are not,I believe all humans are born with certain inherent value.

2)Do they have a right to aspire to what I have.
Yes they do.

3)Do we think that global terrestrial resource production can be increased 6 fold from what it is now?
No I don't think that is reasonable outcome.

4)Is there any process where U.S citizens will voluntarily reduce there standard of living by a factor of 6. No I don't think that will happen.

5)Do we the U.S have the right to use force to prevent others from having what we have?
No we do not.

6)Will some combination of conservation and increased production create a factor of 6 when adjusted for the ongoing population growth in the world?
This is the option that all the traditional "Greens" or environmentalists are betting on. They naturally feel that if we just cut back a little bit everything will be better. I just don't see it. It is such a violation of natural human striving tendencies I can't see getting to a factor of 6.


So unless you want to change the answer to one of the 6 questions above "we" the population of the world are in a no win scenario. Some things like good batteries and low cost fusion power could help significantly, but its not enough. Just imagine how much steel it would take to give every family on earth 2 cars? (Recent studies have shown that mass transit when fully accounted over the life cycle of the system are just as resource intensive as a small Car. )

Where will the additional resources come from?
Where can we do dirty industrial process where we don't soil the environment?
Where can we find unlimited energy?
Unlimited expansion space?
Unlimited metals?
Unlimited Organics?
(Don't nit pick Unlimited in this context means several orders of magnitude more than we have now)

The only two answers are a 6 fold reduction in earth's population or expansion into space.

We are spending trillions on the assumed option in question 6 and simple math shows its not possible. Where are the trillions helping us expand in a way that can work?

Just something to think about....

In the public interest

"I can't remember a time when I didn't want to be a reporter. I don't know where I got the idea that it was a romantic calling."
-Charles Kuralt

By Amanda Gillooly
BLB Guest Blogger

Nobody gets into the newspaper industry for the money. Of all the things ever said or written about print media and the daily deadline, I think I can definitively say that getting rich just ain’t one of them. I have worked with some people whose motivating factors were less than noble: People who rested on their proverbial laurels and never tried to hit above the mark and others who have more passion for controlling headlines and bylines that they forget the true meaning of the free press.

Because all of my journalist heroes - who include everyone from Woodward and Bernstein to Bill Moushey and Scott Beveridge - innately feel that their jobs are greater than their egos. The true newspaper men and women know somewhere in them that they are the purveyors of truth and the official record of our daily lives. And despite what some people might have a person believe, greatness of a newspaper man stems from the idea that a free America is rooted in the idea of a free press.

You can lay a newspaper man (or woman) off, but you can’t take those philosophical ideologies away because those professional standards are at the heart of why we go to work each day - each morning starting anew. And to be one of the best of us, heart is what matters most. Reporting is about a natural curiosity and comfort with asking questions - even the cruelest or the saddest ones - and about believing that we are more like the fictional Super Man than his dayside character Clark Kent.

I was counseled by Gene Collier, a columnist for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, when he reviewed some of my college work and taught me that the first thing young writers have to learn is how to be unafraid. I thought I got it then, but I know I get it now. There’s being afraid of writing, and being afraid of reporting. But I like to think that maybe he meant that the great ones aren’t afraid of being great on any given deadline - to be ready for their questions to have answers that can effect change… That help prove my point that, most of all, a newspaper man must believe in his heart that he is - above all things - a public servant by nature.

When I sat it hours-long meetings in Anytown, Pa. during my six or so years as a professional, it could get boring. It count get technical. It could be about sewage and variances and stuff I thought I might need either a law or an engineering degree to even begin to understand. But I counseled myself with the knowledge that while I was there technically and professional to represent the various publications for which I wrote, there was something in me that knew that my role in those municipal building and board rooms was more.

I reminded myself when my mind wandered to the after-work beer or weekend event that I was there to serve the interests of the public -- to ensure that the public bodies conducting business by the books, and to let the people know in their absentia about the events that will, in some way or another, affect their daily lives.

America is a land built on checks and balances, and I really believe that a free press is one of them. At the very least, I believe even my most mundane stories helped someone, whether it be about a tap-in fee or a detour or crime in the area. I had the privilege of writing about a Washington neighborhood's struggle with drugs and a questionable response from the city. I was giddy when Beveridge and I were awarded first place for enterprise reporting by the Associated Press. But that was nothing in comparison to how I felt when the two of us went back to "The Hill" and chronicled the goings on there one year later.

Stuff had changed. Drug dealers were in jail. A new leader had been elected. And while I would never be so arrogant as to say I had any direct role in that process, I will be so arrogant to know that maybe journalism did. That is why I feel so happy that, even though I am unemployed at the moment, I am still a newspaper woman. I am still trying to be that voice of truth (and as I write I do realize how corny I sound). While I take pride in every story I tell, I am particularly pleased to be again volunteering for The Innocence Institute of Point Park University.

Moushey runs it, and the work he and his students have done has helped bring light to some injustices. I was lucky enough to be part of its flagship investigation in the deaths of two small-time Bear Rocks drug peddlers that led to the conviction of a man named David Munchinski. As a senior at Point Park, I was part of a small group of students who reviewed thousands of pages of documents and wrote a story filled with information casting doubt about the man’s innocence. Munchinski’s attorney, Noah Geary, is still fighting a legal battle in federal court, arguing for his immediate release.

Working with an organization you know can change lives helps me remember the best of journalism at a time when the medium I grew to love to the point of being cheesey is in what many people have come to believe is gasping its dying breaths. During a conversation a few moments ago with a peer and fellow newspaper geek (ie: laid-off reporter) we recalled some of the worst calls we’ve seen in our brief careers in newspapers. It is too easy to remember the bad stories, the bad editors, the bad days and the small paychecks. It is easy to say, “To hell with it, I want to be in public relations. Newspapers are dying anyway.”

But its people like Beveridge and Moushey and organizations like The Innocence Institute that remind me of what the best of journalism is. So while I weather this newspaper storm (confident that while inky print may die, it role in society never will) I still aspire to be one of the best of us.

Employed or not.

Amanda Gillooly previously worked for the Observer-Reporter and now freelances for the Valley Independent in Monessen, Pa. She can be reached by e-mail at amandabgillooly@gmail.com

The Worst Moments

On Sunday, I shared my favorite memories as a newspaper reporter. Today, I added the worst moments on the job.

3: The fatal - Nothing is more chilling to hear on the police scanner than an officer reporting to dispatchers that a car accident is “Code Black.” That was the lingo in West Virginia for a fatal car accident. Although it was my job as police reporter, I hated going to the scene, especially for motorists who were ejected from their cars. I saw things that no one should see and would never be described in print, although I have no doubt firefighters and police officers saw much worse. It’s something I hated, but certainly was important for the public to have a reporter at the scene to get the most accurate information.

2: Grieving families - After each tragedy, the public invariably wants to know about the deceased, and no one has better information than relatives. People grieve in different ways, and it was my job to contact them for interviews. After finding their phone numbers, it would take me a minute - and a few deep breaths - to suck up the strength to dial those digits. After introducing myself and my intentions, I always offered my condolences. Each time, I tried to put myself in their shoes and consider how I would feel about a nosey reporter calling during a difficult time. But I found that many grieving relatives were happy to talk. I’m not sure if it was therapeutic, or they just wanted the public to know a little bit about their family member, but more often than not, I was met with little resistance. Even though it was my job to produce a story, much of me hoped the conversation helped console them. In a sense, I gave them a final chance to talk about their loved one.

1: The murder-suicide - Just a couple months into the job in Charleston, I had the chance to meet a man creating a customized motorcycle - ala Orange County Choppers - to honor West Virginia. I interviewed the man and wrote a full-page story about the creator and his motorcycle, which would be raffled off for charity. It was a story I was proud of. But just seven months later, I had to report that the man fatally shot his wife before turning the gun on himself. While doing a follow-up story, I interviewed one of his wife’s friends, who was in the house at the time of the shootings and she told me in chilling detail about how the couple’s two young children witnessed the killing. I wrestled with my role as a story teller and how it affects people’s lives. The hurt it caused the family weighed against the public’s interest in an important story. That report earned me a 3rd place award for feature story in West Virginia, but it still haunts me more than three years later.

-30-

Thats why we test...

We tested again Saturday. This was the first time I was responsible for the FAA notification and not just piggy-backing on the FAR standard waivers. The Airspace at FAR is interesting. From ground from ground level to 1200 feet AGL we are in uncontrolled airspace. From 1200 ft AGL l to 18000 ft MSL we are under the FAA jurisdiction, from 18000fto to 50K ft we are under the jurisdiction of the Edwards 2508 restricted area. Since I’m under 1200 ft AGL for tethered (or free) flights I don’t need a waiver or authorization to enter controlled airspace. Since I’m not entering controlled airspace. Yet the new FAR 101.27 requires I notify the nearest ATC facility between 24 and 72 hours before the event. A lot of the stuff flown at FAR goes above the 18K limit so when I asked FARS primary Pyro op who to notify I was given the 2508CCB contact. They did not want the notification because we aren’t in their airspace. When I called the loacal High Desert ATC facility

ATC: how high,
ME: 45ft
ATC: Why are you telling me this.
ME:Can I have your Fax number.
ATC:Here it is xxx.xxx.xxxx
ATC:What am I supposed to do with the document your faxing?
ME:I don’t really know I just know I have to send it to you. It does not effect your airspace were chained to a 10000lb forklift.
ME: FAR 101.27 says I have to tell someone. I’m crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s.
ATC I see.

So I faxed the notification required of 101.27 to the High desert ATC facility.

A few weeks ago our FAA representative asked if he could come out a watch us fly so Wynn came out to observe our flights and flight preparation. We were all setup by 9 am and were attempting to do a 90 second Tethered hover. We had never successfully flown at that weight. We didn’t do it on Saturday either. You can see the heavy takeoff video here our vehicle is VERY light without payload or propellant we weight less than 100 lbs. Since we are using a low performance propellant so we need a lot of it so our weight with payload and full fuel is about 400lbs. This means that we have a 3:1 weight change in flight. From the video its obvious that with a 3:1 weight change we need to do some gain scheduling as we had plenty of thrust, plenty of control authority we just weren’t stable. We continued to do short hops until we had dissipated enough propellant to fly stably. We eventually got an absolutely perfect 65 second flight but that happened after the one remaining video camera ran out of battery. So no video. We will try again soon.

I think that Wynn (our FAA rep) was impressed with how remote the FAR site is. You just can’t get a feel for how remote things are by looking at google earth. Standing on site and seeing the total desolation in every direction gives you a better feel. I think Wynn enjoyed the show, I’m glad we got at least one successful flight off for him.

Thoughts on the stability issue: With a gimbals system the forces generated by the thrust vector scale directly with the motor thrust. With vanes the relationship is not so clear as one increases thrust one increases the density of the gasses within the cone that the vanes act in. So its not clear if the vector forces are linear with thrust (thrust is a good stand in for weight and a marginally good stand in for rotational inertia) or if they increase or decrease? Looking at the video this looks a lot like earlier problems where the differential gain was too high. I don't really know if I should just lower all the attitude gains or if I should vary the P,D terms differently.

I have not yet reviewed the data, I hope to do so this week.

I also added another wiggles video from onboard.

The life of kings

“… as I look back over a misspent life, I find myself more and more convinced that I had more fun doing news reporting than in any other enterprise. It is really the life of kings.”
-H.L. Mencken

Four years ago today, I began my journalism career at the Charleston (W.Va.) Daily Mail. I enjoyed the job immensely because it was so unique. I saw things and talked to people that would make many jealous and/or cringe. What follows over the next two days is my list of best and worst moments on the job.

The Best Moments

1: Katrina - I became a reporter because I wanted a job that few other people could do. Little did I know that three weeks into my career, I would be thrust into one of the biggest stories of my generation. We all remember the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in the Gulf Coast, and how it took days to get aid to the evacuees. But I was just a spectator until four days after the storm when my boss at the Daily Mail turned to me and asked if I wanted to go to New Orleans. The 130th West Virginia Airlift Wing was preparing to leave immediately to evacuate the injured and offered one position for a reporter on the C-130. We would be gone during Labor Day weekend and none of the other reporters could go, so my editor turned to me. I packed my bags, rushed to Yeager Airport and was in the New Orleans area before midnight. I never entered the city, but spent much of the time at Louis Armstrong International Airport. There, I saw things that I could barely describe in words, especially for a rookie reporter. It was the most difficult and satisfying assignment of my career.

2: Obama stumps at W&J - It’s not often you get to cover the future leader of the free world. But there was Barack Obama, standing just a few feet away from me at Washington & Jefferson College, discussing veterans’ care. Although he still had not secured the Democratic nomination for president, it was clear he would in just a couple months. As exciting as this assignment was for me, I could only cringe watching the traveling press that had to follow him to each campaign event. How boring would this be to hear the same speech and dig to find that small nugget of new information. Sen. John McCain came to Washington a few months later while introducing his new vice presidential pick, Sarah Palin. My only regret is that I was not in town that weekend and did not have a chance to cover the Republican challenger.

3: The byline - Even four years after my career began, I still got a rush from seeing my name next to a story. Sure, not a lot of people actually care about who wrote the story, but it does give some insight on the author and how the story will read. There is something about the byline that puts a stamp on your story: You stand by your work. And to make things even more interesting, we reporters include our e-mail addresses and work phone numbers so any angry reader/source can easily contact us to let their complaints be known. In a time when the Internet allows for anonymous posts and comments, a newspaper reporter literally put his name beside his work.

My worst memories on the job will appear Monday…

This isn't your mother's garden

MURRELLS INLET, S.C. - Thousands of statues and an endless collection of beautiful flowers greet visitors in this massive botanical garden just a few miles south of Myrtle Beach. The Brookgreen Gardens are an impressive and unique attraction in a region where go-karts, amusement parks and beaches rule. My girlfriend, Tiffany, and I traveled to the gardens last weekend on a day when dark rain clouds dampened a day at the beach. Volunteers hand you a map that hardly gives new visitors an inkling of what they'll see. The plan on which gardens to visit quickly collapsed and we just walked wherever the path led us.

After more than an hour, we had seen enough statues to satisfy a lifetime, so we went to the historical section of the park - a walking tour of the four plantations that once dotted Brookgreen. Eleven stations along the Lowcountry Trail allowed a recorded voice to explain the lives of the plantation owners, overseers and slaves who used these swampy fields fed by the Waccamaw River to harvest rice.

It began raining halfway through the tour, but it made me think about the the ugly conditions these Africans faced more than 200 years ago. We took shelter under the drooping trees and eventually continued the tour. Platforms overlooking the rice patties allowed us a glimpse into the slaves' lives. But we weren't down in that muck and the water.

We came for the gardens, but found more than just flowers and statues.

(Photos by Tiffany Wheatley)

Final thoughts

It has been a sad 24 hours for those of us from Pittsburgh. We've learned about the victims, the killer and the circumstances surrounding the Tuesday night shootings near Bridgeville, Pa. The facts are helping us to understand why it happened, but they can't possibly explain anything to grieving family members. That leaves me with some final thoughts before we move forward.

The basic facts are that the killer obviously was psychotic, he purchased the handguns legally and hated women. Although he did purchase the weapons legally, he was using double magazine clips that held 30 rounds for each of his two 9mm handguns, meaning he did not have to reload while firing nearly 50 shots in about a minute. These clips are apparently legal in America after the assault weapons ban expired in 2004. My one question is: Why would any law-abiding gun owner need to fire 30 bullets before reloading?

Crimes like this have been happening across our country for years; Columbine, Virginia Tech and many others. They are meant to create terror, no differently than the 9/11 attacks. But just as travelers began flying on airplanes the following week, people here also began moving forward with their daily lives. Some of the businesses in the shopping center that is home to LA Fitness were bustling with a few curious spectators gawking at the numerous satellite news trucks in the parking lot. I had one thought as I drove past the crime scene to a neighboring shopping center to buy groceries: If these angry, psychotic killers think they can terrorize us and change how we live our lives, they are wrong... We will not live in fear.

The next day

Disturbing details are emerging about the 48-year-old Scott Township man who opened fire last night at a local fitness center, killing at least three women and injuring several others. The coward, who will remain nameless on this blog, posted numerous angry and rambling messages on an online log that were only accessible to those who knew his birth date or other personal information. He clearly was a loner and talked about his problems meeting and dating women. I'll wait for investigators to make a final determination, but it's clear he hated women and likely targeted them inside the health center.

It is clear he wanted as much publicity as possible after his death, so his blog will not be linked here, unlike other local media Web sites. He even goes so far as to copyright his material and request anything that is republished be edited for grammar mistakes. I find it pathetic that some suckers in the media are linking to this blog to give this man the attention he does not deserve. I have no problem if they clip some quotes from the log, but please limit the amount of exposure this man gets.

What is most disturbing, though, is that he wrote about walking into the fitness center on Jan. 6 with a duffel bag full of guns. He was going to carry out this plan then, but lost his nerve and left. So how many other people are walking around with duffel bags full of guns or pistols strapped to their legs, just waiting to kill? That's a question all of us are left to ponder.

But that is a question we will consider later. Today, I would like to offer my condolences to the victims and their families. Sadly, I suspect even those who made it out of the gym without gunshot wounds will hold internal scars for years. In fact, all of us feel a little different this morning.

Enough is enough

I returned from vacation tonight to devastating news near my hometown in Western Pennsylvania. Although this blog is supposed to be dedicated to unemployment, my problems pale in comparison to what happened at 8:16 p.m. - just about 20 minutes after pulling into my garage following a 10-hour drive from Myrtle Beach, S.C.

I live just a couple miles from the LA Fitness in Collier Township, Pa., and am sickened by the mass shooting that has killed multiple people doing the abominable act of exercising. When - as a people, as a country - will we decide enough is enough? I'm afraid, we'll never tire of this bloodshed. Something needs to change.

The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette is reporting that at least four people - including the cowardly gunman - are dead. Several others are in critical condition, so the death toll could rise. Many media outlets are saying this shooting was prompted by a break-up. What a joke.

There are two helicopters hovering in the distance where the Great Southern Shopping Center is situated. I have frequented those shops ever since I was 5 years old. The media has gathered in the Bob Evans parking lot where I've eaten numerous times. From the copter shots, I can see the Wendy's restaurant where my buddies and I gathered after high school football games. Next to the fitness center is the former building that housed the Old Country Buffet where I ate with my mom. My mother actually called me about the incident because she heard the constant wailing of ambulance sirens rushing by her house to nearby St. Clair Hospital. This is hitting home hard.

This is not the first time our area has dealt with such a horrific shooting spree. Four months ago to the day, three Pittsburgh police officers were (allegedly) gunned down by Richard Popolawski. I hate that word allegedly, by the way. It was the deadliest day for the Pittsburgh Bureau of Police in its history. Two other officers were seriously injured during the gun battle.

In April 2000, Richard Baumhammers killed five people during a racially motivated rampage through several neighborhoods. The killing began in my hometown of Mt. Lebanon and our high school was locked down that day. This is becoming all too familiar.

PA Debit - It's nowhere you want to be

By Amanda Gillooly
BLB Guest Blogger

CORAOPOLIS, Pa. - I made a trek last week to the local Rite Aid to pick up only the essentials: An albuterol inhaler and some gummy bears. I set my items down on the counter, and swiped my official Commonwealth of Pennsylvania debit card without thinking about the keystone emblazoned there on the flimsy piece of plastic.

The cute 20-something guy on cash register duty hadn’t said much more than the typical “Good morning, how are you?” when he broke the silence as I was punching in my pin: “So, you’re unemployed, huh?”

I paused -- and I wondered if there was something about me that said “Hey, brother, can you spare a dime for the bus?” I almost said something smarmy about the poor economy and it being tough out there when the young man reached into his back pocket, whipped out his wallet and unveiled his own official debit card through the state unemployment office (one each of us in the bread line get with our first unemployment payment.

My bad.

For the first week of unemployment I was mostly in shock. That rapidly morphed into bitter, self-pity mode with only two possible options: Sleeping until the end of time or fleeing to Mexico with my few assets to live like a queen as the proprietor of a road-side stand to peddle trinkets to tourists.

But then, the day after I got my walking papers from the Observer-Reporter, one of college friends e-mailed to let me know she’d been let go from the public relations job she’d held for years. A few days after that, two other friends let me know that they, too, had been furloughed.

So when John or Jim or Jebediah there behind the counter commented on my card, it wasn’t out of judgment, or some unconscious social ineptness, as I had first assumed. It was just a bit of conversation, a few brief moments of understanding between strangers. And oddly, when I left the store, I had one of those “Wonder Years” moments of clarity. Yeah, it is tough out there. But we’re all in it together. Whether we’re behind the Rite Aid counter or freelancing for a small local daily, we are all just trying to get though this.

I left comforted that if I have to be in the so-called bread line for a bit, at least I’m in good company. I thought being unemployed made me a loser. A 28-year-old has-been -- embarrassed because I thought what if I would have worked a little harder, or wrote a little tighter.

Nope. Not the case. And it took that inconsequential chat with John or James or Jebediah that helped me finally get it.

Amanda Gillooly previously worked for the Observer-Reporter and now freelances for the Valley Independent in Monessen, Pa. She can be reached by e-mail at amandabgillooly@gmail.com.

Update...

Friday was propellant day, I was out at FAR all day.

• I received an order of 85% from XL Space.
• I built the forms for the base of the generator that will complete my processing facility.
• I fixed a leaky valve on the safety water supply pump.
• I built a frame to hold the Refrigerated air dryer up on a shelf off the ground to give more floor space.
• I cleaned up around the site a little bit.

One more long day to finish my processing facility and I’ll have three sources of propellant.

180 second status: I’ve put together both an order and a RFQ for stainless versions of the regen biprop motor to replace the dead aluminum one. After examining the dead motor its really clear that something bad happened in the region of the pressure port. It was more than a a bad weld. We either had the port through the wall leak fuel rich stuff into the cooling jacket or we have some kind of contamination there. On the next motor this is going The new motor will have an uncooled section thats identical to the top of the blue ball motor and will weld to a cooled lower section. There will be no joints through the cooling jacket wall.

Realistically we get one more shot at the 180 second motor and the way rockets go that has to be considered a hail mary.